Free The Way of the Soul by Stuart Jaffe

platform a few feet above the beds. As each mold filled, he cast a spell. Once the molds were completely filled and properly spelled, two groyles lifted each one of the molds out of the bedframes and rolled in on a gurney-like contraption. They pushed the molds further down the room. Two other groyles brought in empty molds and placed them in the empty beds.
    At one point, a do-kha slithered out of its mold and headed away from the magician. A groyle guard bolted across the room and stabbed the do-kha with a gold-tipped prod. The do-kha did not yield. It attempted to push onward, away from the molds and the magician, but the guard only intensified its attack. When the sizzling sound and the smell of burnt flesh reached Reon, the do-kha had ceased moving. Another groyle hurried in to clean up the mess and presumably to return the do-kha back to the vat of raw goo.
    Reon replaced the ceiling tile and crawled onward. A new fear had taken hold of her chest. She had survived the encounter with Malja, she had found the factory, she had broken in, and she had witnessed the abuse of the do-kha. The missing part, however, was what exactly Lord Harskill wanted her to do.
    He used a do-kha. He had given her a do-kha. Did he want to see if she could be cold and pragmatic enough to allow this factory to continue its job? Or was she here to stop the whole thing, to destroy the factory? Perhaps he expected her to have worked with Malja instead of fighting. It all swirled around her head.
    When she next lifted a ceiling tile, she gasped. Beneath her was a nursery. In tiny, clear crates, five human babies wriggled and cried. Groyles dressed in orange gowns and surgical masks attended to each baby. Underneath the nursery, she saw three channels flowing with do-khas passing toward the next part of their process.
    All the babies looked and sounded healthy. One even held its foot and giggled. All were female. This would have been odd, but the shock of finding them at all overshadowed this observation.
    Why are they raising babies?
    Reon lowered the panel and moved on. Her stomach tightened. Up ahead she saw where a pipe crossed over and down into a room. She thought that might be a good spot next. When she peeked in, however, her entire life stopped.
    She could hear her breathing. She could feel her hair tickling her neck. Other sounds muted around her. Other sensations lifted away.
    On the floor below were three grown women. Each one stood naked before a transparent cylinder. A do-kha squirmed inside each cylinder. One woman reached out and the do-kha snapped onto her arm. But rather than become her clothing, it covered her body and glowed red. Flames climbed up her neck and smoke seeped out of her hair. She screamed and collapsed.
    Several groyles entered the testing area to attend to the fallen subject. As Reon watched, as she absorbed the horrific idea that these babies were being raised for this purpose, she saw that all the women looked identical. These babies were being grown. They were clones.
    And they all looked exactly like Reon.

Chapter 9
     
    Malja
     
    When Malja received a summons to speak with the Artisoll, she prepared for an earful about Tommy. The Artisoll was his wife, and that made Malja a type of mother-in-law. But when they met in the Castle Gardens, Malja saw at once that Tommy was not the issue.
    She saw it in the Artisoll’s grim but empathetic expression. She saw it in the way the Artisoll patted a spot on the marble bench surrounded by a sea of identical Red Tri-leaf flowers. Most of all, Malja saw the Voice standing behind the Artisoll. If the trouble had centered around Tommy, the Voice would not have been present.
    “Please, sit,” the Artisoll’s Voice said.
    Malja did as asked. Though she knew nothing threatened to jump out of the flowerbeds or attack from the droopy susabel trees, her senses fired off warnings.
    The Artisoll turned a fraction and allowed her lips to rise in a half-smile — a year in the mire