by Karen Kincy
So the automaton wasn’t quite that powerful.
“Hey!”
Ardis straightened, her heartbeat kicking into a higher gear, and turned her head.
Another Russian stood between the trees, brandishing a sword at the automaton. Even from here, she saw freckles speckling his cheeks. He had copper hair and the barest wisp of a beard. More of a boy than a man.
The Russian hefted a stone and hurled it at the automaton. It bounced off the cockpit and left a spiderweb crack in the glass.
Konstantin wasn’t going to like that.
Ardis swung her arms and lunged at the Russian. He bolted through the trees. He was fast, but no man could outrun an automaton. As she closed the distance between them, he glanced over his shoulder, the whites of his eyes flashing. They crashed through the forest. He zigzagged and bolted through the bushes.
She wouldn’t kill him. Just teach him not to run with—
The automaton’s foot jerked forward. Ardis stumbled onto her knee and caught herself on her hand. Her fingers sank into mud. When she looked down, she realized she had blundered straight into a murky swamp.
Breathing hard, the Russian broke into a grin.
He had lured her here. She should have killed him when she had the chance.
When the soldier shouted in Russian, three of his comrades stepped from the trees. Ardis struggled upright, but mud clung to the automaton. Dragging her deeper. She didn’t want to know how far down it went. A log lay halfway across the swamp. She groped for the log, but the rotten wood crumbled into dust.
The Russians advanced on the automaton. Swords gleamed dully in their hands.
Ardis hadn’t taken Chun Yi with her. If she left the automaton, she would be unarmed. And she didn’t know how the Russians would treat her as a prisoner. She was an automaton pilot, an American, a woman—
The copper-haired man tossed another stone at the automaton. It clanged off the metal, though Ardis stopped worrying about dents. The more she struggled to escape, the more the soldiers lost the fear in their eyes.
Mud crept around the automaton. Cold invaded the cockpit.
Think. There was always a way out.
Ardis stopped fighting and lowered her head. She watched the Russians through the corner of her eye. They edged closer. The copper-haired soldier, the boldest, reached out to jab at the automaton with his sword.
That was his mistake.
Ardis lunged and caught the sword. The soldier didn’t let go of the hilt quickly enough. She yanked him within reach. Her fist connected with his chest. He flew back and crashed into bushes, which quivered and stilled.
The Russians stared at the automaton. They had stopped smiling.
Ardis glanced at the sword, like a toothpick in the automaton’s hand, then threw it at them. The blade cartwheeled and buried itself in a tree. Too much power, not enough finesse. Yet again. Ardis raised her fists in a defensive stance.
Time to see how many men she could take on at once.
The three Russians circled Ardis. She twisted, trying to keep them in her sights, but when she saw two of them, the other stalked behind her back. And every move dragged her deeper, murky water sloshing past her chest.
Her heartbeat hammered. The cockpit had gotten pretty damn claustrophobic.
She waited for a Russian to blunder within reach, but they kept back, waiting for her to drown or abandon the automaton.
Mist swirled through the forest. Disturbed by a shadow.
Wendel.
He stepped from the darkness and sliced open a Russian’s throat. The soldier dropped. Blood mingled with mud. Wendel never looked back. He dodged a sword blow, kicked a man, and stabbed the other in the back. One opponent left. Wendel waited for him to attack, then finished him with a slash to the neck.
Ardis waved at him. “Wendel!”
He sheathed his dagger and crouched by the swamp. “Take my hand.”
“What? You can’t—”
Wendel grabbed the automaton’s wrist and strained to drag Ardis from the swamp. His feet slipped out from beneath him. He braced himself against a root, but he had no hope of budging the automaton from the mud.
“Climb out,” Wendel said.
“I can’t,” Ardis said.
His eyes narrowed. “Climb out of the automaton.”
Ardis shoved at the cockpit door, but the thick muck trapped it shut.
“I can’t!” she said. “Find Steph.”
“Steph?”
“The other automaton pilot. We split up.”
