by Lexi Ostrow
“I cannot let her go out there alone. None in this wing will engage in the fight. She has no protection.” Jerking the electrified gun from her waist belt, she charged after her mentor, her boss. “Eliza!”
She watched as the blonde bob disappeared down the stairwell. They were only one level above the ground, and a doorway lay practically at the bottom of the stairs that led to the courtyard. Eliza was racing towards danger that she was unfit to deal with.
Clara huffed, jumping down three stairs at once and then four, her footing barely landing the second time. Footsteps sounded behind her, and she feared Hugo had followed her to help her, just as she was following Eliza.
A loud slam alerted her that Eliza had gone outside. Dieargog’s voice rumbled through the stone walls, though his words were mumbled until she got outside, the door staying open as Hugo grabbed it. None made a move to attack the beast. They were likely all too stunned that it had appeared there, or had exhausted their energy to create an illusion.
“Clara, we need to call Nathaniel or Layel.” Hugo tugged at her hand.
She felt the blackness seep into her eyes. “I love you, Hugo. There is nothing I wouldn’t do for you, but until Eliza is back inside, I cannot leave her.”
“Ahh, the blonde woman I found in your head has arrived.” Dieargog hissed, lowering his head to look at Eliza, who to her credit, did not run away.
Clara stopped in her tracks as a memory of colliding with the demon months before swarmed her mind. Fear gnawed at her, watching Eliza stand so close to certain death, but she knew if she did not make it to the metal dragon they would not be able to destroy Dieargog. Even as her brain screamed for her to save her friend, another part reminded her of her importance, and she leaned against the castle wall.
“Give me my husband.” She called, her hand drawing one of the modified weapons she must have stolen.
Laughter rang out in the courtyard, rolling through it like waves in the sea. Were it not for the wall at her back, Clara would have tipped arse over head from the force of it. Smoke puffed from its muzzle as a sinister grin flashed on it, teeth blinking in the moonlight.
“Does your husband look like he is detained? Broken? Bloody?”
Clara cast her eyes up as she presumed Eliza did as well. Lucius stood regally upon the beast’s neck. His body appeared in perfect condition. If not for the dark brownish-red sections on his suit coat that were so large they almost consumed the garment, it would have been impossible to know he’d been imprisoned.
“Leave now. Return the demon, and we will see if there is a way to save your life.” Layel’s voice boomed from somewhere just behind Dieargog’s form.
“He is not my prisoner, and I assure you, my life is in no danger from your pathetic Illusion Demons and Pure Angels.”
“And I can assure you that we are by far more powerful together than the two demons that destroyed you the last time.”
“Entrapped,” Dieargog roared, stamping his front feet and blowing out a wave of fire.
Layel was spinning tales. Lucifer was the only creature that would have had the power to reign in such a beast . . . which was why the dragon of theirs was meant to break it in such a way that it died from the injury.
“What are you saying, he is not your prisoner?” Eliza’s voice rang out.
“He means I am with him of my free will,” Lucius spoke, his voice echoing tragically in the enclosed space.
Clara had never heard of a Dragoniari that could control one’s mind, but that was the only explanation for what she was hearing.
“No, that’s not possible. You would not have stayed away for so long.” Eliza called up to him, her voice shaking with pain.
“It was not the entire time. I returned to you the moment we struck our deal.”
She felt sick, listening to one of the greatest heroes of the Alliance speak of treachery.
“It was quite a fantastic bargain. One that finally made him voice where the one I seek was at.” A trail of fire flew from his mouth as he spun in a circle. “I know she is here. I know Seraphina is precious to your organization. Whilst I will not always live in peace with you if you hand her over, I will for this moment.”
“No one harms my men.” Odette’s voice rang out. She stood atop of a spire, clinging to circular lookout’s ledge. “Seraphina is more than the Queen of Demons. She is an Alliance councilmember, and she is no longer here. She is protected.”
“Eliza, come join me. Stand by my side, and he will help us bring my race back from the death that was so harshly inflicted upon them.”
“You cannot believe him. You know there is no power anywhere that restore them. She destroyed their souls.”
“He can do much with what he has stolen.”
“Lucius no!” Eliza raced toward Dieargog, weapon zapping a silver streak through the air.
With a roar, he slammed Eliza backwards, flinging her body into a pillar like a rag doll. Stone crumbled from the impact, and she watched as Eliza’s limp body cracked against the ground.
“We had a deal!” Lucius bellowed.
“Yes, and you did not deliver the bitch’s location as decided upon.” Dieargog lifted a foot and snatched Lucius in it. “She is right. The absurdity in believing I could perform such a feat . . .”
Dieargog launched Lucius, sending him sailing into the same column his wife had hit. His body landed all twisted about not a meter away from Eliza.
Clara could not imagine how much longer the Illusion Demons could hide so much. Even a hundred strong, the sounds and sites were large.
“Hugo, we have to get to the dragon. We have to lure Dieargog away. The demons will grow weak in their powers if they must continue this for much longer.” she whispered, not even turning her head to look at him.
“My communicator.”
