The Circus Infinitus - To the End of the Earth

by Ethan Somerville

  * * * *

  5

  A white-hot ball of fire slammed into Sir Arturo and exploded, engulfing him and momentarily illuminating the surrounding area as brightly as daylight. All snow within fifty feet was melted. Icarus and his zombies hissed in pain, momentarily blinded. A wave of heat washed over them, as hot as the blast from the Circus Infinitus’ furnace.

  Such a conflagration should have reduced the church knight to a smouldering pile of ash. But as the flames boiled away, leaving a charred, blackened patch on the snow some thirty feet wide, Sir Arturo was revealed, standing in the middle, perfectly unharmed, with his spear still at the ready.

  “I am protected from your hellfire, monster!” he thundered, and hurled his spear at the dragon still hovering above him. It slammed into her chest.

  Professor Abbacus rolled up his right sleeve and focussed through his artificial eye. Beside him Busboy unhooked his enormous blunderbusses from their holsters and pointed them at the knight. Steamsaw unlimbered his chainsaw.

  Icarus let fly with a lightning-bolt sufficiently powerful to burn up all the coal currently in his furnace. Electricity danced and flickered all over Arturo’s body, enhanced by his steel armour. He staggered, falling to his knees, but was obviously still protected somehow, as he wasn’t immediately catching fire and disintegrating. Perhaps his holy armour had been proofed against lightning as well as fire.

  Busboy fired both of his weapons with a colossal boom! Flying shards of shrapnel engulfed Arturo, unfortunately most pinging off his armour. A few sliced into the flesh of his face, but again didn’t do as much damage as they should have.

  Icarus also mentally ticked off “projectile weapons” on the list of things Arturo had been protected from.

  Above, Bethel swatted the spear from her midriff. Heavily enchanted, it had managed to pierce her thick scales and pierce the softer flesh beneath. She had felt its icy cold power slide into her. As the spear started to fall it disappeared, reappearing back in the knight’s hand. As he straightened, shrugging off the damage Professor Abbacus and Busboy had caused him, he raised it to throw again.

  While Icarus shoved some more coal into his furnace, Steamsaw charged in, swinging his massive, roaring weapon. Realising if she belched fire again she would hit him, and it hadn’t been doing much anyway, Bethel swooped down from above with teeth and claws extended.

  She swiped at the knight as he lunched with his spear – and the point slammed into one of her eyes, driving deep into her skull and nearly piercing her brain. She howled in agony.

  Arturo yanked the spear out to try again – and Steamsaw’s chainsaw slammed into his side, its Magickally enhanced teeth sufficient to tear a decent rent in his armour. He felt them slice through his flesh and hissed at the sudden, unexpected pain.

  It had been a while before he had felt such, and he didn’t like it. He didn’t like it one bit. He spun the spear and thrust it at the zombie, driving it right through his body. Steamsaw wore no armour or enchanted protection there, just a long woollen greatcoat. The weapon was designed to cause maximum damage against demons and undead. Steamsaw fell to the ground, clutching his middle.

  “Steamsaw!” Busboy shrieked, horrified by the sight of his brother dropping so easily.

  That ought to take care of that filthy zombie, Sir Arturo thought. But before he could direct his attention back to the dragon, she had managed to overcome her pain at the loss of an eye, and was coming for him again. She swatted him with her tail, knocking him flying across the road. But as she came in to claw him, he managed to raise his spear, blocking her flashing talons.

  Busboy dropped his guns and raced to Steamsaw’s side. He rolled his brother over and pulled open his coat to reveal the hole in his middle – a formidable wound that his accelerated healing ability did not appear to be fixing. But Steamsaw was a zombie, and even an open wound couldn’t stop him. With Busboy’s help, he started to pick himself up. But as he moved his guts started to ooze from his stomach, and he had to stop to shove them back in.

  He gestured impatiently at his fallen chainsaw.

