The Dark Lord

a thick, black cloud. The iron drake shrieked upwards, gaining altitude.

Coughing up soot and burning ash, the sorcerer scrambled down the dune. The sandy crown burned fiercely, streams of molten glass spilling after him. The T'u-chueh fled, leaving smoldering corpses scattered under the trees. Dahak wailed, a long, sobbing moan escaping his seared throat. He'd only felt such dreadful pain once before and he splashed desperately into a muddy pond, crying in relief as cool water hissed against his skin. Taloned fingers plunged into the mud, feeling strength throbbing in the rich soil.

A rising, hurricane shriek snapped his head around, the sorcerer catching sight of the flying machine—now he could sense gears and wheels, cunning skeletal limbs sheathed in hammered copper and bronze, a blazing crystalline heart—sweeping towards him. Even the brief respite had been enough, letting his mind settle, confusion flee, and power rush into his body from the living earth.

'Now we'll see, stripling!' Dahak turned, one black hand slashing across the pale blue sky. The sun had settled behind the mountains, but the heavens were still flush with day and the rising smoke was only a smear against a perfect field of azure. Lightning leapt up with his motion and the iron drake plowed into a massive, earth-shaking discharge. A thunderclap smote the ground, shaking leaves from the trees and making the surface of the muddy pond jump.

The machine staggered in flight and Dahak felt his enemies' surprise. Iron plates glowed bright, groaning as iron expanded in the wake of the strike. The sorcerer rose from the pond, delighted to see his opponent veer away, a spiral of smoke hanging in the air. He scrambled out of the pool, eager to gain some high ground.

Smoke hissed away from the turning drake as it rushed through the upper air and then petered out. A faint blue-white flash rippled across the massive head, deep-set eyes blazing orange and red. The machine banked around with a shriek, the wind of its passage bending the trees.

Dahak cursed, summoning every power and ward he knew. A wave of darkness rushed away from him, killing grass, flowers, trees in a great circle. 'Come then!' he screamed at the sky, 'test my strength!' At a great distance, the door of stone quivered, feeling binding signs upon the ancient granite weaken and fray.

—|—

Stunned, the Sahaba raised their heads from the sand, every man's eyes wide in fear. The Queen was already standing, searching the sky with liquid brown eyes, her lips a harsh line. Three more of the great creatures plunged towards her from the west. Against the sun-bright sky, they were almost invisible, but the earthshaking roar of their passage rolled before them like the clash of a massive drum. Zoe grasped the air, her fingers tangling in the last rays of the sun. A hazy wall flickered above the dunes, fierce zephyrs rushing over the ocean hurrying to her aid. 'Keep down,' she managed to shout as the first of the enemy cracked past overhead.

The drake's wingtip, tending low towards the ground as the leviathan body slewed into an S-curve towards the fleet, clipped the trembling, near-invisible wall. Zoe was slammed back into the sand, breath driven from her body and the shield of wind disintegrated in a whirlwind of sand and dust and debris. The iron machine cartwheeled unexpectedly, flame spilling away from a twisting snout, and slammed at great speed into the merchantman Der'a. The colossal impact broke the ship in half, iron wings tangling in the mast, planks and keel shattering with a roar. A huge spout of water fountained up, vaporizing to steam as the drake coughed up a bellyful of phlogiston. Fire rained down in blazing droplets, engulfing the broken foredeck of the Der'a, and spreading on the tossing sea in great, hissing sheets.

'Dusarra's brass teat!' Zoe cursed, scrambling to her feet. Two more ships caught fire in the space of her exclamation, their sails bursting into yellow flame, rolling black clouds surging across the water. The iron monster struggled in the wreckage, tangled, massive claws shredding the hull as it fought free. Steam boiled up with an ear-splitting hiss, obscuring her view. The surf glowed red, catching the light of the inferno roaring around the three ships.

The other two iron drakes had broken away, veering left and right from their unexpectedly fallen brother. Zoe's heart fell as the bat-winged monstrosities shrieked over the fleet, triangular heads dipping down, sending sheets of green flame drifting down over the massed ships. A rippling series of booms echoed across the water, dry cordage and canvas catching alight. Dozens of ships were aflame in moments.

