Wrath of the Dragon Father

WRAT WRATH H OF THE THE DRAGONFATHER Z ACHARY C. PARKER

Cover by

NÉSTOR NÉSTOR OS OSSA SANDÓN NDÓN

WRAT WRATH H OF THE THE DRAGONFATHER Z ACHARY C. PARKER

Cover by

NÉSTOR NÉSTOR OS OSSA SANDÓN NDÓN

Dedication Tis one is for Robyn, for all the pages we’ve turned.

Acknowledgements I’d like to thank Will Shick for helping to give the action that intangible edge and Doug Seacat for making me sound like a much better wordsmith than I am. I’d also like to thank Darla Kennerud, Matt Wilson, Matt Goetz, Mike Ryan, Dan Henderson, Kelsey Fox, and Lyle Lowery for their invaluable contributions.

CONTENTS

FOREWORD......................................................................................1 PROLOGUE .......................................................................................3 CHAPER 1: CONSANCE BLAIZE...............................................5 CHAPER 2: KRUEGER .................................................................11 CHAPER 3: VICORIA HALEY ...................................................15 CHAPER 4: SAERYN.....................................................................27 CHAPER 5: KRUEGER .................................................................30 CHAPER 6: SAERYN.....................................................................33 CHAPER 7: CONSANCE BLAIZE.............................................35 CHAPER 8: SAERYN.....................................................................43 CHAPER 9: VICORIA HALEY ...................................................44 CHAPER 10: KRUEGER ...............................................................56 CHAPER 11: VICORIA HALEY .................................................58

CHAPER 12: SAERYN...................................................................63 CHAPER 13: VICORIA HALEY .................................................65 CHAPER 14: BROGAN CORLEY ................................................78 CHAPER 15: VICORIA HALEY .................................................81 CHAPER 16: SAERYN...................................................................83 CHAPER 17: VICORIA HALEY .................................................85 CHAPER 18: SAERYN...................................................................89 CHAPER 19: VICORIA HALEY .................................................92 CHAPER 20: LORUS ..................................................................99 CHAPER 21: CONSANCE BLAIZE .........................................103 CHAPER 22: LORUS ................................................................107 CHAPER 23: VICORIA HALEY ...............................................112 CHAPER 24: NIDOBOROS .......................................................117 CHAPER 25: LORUS ................................................................119 CHAPER 26: VICORIA HALEY ...............................................123 CHAPER 27: SAERYN.................................................................136 CHAPER 28: LORUS ................................................................140

CHAPER 29: VICORIA HALEY ...............................................143 CHAPER 30: SAERYN.................................................................146 CHAPER 31: VICORIA HALEY ...............................................149 CHAPER 32: KRUEGER .............................................................152 CHAPER 33: VICORIA HALEY ...............................................155 CHAPER 34: SAERYN.................................................................163 CHAPER 35: KRUEGER .............................................................166 CHAPER 36: VICORIA HALEY ...............................................168 CHAPER 37: LORUS ................................................................174 CHAPER 38: BLIGHERGHAS ..............................................176 CHAPER 39: VICORIA HALEY ...............................................182 CHAPER 40: KRUEGER .............................................................184 CHAPER 41: LYLYH .................................................................186

FOREWORD Everyone likes dragons. And by liking them I mean we are afraid of them and excited to see them in action. Whether in books or movies or games, we always hope they will come across as fearsome and awe-inspiring as our imagination wants them to be. In a dragon, we see a creature as gigantic and primordial as a dinosaur, but one with keen intelligence, virtual immortality, and the power to burn down and consume the world, if left unchecked. From the beginning when we created the Iron Kingdoms setting, we endeavored to create dragons worthy of the name, making them not only powerful but also alien. Our dragons are unknowable creatures that are more gods than living beings. Within the heart of each is a crystal, an athanc—their core essence. Tis is an inexhaustible power source that generates blighted radiation inimical to life and that warps and changes anything it touches. So long as the athanc endures, a dragon can remake its body time and again. Tis makes them fascinating creatures but also perilous ones to harness, both in the setting and as writers! Our dragons have remained largely at the fringes of our setting. oruk, the Dragonfather, their source and creator, is the god and emperor of the Nightmare Empire of Cryx, but he has rested in his palace unseen by the outside world for centuries. His progeny have been locked in a cold-war stalemate for sixteen centuries, every other dragon ready to answer the call to action should their father make a move against them. Tis has kept these creatures in remote

WRATH OF THE DRAGONFATHER ZACHARY C. PARKER •

places, vigilant but unmoving. Naturally, then, we couldn’t leave well enough alone. You can’t have such fascinating and interesting monsters and not use them. We had to poke the bear. Tis novella describes a tumultuous and continent-shaking clash that has been a long time coming. We started poking our dragons to stir in our miniature game book fiction back in 2008 within the pages of HORDES: Metamorphosis, at which point we set on a course that would have dire consequences for everyone in our setting. Te roller coaster ride that occupies the pages of “Wrath of the Dragonfather” has roots and tendrils in a number of our stories over the last eight years, and it was a real treat to see all those pieces finally come together in this action-packed conclusion. Zach did a great job with one of the most daunting writing assignments we’ve ever given anyone. Tis was made doubly challenging by the need to make the story satisfying and selfcontained, a task he achieved beyond all my expectations. Tat said, a small word of caution is probably in order for new readers, just so they are aware they are about to dive headfirst into a conflict already well underway. Tis shouldn’t discourage anyone from taking the plunge, especially if you happen to enjoy dragons, and particularly if you want to see dragons chasing trains. You’re in for a wild ride.

Douglas Seacat Senior Writer and Continuity

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PROLOGUE T he

necroservitor landed on the cobblestone streets of Skell just as dusk settled around the Cryxian capital like a shroud. Te pair of insectile wings protruding from its skull carapace had worked laboriously to carry the machine over the thin strip of ocean separating the Scharde Islands from the mainland, and the components that allowed them to function had failed, worn down to nothing. Te servitor’s wings now twitched uselessly in their joints with sporadic, jerking movements. Te metallic, spider-like legs that extended from the bottom of its jawless skull carried the servitor on now, navigating the winding streets with a rhythmic clacking. Monolithic buildings comprised of native black stone reached up to fade into the night sky, and the chants of the Dragonfather’s lesser priests poured from the city’s temples even at this late hour. Te machine skittered onward, unconcerned with the comings and goings of those on the streets. Cowled figures regarded the servitor in its passing, and all gave it a wide berth, for all could recognize the machine as a servant of Lich Lord Malathrax, spymaster of the Nightmare Empire. Te night wind whistled as it blew through the eye sockets of the servitor’s skull, and gusts of ash and grit clung to and rattled inside the machine’s cranium. Within its own small mind, the servitor held a collection of memories from the spymaster himself detailing recent events. Much rose and fell with the schemes of the lich lords over the ages, but now the machine carried a message not heard for millennia.


Tat which Lord oruk, the Dragonfather, sought with all his being had been found and was now at risk of being lost once more. A disembodied dragon athanc was loose on the mainland. Te messenger twisted and turned with the streets until at last the greatest cathedral of the Dragonfather loomed above, countless braziers and torches leading the way, each burning with undying green flame. Te pistons of the thin metal legs hissed as the servitor took the black stairs two at a time. Pillars superior in height to any structure below lined the temple’s face, seeming to grow larger as the machine climbed, and in the spacing between each, something shifted in the shadows like an ever-reforming nightmare. A far grander structure towered on the mountainside above. Te great palace of Lord oruk looked down upon all, and it was there the dark god of the Nightmare Empire surveyed his kingdom of ash and dread. And as the servitor made the arduous climb to the temple where the lich lord that served as the greatest of oruk’s priests would receive it and hear its message, the machine thought of nothing but completing its goal—delivering a memory from one great mind to another. It could not know or care that the memories it carried would stir the wrath of a god.

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CHAPTER 1: CONSTANCE BLAIZE “No sign of trouble above,” a stern but familiar voice said. Battle Chaplain Brogan Corley descended the rickety stairs into the hold. Te priest was a veteran among the Church’s defenders, his face lined with age. Corley had served under Constance Blaize for many years as both officer and spiritual advisor, and she was grateful to have him along now. “A welcomed reprieve after these last days,” Blaize said, eyes fixed on the massive Cryxian apparatus that dominated the ship’s hold. It was a complicated arrangement of machines and moving parts. A steel box six feet on a side hovered at the center of a series of spinning metal rings. Tese rings created a glowing field around the box and seemed to be powered by the dozen steam engines that were bolted to a wagon, forming the base. Te engines labored to produce sufficient energy to maintain whatever mystical containment the box was creating. No one on the ship could claim to fully understand the mechanism or how it worked. She watched the massive black iron rings circle the box in their hypnotic way. Blaize said, “Lord General Stryker asked that we move the artifact to Hook Fort, and I intend to see it done. However, I don’t want this thing onboard one minute longer than necessary.” A sickly trail of greenish smoke billowed up from the contraption’s many stacks. Rather than burning coal, each of the engines had been modified by Cryx to instead consume necrotite, a foul, coal-


like material formed beneath bloody battlegrounds or other places where the living have died torturously. “Tese toxic fumes are bad enough—we need to be careful no one spends too much time exposed to them. Morrow knows what other dangers this artifact holds.” She had sensed something powerful and malevolent inside the box, an unholy presence that had prompted her to recommend capturing the contraption from Cryx rather than destroying it, fearing they would let loose something imprisoned within. It had been on her premonition that they had embarked on this expedition. “Faith armors us against such evil,” Corley stated. He craned his neck up to follow the smoke as it drifted upward, toward the open sky. “As does the wisdom of keeping the ship’s hold open.” “I wonder if it was wise to risk so many of the souls of my brothers and sisters on such an unknown. I may have led us astray.” “It is a risk we are all willing to take in Morrow’s name,” Corley said. “We trust your instincts.” “Te machine is failing, Corley,” Blaize said. “What? Are you certain?” “Tis energy field it creates, it’s not the same as it was when we first seized it. Something has changed.” When Blaize had first sighted the wagon during the battle on the shores of the Dragon’s ongue River, the energy field surrounding the box and rings had been silver in hue. Now the field’s energy shone a more sickly yellow. From time to time, the rings would slow in their revolutions, and the intensity of the light would flicker before being restored. “It’s weakening. I can feel a weight upon my mind, like some dark presence struggling to be free.” She stared harder at the Cryxian machine, as if she might pierce its veil of mystery with her gaze. Corley was silent for several moments, and then Blaize felt him place a mailed hand on her pauldron. “Your first instincts were

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right. Morrow meant us to take this artifact from the Cryxians. We must trust we possess the strength to bring this burden to its conclusion, by his grace.“ Blaize took in a deep breath, feeling Corley’s conviction restore her own. “As always, my old friend, your faith lends strength to us all.” Tere was a clatter to one side as a junior mechanik tossed down a wrench and emerged from behind a battered Centurion. Her brow was drenched in sweat and multiple grease stains streaked across her face and forearms. “Tamar’s teeth!” the mechanik shouted. “Damned Sancteum modifications! Tey should stick to praying and leave the machines to professionals!” She gave the towering warjack a hard kick with her boot. Tat she had not realized the battle chaplain and knight of the prophet were present and listening to her was clear when she turned to find them right behind her. Her face went red and her eyes went wide. “I mean . . .Oh, bugger me . . .” she stammered. Blaize raised her hands. “No need to worry, Reynolds. We’ve heard worse. I’ve even uttered a profanity or two myself in the heat of battle.” “Just in the heat of battle, eh?” Corley said, a hint of mirth in his voice. “Yes, well then, thank you ma’am,” the mechanik said, still clearly flustered. She motioned to the pair of Centurions, which included the one she had recently kicked. “Tey may not pass parade muster, but these two are as combat ready as I can get them. Tey’ll need some real time in a shop to fix the deeper underlying damage.” “Excellent. I have no doubt we will have need of their strength.” Blaize reached out with her mind and touched each of the machines’ cortexes, allowing herself a moment to savor their power and readiness.