Wendel nodded, his jaw taut, and ran back through the forest.
The automaton sank deeper into the swamp. Water lapped at the glass and trickled through the crack into the cockpit. Ardis pressed her hand flat against the fracture, though she knew that was hardly a solution.
Footsteps boomed on the ground. Steph had arrived in her automaton. Wendel ran after Steph and halted her with a shout.
“Watch out for the swamp!” he said. “Let’s not replicate this predicament.”
Relief flooded Ardis. “Give me a hand?”
“My pleasure,” Steph said.
Steph sidestepped nearer to Ardis and crouched. She reached for the trapped automaton. Ardis grabbed her hand. Together, they hauled the automaton from the swamp. Ardis staggered onto solid ground, brought the automaton to its knees, and climbed out of the cockpit. Her legs shaking, she dropped to the ground.
Wendel was at her side in an instant. “Are you hurt?”
“No.” Ardis sucked in a lungful of air. “Christ, don’t tell Konstantin.”
She looked sideways at her automaton, the steel caked with stinking mud.
“I think we have to,” Steph said.
Ardis rubbed her eyes with her knuckles. “Later.”
Wendel touched her shoulder. He waited for her to meet his gaze.
“Are you sure you are all right?” he said.
“Yes,” she said, which wasn’t entirely a lie.
Overhead, a rustling sound rushed over the treetops. Like giant wings. Ardis looked in time to glimpse a flash of red.
“The clockwork dragon,” Wendel said hoarsely.
Ardis scrambled to her feet and climbed back into the cockpit.
“Time to get the hell out of here,” she said.
“The dragon can’t attack us in the trees,” Wendel said. “Remember?”
Ardis slipped her hands into the automaton’s gauntlets and flexed her fingers.
“It can attack the others,” she said.
They skirted the swampland and charged through the trees. When they returned to the field, they found Natalya waiting for them in the Colossus automaton. They didn’t stop running, and she turned to run with them.
“What happened?” Natalya said.
“The clockwork dragon,” Ardis said. “We saw it over the forest.”
Natalya scanned the horizon. No sign of the dragon, though the zeppelin hovered above the field like a bumbling target.
“We have to warn them,” Ardis said.
“I will telegraph them,” Natalya said. “Protect the archmages.”
Ardis obeyed the command and sprinted across the field. Konstantin waited by a truck. She didn’t see Carol or Tesla.
“Konstantin,” Ardis said. “The clockwork dragon.”
The archmage stared at the sky. His face looked pale and frozen.
“Not again,” he said. “Not the zeppelin. Himmel is up there!”
“Down here isn’t safe, either.”
Konstantin jumped into the truck and slammed the door. The growling of the engine didn’t mute the thundering of hooves. Calvary galloped across the field, a dozen or more men, their coats an unmistakable crimson.
Cossacks.
Ardis had her orders. Protect the archmages. And yet she stood her ground.
Where was Wendel?
She hadn’t seen him since the forest. The field granted him no place to hide. If the Cossacks caught him in the open—
<
br /> “Ardis!” Natalya towered over her in the Colossus. “Follow Konstantin.”
Ardis blinked back to reality. “What about Steph?”
“Moving to Carol’s position. You need to protect Konstantin.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Ardis said.
Natalya maneuvered the Colossus to face the charging Cossacks. Clouds darkened the sky with the promise of a storm. A horse skittered back and reared, shying away from the metal giant. Its rider fell from the saddle and rolled away from hooves. The rest of the Cossacks charged onward, their sabers gleaming.
Ardis forced herself to look away. That wasn’t her fight.
She sprinted after Konstantin and caught up with his truck. He glanced into the side mirror and saw the automaton running alongside. Ardis gave him a thumbs up, and he nodded with a grim smile. When Konstantin looked in the rearview mirror, his eyes widened. He gripped the wheel and gunned the engine.
The clockwork dragon soared over the forest, its scales glistening blood red.
