by Karen Kincy
“What will?” Wolfram said.
Wendel turned from the window and let the curtain fall, but it was too late to shield his brother from the sight of the clockwork dragon. Wolfram leaned against the wall, his jaw slack, and gawked out the window.
“What an enormous monstrosity!” he said.
Wendel shook his head. “Now isn’t the time for polysyllabic exclamations.”
“We have to get out of here,” Ardis said.
Lady Maili hovered behind them. “What is it this time?”
“You don’t even want to know,” Ardis said.
Wendel closed his violin in its case and cradled it under his arm. He strode to the door and held it open. Lady Maili took the hint and hurried through, but Wolfram lingered by the window. Ardis tapped his shoulder.
“Wolfram,” she said.
The clockwork dragon whipped its tail and smashed a window. Glass rained onto the courtyard. The dragon snaked its neck and stared at them. Ardis yanked the curtains shut. Wolfram turned and ran with her.
A collision shook the ceiling. The windows shattered in a symphony of broken glass. Ardis stumbled and glanced over her shoulder. The clockwork dragon swiped at the window like a cat reaching into a mouse’s hole. Its claws gouged the windowsill and snagged the curtains, shredding the velvet into tatters.
“Ardis!”
Wendel’s hand clamped on her arm, and together they bolted into the hallway.
Flustered, Lady Maili fanned herself. “We’re safe inside, aren’t we?”
“No,” Wendel said.
Wolfram frowned. “This castle is solid stone.”
“That dragon is solid destruction.”
As if to underscore his point, the dragon attacked the broken window. Its claws raked across the stone with a grating screech that prickled the little hairs on Ardis’s arms. She retreated from the ruined music room.
“Stay away from the windows and doors,” Wendel said.
“My husband.” Lady Maili sucked in a breath. “I left Max in the conservatory.”
Wendel frowned. “What? Why?”
“We were invited to a dinner party.”
Wendel swore and started running. Ardis followed him, the others in pursuit.
The conservatory proved to be clear at the other end of the castle. Panting, Ardis clutched the burning stitch between her ribs. She straightened and looked around. A glass dome arched above, frosted by the cold, though the conservatory itself felt muggy. The rich aroma of rot and green growth scented the air. Potted palms arched over the lily pads floating in a small tiled pool. Candlelight glimmered in the water.
The dinner party, lords and ladies alike, mingled in this bottled oasis.
“Max!” Lady Maili said.
A gentleman in a tailcoat strolled across the conservatory. He rumpled his brown hair and gave Maili a bemused smile.
“I wondered where you disappeared to,” he said.
“Max.” Maili rested her hand on his arm. “Let’s go home.”
“So soon?” Max glanced between their faces. “Prince Wolfram, why is everyone so breathless? Been playing a game?”
Wolfram shook his head. “Hardly.”
“Wendel!” Juliana’s voice chimed across the party. “Have you come to play for us?”
Wendel glanced at the violin under his arm, then handed it to Ardis.
“I trust you to keep this safe,” he muttered.
“You’re welcome.” Ardis sighed. “Though I wish it were a sword.”
She had left Chun Yi at the hotel. There never was a safe time to let down her guard.
Juliana glided between the palms, shoving their fronds aside with her slender arm. Her jasmine perfume clashed with the wine on her breath.
“Hello, Wendy.” Juliana’s eyes glittered darkly. “Uninvited, yet again?”
“I’m here to save you,” Wendel said, “yet again.”
She pouted. “With what? Your pitiful violin?”
Wendel stared icily at her. “Now isn’t the time to be a bitch.”
Juliana gasped with more authenticity.
“How dare—”
“Everyone needs to leave. Immediately.”
“Why?” Juliana sipped her wine. “Assassins?”
“Actually, no.”
“Wendel isn’t lying,” Wolfram said.
She puckered her lips. “Oh, shut up, Wolfie.”
“Fine,” Wendel said. “Die. See if I care.”
Juliana looked like she wanted to strangle him.
Wolfram, glowering, strode past them both and stopped by the pool. He cleared his throat and clinked a fork on a wineglass.
“May I have everyone’s attention?” he said. “Please, exit the conservatory.”