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On the other side of the cargo hold, Gallant, Blaize’s personal warjack, issued a low rumble and the occasional burst of steam as it idled. Like the Centurions, Gallant was armored in the colors of the Church of Morrow. While originally built on the Cygnaran Ironclad chassis, Gallant had been heavily modified by Sancteum mechaniks and smiths. Its sword and buckler were adorned with sigils and embellishments that signified its place of honor in the arsenal of the Church. A pair of chains strapped a copy of the Prayers for Battle to the top of Gallant’s hull, a larger version of the same tome carried by the church’s defenders. It was the holy text of all Morrowan knights, including the Precursors and the Knights of the Prophet, containing the writings of Morrow as well as the Martial rinity of ascendants—Katrena, Markus, and Solovin. Gallant had been built to embody the fighting philosophies of those holy figures, its cortex had been imprinted with them, making the warjack as much a battle brother as a weapon of war. Blaize had kept her warjacks here, close to the Cryxian artifact, to ensure it was protected by incorruptible guardians. But the fact was most of her warjacks had also been damaged in the last battle, and Reynolds had been kept busy restoring them. Tat battle along the Dragon’s ongue had involved a larger force led by Lord General Coleman Stryker, but at its end he had entrusted Blaize to guide the ship they had seized to its destination. At her direction, they had steamed through the recently besieged river city of Point Bourne, stopping only briefly to resupply on coal, before heading down the Banwick River on which they now traveled. Te sight of their coal supply reminded Blaize of one of their concerns. Such fuel was adequate for keeping the engines of her warjacks restocked but would not suffice for the stranger Cryxian machines powering the containment field. Tey had nearly

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exhausted the supply of foul necrotite in the ship’s hold. Te Cryxians had intended to get this machine all the way to Cryx, so they must have had another vessel loaded with that fuel or had expected to resupply on the way. From what Blaize knew of necrotite, the fuel could burn far longer and more efficiently than coal. Cryxian warjacks that relied upon it had smaller fuel reserves but could operate longer in the field. But how much longer these engines could run, none could guess. All she could do was pray there was enough left within their hoppers to maintain the field until they reached their final destination. Te river had been difficult and presented obstacles already, as their boat had not been built for this route. Any delays they faced threatened to compromise the mechanism which she suspected both kept something unholy imprisoned and also protected them from its influence. She could imagine no other purpose, for all her prayers and contemplation. Corley cleared his throat, bringing Blaize out of her thoughts. She said, “Very well. Let us go topside. Musing over this machine in the dark while breathing necrotite fumes won’t do anything to improve matters.” Corley nodded. “Besides, it will do the faithful good to see your face. Everyone needs a light to follow.” “Perhaps,” Blaize said. Te two of them strode from the hold. A dozen Precursor knights strode about on the deck, brothers and sisters armored by their faith. Te trenchers likewise patrolled from bow to stern. Most of the regular army infantry with Blaize had been loaned to her by Stryker after the river battle, and they had integrated smoothly with her own Church forces, the men establishing an easy accord with one another. Still, Blaize had laid many of her own troops to rest after the last battle, and she was not the only one in mourning for them. It would be a misstep to hide

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away when her knights needed her. As they reached the top of the stairs, Blaize looked over her shoulder at the hovering cube once more, and she could not shake the dread building in her chest. She muttered a prayer under her breath, asking for the engines to keep running a little longer. Just a little longer.

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CHAPTER 2: KRUEGER K rueger the Stormlord levitated amid the towering obelisks of Nettle’s Rock, his heavy black cloak billowing and flapping about his slender form from the unnatural power that kept him aloft. He had chosen this location deep within the Wyrmwall Mountains for both its isolation and its exceptional conjunction with the ley lines that spanned western Immoren—a conjunction of power key to completing the scheme he had set in motion so long ago when he had made his pact with the dragon Blighterghast. His body turned in slow rotations as he focused, but he was only dimly aware of his own physicality. Concentrated on the preparations at hand, his mind was awash in the power of the ley lines flowing beneath the site. He had risked much to follow his current course of action, defying all three omnipotents—the highest-ranking leaders of the Circle Orboros—for which he had nearly received a death sentence, but his plans were close to fruition. No fewer than two dozen druids clad in black garb added their elemental powers to the preparation, and half as many animated stone constructs stalked through the scant trees surrounding the ring of sacred stones. A sound like the cracking of granite rolled over the site. A flash of light filled the ring of stones and threw the obelisks into sharp relief, causing Kruger to shield his eyes. When he lowered his hand, Lortus, an omnipotent of the order, floated before him.


Te omnipotent was a thin man, almost frail in appearance, though Kruger knew nothing could be further from the truth. Black scar tissue marred half of the druid’s face and neck, remnants of past exposure to dragon blight. Te southern Circle holdings, the Wyrmwall included, were Lortus’ domain, and his displeasure at finding Krueger conducting an unsanctioned ritual in his territory was apparent from the scowl twisting his mouth. He looked about him, taking stock of the many blackclads and wolds at Krueger’s command. “What is the meaning of this gathering?” Lortus demanded. “Te ley lines are plagued with blight, and here I find you, precisely where you shouldn’t be.” Krueger met the omnipotent’s gaze. “I have done all that is required of me to mend the ley lines. Even now I work toward dealing our enemies a crippling blow.” Lortus scoffed. “Do not seek to treat me like the fools who follow you. You serve no cause but your own empowerment.” Krueger scowled, his tattooed forehead becoming a series of deep, angry furrows. “I do what the rest of you would not,” Krueger said, his voice a dangerous growl. Flush with power as he was connected to the holy site and surrounded by so many wolds, Krueger felt confident that even Lortus could not contest him here and now. “You all know the danger Everblight represents—the damage his mere existence causes to the body of Orboros. You know better than any of us that the only way to stop a dragon is to turn others of its kind against it. Yet you and the others refuse to take risks, to take the bold and decisive actions required for victory.” “Is this how you excuse yourself for corrupting the ley lines with dragon blight?” Lortus’ eyes flashed with anger. Krueger folded his arms and stared back. “You have no idea what I have done. What I have sacrificed because you lack strength

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of conviction. All of my actions are to further the higher purposes of our order, goals it seems most of you have forgotten.” Lightning suddenly split the sky, called forth by Krueger’s boiling anger. Lortus’ hands went to the fighting daggers sheathed at his waist. Not wishing to provoke a violent confrontation, Krueger pushed his anger down, regaining control of the immense natural forces flowing through him. While he felt confident in his current position, Krueger knew a clash with Lortus now would do nothing but imperil his ritual. Lortus looked past Krueger, staring intently at something on a nearby mountain peak. Krueger followed the omnipotent’s gaze to a hunched man swaddled in black robes, leaning heavily on a white staff. Tough the distance was great, the Stormlord recognized the figure at once as the emissary of the dragon Blighterghast. Krueger had spoken to the dragon in person only once, and otherwise it was through the emissary that their arrangements had been made— conversations made unpleasant by the open sores and the smell of decay that clung to the dragon’s servant, his body rotted through after prolonged exposure to intense blighted energies. “Have you become so blinded by your pride that you cannot see how in defying us you have become enslaved by Blighterghast?” Lortus asked, his voice suddenly heavy. “I warned you not to stir the dragons to action. You defied my counsel at every turn.” “I have chosen my path. And I intend to see it through to its conclusion.” Lortus stared at Krueger for several long moments. As he finally opened his mouth to speak, a flash of light and a boom of thunder sounded, and a hooded wayfarer appeared and approached Lortus, head bowed. “Forgive the intrusion, Omnipotent. Your presence is requested by Mohsar and Dahlekov on urgent matters regarding the Eastern Dominion.”

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Lortus’ expression soured. “Tank you,” he said to the wayfarer, then turned again to Krueger. “Heed my words, Stormlord. I will not warn you again.” With that, the omnipotent disappeared in a swirl of wind and lightning, the ground above which he had hovered now charred from his departure. Whatever business had called him away, Krueger could only hope it kept Lortus busy for a time. He returned to his preparations. Te timing for the ritual was at hand.

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CHAPTER 3: VICTORIA HALEY Marching

side by side with half a dozen rangers and an accompaniment of warjacks, Major Victoria Haley felt like her old self again. It had been too long since she had been able to fulfill her role as a Cygnaran officer and warcaster, and a swell of satisfaction came with the simple act of carrying out her duty. She held her mechanikal spear Echo tightly in her grip, and her new voltaic power armor—fashioned by Artificer General Sebastian Nemo himself—buzzed pleasantly in her ears, reminding her of the resumption of her warcaster talents and her friendship with the grizzled and eccentric artificer. Tough the winter of 609 AR was upon her, the weather of the Wyrmwall’s northern-most foothills remained mild, and the combination of fresh air and the scent of pine on the trail she now hiked helped encapsulate all of the portions of life that her free spirit had missed in the darkness of the last few weeks, when she had been poisoned and on death’s door. Te memory of her death and miraculous rebirth caused her to unconsciously look at her recently restored right arm. She had lost it in battle against her corrupted twin sister, Deneghra, nearly five years ago. Yet through a mystical transformation she still did not entirely understand, she had regained it, together with her powers and her life. A second chance at life and a new arm hadn’t been the only things Haley had gained from her brush with death. Her newly


awoken powers had brought her a fresh perception of the world and the flow of time. Now and then she willed the threads of fate to become visible. Golden strands of light stretched forth from the chest of each ranger, all of them leading down the winding path and through the trees spread out before them. Haley had come to learn that these threads often branched in places, possibly representing choices possessed by their owner. Here and there other threads of the rangers led off the trail or turned back, but these alternatives faded as the group moved on. Te exact nature of the choices surrounding individuals and what ultimately decided the outcome remained a puzzle to Haley, and since gaining this sometimes unreliable sight she had spent some time trying to deduce exactly how it worked and whether it was an advantage or a distraction. It was this new sight that had compelled her to undertake the mission she was on now. Upon awakening, she had a presentiment of some great darkness arising in the Wyrmwall Mountains and knew at once she must confront it. rying to explain the nature of the threat she had perceived had been nearly impossible, but she had earned enough respect through her military service and her undeniable arcane talent that she had convinced her superiors to allow this expedition. Te truth was she had not been declared ready for active duty, so her superiors thought a trek into the interior was better than sending her to the front lines. Accordingly, her request for the mission had been approved with little fuss. wo ’jacks accompanied the small strike team of CRS rangers and trenchers—her personal Lancer, Torn, and a battered Ironclad nicknamed Skillet. Torn had served under Haley against Cryx along the Broken Coast during the earliest years of her career, and she had come to rely on the warjack above all others. Skillet was well liked among Cygnar’s trenchers, who had given