Time slowed to the space between heartbeats. Ardis watched the dragon soar low over the field. The Cossacks reached the Colossus—Natalya swung her arm and knocked them aside. Horses and men scattered like toys.
The dragon swerved around the Colossus and swooped lower.
Ardis stared into its golden gemstone eyes. The dragon flared its wings, slowing its descent, its talons raking the air. The dragon’s claws screeched across the roof of the truck. Konstantin ducked down inside.
Ardis seized her chance. Literally.
She jumped at the dragon and grabbed its tail as it whipped by. The lurch knocked the automaton off balance and the dragon off course. Scales clattered through Ardis’s hands. Gritting her teeth, she gripped even harder.
The dragon careened earthward and dragged the automaton across the grass. The dragon’s tail arced through the air and lifted Ardis from the field. For a second, she was flying. Her heart lurched into her throat.
They both hit the ground.
The impact knocked the wind from her lungs and rattled her teeth. She lost her grip on the dragon’s tail, rolled across the mud, and skidded to a halt. Her muscles screaming, her ears ringing, Ardis staggered to her feet.
The fallen dragon writhed on the grass, then flipped itself upright.
God, Ardis wished she had a sword. She would slay this bastard right here and now.
The dragon snaked its neck and looked sideways at Ardis. It bared steel fangs with a serpent’s hiss. Steam curled from its jaws. When it straightened, she realized how much bigger the dragon was than her automaton.
Maybe making it angry wasn’t such a smart move.
Ardis squared her shoulders and braced herself for an attack. The dragon coiled, then lashed out with its claws. She dodged and heard talons whistle past her head. Before the dragon attacked again, she backed away.
Pain stabbed her knee whenever she took a step. Her body ached with bruises.
Limping, Ardis retreated from the dragon. It hissed at her and spread its wings. When she increased the distance between them, the dragon scrambled across the field toward the forest, its tail slithering through the grass.
Where was Wendel? Lurking in the trees?
Hooves drummed the earth. Her heart pounding, Ardis turned around. The automaton weighed on her like ponderous armor.
A rider on a pale horse galloped nearer. Blood trickled from the horse’s white neck.
Wendel. He had revived a dead horse from the battlefield. Judging by his bloody hands, that hadn’t been all he had done.
“Ardis!” Wendel reined in his undead steed. “Need any help?”
Hardly a chivalrous knight, but at least he had come to her rescue.
Ardis surveyed the forest. The canopy shivered as the clockwork dragon disappeared. The Cossacks, however, hadn’t yet retreated. They swarmed around the Colossus and tormented the automaton with sabers. Natalya swatted at them as they attacked the vulnerable pneumatics behind the automaton’s knees.
“Natalya looks like she needs help,” Ardis said.
Wendel spurred his ghoulish steed toward the Cossacks. The horses still alive flattened their ears, whinnied, and skittered away from the necromancer. Wendel galloped behind them and herded them from the automaton. Lumbering into the fray, Ardis hurled a boulder at the Russians. It boomed on the ground.
Spooked, the horses bolted from the battlefield and took the Cossacks with them.
Wendel watched them go. “Should we finish them?”
“No,” Natalya said, and she strode to the road.
Ardis followed the commander. She trembled as adrenaline faded from her blood.
Konstantin stood on the running board of the truck and ran his fingertips over the gashes carved by the dragon’s claws.
“Archmage,” Natalya said. “We should return to Königsberg.”
Konstantin peered over the truck. He paled at Wendel’s dead horse.
“Not with that,” he said.
Wendel sneered. “It was a nice horse.”
Despite his flippant tone, his eyes simmered with anger. Ardis suspected he found it abhorrent to kill animals.
“Let it go,” Konstantin said. “The battle is over.”
Ardis knelt in the back of the truck. Her kneecap ached. Biting the inside of her cheek, she checked the straps tying down her automaton. She tightened the buckles, straightened, and gave a thumbs up to Konstantin.
Wendel waited for her behind the truck. “Ardis.”
She leaned on his arm and let him help her down from the truck.