She heard the familiar twist of knobs before Hugo whispered again.
“We are on the eastern side, against the wall. The creature’s spun, its back is to us. This is our only chance to get to the metal monster.”
Nathaniel was before them before she heard Hugo close the communication.
“You had best be ready for this. There is no other way. I will take you, but you must return as quickly as possible.” He grabbed her hand and then took Hugo’s with his other hand.
In an instant, she went from staring at the broken forms of her dearest friend and her husband, to an empty field.
“Drop the illusion,” Nathaniel commanded to the two guards.
All at once the field held a giant Dragoniari, or what would appear to one to Dieargog. The red leathery body concealed a multitude of gears and gadgets, all turning at once to create as lifelike an illusion as possible.
“You must fly it straight and steady. There will be many minds to wipe, and your path will need to be remembered.” Nathaniel’s gaze softened, just for a moment. “We will see you both again. We will make sure Angels are at your side as much as possible. This is not a suicide mission.”
He winked out, leaving them alone with the guards. Her heart pounded in her chest like an entertainer banged on his drum at a joyous feast. She was glad to die in the name of the Alliance, but she regretted all the things she would never do with Hugo. His emotions slammed into her through the mated bond; fear, sadness, longing.
“I love you,” her voice was quiet, shocking her because her ears were still filled with the cacophony of sounds from the palace yard.
“I love you too, mate.” Hugo took her hand in his. “You heard Nathaniel. Once we lure it away from all those that live within the city walls, there will be Angels to help us in our assault. We are not done this day; we are simply gaining greatness.”
“You’re lending me strength,” she felt a tear slip down her cheek. “Because of our bond, I know exactly what you are truly feeling, and yet, here you stand telling me that.”
His hand slipped under her chin, lifting it slightly. “It is what I will always do.”
He kissed her, amids
t the horror and importance of their mission, he took a moment to let his lips touch hers and remind her of everything that lay waiting for them on the other side of this battle.
Nineteen
He did not feel one iota of the bravery that marked his words. The world had seemed to slow as they’d stood against the castle, watching a horrible drama play out. Betrayal stung deep, and he could only imagine what would happen to Lucius when everything was over.
Or what will become of you to help end this? He shook the thought off, knowing that dwelling on what they were about to do would serve no purpose. Their plan had been to seek Dieargog out in an open space and lay waste to him no matter how long it took. He had changed that by bringing the battle to them. They had to fly steady and exact in order to create a way for the damage to be covered up when the row was complete. Something that could easily prove to be impossible as neither one of them had been inside the metal beast.
“I’m going to pray that all your faith in Eliza was not misplaced and this tin creation will not plummet us to our deaths the moment we get it up in the blasted air.” He grumbled, tugging her towards the device.
He heard he let out a small laugh as he pulled open the door under the tail. Looking up he let out a whistle. It was far darker inside the machine now that it had been covered in leather. There was only enough room for one person at a time to climb to the seats in the head. Sucking in a breath of air he put one foot on the lowest rung and reached above his head to grab another. Rung by rung he climbed, trying to force down images of his death as he went.
Finally, he tugged himself over the top of the climbing space, tumbling into the smallest area he’d seen. He and Clara would be able to sit inside the machine, but they would have to crawl across the small space and contort their bodies to take their seats.
“Eliza should have put the controls in the bloody belly,” Clara grumbled as her head popped up into the open space. “Oh, bloody hell, now I have to crawl?”
Hugo knew her complaints for what they truly were, a way to mask her fear.
Grabbing onto the arm of the chair on the left side of the strange ship, he pulled himself into the seat and blew out a breath, happy to be mostly upright. Turning, he saw Clara doing the same, tying herself in, the action reminding him to the dark brown leather strap around his waist.
“Okay then, open the eyes.” He spoke aloud, as the step only required him to twist a knob at his foot.
The eyes opened with a clang, allowing the sparse nighttime light to filter into the area.
“Oh heavens,” Clara uttered as she wrapped her hand around the pole that was hers to control. “The sun, it’s threatening to rise for the day already.”
Squinting, he realized that the dark sky was tinged a pale purple. It had grown late, and soon there would be many to see the secrets of the Alliance of Silver and Steam world.
“Then we had best get this contraption in the air quickly.” Closing his eyes, he did something he knew was of no use, but habit compelled him.
Lord, keep us safe. Grant us the ability to save those in need and survive this fight ourselves. The prayer was useless as he now knew that there was no such deity that created the world, but habit and circumstance still made it feel like the proper thing to do.
“Together,” Clara said, sliding her hand over his.
“Together,” he agreed as he followed the careful instructions he’d memorized to turn the vessel on. “One . . . two . . . three.”
As discussed, on three, they both began to lift the bars. A creaking sound echoed angrily in his ears, and heaven help him, he felt the ship lift off the ground. He forced himself to focus, forcing the wings to flap in unison. Listening for the sound of Clara’s breathing, he realized how simple it was to synchronize their proverbial wing strokes.