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the ’jack its moniker during a particularly harsh winter spent battling the Khadorans at the northern border. With firewood hard to come by, the trencher platoon to which Skillet had been assigned had the bright idea to use the Ironclad’s boiler to cook their meals. In no time, the ’jack’s culinary “skills” had become famous among the entire company. However, while Skillet might have been a fine companion and cooking aide for its fellow soldiers, Haley found the machine’s cortex somewhat dim-witted compared to others of its ilk. Te warjack reminded her of an old boxer who had suffered one too many knockouts in the ring. A horse-drawn wagon of coal and the contingent of rangers made up the middle of the column, the latter regularly taking shifts to venture into the surrounding woods or to scout ahead for potential threats. Arlan Strangewayes, one of Cygnar’s most renowned mechaniks, also marched with the group, his custom armor issuing the occasional hiss of steam. Smoke trailed from the pipe clamped between his teeth. His addition had been an unexpected boon, something she took as a sign her superiors must not have been too skeptical of her mission. Either that, or they were just being protective of the valuable hardware installed in Torn. Te path they followed was winding and overgrown, nothing more than an old game trail and far from the nearest major road. Like the Banwick River it followed, the route was a wandering and jagged line leading steadily south into the difficult terrain of the Wyrmwall Mountains. Haley had briefly considered taking a boat down the rough waters of the Banwick but had ultimately dismissed the notion in favor of an overland hike. Unlike the Dragon’s ongue, the waters of the Banwick were unwelcoming to river boats, its waters rough and strewn with boulders. Knowing time was of the essence, Haley dedicated much of her arcane ability to maintaining a bubble of time dilation around

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the strike force. Under her influence, the group traversed the path rapidly, not due to them actually moving faster but instead caused by accelerating time in their immediate vicinity. For the most part, the alteration to the flow of time went unnoticed by those affected. It was only when they focused on distant branches swaying in the wind or a squirrel scurrying from tree to tree that Haley’s power became evident, for it all seemed to move in slow motion. A hydraulic hiss signaled the approach of Arlan Strangewayes, pipe still smoking in his mouth and a massive wrench resting over one armored shoulder. “I can’t say it feels right, marching off for the Wyrmwall while the rest of the army is fighting in the Tornwood,” Arlan said, “but I’m sure you have your reasons.” Haley nodded. “I understand how you feel. But sometimes enemies crop up in more than one place at a time. We’re going where we have to be. Tat’s all. You’ll have to trust me.” Strangewayes drew on his pipe and exhaled a cloud of smoke. “I take it this has something to do with Constance Blaize and the captured boat that went through Point Bourne?” “In part, yes,” Haley said. Arlan had more sense than just that of the mechanikal variety. “You’re obviously aware of the clash Stryker had with erminus? After the lich lord was defeated, Stryker’s troops recovered something. An artifact Cryx had been trying to smuggle home under our noses. He put Blaize in charge of securing it. I can’t explain exactly how I know what I know, but Blaize isn’t ready for the fight that’s coming. She needs our help. Tey’ve kicked a nasty hornet’s nest.” Te mechanik removed his pipe from his mouth and tapped some ash out and onto the ground. “You saw this? Some kind of vision?” His tone was skeptical but not outright dismissive. “Something like that,” Haley said. “I can see the possibilities, the potential outcomes.” Her words felt unconvincing even as

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she spoke them. It was for this reason she had told the others as little as possible. Unlike some of their enemies, most Cygnarans were practical people, preferring logic and rationality over mystical portents. She didn’t like being put in the position of being a prophet. It reminded her uncomfortably of what she’d heard of the Harbinger of the Protectorate—a woman who sent armies to their deaths based on private conversations with a god. “Call it a gut feeling, if you like.” Strangewayes nodded, mulling over the statement. “I can’t claim to understand it, but I know you well enough to give you the benefit of the doubt.” He offered a smile that reassured Haley about her decision to fill him in on her motivations. Strangewayes was as levelheaded as they came, someone she considered a friend, and she was glad she could share her thoughts without the burdens of ranks and regulations. Haley smiled back, and the two walked on together in silence.

Tey continued wordlessly for the better part of an hour, until a sudden sense of apprehension prickled at the back of Haley’s mind. While no visual cue accompanied the sensation, it was somehow akin to the darkness they marched toward, and she brought her spear Echo to the ready. She raised a hand to halt the column of troops marching behind her. For a time, she merely listened, the wind rustling the branches of the pines and the horses occasionally pawing at the ground with their hooves. She knew the trenchers behind her were confused by the sudden halt—her rangers were scouting the perimeter and had raised no alarm. She let out a high whistle and waited for the rangers to return the all-clear signal. Only silence answered. Strangewayes leaned in to speak to her, perhaps to ask a question,

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when a cry of surprise went up amid the trees on the left flank. But it was promptly cut off. A trencher. Haley looked back to the group, but the rest of the trenchers were already in motion, positioning themselves behind the trunks of trees and peering down the sights of their rifles into the dense undergrowth. With the tight spacing of the trees, whatever was out there would be on top of them before they would see it. Torn took a defensive stance beside Haley, and Skillet positioned itself just beyond the trenchers, prepared to intercept any threat and deliver a strike from its quake hammer. Suddenly, there was a crack of gunfire and the sounds of several bodies rushing through the surrounding wood. Before anyone could react, several bloodied rangers burst from the undergrowth, moving as if the Devourer Wurm itself were behind them. Something big within the tree line surged forward, just behind the fleeing rangers, snapping branches and saplings underfoot. Te ground shook, and in the next moment, the enemy burst forth from the foliage. Bluish-white skin stretched over powerful, rippling muscle, atop which sat layers of dark scales. With a bellowing roar from its fanged maw, the creature came on, slashing through the underbrush with the massive scythes that composed the entirety of its forearms. Te crackle of gunfire filled the air as the trenchers fired, but the shots bounced off the scaled armor like gnats off a buffalo. “Dragonspawn,” Haley whispered, though no one heard her. Skillet was already moving into the creature’s path, and Haley sent her will to guide the opening strike of its quake hammer, but the beast was faster than she anticipated. Before the Ironclad could even draw its weapon back to swing, the dragonspawn’s cleaver-like arm descended to shear the warjack’s right arm off at the elbow. Oil and hydraulic fluid pumped from the arm like arterial spray as the

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limb and hammer fell to the dirt. Before the ’jack or Haley could react, the second scything talon struck Skillet’s chassis and punched through its armored hull with horrifying ease, puncturing the warjack’s boiler. Hot steam burst from the wound with a rushing hiss. Feeling Skillet’s strength already beginning to drop, Haley mentally guided its remaining hand to catch the beast’s counterstrike mid-swing. Te whine of servos and gears meshed with the guttural growls of the dragonspawn as steam and steel struggled against muscle and sinew. Te ’jack’s ruptured boiler continued to vent steam. She sent a different mental command, and the warjack snapped forward to deliver a devastating head-butt. Bone gave way to metal with a sickening crunch, and the beast tumbled backward with its limbs slashing wildly. Skillet followed, pressing the advantage with overhand blows from its remaining fist, but Haley knew it wouldn’t be enough to finish the creature. A pair of smaller beasts rushed from the underbrush, moving swiftly on all fours like predatory cats. One lashed out with a barbed tail as it passed, carving a great slash down the back of a ranger. Te other darted directly toward Haley and transitioned into a leap. From the corner of her eye, she could see Torn moving to intercept the new arrival, but the smaller beasts were even faster than the one battling Skillet. Instinctively, she extended her free hand and cast a spell with a flare of runes. Torn closed the gap with a burst of arcane speed in time, and the beast collided with the ’jack’s heavy shield. Te creature held tight to the shield, swiping its claws over the top. Te second cat-like dragonspawn tackled the nearest trencher and tore out the man’s throat with a single bite. Te beast twitched as bullets from the fallen soldier’s companions tore into the exposed portions of its body, but it kept tearing at the man until Arlan

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Strangewayes brought the weight of his wrench down to break the creature’s back. Alarm reached Haley through her connection with Skillet, and she turned to see the beast with the scythed talons rise up to strike back against the Ironclad with its deadly forearms once again. Te twin talons sheared through the chassis and devastated the inner workings of the machine. With its last strength, Skillet delivered one final blow, a strong left hook across its adversary’s face, before collapsing against its opponent. Te beast shrugged off Skillet’s feeble embrace, sending the machine clattering to the ground. With the Ironclad out of commission, the beast turned on Strangewayes. Te mechanik had just lifted his wrench from the broken back of the lesser warbeast when he looked up to see the monstrous creature charge his position. Haley’s blood went cold as she realized the mechanik would be torn apart. With Skillet out of the fight and Torn otherwise engaged, she had no machine left to stop the avalanche of teeth and claws. She took a step forward, spear at the ready, and the world around her seemed to slow. She watched in horror as the beast’s jaw opened to the point of nearly unhinging, and the scythes of its arms swung down on Strangewayes even as he brought his wrench around to block the blow. He was going to die here, she thought, just like the rest of her men had, on a hastily planned mission based on nothing but her intuition. Teir blood would be on her hands. As the scythes completed their motion, Arlan’s body suddenly faded, becoming insubstantial. Te beast charged clean through the mechanik, stumbling in confusion from having passed through its intended target. Arlan likewise stumbled to the side, miraculously still in one piece, his wrench lifted defensively but never contacting the enemy. His pipe fell from his gaping mouth to spill ashes in the dirt.

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Haley felt the presence of another warcaster in the back of her mind, and she felt a peculiar sense of recognition when she turned to see a woman clad in Cygnaran blue floating above the ground nearby. Te woman was also insubstantial, the backdrop of trees visible through her ghostly form. A flowing cape trailed behind the ethereal woman. Beneath it, Haley saw voltaic armor that, while similar to her own, included elements she had never seen before. An array of larger coils stretched out from the woman’s back like crackling blue wings. Te newcomer had gray hair, her face clearly older. Despite the goggles concealing her eyes, Haley recognized herself in the stranger’s face. Te figure inclined her head toward Haley, as if waiting for direction, but said nothing. She felt a glimmer of a memory, something from her near-death experience. She had seen this person before. Te scythe-armed dragonspawn roared and righted itself, digging its clawed feet into the earth for traction as it launched a second charge at Strangewayes, who now appeared to be of flesh and blood once more. “Move!” Haley shouted. She sprinted into the path of the charging beast, spear held out before her. While she didn’t understand how, she had been given a second chance to save the mechanik’s life, and she was not about to stand by and do nothing, even if it meant sacrificing her own life in the effort. She slid down on one knee, Echo angled upward in the hope of impaling the beast on its own weight, though she knew the act would likely crush her even with the added protection of her warcaster armor. Bracing for impact, she let loose a battle cry, eyes wide with determination rather than fear. She felt the arrival of yet another warcaster and another wave of familiarity. She was not surprised this time as another figure charged from the trees. Tis was a young woman, clothes tattered