  Icarus had managed to shove more coal into his furnace and his fires burned brightly once more. But what did he do now? The knight was extremely well protected against both Magick and physical attacks. He could be eventually be whittled down, but the Professor didn’t have nearly enough Magick power for that.

  Arturo thrust at Bethel again, this time stabbing her in the throat. His enchanted spear tore through her thick dragon-hide like butter, opening a cut several feet long. Dark blood gushed forth. She shrieked again.

  If something wasn’t done soon, she was going to die! She was a sage, not a fighter.

  Professor Abbacus curled his hands into fists. Nothing for it then, he thought, and hurried towards the fight. He was a lot stronger than a normal human and he had a mean right hook. He was sure Arturo wasn’t protected against a good, old-fashioned punch in the face.

  He had an infinite amount of those.

  Busboy came in with Steamsaw’s weapon, blade spinning furiously.

  Badly wounded, Bethel landed heavily on the road, her sharp claws scrabbling for purchase on the ice. Then she sat down with a thud.

  “I have you now, worm!” Arturo hurled his spear at her again. This time he hit her in the shoulder, at the base of one of her wings. The enchanted spear smashed through the bone and her wing flopped to one side, useless.

  Arturo laughed in triumph – just as Busboy swung Steamsaw’s chainsaw with all his might. He wasn’t as good with the weapon as his brother, but he still managed to bring it down with all his zombie strength on the knight’s thigh. There was a banshee-like shriek as the teeth tore through his armour and sliced deep into his leg.

  It was the knight’s turn to scream in agony. Blood fountained from the wound.

  At that moment three figures came bounding in from three different directions and launched themselves into the fray.

  Felina, Suresh and the Wolf Woman had returned from their hunt. As Arturo struggled to maintain balance on his wounded leg, the three wild creatures slammed into him and knocked him to the ground. His spear returned to his hand, but he couldn’t bring it to bear in such close quarters. Teeth and claws ripped the armour from his body and tore into him. No Magick aided their attacks – just brute strength. He screamed for a few more seconds, then, abruptly his voice was cut off.

  The Wolf Woman dragged his severed head across the snow, leaving a streak of blood behind. She dropped it in front of the wounded dragon and sat down.

  The dragon looked down at her and gave a nod. Then she lifted her undamaged paw and rested it on the Wolf Woman’s head in appreciation of the offering.

  Icarus hurried over to Bethel to examine her various wounds. Normally dragons could heal even the most grievous of injuries in minutes, but these had been caused by an extremely heavily enchanted weapon, and weren’t closing.

  I’m sorry Professor Abbacus, but I’m going to die now, Bethel sent to him. She regarded him sadly through her one remaining eye. Please take care of my child. She pressed her good paw against her chest, and withdrew the egg from a small pouch. She held it out to him.

  He took it with shaking fingers. “N-no!” he exclaimed, tears trickling down the right side of his face. “I will not see Earth’s last dragon die on my watch!”

  You have Earth’s last dragon now. She laid her head down on the road and closed her one remaining eye.

  Professor Abbacus shoved the egg into his coat and lifted his hands. He began intoning a spell, shoving as much power into it as he could. He didn’t care if he burnt the rest of his coal up in the process – he had to save this poor creature.

  He finished the spell with a clap of his hands – his furnace blazed brightly – and then his fire guttered and flickered out, almost instantly cold and dead. He collapsed to his hands and knees on the road.

  An aura shimmered around Bethel’s body. The blood that had been trickling from her various injuries app
eared to have stopped. She was frozen in time.

  Professor Abbacus collapsed onto his side, no longer able to move.

  Busboy, Steamsaw – still holding his guts in – the Wolf Woman, Felina and Suresh gathered around him.

  “Wot did you do, sir?” asked Busboy.

  She’s in suspended animation now, sent Icarus. She won’t recover, but she won’t get any worse, either. Isabella may be able to help her. If not … I have some ideas that could work to save her.

  “Blimey!” exclaimed Busboy.