“Why?” someone called. “This party is just getting started.”
Laughter echoed under the glass dome.
Wendel touched his brother’s shoulder. “This party is over.”
More laughter.
“Aren’t you the bastard prince?” shouted a drunk.
“Disinherited.” Wendel sneered. “There’s a difference.”
Waldemar shoved through the crowd, the medals on his chest clinking.
“What the hell is this commotion about?” he said.
“The clockwork dragon,” Wendel said.
“Where?”
Wendel looked him in the eye. “Here.”
His timing couldn’t have been more perfect.
The clockwork dragon landed on the conservatory dome, scrabbling its claws on the glass, flaring its wings for balance.
Cracks spiderwebbed through the glass and crazed to the edges.
Waldemar stared skyward. “Holy—”
The dome yielded under the dragon.
Shattered glass exploded on the guests. Ardis ducked and shielded her head with her arms. Shards rattled on the floor. She stole a glance as the dragon bent into the conservatory, delicately, and gaped its jaws over Wolfram.
Steam drifted between the dragon’s fangs and misted Wolfram’s hair.
Wendel tackled his brother and knocked them both into the pool. Water splashed out and wet the dragon’s snout. Snorting, the dragon recoiled. Wendel and Wolfram climbed to their feet. The pool sloshed at their knees.
“You saved my life,” Wolfram said, drenched.
“Don’t bother—”
Juliana shrieked.
The dragon lunged for Wendel. He saw it coming from the corner of his eye and flung himself sideways. The dragon bit a mouthful of air. With a hiss, the beast slithered between the steel beams of the shattered dome.
Spitting water, Wendel staggered to his feet.
The dragon swatted him with its claws and knocked him back into the pool. It pinned him, holding him underwater.
Ardis ran for the pool. “Wendel!”
Wild-eyed, Wolfram smashed a chair on the dragon’s arm. The wood splintered, but did nothing to hurt the clockwork.
Wendel groped at the dragon’s claws. Bubbles of air broke the surface.
Ardis’s heart hammered so hard it deafened all thought. She dropped Wendel’s violin by a palm and vaulted into the pool. The dragon tilted its head to watch her, but let her advance. As if she was no threat at all.
Ardis waded to Wendel, scattering lily pads, and ducked underwater.
Wendel lay pinned to the bottom of the pool, his eyes open, his hair drifting like seaweed. Still holding his breath. Barely. She reached under his arms and yanked, but she had no hope of beating the dragon’s weight.
Ardis reached into Wendel’s coat and found his black dagger.
She surfaced, panting, and stared at the scales armoring the dragon’s arm. Even the biggest enemies had a weakness.
There.
Ardis stabbed the dagger behind the dragon’s wrist. Oil gushed like blood.
The dragon hissed and jerked back, lifting its claws from Wendel. He burst from the water with a gasp. Ardis grabbed Wendel by the arm and dragged him away from the d
ragon. They scrambled from the pool together.
“Run,” Wendel rasped.
“Not without you,” Ardis said fiercely.
The clockwork dragon reared back, its wounded arm lame, and bared its fangs.
Waldemar, tipsy and armed with a rapier, marched to the dragon. He didn’t bother with a heroic pose, like Ardis thought he might, and thrust his rapier into the dragon’s armored belly. The rapier stuck between a crack, and the dragon scuttled back. Waldemar dropped the blade before he could be yanked with it.
Guests screamed and scrambled from the conservatory.
Ardis hauled Wendel from the conservatory and brought him to the hallway. Lady Maili and Lord Max waited there, braver than most, and they both steadied Wendel when he doubled over. A cough wracked his body.
Wendel wiped his mouth with a shaking hand. “Where’s Wolfram?”
“I don’t know,” Ardis said.
Maili stared at the conservatory. “There are still people in there.”
Ardis knew Maili had to be remembering the downfall of the ballroom in Vienna, when it was a miracle no one died.
Well, no one but the assassins sent to capture or kill Wendel.
“Let me go,” Wendel said. “I can fight.”
He shrugged off Max and Maili’s helping hands and straightened.
“You nearly drowned,” Max said, though he sounded more impressed than horrified.