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and laden with the dust of the road. A braid of golden hair flew out behind her as she ran with her palms out at her sides, flickers of lightning forming around her splayed fingers as blue runes blazed into existence. Haley’s heart stopped. Tis time she was certain the face was her own from years past—a reflection she knew as intimately as her own soul. Te Haley of years past gave her own battle cry with the clap of thunder, and a bolt of arcane energy struck the rampaging beast full in the chest and hurled it back to collide with and splinter the trunks of trees. Te beast howled in a mixture of pain and rage, and the incorporeal young woman pressed the attack, rushing forward to deliver a series of telekinetic strikes as she swung her fists through the open air. Armored and spiny hide cracked and bruised under the assault, and the beast let out a final bellow before falling still, its tongue hanging limp from the side of its mouth. ogether, the remaining soldiers had joined with Torn to dispatch the last of the beasts. Te skirmish was over. Te survivors gathered around the transparent specters whose sudden arrival had prevented further losses. Haley knew what the others didn’t: both of the spectral forms were iterations of herself, as if drawn from the mists of time. Te girl was a phantom from her youth, when her powers had been newly awoken. She stood resolute and with an almost cocksure attitude. Te older woman she knew must have been drawn from some possible future—the older Haley projected wisdom and experience. She continued to float above the ground as if comfortable there. Whether this was due to her powers or some technology of her armor, Haley could not have said. “Morrow preserve me,” Strangewayes said, though Haley had never thought him to be a particularly religious man. “Saved by ghosts.” “Not ghosts,” Haley said, examining the younger version of

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herself. Te girl’s eyes were filled with indignation and anger, arising from a deep pain, from a time when those who had been raising her had sought to quash her power, to make her feel shame about her talents. Haley stepped forward to touch the apparition, and her younger self skipped back out of reach. Tere was willfulness there, but Haley sensed the girl would obey her mental commands in battle much as Torn might. Next, she looked at the older version of herself, a woman who still looked vigorous and strong, her hair prematurely gone gray. Was this face ten or twenty years older than her own? She was unsure. “Tey’re projections. Echoes. Versions of me from time’s stream. Past and Future.” Haley reached out to the projections with her will. Past was an open book, her story personal and familiar. Future, on the other hand, was an enigma. Tere was a barrier there, a shroud Haley could not look past, but a powerful connection united them still. She was not meant to know her possible future. Just the same, Haley could sense as-yet unexplored arcane talents there. With a thought, she willed Future to action. Future raised her palms skyward, and spell runes flared into being around her. In the next instant, a feat more miraculous than the spell that had saved Strangewayes from certain death spread throughout the group. Gasps went up from the surviving rangers as time seemed to reverse for their fallen comrades. Blood welled up from the soil to replenish the fallen and shattered bones became whole. Wounds closed as swiftly as they had opened, flesh seamlessly restored to its former state. When the last traces of violence were erased, the once-slain rangers opened their eyes and sat up, blinking as if shaking off a bad dream. Te task complete, Haley staggered back and leaned against the base of a nearby tree. Tough Future had invoked the magic, Haley had felt the drain herself, a dull throbbing beginning in her

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temples. Tey were extensions of her, and it was her reservoir of power they drew upon. As she steadied herself, Future and Past first faded and then disappeared, returning to wherever her mind had summoned them from to begin with. “Major?” Strangewayes asked, clapping Haley on the shoulder. “I’m fine. Just need a moment.” She straightened, leaning against Echo. As she watched the rangers welcome their fallen back to the world of the living, she was reminded of how little she actually knew about the extent of her newly awakened control over the flow of time. She deduced the stress of the combat and especially the imminent threat to Strangewayes’ life had allowed her to manifest these other selves. Intuitively, she knew this power was akin to the one that had restored her life when she had been poisoned. Te projections were gone for now, but she felt certain she could will them back into existence when she had the need. Tey were tools and weapons in her arsenal now, akin to the spear she wielded and the warjacks she controlled. Strangewayes watched her for a time before he strode over to where Skillet lay face down in the dirt, stopping midway to retrieve his pipe from the ground. Te last wisps of steam escaped from the Ironclad’s damaged chassis with a whimper. “I don’t claim to have the slightest notion of what it is that just happened,” Strangewayes said, “but there isn’t any chance you could do me a favor and put Skillet back together? Would save me a lot of time and headache. No? Didn’t think so.”

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CHAPTER 4: SAERYN Saeryn raced through the dense forest. Her long legs pumping and muscles burning from effort, she navigated the uneven ground and thick foliage. Her body had been pushed well beyond its normal limits days ago. Yet she was far more than mortal. She drew on the athanc shard within her chest, feeling its power burning within her like a sun, a limitless source of vitality and strength. Its power could restore her, even when she was starving and exhausted. She hit a creek full-stride, leaping agilely from one slick, wet stone to the next. She could feel the dragon’s mind pressing on her own, impatient and eager. Te boat was near. Its prize was close. Dozens of dragonspawn rushed through the trees alongside her, driven by the same all-imposing will. Saeryn’s twin sister, Rhyas, was at her side. Now and then, one of the twins would send a winged harrier above the trees, using their connection to the dragonspawn to keep watch on their goal. “Come sister,” Saeryn shouted, excitement filling her at the thought of being the one to claim this monumental prize for Everblight. “Tis glory shall be ours alone.” Rhyas put on an extra burst of speed and pulled well ahead of the pack. For weeks, Everblight’s legion had pursued the athanc shard held by Cryxian forces. Following the clash between Cryx and Cygnar, the athanc had changed hands. Tough their quarry


was different now that others possessed the shard, their ultimate goal was the same. Everblight’s presence filled Saeryn’s mind in a way that was intrusive and unavoidable. Te dragon gazed through her eyes and the eyes of her sister, consumed with the desire to attain his prize. Te athanc shard buried deep within her chest, a piece of Everblight himself, thrummed and radiated its blighted power throughout her body. She preferred when the dragon’s attention was elsewhere; she did not savor this synergy as some of Everblight’s warlocks might. She loathed having her every movement manipulated by an unseen puppeteer, even one as powerful as the dragon. In this regard, Saeryn had her own secret. While the dragon could invade the consciousness of his warlocks at will, Saeryn had learned how to compartmentalize a portion of her mind, shielding it from Everblight’s influence. Trough their unique connection as twins, she could also shield her sister’s mind in the same fashion, though Rhyas remained unaware of this fact. If she wished to do so, Saeryn could shut the dragon out. It was a feat none of the other warlocks could even fathom, let alone accomplish. As yet, she had never flaunted this power, knowing such betrayal would carry consequences. Saeryn kept this capability secret, reserved for a greater need, and sought to repress her irritation at Everblight’s intruding consciousness. “What of Lylyth and Bethayne?” Rhyas asked, her voice projecting into Saeryn’s mind via their telepathic link. “What of Kallus? Should we not wait for them and strike in force?” “Tese Cygnarans will eventually be reinforced or will find more secure shelter,” Saeryn answered mentally. “Tere is no time to wait on those who have fallen behind.” “As you say, sister,” Rhyas said. Her trust in her twin’s judgment was, as always, absolute.

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Te hunting party topped a ridge above the Banwick River, bringing the Cygnaran boat into sight. Finally within striking distance after waiting so long, Saeryn prepared herself for Everblight’s reaction. She had felt the rush of exuberance from the dragon before. She knew how overwhelming it could be to mortal senses. But when the feeling came, everything about it was wrong. A jolt of pain and disorientation dropped her to one knee. Her temple throbbed, and an all-encompassing white light blinded her vision. Her athanc thrummed deep within her chest, and Saeryn felt something that had been very rare since coming under the thrall of the dragon. Fear.

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CHAPTER 5: KRUEGER T hick

swirls of darkened clouds obscured the heights of the Wyrmwall Mountains as Krueger channeled the power of the elements into the surrounding standing stones and the invisible ley lines below them, crisscrossing the face of all of Caen. Lightning and rain lashed the peaks, starting slowly and building into a tumult of storm. A bank of fog welled up between the stones and around the Stormlord, and amid its obscuring presence were the levitated forms of subordinate blackclads sworn to Krueger’s service. Te arms of each hooded figure were outstretched, palms up, the static power in the air flowing through their willing bodies as they served as conduits. Flickering energy arced from stone to druid to stone again, creating a ring of escalating power. Krueger hovered at the circle’s center, the eye of the storm above him as well as below. If the druids were conduits, Krueger was the focal point. Te tremendous forces gathering around them welled up within the ley lines, steadily building a pressure that the Stormlord could not hold back forever. When the time came, the power would rush through the many miles of ley lines in a flood, augmented by the subtle traces of blight left behind by the dragons. Beyond the circle’s edge, the mottled figure of Blighterghast’s emissary looked on, his scarred face upturned to the sky. Streaks of rain trickled over the weeping sores of his visage. Somewhere, the


dragon Blighterghast looked through the man’s eyes and onto the unfolding scene, eager for the ritual’s conclusion and the initiation of the hunt for Everblight’s warlocks. Te runes carved upon the ancient pillars blazed to life, casting a green aura over the shifting bank of fog, and a steady thrum of energy could be felt radiating forth from each stone. Shadow images formed and dissipated in the mist, one collapsing into the next as quickly as it formed. In one image, a group of feral Tarn clad in furs and leathers ran down a wild boar. In another, Cygnaran farmers worked to till a field. Another depicted trollkin clashing with scores of gatormen, but as quickly as the clash appeared, it vanished, leaving behind frozen peaks and a train rumbling down its track. Portions of the ley lines blighted by the dragons extended throughout all of western Immoren, and Krueger could feel the connection with the whole of his being. His robes billowed out behind him as the storm intensified and the ritual neared its apex. A bolt of lightning struck a nearby peak and sent flecks of stone cascading down the mountainside. Te dam holding back the gathered power was released, and a deluge of energy surged through the ley lines. A pulse rolled forth from the circle of standing stone, sending a ripple of movement through the surrounding fog and dispelling the images that had formed there. In his mind’s eye, Krueger watched as the pulse swept over western Immoren with the same speed with which the wayfarers traveled, a cast stone sending out a series of ripples on the previously calm surface of a pond. Te fog fell away, and the torrent of rain slowed to a drizzle. For a moment, there was nothing but the relative silence. Krueger did not move, and by his example his disciples maintained the same composure, waiting patiently. Te gentle patter of the rain marked the slow seconds.

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One by one, reflections of the pulse returned to Krueger and the standing stones, each sent by one of the immortal pieces of the athanc that had once been whole, that had once been oruk. Some came from Blighterghast and the other dragons of his alliance, each heartstone within them creating a powerful echo. Yet there were other smaller echoes, fainter notes in the blighted symphony. Tese were the reverberations from the divided shards of Everblight’s shared athanc. Teir call began the hunt that would be their undoing.