  But someone will have to bury Sir Arturo, and bury him deep, his spear with him. If he is eventually discovered, let people think he died doing what he loved – slaying dragons.

  The Wolf Woman padded off to the side of the road and started to dig. Felina and Suresh joined her.

  Get me back to the Circus. I need coal.

  Busboy picked Icarus up from the road and cradled him in his arms.

  * * * *

  6

  As soon as Icarus’ furnace was re-ignited and he was able to move and speak once more, he ordered the Circus Infinitus’ anchor and ladder raised. Then he piloted the platform from the village to where the battle had taken place, about two miles away, and ordered the anchor dropped there. As the circus’ shadow fell over the site, the Wolf Woman, Felina and Suresh backed away from where they had buried Sir Arturo and looked up. They had finished the job and only bloodstains remained. And now a gentle snow was starting to fall, even they would soon be gone. The dragon Bethelrath continued to shimmer beneath Icarus’ Magickal aura. As the snowflakes struck it they melted and disappeared.

  Felina, Suresh and the Wolf Woman clambered gratefully back up the stairs and onto the circus platform.

  In her surgery, the circus’ healer, Isabella Archer, examined Steamsaw’s belly. She tried to use her special womb Magick to help him to heal, but his undead nature thwarted her efforts. Her Magick relied on life, while his regeneration was powered by a completely opposite force – necromancy. All she could do was fix him up the old fashioned way - by stitching him up so his guts no longer fell out every time he moved.

  Fortunately for a zombie that was good enough, and he tipped his helmet at her in thanks.

  She straightened up and turned to face Icarus, who had been hovering nervously behind her, waiting for her to finish. “Now what about this … dragon you wish me to examine?”

  “Yes. She is in a bad way. My suspended animation spell will only last twenty four hours.”

  He had told Isabella that he needed her to help save a dragon’s life, and she assumed he was talking about a large, exotic lizard or serpent. She herself had had an eight-legged serpentine familiar several years earlier, named Sasha, but she had died during a battle.

  Isabella collected a thick fur coat with a hood, and followed Icarus outside.

  Isabella could only stare in amazement at the magnificent creature. “That’s no lizard or serpent, but a real dragon!” she exclaimed.

  “What, did you think I was joking about the dragon part?” he growled. “She is last of her kind. She needs help. Her wounds are fatal.”

  Isabella walked around the frozen creature, taking in all the grievous injuries the knight had caused. They were severe, yes, but not beyond her ability. However she couldn’t do anything while Icarus’ spell was in force. “You’ll have to lift your enchantment,” she instructed.

  “She won’t have much time once it’s gone.”

  “Don’t worry – I shall start on the severest wound – the severed artery in her throat. That is the one that will kill her first.”

  Icarus pointed his human arm at Bethelrath and snapped his fingers. His spell lifted and snow began to fall on the dragon. Her blood started to flow once more, almost black against the white ground.

  Isabella stepped in and pressed her hands against the wound on the dragon’s throat. It was several feet long. In her mind’s eye she could see the severed vessel inside. Using the power within her, she envisaged drawing the ends together and sealing them. But as she worked she could feel something resisting her – a counterMagick almost as strong as her own.

  It was like the resistance she had felt from Steamsaw’s own undead power. She could overcome it, but almost immediately broke out into a sweat. At this rate the dragon would die from blood-loss. “Something – something is blocking me!” she gasped. “Some other Magick, counter to my own! Icarus – help me – I need to pull the ends of the artery together!”

  Icarus quickly reached in for the ends. It was like trying to grab two slippery rubber hoses. But he managed to pull the ends in despite the blood gushing out over his hands, and Isabella sealed them together with her Magick.

  But the effort left her gasping, hands on her knees. “What … what is resisting me? Surely not the dragon herself!”

  “Probably the same Magick that stopped her from regenerating. A so-called ‘holy enchantment’ embedded in the knight’s spear.”

