by Karen Kincy
Ardis waved at him. “Wendel!”
He sheathed his dagger and crouched by the swamp. “Take my hand.”
“What? You can’t—”
Wendel grabbed the Eisenkrieger’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 Eisenkrieger from the mud.
“Climb out,” Wendel said.
“I can’t,” Ardis said.
His eyes narrowed. “Climb out of the Eisenkrieger.”
Ardis shoved at the cockpit door, but the thick muck trapped it shut.
“I can’t!” she said. “Find Steph.”
“Steph?”
“The other Eisenkrieger pilot. We split up.”
Wendel nodded, his jaw taut, and ran back through the forest.
The Eisenkrieger 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 Eisenkrieger. 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 Eisenkrieger. Ardis grabbed her hand. Together, they hauled the Eisenkrieger from the swamp. Ardis staggered onto solid ground, brought the Eisenkrieger 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 Eisenkrieger, 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 Eisenkrieger’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 Eisenkrieger. 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—
“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 Eisenkrieger 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 Eisenkrieger 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 Eisenkrieger 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 Eisenkrieger.
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 Eisenkrieger 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 fores
t. The canopy shivered as the clockwork dragon disappeared. The Cossacks, however, hadn’t yet retreated. They swarmed around the Colossus and tormented the Eisenkrieger with sabers. Natalya swatted at them as they attacked the vulnerable pneumatics behind the Eisenkrieger’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 Eisenkrieger. 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.”
NINETEEN
Ardis knelt in the back of the truck. Her kneecap ached. Biting the inside of her cheek, she checked the straps tying down her Eisenkrieger. 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 Eisenkriegers 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 Eisenkrieger 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.”
Wendel wrinkled his nose. “A normal woman? Why would I want that?”
“Because one of them would be more than happy to have your babies and get married and sweep some little cottage in Switzerland.”
“I don’t see how sweeping matters,” he said.
She snorted. “Somebody has to keep the cottage clean.”
“I would rather have a dirty little cottage with you.” Wendel’s eyes twinkled. “And rest assured, that isn’t a euphemism.”
“God, Wendel,” she said, “now you ruined Switzerland.”
“It doesn’t have to be Switzerland.”
She hesitated. “Where else would we go?”
“Wherever you want.”
Ardis pretended to sigh. “You can be very persuasive.”
“I know.” A smile crept over his face. “Is that a yes?”
“To what?”
“A future together. With the possible addition of a baby.”
She looked him in the eye. “Consider me persuaded.”
Wendel kissed her with gentle certainty. His hand curled around her neck and held her closer. Snow fell and hushed the sound of all but their heartbeats. Ardis melted in his arms, all her bruises and fears forgotten. He kissed her until she could only cling to him, and then he kissed her aga
in, on the curve of her neck.
“Are you cold?” Wendel said.
“A little,” Ardis said.
He drew back and arched an eyebrow.
“A lot,” she admitted.
Wendel climbed to his feet and clasped her hands. “Inside with you, woman.”
“You can’t call me that.”
His smile looked like it should accompany a halo. “Wife?”
Ardis grimaced. “Husband.”
“Darling,” he said.
“Sweetheart.”
“Little honeybee.”
She burst out laughing. “What the hell?”
Wendel tugged Ardis to her feet. She stumbled against him, and he held her there.
“No one has ever called you that?” he said.
“Not ever.”
“Good.”
Ardis rolled her eyes. “Jealous of hypothetical German men?”
“Should I be?”
“Let me think.” She paused. “No. You win.”
Ardis started to walk—or limp, rather—and Wendel supported her weight on his arm.
“You must be my prize,” he said.
She laughed. “Don’t act prehistoric.”
Wendel raised his eyebrows. “There must have been prehistoric necromancers.”
“That’s no excuse.”
“I wonder if they revived woolly mammoths? Or saber tooth tigers?”
Ardis tried hard not to laugh. “Please don’t ransack a museum.”
“That’s a brilliant idea.” Wendel grinned. “We can fight the Russians with bones.”
“Back to fighting the Russians?”
His grin faded. “For the time being. Before we decide on our future.”
Ardis didn’t like to see sadness in his eyes. She leaned her head against his shoulder.
“We can scheme more at the hotel,” she said.
Wendel kissed the side of her head, then blew on her hair.
“What?” she said.
“Snowflakes.”
“If you treat me like a china doll,” she teased, “I’ll break you.”
“You are Chinese.”
“Half.” She faked a glare. “And no part of me is delicate.”
“I beg to differ.”
She touched her belly. “Maybe a baby.”
Wendel frowned. “That would certainly require you to be careful.”
“I know, I know.”