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CHAPTER 6: SAERYN Blinded and crawling on all fours, Saeryn was overcome by a rush of emotions from her fellow warlocks, telegraphed across the miles via the athanc within her. Fear, confusion, and panic struck her like rolling waves. errible as such feelings were, she knew the worst was yet to come. Te mental cacophony was so overwhelming it made her sick. And she knew Everblight felt the same in that instant; all of them were exposed and vulnerable. Gunshots rang out in the distance. During the moment of confusion, the Cygnarans on the boat had spotted the harriers flying over the river. Saeryn tried to reach out to the beasts with her mind, but she struggled to make contact. As her vision cleared, she stood and took stock of her forces. Whatever had happened had caused every last creature connected to Everblight to suffer a similar disconcerting experience. Saeryn turned to her sister. Rhyas had regained her footing but clutched her chest where her own athanc shard rested. Her expression was strained, and she breathed heavily. Rhyas shook her head. “What was that?” “I don’t know.” Confused mental chatter from the other warlocks grew in intensity as the disruption faded and their bond renewed. Saeryn pushed the noise from her mind. Another round of gunfire sounded, and the last of the harriers plummeted from the sky. In their disorientation, the dragonspawn


had exposed themselves. Te Cygnarans now knew they were being pursued. Any chance for surprise was gone. Even so, Saeryn was not about to abandon her prize. She was prepared to lead the charge down the pine-laden slope when a deafening roar thundered across the foothills of the upper Wyrmwall. Tis was when the purpose of the pulse that had struck her athanc shard became clear. Somehow, the dragon alliance had discovered a means to locate Everblight’s fractured essence. Saeryn felt the dragon’s anxiety at this revelation; it crushed down upon her like a mountain. Tere came a tipping point, a question of whether it was wiser to flee into the wilds and survive or descend upon the waiting boat with blade and claw and wrest the power to oppose his kin. Te voice of Everblight made the decision for her as it spoke within the base of Saeryn’s mind.

RERIEVE HE SHARD.

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CHAPTER 7: CONSTANCE BLAIZE Blaize rushed to the railing of the ship and looked over to see the dragonspawn splash into the river and disappear below the surface. Te trenchers swept their rifles over the open sky for additional threats. What worried Blaize wasn’t the dragonspawn they had spotted above the ship but rather the bellowing roar they had heard shortly afterward. “Incoming! Starboard side!” shouted a Precursor knight. Just then, a pair of monstrous winged creatures took flight from the nearby cliffs. A set of four wings propelled the beasts through the air, and barbed tails lashed out behind their serpentine bodies. Blaize had encountered dragonspawn before and recognized these as seraphs, death on wings that brought poison and fire. A commotion broke out on deck at the sight of the approaching dragonspawn. Blaize was already in motion, moving among the crew and shouting orders. “o arms! Stoke the boilers, and get the ’jacks topside! Keep watch for boarders!” A dozen rifles barked as the trenchers took up positions behind the railing and opened fire on the enemy. One of the seraphs jerked and dove from sight as bullets tore through the thin membrane of its wings and punctured its flesh. Te second horror swept along the side of the ship and from its maw unleashed a torrent of blue flame that consumed several trenchers. Tose set ablaze collapsed or leapt screaming from the deck to extinguish the flames in the river.


With a keening screech, the wounded seraph came back into view and strafed the deck, belching flames of its own. Precursor knights cooked inside their armor, and members of the crew were engulfed in the blue inferno. Te smell of charred flesh filled the air. Te sailor at the ship’s helm was caught in the blaze and turned into a human torch, his arms flailing in vain as his skin cracked and blackened. In his death panic, he fell upon the wheel, twisting it hard to the right as he collapsed. Te ship lurched suddenly to the side. Te vessel rose and tilted at an alarming angle as it veered toward the rocky riverbank, and those onboard fought to maintain their footing. Te impact, underscored by the sound of splintering wood, rocked the whole of the ship. Te hull cracked and strained as the vessel collided with the promontory of stone at the river’s edge. Te uppermost reaches of the rocks sheared away the railing and portions of the deck. Te ship tilted even further, leaning into the rocks on which it had impaled itself, and only the extensive combat experience of the defenders kept them organized and upright if no less desperate. Te voice of Chaplain Corley carried over the screams of the dying as he addressed the Precursor knights. “Form ranks and lock shields! Te beasts come around for another pass!” Te monotonous clanking of the cargo lift signaled the arrival of the warjacks from below. Smoke billowed from their massive steam engines, and their eyes glowed with a bright intensity. Gallant lumbered across the deck to Blaize’s side and took a protective stance beside the warcaster while the Centurions moved to shield the remaining trenchers. With their repairs complete, they were prepared to do glorious battle in the name of Morrow once more. Te mechanik Reynolds had ridden the lift beside the warjacks and

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now joined the defense, a wrench in one hand and a pistol in the other. renchers fired as fast as they could reload while the seraphs circled above and dive-bombed the vessel in tandem. Te dragonspawn descended with mouths agape, intent on washing the deck in flames once more. Bullets tore into the creatures, causing more horrifying wounds, but the beasts came on. Runes flared around Blaize’s outstretched hand, and a blast of holy light engulfed the winged abominations. Teir blighted flesh smoked and seared; they collided with the deck, sliding and rolling over the planks. Chaplain Corley and his Precursor knights fell upon one beast with their blessed maces to finish the job while Blaize commanded her Centurion to skewer the other with its massive piston spear. With the seraphs downed, Blaize rushed to the shattered railing in time to see a dozen dragonspawn of varying shapes and sizes emerge from the trees and charge the stranded ship. wo blighted Nyss moved among them. One of the pale elves wielded a sword, the other a spear, and Blaize was certain these warriors led the assault—the dragonspawn answered to their will. She issued a mental command to the Centurions and positioned them to receive the incoming charge. Te Precursors formed ranks in front, locking shields once more, ready to repel the oncoming draconic boarders. Chaplain Corley stood beside Blaize with his own shield at the ready. “First the Cryxians, now these. Whatever our relic is, the evils of every hidden corner in Immoren have taken notice.” “All the more reason it must remain in our hands,” Blaize replied. Te dragonspawn clambered up the rocks and over the side of the ship in a wave of flesh and teeth to crash upon the wall of Precursor shields. Tough the blessings of Morrow aided their cause, the

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knights were sorely outmatched. Slashing talons knocked shields askew, and barbed tails whipped over the line of defenders to open throats and separate heads from shoulders. Rows of jagged teeth crunched through armor, and blue flame exuded from draconic mouths to blister faces and warp steel. Te two Centurion warjacks fell back and served as the anchors for the wall of knights, their towering mechanical bodies protecting the flanks from assault. Beasts hammered against their massive shields, their attacks turned harmlessly aside while the Centurions retaliated with their spears and skewered the blighted horrors, pinning their thrashing forms to the deck. Gallant had taken a more proactive approach, moving beyond the Precursors and, under Blaize’s direction, wading into the enemy with sword and buckler. Broad strokes from the warjack’s blessed weapon cleaved into the spawn, eviscerating torsos and sending limbs to flop on the vessel’s planks with their last spasms of life. Te ’jack’s eyes burned a bright yellow as though it relished doling out such punishment, and the black ichor that splattered its chassis dripped from its armor as if repelled by the holy rites bestowed upon it. “Hold the line!” Blaize shouted. Runes materialized around her—she gathered the holy might drawn from the power of the souls of the dying. She then used it to shield those who fought on, forming a shimmering aura around them, the magic fed by the purified energies of the departed. Bolstered by the sacrifice of the initial casualties, the Precursors pushed forward, wading with mace and shield into the throng of dragonspawn. “Watch your left!” Blaize called. Te knights’ blessed weapons swept down to crack the thick carapace armor of their foes, and prayers to Morrow rose up and

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down the line. Among them, a knight cried out line after line of the Enkheiridion—their most holy tome—and the words of their faith seemed to lend strength and courage to the embattled knights. Before long, the deck was awash with blood from beast and man alike, and the structured clash devolved into an all-out brawl. Amid the chaos, one of the Nyss cut a bloody swath through the Precursors with the curved length of her blade. A trencher attempted to impale her spinning form with a bayonet, but the Nyss maneuvered inside the man’s defenses to disembowel him in one fluid motion. A spear protruded from the back of another nearby Precursor, and the knight fell away to reveal a second Nyss. Horns jutted from her head, and dragon scales marked portions of her arms. Te focused expression on her face was identical to that of the first Nyss. Upon seeing Blaize, she invoked a spell and sent a spray of acid splashing over the warcaster’s shield and armor to eat away at her defenses with a persistent hiss. “Warlocks,” Blaize said under her breath. Ignoring the acid, she charged forward, shield raised and spear angled to skewer the spellcaster before the Nyss could contribute to the fight any further. A sphere of shadow concealed Blaize’s intended target, and when the effect vanished, Blaize found herself face-to-face with the sword wielder rather than the sorceress. In a blur of movement, the Nyss struck Blaize’s shoulder with her blade, spinning her about and stealing her balance. A second strike threatened to separate Blaize’s head from her shoulders, and she barely raised her shield in time to deflect the blow. Steel rang on steel. Te Nyss probed Blaize’s defenses, driving her back and onto her heels. While the Nyss was lightly armored, her speed and technique more than made up for that vulnerability. Blaize issued a mental command to Gallant; the roar of the ’jack’s

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steam engine filled the air as it headed for the elusive spellcaster. Te Nyss sidestepped a downward cut from the ’jack that splintered the boards beneath her feet. She responded by sending a large dragonspawn with snapping jaws and several arms barreling into Gallant, and together beast and machine tumbled over the edge of the open cargo doors and into the depths of the hold. All across the ship, the defending forces were beleaguered. For each beast that had been slain, two of Blaize’s soldiers lay dead or dying. Te Centurions were battered, one having lost the function of its shield arm and the other possessing only limited range of movement. And while Blaize could still sense Gallant’s cortex in the hold below, she could not establish control of the warjack over the distance. Even Chaplain Corley, who had dashed the skull of a cat-like dragonspawn with his mace and helped bring down several other beasts while directing his knights, now rested on one knee, a steady line of blood trickling down one side of his head, his breathing ragged. A crackling sound grabbed Blaize’s attention, catching her offguard. At its source was a young woman running across the deck of the ship, her braid of golden hair swinging as bursts of arcane energy flickered from her fists. Te Nyss were equally surprised; they turned on her only in time to be struck by a blast of kinetic force that threw them backward across the blood-streaked boards. Te young woman chased after them with her fists poised to deliver another strike, and she didn’t give Blaize so much as a passing glance. Another familiar figure—clad in exotic voltaic warcaster armor—floated over the railing. She immediately delivered bolts of arcane energy at the dragonspawn. Tough her face was obscured beneath a cowl and goggles and her hair was gray, she still resembled Major Victoria Haley, at least in Blaize’s mind. Her confusion was

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compounded when yet another figure—one she knew to be Major Haley—climbed aboard, accompanied by Arlan Strangewayes and a team of rangers and trenchers. “It looks like you could use some help,” Haley said, speaking over the staccato gunfire of her rangers as they zeroed in on the remaining dragonspawn, adding their support to the arcane blasts of the older woman. Haley positioned herself at Blaize’s back, drawing her hand cannon and opening fire as she did so. “Not to be seen as ungrateful, but last I heard, you were recovering in the infirmary at Point Bourne,” Blaize said. “And we’re a long way from Point Bourne.” “Tere’ll be time for explanations later,” Haley replied. “Right now, I think we have more pressing matters to attend to.” Te Nyss sword wielder had recovered and was now slashing at the young woman with the kinetic fists, each combatant ducking and weaving out of the other’s reach. It was then that Blaize noticed the young one also resembled the major. It was as if she had brought an older and younger sister to fight at her side. Something strange was happening, Blaize felt certain. Te martial dance continued a moment longer before the second Nyss warlock battered aside a knight with her spear and summoned runes to surround her outstretched hand. A shimmer of arcane force sliced through the air and cleaved into the young woman, but rather than falling beneath a wave of her own gore, she simply vanished. Te Nyss then came at Haley and Blaize as a pair—the movements of one were like an extension of the other, as though they had been fighting alongside one another all their lives. Haley locked spears with the horned spellcaster while Blaize pushed into the one with the sword. Te Nyss kicked the base of Blaize’s shield, driving it downward, and at the same moment launched a sword

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strike over the top to cut through the power field and land a hit on the warcaster’s shoulder. Warm blood ran down Blaize’s arm and pooled within her armor, but she ignored the pain and continued to trade strikes. She managed to strike her opponent’s side, carving a deep gash in the Nyss’ flesh. As soon as the wound appeared, however, it closed—nearby, one of the dragonspawn collapsed to the deck after a similar wound opened on its hide. Around them, the tide of battle had shifted, though the enemy was far from routed. A handful of dragonspawn remained, but their fearless nature would brook no retreat unless their masters commanded them to do so. Likewise, faith in Morrow kept those knights who still drew breath in the fight, and with the help of the reinforcements, they were slowly gaining ground. A roar rolled over the hills then—deep and powerful, like the one Blaize had heard just before the assault began. Te very sound seemed to give the warlocks and their beasts pause. A shadow fell across the ship, and combatants on both sides looked up to see a winged figure the size of a mountain peak eclipse the sun. Blaize felt her heart rise up into her throat as the dragon swooped down, its massive fanged maw open wide, ready to swallow the ship and all on board.