“Wendel,” Ardis said. “We need to retreat.”
“Where?” Maili said.
Max pressed his hand to Maili’s back. The protective ferocity in his eyes made Ardis wish Wendel would do the same.
“The cellar,” Ardis said.
Determination steeled Wendel’s voice. “My dagger, please?”
Cathedral bells tolled an alarm. Ardis glanced at the black dagger in her hand. Dragon’s blood slicked the blade with iridescence. She returned the dagger to Wendel. His cold fingers lingered on hers, and he met her gaze. His eyes betrayed the tenderness of concern that he so carefully kept from his face.
She wanted to drag him into an embrace, but she settled for a nod.
Wolfram scrambled into the hallway. “Wendel!”
“Wolfie.” Wendel exhaled. “Stay close. Don’t do anything stupidly heroic.”
Dripping from the pool, Wolfram looked between them with bright eyes.
“The dragon,” he said. “How is the dragon so smart?”
Wendel grimaced. “You’re as bad as Konstantin.”
“Is it entirely clockwork? Or is it—”
Talons scraped the floor, followed by the rustling of steel scales. Wolfram’s back stiffened, and his face went bone white.
“Wolfram!” Wendel said. “Get—”
The clockwork dragon lunged from the conservatory and sank its fangs into Wolfram’s shoulder. Wolfram screamed. He tried to break free, but the dragon jerked him off his feet and shook him like a dog with a rabbit.
Bile soured Ardis’s throat. It wanted to snap his neck.
The dragon flung Wolfram across the conservatory. He crashed through a window and crumpled on the lawn. Wendel sprinted toward him, heedless of the dragon, and Ardis followed. Shards of glass clung to the window like crooked teeth. Wendel kicked them away, climbed through, and stumbled into the night.
Outside, Wolfram lay facedown on the lawn.
The dragon snapped at the heels of the fleeing guests. Ardis stepped through the broken window and sprinted from the conservatory.
Wendel skidded to his knees and flipped Wolfram over. Wolfram’s head lolled.
“Oh, God,” Wendel said. “Wolfie.”
Ardis stared down at them. “Is he…?”
Trembling, Wendel touched Wolfram’s neck. “He isn’t dead.”
Juliana hobbled across the lawn, her heels sinking into the grass.
“Wolfram?” she called. “Wendel?”
Glass chimed in a cascade. The dragon smashed through another window and clambered from the conservatory. Starlight glimmered off its scales, the red so dark it looked black. It crunched across the broken glass, driving shards into the earth, and lowered its head with a hiss. Ardis looked into the dragon’s gemstone eyes and saw a strange intelligence there, something that transcended clockwork and magic.
“Take my hand,” Wendel said.
The shadows of Amarant rippled over the necromancer, staining his skin with darkness. He disappeared against the night sky, no more than a patch of missing stars. He gripped her hand, and shadows bled from his skin to hers.
“Don’t let go,” Wendel said.
“I won’t,” Ardis said.
Wendel dragged her down to Wolfram. He touched the flat of the dagger to Wolfram’s hand and let the shadows blanket him.
The dragon crawled from the wreckage of the conservatory.
Ardis held her breath so it wouldn’t fog the air. She huddled by Wendel, who was shivering from the cold—or from the strain of hiding the three of them. She didn’t know how much the dagger drained his magic.
“Bloody hell,” Juliana said.
Juliana stared at the dragon for no more than a second, then did the sensible thing and kicked off her shoes. The dragon cocked its head. Juliana hurled her shoe at it. The heel hit it square in the eye. The dragon jerked back, blinking, and Juliana bolted for the castle. Barefoot, she zigzagged around broken glass.
The dragon snarled at Juliana, then slinked across the lawn.
Ardis sucked in a quick breath. Wendel clutched her hand so hard it hurt her bones. Wolfram stirred and moaned softly.
The dragon halted and tilted its head. Listening.
Across the river, the cathedral bells still tolled. The gonging echoed over the water.
Wolfram stirred. “Did I fall?”
Wendel hushed him with a hand over his mouth.
The dragon bent over them and sniffed the air. Ardis froze. The hot steam of its breath filled her nostrils. It smelled like brimstone, and an unearthly perfume—black cherries and smoke—that could only be magic.