Odenathus, Zoe called, feeling her cousin rising woozily from the sand. Give me your strength!

Her fist clenched in the air, whipping through a tight circle. Giddy power rushed from land and sea and air, coalescing into a shimmering, blood-red cube clasped in her ghostly hand. Grim brown eyes followed the swooping flight of one of the machines as it pulled away from the stricken fleet, wings roaring in the air, clawing for altitude. Odenathus' power joined hers and the cube multiplied fourfold. Now the simple shapes split and re-formed, tearing and extruding new surfaces with dizzying speed.

The iron drake executed a sharp plunging turn and shrieked back across the bay. Zoe canted her arm, then flung the power she'd gathered like a javelin, leading the massive, onrushing metallic shape. The girl staggered, drained by the enormous gradient she'd released, then armored hands caught her from both sides. A spray of brilliant crimson duododecahedrons snapped out in an expanding cone.

The machine slammed into the cloud and the sky lit with a concussive, blinding crack!

Smoke and fire bloomed in the air, a roiling black cloud. Metal screamed and the drake burst free, one wing torn away, the head smashed, white smoke billowing from rents in the scaled flesh. Zoe shouted in triumph, and the men around her cheered wildly. One massive wing still beat the air, and the machine tilted to one side. Zoe turned to find the other drake, catching sight of it sweeping inland, rising on titanic wings.

Look out! Odenathus shouted over the meld. Zoe spun back—just in time to see the crippled drake slam into the shallow water a hundred yards away and crash through a burning barge, sections of iron hull flaking away from the skeleton. Zoe sprinted away, her guardsmen wailing in fear, and the enormous machine bounced—wreathed in flame—onto the beach behind them. A whoomp of flame jetted out and the creature blew apart. Zoe felt something lift her up, then she smashed into a sand dune with a sickening crack. Fire roared around her and she blinked smoke from her eyes. Dazed, she tried to roll over, but her arm failed and groaning metal drowned out her weak cry for help.

Something blotted out the sky, toppling over, and she caught a glimpse of an intricately detailed iron wing rushing towards her before searing pain washed consciousness away.

—|—

Dahak leapt into the air, tearing free from the burden of gravity and a thick, scaled tail slapped the ground where he'd stood. Trees shattered, limbs torn away, filling the air with flying splinters. The sorcerer twisted, a crackling blue-black flare leaping from his outstretched hand. The blast seared the drake's head and shoulders, iron plates groaning with the impact and the creature whirled away. Wounded, the machine bounded for the open sky.

Something rose out of the smoke, surrounded by whirling points of white light and Dahak drew back, drifting in the sooty air, eyes narrowed in surprise. His enemy came forth in the flesh at last and the young Roman's aspect was vastly different than he'd seen before.

You have grown strong, the Lord of the Ten Serpents hissed.

Maxian rushed forward, suspended in a shifting sphere of sullen glyphs and whirling, frenetic bright sparks of living flame. His lean face was dark with strain, but the sorcerer could feel power moving to the boy from every direction. The hidden world twisted, contorting around the strength collecting in the Roman. Even Dahak felt the tug, a steadily steepening slope wicking his own mana away.

No! Dahak howled, and mustered his own vigor, sapping the land, sending thousands of his gaatasuun collapsing to the ground, yanking tendrils of guiding thought away from his servants, opening his heart to the power dwelling in the empty spaces behind the moon and the sun. Incandescent with rage, he met the prince's charge with his own blow—a flickering, swift sign bursting new- formed and whole from the air—darkening the afternoon sky.

Jagged patterns clashed, lightning licking along impossible surfaces and a coruscating blast of fire, wind and deafening sound rolled away from the two wizards. The sea heaved, more Persian ships capsized or the flames raging on their decks were snuffed by the overpressure of the blast. Thousands of men threw themselves to the ground in fear, some blinded. The soft bottomland convulsed and heaved, entire orchards and meadows flattened or swallowed by the uneasy earth.