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CHAPTER 8: SAERYN Saeryn felt impotent rage as the gaping maw of the dragon she knew to be Charsaug bore down on her. She was so close to the ultimate goal. But to stay now was to die. Acting as one, Saeryn and Rhyas quickly disengaged from their opponents. Leaping from the grounded ship, the pair ran as fast as they could from the dragon closing in. As they ran, Saeryn could feel the thoughts of her fellow warlocks through Everblight’s athanc. Realization struck her like a bolt. Charsaug was but one element of a larger, coordinated effort. Troughout western Immoren, Everblight’s warlocks found themselves beset by dragons, pursued by snapping jaws and gouts of flame. Te pulse that had struck Everblight’s divided athanc had signaled the location of each of his warlocks. Tose dragons aligned with Blighterghast, like Charsaug, moved to devour those nowexposed warlocks and their athancs. Saeryn and Rhyas weaved through the thick cover of the forest, pushing their blight-enhanced physiology to the limit. Behind them, Charsaug smashed aside trees and set sections of the landscape alight with his flames. Each beat of its massive wings sent a superheated hurricane against their backs. Saeryn feared there would be no escape. Tere were no weapons with which to deter its pursuit, no way to escape its predatory gaze. Tere was nothing to do but run.

CHAPTER 9: VICTORIA HALEY T he

dragon chased the Nyss, and Haley watched it disappear from sight. urning, she descended into the ship’s hold alongside Blaize, Strangewayes, and her ranger sergeant. Tere she discovered a disaster. As on the deck above, blood and entrails from slain beasts and men were strewn about in a nauseating display of gore. Gallant had survived the fall from above and stood in one corner, bursts of steam escaping from damaged pipes, and oil leaking from other portions of its battered chassis. Te hold had been completely ruptured by the sharp boulders upon which it had run aground. Te ship listed dangerously to one side from the rising water that rushed in from the damaged hull. Crates and supplies floated about, several having been dashed open by the impact. Teir contents were strewn across the surface of the rising water. While the loss of supplies was worrisome, it was the Cryxian artifact that drew Haley’s attention. “You said it had a dozen steam engines, but I still didn’t imagine it being so large,” Haley said, staring at the wagon and the rings and cube that hovered above it. Tey set about moving aside the debris and uncovering the machine. Already, the water was rising toward the engines. It would only be a matter of time until the river swallowed them. Even necrotite could not burn underwater. Te smell of necrotite smoke was strong, and the stench made Haley’s


eyes water as she worked to clear the pileup. She knew such fumes could be deadly when breathed for too long. Blaize directed Gallant to help with the larger pieces, and after significant effort the group managed to haul the wagon back to the dry portion of the hold. “ook some damage when you ran aground,” Strangewayes said. He pointed to a pair of engines on the wagon’s back side that had been crushed upon impact with the wall. Where the other engines glowed with an intense green light, these two emitted only the faintest of auras. “I was already worried about it failing,” Blaize said. “Tis certainly doesn’t help.” “Te amount of power flowing into the containment field is considerable,” Strangewayes said, examining the wagon’s many engines. He had relit his pipe after the battle, and a trail of smoke now followed him on his inspection. “Look here,” he said, pointing. “Tese were modified from burning coal originally. Looks like Rhulic design, then converted to Cryxian. Tey were able to get away with a degree of redundancy since necrotite burns so hot and for so long. Tese are essentially crude arcane turbines. Could get by with half as many engines, most like. I’d say this was originally intended for extended storage rather than transportation. Te Cryxians discovered it and changed the design to suit their needs. Given a proper fuel supply, the remaining engines should be able to maintain the field.” “And if there is no fuel supply?” Blaize asked. Strangewayes opened one of the fuel hatches and peered inside a moment before closing it again. He moved his pipe to the crook of his mouth and spoke around it. “wo hours. Maybe three. Certainly no more than four.” “Morrow shield us,” Blaize said. “First dragonspawn, then an actual dragon, and now this.”

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Haley leaned on Echo and considered their situation. She grabbed a hunk of coal from atop a nearby crate. “You said the engines were modified to burn necrotite. Couldn’t we shovel coal into the engines instead?” “Wouldn’t burn hot enough,” Strangewayes replied. “Not after the changes they made. Te modified hoppers are too narrow and the furnaces are too small to hold sufficient coal. Tere would have been less redundancy in the old system—they would have needed more engines running at once. We can’t just change them back. We’d not generate enough power.” “Arlan, you’re one of the top arcane mechaniks in western Immoren. ell me you’ve got something to keep that reputation alive,” Haley said. “I have an idea,” Strangewayes said, “but you aren’t going to like it.” Haley tossed the piece of coal back into the crate. “You mean, as opposed to how in love I am with the idea that this hell-wrought machine, built to contain some unknowable yet undoubtedly sinister cargo, is going to fail on us while we are stranded in the middle of the river while beset on all sides by dragons and dragonspawn?” “Fair enough,” Strangewayes said, ignoring her sarcasm. “raditional warcaster armor uses coal to power an arcane turbine. Warcaster turbines are far better at converting steam energy into mystical power than what we have here. Expensive to manufacture and maintain, but remarkably efficient.” Blaize’s brow furrowed. “Are you suggesting we remove the arcane turbine from my armor and use it to power the field?” “I can’t make any promises, but I might be able to use your turbines to rig a temporary containment field. It won’t be as powerful as the one we have now, but it would require far less fuel,

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and it’d be portable for overland travel.” Haley hadn’t been thinking of how badly damaged the ship was, but she realized Strangewayes’ assessment was accurate. Te river was growing more turbulent with every mile deeper into the Wyrmwall. Te idea of patching the boat and continuing onward wasn’t realistic. While on deck, Blaize had informed Haley of orders to transport the artifact to a fortress due east of Ironhead Station within the Wyrmwall. Te plan had been to reach Orven by boat and to take the train from there. According to her estimation, they were not all that far from the city. Blaize pointed to the massive cube that hung above them. “Don’t tell me you want to remove that thing from the containment field. I can’t tell you what’s inside, but I can tell you it’s dangerous. Whoever went through the trouble to imprison it this way did so for a reason.” “In a few hours, it won’t matter,” Strangewayes said. “Unless you have a supply of necrotite secreted away somewhere, those engines are going to shut down. We deal with a short interruption in the field or we sit on our asses and deal with a permanent one.” Haley watched the grim expression on Blaize’s face. She knew the knight’s order had instilled in her certain beliefs to be upheld, and she could understand her unwillingness to give the artifact any degree of freedom. She placed a hand on Blaize’s shoulder. “We understand your concerns, but I trust Arlan’s assessment. If he says there is a chance to re-create the field, I believe he is the one to do it. And if he says we have no other viable option, I believe that, too.” Blaize pinched the bridge of her nose in exasperation. “How long will it take to reach Orven on foot?” One of Haley’s rangers came forward, a patch of bloody fabric wrapped about his head. “Orven is less than twenty miles from our

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current location if we cut through a pass known to us. It’s usually snowed in by this time of year, but the winter has been mild. I bet it’s open. If we manage to avoid any delays, we can make it by sundown at the pace Major Haley sets.” Haley waved away Blaize’s questioning look. “I have the means to expedite our travel. It’s complicated, but that’s how we reached you so quickly. ” Blaize stood for a moment considering the improvised plan. Finally, she said, “I made a promise to ensure this artifact was seen safely to Hook Fort. If you say this is our best chance, then so be it. Captain Strangewayes, how long until you can jury-rig the portable field from my turbine?” “An hour or so. But I will need help.” “Reynolds can assist you,” Blaize said. Haley looked about the ruined hold and thought of the black form of the dragon as it had continued to race away. “Make it as fast as possible, Arlan. I’d prefer to be gone from here before that dragon decides to come back and see what had his quarry interested in us in the first place.” “Good call, Major,” Strangewayes said, scratching his chin pensively. “Make it thirty minutes. Reynolds!” he barked. “Hop to it!”

Haley kept her eyes on the cube levitating in the center of the hold. Cranking and clacking sounds rose from the generator with the occasional belch of black smoke. Te green glow of the engines burned low, and the contraption was all but running on fumes. Strangewayes stood astride the Cryxian machine, pulling levers and flipping switches in preparation for the shutdown of the energy field. Te damaged engines had died, and now and then, the color

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of the energy field shifted from its sickly yellow to a translucent white and back again. Te arcane turbine of Blaize’s armor had been repurposed along with the attached steam engine to generate a new power field. Te warcaster had donned her armor once again. Bereft of the arcane turbine’s power, the armor now lacked both its power field and the weight-compensating properties that came with it. In short, what had once been a suit of the most advanced mechanika in the Iron Kingdoms was now a cumbersome shell, but clearly Blaize had been conditioned to bear it. Rather than levitating the cube, the improvised generator would be affixed to the cube itself, though whether or not it would prove effective remained to be seen. In order to test it, they would first need to deactivate the artifact’s existing field. “Tis is it,” Strangewayes said, clutching the knob of a lever and giving a rueful smile that helped to mitigate the tension. “I would advise you all to stand clear.” Haley came forward, sloshing through the water gathered in the hold. “Wait. Let me.” Te mechanik opened his mouth to protest but stopped short, knowing there was nothing he could say that would change her mind. He nodded and stepped away to stand with the others. Her own warcaster armor and power field gave her greater protection than anyone else present. Standing this close to the machine, Haley could feel its power vibrating in her teeth. Te looming cube rotated slowly on its diagonal axis, and she wondered what secrets it held. Even with the field up, she could sense the shadow within, a power that pulled each strand of fate into itself. Before she could talk herself out of it, Haley threw the lever downward in its groove on the control panel. Tere was an extended hiss, like a train might expel upon rolling to a stop, and the glow of the engines died. Te containment field flickered and faded, and in the next moment the cube toppled from the air. It collided with