“How badly are you hurt?” he said.
“Not badly,” she said.
Wendel’s fingers tightened on her elbow. “Spare me the bravado.”
Ardis escaped from his grasp. They climbed into the truck’s cab.
Konstantin waited behind the wheel. “Why the devil did you wrestle that dragon?”
“I caught it by the tail.” Ardis shrugged. “One thing led to another.”
She tasted blood on her tongue, and she touched her split lip.
“Luckily,” she said, “I didn’t knock out any teeth.”
“Luckily,” Wendel said, “you didn’t die.”
Ardis glowered at Wendel, but he stared out the windshield.
“You are the expert,” she said.
He didn’t blink.
Konstantin looked between them, his cheeks pink, and cleared his throat.
“The automatons performed admirably,” he said. “Thank you.”
“You are most welcome,” Wendel said, in the most sardonic way possible.
Ardis sighed. “There’s no need to be a bastard.”
Wendel didn’t say another word on the way to Königsberg. Ardis pressed her hands between her knees. She didn’t want to sit so close to Wendel, not with this tension in his muscles. Not with this sickness in her stomach.
At the drydock, Ardis marched the automaton inside and climbed from the cockpit.
“Himmel is here,” Konstantin said.
He peered through the window, trying to hide a smile, then darted outside.
Ardis followed the archmage. “Are we done for the day?”
“Of course.” Konstantin gazed at the zeppelin. “Get some rest.”
When Ardis walked from the drydock, she found Wendel by the lagoon. He fractured the ice with his boot and dipped his hands into the freezing water. Bloodstains slipped easily from his hands, but he kept scrubbing.
He would never wash away his memories of touching the dead.
“I’m walking back to the hotel,” Ardis said.
She didn’t wait for Wendel, but he followed regardless. Gravel crunched beneath his boots. Snow started drifting from the sky and dusted her hair. The cold stiffened her muscles, and her knee throbbed more sharply.
Ardis stopped by a park and leaned against a wrought-iron fence.
Wendel was at her side in an instant. “Ardis?”
“I want to sit,” she said.
He took her elbow without asking and walked her to a bench. She sat with a sigh.
“I’m okay,” she said.
Wendel sat by her. “I don’t believe you.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I can see the bruises on your skin.”
Ardis tilted her face skyward and let snowflakes fall on her cheeks.
“We should go,” Wendel said.
“My knee is killing me,” Ardis said. “Can we take a taxi to the hotel?”
“Not the hotel,” he said.
“Where?”
Wendel leaned with his elbows on his knees. Shadows darkened his eyes.
“Away from Königsberg,” he said. “Away from Prussia.”
“You would abandon your family?” she said.
Wendel shrugged, his shoulders tight. “I’m returning the favor.”
“Don’t you want to fight the Russians?”
Wendel dug his fingernails into his legs. “Perhaps you shouldn’t.”
“It’s my job.”
“Then resign.”
She laughed. “We need the money.”
“Money is worth nothing. You are the only thing of value to me.”
Wendel looked fiercely at her, as if daring her to disagree. Ardis found herself speechless. Tears stung her eyes, though she blamed the wind.
“I don’t want to lose you,” Wendel said.
A lock of her hair blew across her face, and he brushed it aside with his thumb.
“You don’t have to protect me,” Ardis said.
“But—the baby.”
She looked away, blinking hard, and willed herself not to cry.
“We don’t know that yet,” she said. “There might never be a baby.”
Wendel curled his fingers around hers. “Never?”
The hurt in his voice underlined the finality of the word. She stared at their hands, twisted together, and sucked in a breath.
“Can I admit something?” Ardis said.
“Anything,” Wendel said.
“I never daydreamed about babies or husbands or weddings.”
Wendel frowned. “Who does?”
“Girls.” She smiled at his confusion. “All the girls in America, I think, except me.”
“Why not?”
“I blame growing up in a brothel. And then learning how to fight for a living. My point is, I don’t think I’m a normal woman.”