and agony. When this crowd is exhausted, we shall gather another, and another, and another, and all will die, day after day after day, because of you. Only when the last human in my kingdom has been killed will I grant you the surrender of death.”
“No!” shouted Bitterwood.
“No!” shouted Blasphet, rushing forward. He wouldn’t allow his brother to ruin his plans for the Free City by killing everyone before the experiment had even begun. Before he could reach the king, Pertalon jumped into his path and held him from his goal.
As the two struggled, Bitterwood cried, “Kill me! My life for theirs! I’m the one who wronged you!”
“Kanst,” Albekizan said, his eyes gleaming in the dawn light. “Give the command.”
HEZEKIAH TWISTED HIS neck from side to side as Vendevorex sat back, exhausted. The artificial man flexed his hands, almost like a human would flex a limb that had been asleep. “My mobility is restored,” Hezekiah said in a tinny, hollow voice. “I assume you’re done with me?”
“You assume wrong,” Vendevorex said, handing the prophet his broad-brimmed hat. As Hezekiah donned the hat, Vendevorex lifted the heavy axe with a grunt. He held it to the artificial man and said, “You and I are just getting started.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE: GO!
KANST LIFTED HIS gleaming ceremonial sword high over his head, then sliced it down in a swift arc. With his deep, booming voice, he shouted, “Kill them!”
WHEN AT LAST Bitterwood spoke, Jandra could barely hear him.
“What?” she asked.
“Go,” Bitterwood whispered.
“Not yet,” she said.
“Go,” he repeated, more forcefully.
“But-”
“Go!” he screamed. “Go!”
The look on his face -a twisted mask of distorted pain and anger- told her he would never listen to her words. Still she had to speak them.
“Fine,” she said. “Blame yourself. Act as if nothing matters but your own guilt. Let Pet die in your place, let Zeeky rot away inside the Free City, let the whole world come crashing down. But I’m going to try to stop it!”
Jandra turned and ran, not bothering to render herself invisible. She had been a fool to trust him.
THE CROWD SCREAMED as the guards surged forward.
Zeeky hadn’t seen or heard what had happened on the stage, for she was near the back of the crowd. She cried out, frightened, as the crowd pushed her about like a mouse batted by a dozen cats. “What’s happening?” she begged.
Suddenly, the adults closest to her screamed louder, and the crushing pressure of bodies abated as the crowd parted. The people were fleeing from a snarling ox-dog, a whip-wielding earth-dragon mounted in the large saddle on its back. As the adults ran the gigantic beast locked its dark eyes on Zeeky’s small figure and bounded toward her, barking, its teeth bared, its tan neck hairs standing up like brush bristles.
“Aw,” said Zeeky, in an instant forgetting the confusion of the crowd. Here was something she understood. “Aren’t you a big ’un?”
The ox-dog skidded to a halt before her, thrusting its face into hers, growling, its steaming breath foul with the smell of fresh blood.
“You’re just a big puppy, ain’t ya?” she said.
The ox-dog stopped growling. “Hrunmph,” it snorted.
Zeeky reached out and scratched the dog above his big, wet, black nose. The hair on the dog’s neck relaxed. It showed gratitude for her scratches with a big, wet lick of its pink tongue.
The dragon in the saddle lashed the beast’s flanks with his whip. “Forward, Killer! Attack! Attack!”
The ox-dog’s right legs buckled and he rolled over, tossing the dragon from the saddle. As the dog rolled, he crushed the dragon with the whole of his massive weight before coming once more to his feet. The humans in the crowd scrambled to stay out of the beast’s way.
“Damn you, Killer,” the dragon wheezed as he struggled to stand. He raised his whip. “I’ll thrash some obedience into you yet!”
Killer opened his huge jaws and leaned forward, placed his maw over the dragon’s head, then closed his mouth.
“Ret goo!” the dragon shouted, his voice muffled.
The ox-dog shook his head from side to side, jerking the screaming dragon from his feet. Zeeky ducked as the dragon’s feet passed just over her head. It was too awful to watch, even if it was happening to a dragon.
“Put him down!” she said, placing her hands on her hips and looking stern. “Right now!”
The ox-dog paused, looking at her. Then he flipped his head to the side once more, hard, and let go. The dragon sailed for a few brief seconds of flight, his wingless limbs beating the air in a vain attempt to control his motion. Then he fell among the turbulent crowd of humans and was gone.
The ox-dog again turned its attention to Zeeky, letting its foot-wide tongue hang from its mouth.
“Good boy,” Zeeky said. Then her fear and confusion returned as the crowd continued to scream and mill about. Still, Zeeky was safe in a bubble that formed about ten feet around the ox-dog. Even panicked people steered clear of such a beast. All Zeeky wanted was to get away from here. She had to go to the stables to find Poocher then leave this terrible place forever.
She grabbed the stirrup of the saddle and managed to pull herself up. From her new vantage point she could see dragons killing people all around her. Tears filled her eyes.
“Get me out of here!” she sobbed.
Killer woofed in agreement. The ox-dog wheeled around, racing forward toward a gap that opened as dragons fell over one another to get out of Killer’s way. Zeeky closed her eyes tightly and swore that if she ever got home, she’d never run away again.
A QUICK, INVISIBLE flight gave Vendevorex a view of the catastrophe. He’d heard the soldiers moving through the streets before dawn, commanding the humans to the gathering, but he never anticipated the scene below. Albekizan was on the platform, standing behind Pet, holding the human’s eyes open. Behind the king a large black- scaled sun-dragon struggled with a sky-dragon. Blasphet?
Kanst continued to bark out orders. Hundreds of dragons tore into the crowd. Vendevorex needed to think the situation over but there was no time. The only thing that offered a brief glimmer of hope was that a few of the humans had managed to overwhelm the earth-dragons with their numbers and now fought back with stolen arms.
Vendevorex swooped back to street and called out, “Hezekiah! Come!”
The black-robed figure emerged from the nearby building as Vendevorex landed on the dusty street.
“Go to the square,” Vendevorex said. Until this moment, he’d hoped that the situation might be diffused without bloodshed. Now there was no time for subtlety. He gave the command he’d hoped to avoid: “Kill every dragon you see.”
“Even you?” the artificial man asked.
“No, except me.”
“And other sky-dragons? Don’t kill them?”
“Kill sky-dragons, except for me,” Vendevorex said, wishing he’d had time to do a little more sophisticated job on the logic loops. “Kill sun-dragons, too, earth-dragons, great lizards, and ox-dogs. Don’t hurt people.”
“I will obey,” Hezekiah said. He turned, swung his axe up to rest on his shoulder, and marched off in the direction of the commotion.
“Hurry!” Vendevorex said.
Hezekiah began to run, streaking down the street with inhuman velocity. Vendevorex knew what Hezekiah was capable of. The automaton could kill every dragon in the Free City given time. Yet with each second that passed,