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one of the now-inert engines as it fell, one of its edges shearing off a pipe and denting the boiler. It hit the flooded floor with a splash and a thump, pivoting on an angle before collapsing onto one of its sides and sending a ripple through the water to lap at the legs of the observers and the walls of the hull. A deep sense of foreboding struck Haley, and the mere act of looking at the freed cube set her on edge. Te air itself seemed thicker, and drawing breath now took additional effort. Sturdy as the cube appeared, it did not fully shield the outside world from whatever waited inside. Te necrotite engines ticked softly as they cooled, and an oppressive silence filled the hold. Beneath her armor, Haley’s skin crawled. She directed her will into her own power field, pushing it to its maximum strength. “I can feel it,” Blaize said with an edge in her voice. She took a step back. “’Something around us.” She made the sign of the Radiance. Haley stepped away from the control panel and waded toward the cube to examine it up close for the first time. Te whole of the object’s exterior was steel, its faces sleek and lacking rivets, corners sharp and without signs of welding. Faint runes, barely distinguishable even from a few feet away, had been painstakingly carved over the surfaces. While the dozen necrotite engines had worked to contain the energies she now felt pervading her surroundings, Haley felt certain these runes played an equally important role in the containment of whatever waited inside. An urge to see the cube opened took root in her mind, and she forced herself to shake off the sudden thought. Had she truly wanted to open the cube, she could not have said how to go about it. Tere were no catches or handholds visible. She lifted a finger to trace one of the runes along the side. Te ethereal form of Future materialized beside her, and although no words

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were spoken, Haley felt a thought that was not quite her own. Slowly, she placed a gauntleted hand flat to the cube. A flash of light stole her vision, and her back arched so her face stared at the open loading doors above before the world around her suddenly vanished to black. At first, she wondered if she had been blinded or knocked unconscious, though even that thought suggested her mind was still her own, which she realized was a relief in and of itself. As she struggled to comprehend what was happening, her ears were filled with the loud whoosh of wind being driven forth as if by a great bellows. Somehow, she recognized the sound as the beat of wings. As she listened to the rhythmic thumping, a single spot of intense light pierced the blackness of her vision. Slowly, the pinprick became larger and fuller upon the horizon. As her world was once more filled with light, clouds and mountain peaks took shape. Land and sea stretched out below like an endless roll of parchment, and Haley intuitively recognized the expanse as Immoren. Te same rivers and mountain ranges marked its face, but the cities she saw were unfamiliar and strange, and most of the lands she recognized were instead scattered with primitive huts. She felt antipathy for the mortals scurrying the earth. She was struck by a keen loneliness, a sense of being the only creature of her kind. She felt a powerful compulsion to rectify that fact. As she soared across the world from on high, Haley came to realize whose mind she shared: Lord oruk, the Dragonfather. Haley looked down at her scaled chest. She felt the blazing power of the athanc just beneath. With great talons, she rent open her breast. Tere was pain, but it was easily quashed by the desire to create. She clawed her athanc, sending slivers flying free with each scrape. As they fell to the earth, she watched with great anticipation—each shard formed a draconic body, each a unique

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interpretation and altered reflection of her own image. Ten Haley realized that she was no longer within oruk but was instead looking up at his gargantuan form. From oruk’s singular essence, she felt herself become whole as rapidly generative flesh formed around her, and a powerful body shaped to channel the energies from her own heartstone. He who was their creator roared from above and demanded their attention. He commanded them to obey him, to worship him. But it was not awe or humble obedience they felt but rage and indignation. How dare any being make demands of them! Te fire in their athancs flared and would not be denied. oruk had made a grave error. Wreaths of flame and smoke obscured Haley’s vision as they rose against their creator. Claws mangled membranous wings, and teeth tore through flesh. Blood and fire rained from the skies as oruk devoured several defiant offspring, reclaiming their essence. Ten those remaining fled, scattering to the corners of the world. ime leapt forward, and Haley began to know her new self as Nidoboros. Wounded both in body and pride, she burrowed below the mountains and sought the warmth of the earth, where she could lick her wounds in solitude until the cry of battle sounded once again. Trough her imperishable heartstone, she sensed her brethren and knew that each was hunted in turn. Pursued until oruk, their father, would devour them one by one. And despite their battles, oruk retained the majority of his strength. Centuries went by in the dark as Haley’s wounds healed, and when she was again at full strength, she clawed forth from the ground and took wing. While the others quailed, she insisted oruk could be defeated. Alone, she met oruk in battle. She would show her kin their creator was not invincible. With slashing claws and bursts of flame, she brawled with oruk across the continent. She hoped to stir the courage of the others of her kind and was willing

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to risk her annihilation to do so. She managed to land a grievous blow, and they all saw their creator’s ancient blood spill across the land like a tidal wave. Despite the injury, Haley felt oruk’s jaws close over her throat, and with a twist of the neck, the young dragon snapped. Her body fell limp. Te world darkened, but the visions did not end. Her athanc remained within her body, and through it, she sensed the other dragons joining too late to affect her own fall, yet distracting oruk and taking him away before he could consume her. In the aftermath, she was forgotten. Again, there was darkness. And then, dead flesh and tendons were torn away to shine daylight on the crystalline surfaces of the athanc shard. An old crone with iron claws for fingers clutched at the heartstone and lifted it from her body. Images slipped by in a stream: Her athanc being deposited into a cloth sack, the extensive travel to the frigid peaks near the civilization of the dwarves— some of whom joined the crone after answering her call—and an underground chamber beneath the ice. ogether, they forged a vault. Tick layers of different metals formed its outer walls, the very same walls Haley now touched. Te athanc was set inside, and the metal cube was sealed. Te layers of metal did much to contain the blighted energies she used to perceive the world. A new kind of darkness blanketed her senses, and something like sleep came. Tough largely sealed away, a tenuous tendril of contact with the other athancs remained. After an unknown epoch, she sensed the other dragons aroused to battle, now led by Blighterghast and inspired by her sacrifice. Tey gathered their strength and struck in a coordinated attack on their father. Teir battle ignited the skies, and in the end, the Dragonfather withdrew, retreating to the islands of Cryx to form his new empire. Ten, even this thread of contact was severed, and her prison was complete. Haley’s mind brooded tirelessly and timelessly

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with nothing but uninterrupted solitude and the echo of her own thoughts. Until something began to crack in her prison, a flickering light from outside. Skeins of her blighted essence slipped through, allowing mere glimpses of a new and unfamiliar world. Te prison had been damaged, and the world was in motion. No, she was in motion, drawn toward her creator for a final reckoning. Amid these brief flashes of light from the outside world came an unexpected hope—lesser mortals defeated the servants of oruk, simple beings that lacked power and understanding. Her own face looked back at her as the field stopped and she felt her human flesh press against the side of a steel cube. Te vision did not end there. Te present fell away, and in its place was a burning landscape. A town built into the mountains crackled as flames licked at its stone foundation. Scores of silhouettes ran screaming from their homes. She saw a clock tower at the center of town that rose above all other structures. A lone figure clung to the tower roof as flames climbed higher. Ash swirled on the wind, and the scene changed to one of burning fields. Amid the chaos Haley could see the shambling forms of reanimated dead. A farmer skewered one with a pitchfork just before another dragged him to the ground. Te landscape was a charred ruin. Smoke and burning embers filled the horizon as though all of Cygnar, perhaps all of western Immoren, was beset by the blaze. Gunfire sounded, and an armored train laden with heavy weapons streaked through the wasteland. Te image reformed, and Haley saw one of the Nyss warlocks she had encountered during the clash aboard the ship. In this vision, she held a crystalline object under one arm, and Haley recognized the dragon athanc currently contained within the cube. Te athanc pulsed with energy. A look of agony marked the Nyss’ face. Te horns on her forehead had nearly doubled in size, and spines now

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protruded from her arms. She looked over her shoulder as though watching a pursuer and then hurried onward. Tere was a sense of falling, and all at once Haley was back in her own body and stumbling away from the cube. She blinked and shook her head, and the waterlogged cargo hold came into focus. Strangewayes was at her side, gripping her arm to help her keep balance. “Easy now,” Strangewayes said. “You look like you’ve just seen a good-natured Khadoran.” “A dragon,” Haley said. “Te cube is a prison for the athanc of a dragon.”

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CHAPTER 10: KRUEGER “Y ou’re hiding something.” Te words came from the dragon’s emissary. Te man’s breath was found and his teeth were a rotted yellow, but Krueger knew he was speaking through him to Blighterghast himself. “What reason would I have for deceiving you?” Krueger asked in reply. “Are you not pleased with our results? Everblight is exposed and on the run. Soon, he will be nothing but a memory.” “Indeed, your ritual revealed Everblight, but that is not all that has been revealed. Charsaug has detected another response to your pulse on the river that cuts through the Wyrmwall. What do you know of this?” Te emissary’s eyes were filled with a baleful intensity that demanded caution. Were he to lose the dragon’s trust, his life would be forfeit. Krueger knew what the emissary spoke of. Te Circle had taken much interest in the loose dragon athanc slowly traversing the continent, but to reveal its existence now would threaten to derail his efforts. Teir Order had labored and risked much to keep that athanc from the grasp of Everblight, knowing it would rejuvenate and sustain him. Krueger’s research into the matter had suggested its mystical prison would prevent it from reacting to the blighted pulse he had unleashed. Something had to have changed. Te last thing he wanted was for the dragons of Blighterghast’s alliance to be distracted by this new prize.


“My role is in the initiation, not the hunt. I leave the pursuit to my betters. Everblight is divided and scattered, and we would both see him destroyed. A ritual of this magnitude has never before been attempted. Tere are bound to be irregularities. I advise ignoring the anomaly, at least until the foe we plot against is defeated.” Te emissary studied Krueger, seeming to peer past his eyes and into his soul. Krueger felt his body racked with pain as a surge of concentrated blight hit him. Yet it was only an echo of what he had felt while in Blighterghast’s presence directly, and he had learned to endure it. He stood resolute even as his lungs burned and he felt his skin start to shrivel. He knew he could smite the emissary with a single blast of lightning, but to do so would be to risk Blighterghast’s ire. “You play a dangerous game,” the emissary said after a moment. “Remember that you continue to exist only because you are useful to me. Cross me, and I will travel here myself and reduce your bones to ash.” “Understood,” Krueger replied through gritted teeth. He watched the emissary turn away and leave the circle of stones, his cowled form melting into the craggy landscape. Only then did Krueger let out a sigh of relief. He turned his attention back to the ritual, already feeling new energy building in the air around him. Storm clouds drifted overhead, and a thin blanket of fog glided over the bases of the surrounding stone pillars. His druids had resumed their positions, levitating in the gaps between stones. Te first pulse had set the hunt in motion. Te second would bring Everblight’s servants to their knees.