Still shivering, Wendel struggled to stay motionless.
Wolfram opened his eyes. He let out a startled yelp, muffled by Wendel’s hand. The dragon hissed and bared its fangs.
Ardis tensed the muscles in her thighs. Ready to run.
Footsteps shook the earth. The dragon recoiled and faced its new opponent.
The Colossus automaton.
Natalya piloted the automaton over the bridge and across the river. The bridge quaked under the automaton. She stopped at the edge of the lawn and shouted at the dragon in Russian. Ardis hoped she wasn’t still drunk.
The dragon leapt into an attack.
Metal met metal in a deafening crash. The dragon reared for the cockpit. Natalya blocked, and the dragon bit the automaton’s arm. Fangs gouged the steel. Natalya braced herself, the automaton’s feet digging muddy gashes.
The dragon clamped down, but the automaton didn’t yield.
Natalya wedged her armored hand between the dragon’s jaws. She pried the jaws open, hinges screeching, and yanked her arm free. Natalya punched the dragon in the head. It staggered back, then rushed the Colossus.
Natalya sidestepped, though not nimbly enough.
The dragon tackled the automaton and knocked it down with the force of a small earthquake. The dragon clung to the automaton. The cockpit’s glass shattered under its claws. Natalya shoved the automaton’s elbow under the dragon and forced it away, then staggered to her feet and lunged into a charge.
With a burst of speed, Natalya caught the clockwork dragon by its wing.
The dragon hissed and writhed, biting at her legs, but she didn’t let go. She dragged it down to the river and hurled it into the water. Sinking, the dragon thrashed in the river, its tail churning it into whitewater.
The clockwork dragon sank to the bottom of the river. The water calmed.
Ardis and Wendel stood by Wolfram. Natalya turned to them, knelt in the automaton, and climbed down from the cockpit.
“Still in one piece?” Natalya said.
Ardis nodded, then shook her head.
Wolfram looked at his brother. “Did I fall?”
“You did,” Wendel said.
Natalya grunted and touched her ribs. She stared at her hand, red with blood.
“You aren’t in one piece yourself,” Ardis said.
She sounded much braver than she felt, her stomach sick with fear.
“Dragon’s claw,” Natalya muttered. “Stabbed me through the cockpit.”
Natalya swayed and sat on the ground. Ardis hoped some of that was thanks to the vodka, and not the severity of the wound.
Wolfram blinked. “Did I fall?” he repeated.
“What’s wrong, Wolfie?” Wendel said.
Wolfram didn’t seem to understand the question. His eyelids fluttered shut, and his back arched. His body began to convulse.
“Ardis!” Wendel said.
Her heartbeat kicked into higher gear. “He’s having a fit.”
“Help him. Please.”
The anguish in Wendel’s voice tore at Ardis.
“I can’t,” she said. “We have to wait for it to end.”
Wendel cradled his brother’s head in his hands, shielding Wolfram from the dirt, but he looked so powerless to help him.
Candlelight couldn’t chase the shadows from Königsberg Cathedral. Wendel waited just inside the doors, a hollow look in his eyes, and Ardis squeezed his hand. He startled, then squeezed back and lifted his head.
“We don’t have to do this,” Ardis said quietly.
Wendel shook his head. “I gave my word.”
He looked down the length of the cathedral. Ardis sucked in a slow breath. The sweetness of beeswax lingered in the air.
Juliana rose from a pew. “Thank you for coming.”
Wendel said nothing, but his mouth hardened.
“Please,” Juliana said, “pray with us.”
Ardis furrowed her brow. She didn’t tell Juliana that she didn’t believe in prayer, and she didn’t know if Wendel believed in anything anymore.
Juliana returned to the pew. Wendel joined her, his back stiff, and Ardis sat by him.
“Where are Mother and Father?” Wendel whispered.
Juliana glanced at him. “They will be here soon.”
The princess looked away, and her lips moved soundlessly in prayer.
Wendel lowered his head and let his eyelids close halfway. Ardis slid her hand to his knee, and he caught her fingers in his own. An ache burned in her throat. She didn’t know what to tell him, how to comfort him.