Many moments passed in silence, their breathing the only thing he heard and the lightening sky the only thing he saw. Despite the fear rattling through him, he couldn’t help but be impressed. Eliza was a marvel, and he hoped she was able to return to her rightful place as Master Inventor when this mess was all sorted.
“Is it wrong of me to want to congratulate Eliza on this?” The words slipped out, tinged with awe.
“Only because I fear I may spew evening meal every time this damned thing dips. Focus.”
He wanted to chuckle, and he blamed fear for the irrational sense of humor he seemed to have developed. “Breathe through your mouth. It will help to steady you and calm you.”
“Are you sincerely ready for this?”
“I am ready to right the wrong I created in my desire to harness a power the world might not have been ready for. I’m ready to destroy the last creature of its kind to ensure the safety of everyone else.” He paused, swallowing air as the truth threatened to swallow him whole. “I am not ready to die, to possibly never live this life with you.”
She didn’t respond, and whilst he worried she was having doubts about him as she thought she was in her final moments, he did not press the issue. Instead, they made progress towards the city in silence, exactly how they’d started it.
“My god,” he breathed as he looked at the eyes and found nothing but a rising sun over Buckingham Palace. There was not sight nor sound of the disturbance he knew would be below . . . or he hoped would be.
“One could almost believe it never happened . . . or that it was already over.” Clara spoke the words Hugo had been thinking. “You don’t think we aren’t needed, do you?”
He shook his head, not knowing if she looked at him or still down upon the serene appearing street. “Someone would have reached out through a communicator. Clara, how will we break through the Illusion?” The question seemed so simple, and yet, he didn’t know how he could see anything but the empty courtyard he looked down into.
“We would have to cross it, but that is not possible as we could crash into Dieargog. We merely must stay here, flying in circles and hoping someone makes the demon see us.
A screech from below him caused him to squint. He worried the Illusion Demons grew tired of their task, until a massive body burst forth, appearing as if by magic.
“This cannot be,” Dieargog howled, getting right up against the eyes of the ship.
He would not be able to see in, but that did not mean Hugo wanted to take the risk of the demon evaluating them too closely before they could lure him away. Navigating carefully, he altered the ship's orientation, feeling slightly sick as the action tipped him backwards just a hair as the beast appeared to fly vertically in the air. Twisting the nozzle, he felt the fire spurt of out the mouth, amazed that Eliza had rigged it to open and breathe out the flames at the same time. Heat brushed against his skin and he panicked, turning the nozzle.
He looked out and saw Dieargog blowing away the flames.
“We need to get him far from here.” Clara reminded him.
“What magic is this?” Dieargog screamed at them. “I killed you all!”
“Bullocks, he really cannot tell what this is.” He realized then that there was no system that would allow him to communicate. Turning the Clara for the first time, he couldn’t help but think how lucky he was that the beautiful woman beside him, with sweat streaking down her face and loose curls, was going to one day be his wife . . . if they survived long enough for him to ask.
“Are you ready to make this apparatus fly faster than ever?” Clara sounded breathless as if making it move faster would be impossible.
“Together,” was all he said.
Together, they quickened their strokes, as they’d practiced countless times in the months that lead up to this moment. His arms screamed with exhaustion only four revolutions of the pole, but he knew they could not stop.
“Turn us!” he called too loudly, unable to grab the knob that would set the ship horizontal again. Thankfully, Clara was able to and whilst the action was stiff, jerking them down, they were likely moving too quickly for Dieargog to see the strange movement.
“How dare
you spy on me and then flee!” Dieargog’s voice boomed behind them.
The smell of burning leather wafted to his nose a moment later. Panic gripped him as he realized the demon had begun to attack them before they’d made it safely over the Atlantic Ocean.
“Come back here! I command it.” The beast hollered.
He heard a strange clang and then the familiar sound of the communicator connecting a transmission.
“Clara? What in the bloody hell are you doing?” Jacob shouted out of the device.
“We need the Angels, and we need them now. He’s lit the back end of the creature on fire, and soon the disguise will burn off, revealing us for what we truly are, and he will not hesitate to strike us down when that happens. We need assistance.”
The transmission went dead. The only sign a lack of background noise that had been coming through it.
“Fuck!”
“Breathe out slowly. We will make it to a safe place to engage with him, and we will destroy him.” His words were as much for him as they were for Clara.
With every push of the pole, his shoulder felt like it would tear from its socket. He wished there was a way for them to shift sides without the ship crashing to the ground below.
The vivid blue of the Atlantic water was coming ever closer, and with a quick swipe of his foot, so was Dieargog. He’d smacked into the tail, sending them careening to the right.
“Hold on!”
“Don’t let go!”
As they struggled to right the course of the ship, he saw the unmistakable flap of wings. Several in fact. Before he could let Clara know they had help, Dieargog snarled.
“Angels would not assist a Dragoniari. You are not real!”
His thundering cry of outrage shook the metal of the ship, and Hugo had to close his eyes to right himself and not allow it to shatter his focus. He thought he heard the Angels cry something, but he could not hear well through the fabricated eye and mouth holes of the ship.