  Isabella scowled. “Yes, that would counter my own life Magick. The church has always been against power that comes from feminine Magick.” She directed her attention back to the long, deep cut on the dragon’s throat and pressed her hand against the flesh beneath, feeling the slow, deep thud of her heart. “She appears to be stable now, and in her own form of suspended animation. I can mend the rest of her wounds the old fashioned way, but it will take considerable time and effort. She will lose the sight in one eye, one wing and one leg. Because of that knight’s so called Magick she will only ever be half a creature.”

  “No, I won’t let that happen. I know a way to make her better. But I will need your help.”

  She glared at him through her fierce green eyes. “Icarus, you’re not going to use that abominable Immortality Machine of yours on her, are you? I won’t be a party to that, you know.”

  Icarus planted his hands on his hips. “I can’t! For a start she won’t fit inside it, but even if she did I have no idea how her own innate Magick would react to it. She could blow it to smithereens. No, I’m going to fix her with some prosthetic parts.” He flexed his mechanical arm in her face. “I have a spare limb for one of my robots that should fit, and the wing from a flying machine, and oh!” He tapped his monocle with the various attachments. “Another one of these I can wire into her. I assure after I’m finished, she will be as good as new. Well, she mightn’t be able to shift back to human form anymore, but she’ll still be able to see, and fly, and move around perfectly normally.”

  “Mechanical parts? Surely not!” Isabella gasped.

  As Icarus turned to head back to the Circus Infinitus’ stairs, a tall, thin figure dressed all in white approached.

  “Frankenstein? Is that you? Shit, is it midnight already?”

  “Yes. Did someone mention mechanical parts? Is this something I can help with?” She rubbed her hands together.

  “Yes! You’re just the Victoria I want to see! We’re going to remake a dragon!”

  * * * *

  7

  And so, as the night wore on, Professor Abbacus, Lady Frankenstein and Isabella Archer worked on the unconscious dragon, fitting her with the various artificial parts. The holy Magick still poisoning her wounds didn’t affect the mechanomancy Icarus used, and he was able to join the segments quickly and seamlessly. Isabella used her Magick to heal any open wounds left over from the surgery.

  And all the while Bethelrath slumbered, deeply unconscious. Icarus hoped she would wake when they had finished all the operations at around dawn, but she did not.

  “She’ll stay asleep indefinitely now,” said Isabella sadly. “Who knows when she’ll wake next?”

  “In that case we’ll have to put her somewhere safe, somewhere she won’t just be stumbled across.”

  “Which means we can’t leave her on the road. But how are we going to move her? She’s far too big.”

  Icarus started at her thoughtfully. “I could probably levitate her up into the forest, into the clearing where she laid her egg.
But then she’ll need to be concealed. I have the device I was working on to hide the circus. It’ll create an illusion disguising her as a hill.”

  “You can make it permanent?”

  “Yes, but unless I want to stand beside it for the rest of time shovelling coal into it, I’ll have to sacrifice at least a ten carat gemstone to keep it going. I have one I was saving it for an emergency that I can use.”

  “Wait.” Isabella lifted a hand to her throat, unbuttoning the collar of her dress. She drew out a pearl necklace. “Titus gave this to me when last we met. Will one of these be sufficient?”

  Icarus examined the pearls through his monocle. “Yes! Why, one will be perfect! Thank you!”

  She removed one and handed it to him.

  And so, as the eastern horizon began to brighten, Icarus levitated the unconscious dragon from the road and ferried her back to the secluded mountain grove. From the circus Icarus brought down a machine designed to be powered by coal. But into its furnace he placed Isabella’s pearl. Then he turned a crank handle to activate the device. Gears came together, wheels turned and belts began to hum. The strange little engine came to life. Icarus tapped a little pad of typewriter keys attached to the front, describing the illusion that would fool not just sight, but all the other senses as well, even those that detected Magick. Something that looked like an umbrella emerged from the top of the contraption and unfurled.