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CHAPTER 11: VICTORIA HALEY “W hatever ails her, it refuses to respond to my healing efforts,” Corley said. Haley and Blaize looked toward the back of the column where the wounded had gathered and traced the chaplain’s gaze to the junior mechanik. He was right. Te girl’s color was off, almost ashen, and her steps were sluggish and unsteady. Even expedited by Haley’s time dilation, the path to Orven was hard going. Teir route did not follow a well-established road. Tey had left the banks of the river and now relied upon the navigation of the rangers to guide them toward the city. A column of trenchers and Precursor knights walked alongside one another while the repaired Skillet carried the cube. Te arcane turbine hummed quietly from its place atop the cube, generating a faint energy field surrounding the metal prison. Back in the hold of the ship, Strangewayes had needed help fitting the new field generator to the cube and getting it running properly. Te junior mechanik had leapt at the opportunity to serve beside Strangewayes, his reputation having made him something of a legend among gearheads. Te work had taken the pair less than an hour, but the junior mechanik had appeared ill ever since. “Could this be due to exposure to necrotite?” Haley asked. “No. I’ve seen necrotite poisoning before,” Blaize said. “As terrible as its fumes are, its victims will respond to healing. Tese are the effects of concentrated dragon blight.”


“Te athanc,” Haley said. “It’s probably affecting us all.” Blaize nodded. “From what I’ve studied, mild blight doesn’t necessarily cause lasting harm, and the body sometimes recovers in time. But it’s impossible to know what the consequences of this type of exposure might be.” Haley focused on the junior mechanik until she could see the golden thread protruding from her chest, flowing in the direction they were headed. It was dimmer than the other threads she had seen, as though it might vanish at any moment. Te threads of several Precursors and trenchers likewise appeared weakened, their faces looking more ashen and hollow than when they had first left the grounded boat. “Te power field isn’t strong enough,” Haley said. “Te dragon’s blight is getting through.” She called out for her troops to keep greater distance from Skillet and the cube the ironclad carried, though it was impossible to know what a safe distance might be. In Haley’s battles against Cryx, she had seen countless blighted individuals, those warped by the presence of oruk even when living dozens of miles away. It was said oruk’s blight was a shadow across all of Cryx, reaching even the most distant islands to some degree. Other dragons kept to remote locations, and people stayed away for good reason. If what Haley had seen in her visions were true, each athanc was the concentrated essence of a dragon, like an immortal soul made physical in crystal. It was the source of their blight. It was an energy that affected and changed anything it touched, given time. She had heard of intense blight leaving permanent scars, capable of preventing even trolls from regenerating. It was an inherently malevolent energy, like necromancy, and perhaps related to it. So, it was likely no coincidence that the walking dead ruled oruk’s realm, a place where the living were second-class citizens. “We’ll be in Orven soon,” Blaize said. “We can leave the most

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afflicted behind to receive care before continuing by rail.” Haley shook her head. “I fear bringing this athanc into a populated city.” “Agreed, although if we move on quickly, we can limit exposure. Even this diminished field is helping, I’m sure. We just need to be quick about securing a train.” Blaize sounded more hopeful than certain. Haley considered those words, but it was not just exposure to blight that was on her mind. She recalled the other aspects of her visions. Tey felt like a presentiment of the future, and she felt certain the streets she had seen were those of Orven. During their trek, the two warcasters had spoken of other unusual experiences, and Haley recalled Blaize mentioning her own visions, ones she claimed were sent by Morrow. If anyone would understand, it would be Blaize. “When I touched the container back on the boat, I saw things. ” Haley said slowly. “Not just from the past but also from the future.” Blaize stared back at her intently, nodding for her to go on. “Cygnar was burning,” Haley continued. “Te towns. Te fields. Te dead had risen to harass the living, and fire and ash swept over both. I know it sounds unbelievable, but I know what I saw. Te world aflame as dragons warred overhead, bringing ruin to everything.” “ake it from someone who knows,” Blaize said, “prophecies about the future can be difficult to correctly interpret even under the best of circumstances, and even those successfully deciphered may not always come to pass.” “Tis is no prophecy,” Haley said. “I can see the ebb and flow of time. I know what I see is the future, not some mystical omen.” “ell me then, what does my future hold? Where do your threads of fate place me in this impending disaster?” Haley examined the golden thread extending from Blaize’s

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chest and watched it wind through the trees and jutting stones ahead of them. When she focused, she could see the darkness that had loomed on the horizon, only now it surrounded them on all sides as though they marched within the very eye of a storm. Whatever choice Blaize or the others made, it led them into the allencompassing blackness that now moved with them. She opened her mouth to tell of what lay before her eyes, but the words would not come. She would not be the voice of despair. She would let Blaize carry her spark of hope. Blaize smiled and offered a laugh that caught Haley off guard. “Te faithful, too, receive visions. Yet, even the messages delivered by Morrow himself are not ever absolute or certain. He is called the Prophet, but the future is not set in stone. It is ever changing, which I suspect you already know. Your own power has brought about such changes. While each of us has a role to play, our choices inform those roles. Te mortal soul can always upset the balance of fate, no matter how weighted the outcome may seem. I will not resign myself to defeat. Tere is always hope.” Haley knew choices mattered, and she had seen herself that the future was not fixed. Still, try as she might, she could not bring herself to share her fellow warcaster’s optimism. Te darkness they walked toward was like an all-consuming vortex from which no light could escape. Blaize could not see how close they were to being swallowed whole. Word filtered back through the rangers that Orven lay just ahead, and as the party topped a hillock, the city of the upper Wyrmwall revealed itself. Te sprawling streets burrowed within the mountainside and clung to its peaks while at the same time stretching down to the hills below. Southern districts of the city displayed architecture reminiscent of other Cygnaran cities with their cobblestone streets and steeples. Te districts to the north

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held more in common with the cities of Rhul, marked with more square-built and stout structures made for function as well as form. Tose neighborhoods represented one of the largest dwarven enclaves in Cygnar. Low walls surrounded the city, and beyond them stretched endless mining camps, the combined population of which rivaled the city itself. A sharp whistle drew Haley’s attention to a locomotive rolling down the tracks extending east from Orven to Ironhead Station, the location of another prominent dwarven enclave. Beyond that, Hook Fort waited. “A welcome sight,” Blaize said. She put her hands on her hips and peered up at the cityscape. “No dragons and not a structure razed. I’ll take this as a good sign.” She gave Haley a small smile and continued onward. She called over her shoulder. “Morrow favors the bold, Major. Follow the path of honor. We’ll get through this.” Haley stayed behind a moment longer, taking in the sight of the city above, and wondered if she were bringing ruin to its gates. Somewhere in the distance, a clock tower chimed out the hour as miners emerged from the ground and others descended with picks slung over shoulders. As the clock sang its song, Haley could think of nothing but the beating of great wings over an ashen and charred world.

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CHAPTER 12: SAERYN Despite

the dragon’s might, Saeryn decided Charsaug was incredibly dim-witted. Early in the dragon’s pursuit, Saeryn had contemplated splitting up from her sister to ensure one or the other’s survival. She now found their duality was their greatest defense. Te twins sprinted at angles beneath the cover of the trees, changing course and crossing paths before moving in opposite directions once more. Rhyas cloaked the pair in arcane shadows, further hindering Charsaug’s pursuit. Te dragon might have been an annihilator of armies, but against a pair of swift and small Nyss, it was easily confused and misled. Te dragon also proved quick to anger, a trait Saeryn worked to exploit. So far, they had managed to use these flaws to keep it off balance. Where she had once seen no chance at survival, Saeryn now saw hope. Te strange mystical pulse had revealed her location, but the effect had since faded. Now, the dragon had to rely on its own wits and senses to track them. Tere was a cave system nearby that ran deep into the Wyrmwall. If the pair could lose the dragon’s attention for a moment and slip inside, Saeryn believed they might evade it long enough to escape entirely. By the connection shared through Everblight, Saeryn could sense her fellow warlocks and knew they too were being pursued by other dragons. Tagrosh and Vayl had joined forces in the north


and led a swarm of dragonspawn in what seemed to be a grim last stand. Bethayne, Lylyth, and their forces also fled through the Wyrmwall, and Kallus had vanished altogether, though whether he yet endured remained to be seen. In theory, he was the most resilient of all Everblight’s warlocks, but even he could be devoured and absorbed. “Almost there,” she said to her sister. A jolt of pain and disorientation overtook her. She stumbled, snagging her foot on a root, and crashed to the ground. Her athanc thrummed in her chest, and her vision went white once again. Another pulse to betray them! Blinded, she leapt to her feet and forced herself forward. She braced against the burst of flame she expected to consume her as Charsaug honed in on her location. She smashed her shoulder into the trunk of a tree and turned herself about, but she didn’t slow. With her hand extended before her, she moved along on weakened knees. Gradually, her vision began to clear. A gust of wind buffeted her back, and she looked over her shoulder to see the silhouette of Charsaug unfurl over the expanse of sky. Ten, with a full beat of its wings, the dragon rushed off, moving southwest with haste. “Why does he flee?” Rhyas asked, returning to Saeryn’s side. As her senses returned, Saeryn felt something else through her athanc. It was like a sound only she could hear, a resonance that harmonized with the draconic crystal in her breast. Charsaug had felt it, too. “He seeks a greater prize now,” Saeryn replied. Te dragon’s new prey might be another of Everblight’s chosen, though she did not think so. Regardless, better anyone else than her or her twin.

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CHAPTER 13: VICTORIA HALEY Upon arriving at Orven’s gates, Haley had quickly explained their situation to the ranking officer, omitting the details that were most likely to incite panic. She and her party now trailed the captain of the guard through the streets of the mountain city toward the rail yard. As with the sprawling mining camps beyond the city walls, the streets of Orven were crowded with men and dwarves. Between the guard captain and the two warcasters at the fore, as well as the lumbering warjacks, the throngs made way long enough to let the group pass before filling the street once more. Many of the faces they passed were soot-laden from work within local coal mines. In addition to Orven’s industrial contributions, the city was well known as the birthplace of Primarch Arius of the Church of Morrow, and thus scores of Morrowans on pilgrimage filled the streets alongside the miners and merchants. Haley caught sight of a statue of the primarch in passing, a congregation of people gathered about his likeness. She thought of the younger version of herself that had manifested on the road and during the clash aboard the ship. She remembered the days she’d spent living within the walls of the Morrowan abbey that had taken her in after the death of her parents. Te nuns had been kind enough, but they hadn’t understood her budding powers, and she’d set out to enlist in the Cygnaran military at her earliest opportunity. She kept her faith in her own way, and she assumed that was good enough for Morrow.


Te city rose with the slope of the mountain itself, and as they moved north from the gate, they ascended a series of tiers, each higher than the last. Te dwarven enclave occupied the highest tiers; the guard captain explained that nearly half of the dwarven complex was underground. Te architecture of the uppermost tiers was noticeably different, taking on the aesthetic of the cities of Rhul. Haley recalled a lesson she’d received during her training at the Strategic Academy on the history of architecture as it pertained to war. Te people of Rhul had engaged in periodic and bitter conflict with one of the dragons, a creature called Scaefang. So looming had this threat been that the dwarves had taken to constructing their northernmost fortress-like cities to serve them against the winged monsters. Ticker walls and scores of cannons became the standard, and these features were equally represented in the construction of the enclave at Orven. Te rail yard was located between the southern districts and the dwarven enclave to the north. Here, the tracks leading into the city from the east divided into a series of switchbacks and turnarounds brimming with steam engines and cars loaded with ore stripped from the innards of the mountain. Te guard captain excused himself and moved off to meet one of the conductors and arrange their transport to Ironhead Station and the mountainous regions beyond. A whistle shrieked as a train laden with coal began to move, slowly at first and then building momentum. As it pulled out of the rail yard, a welcome sight was revealed: a Cygnaran military transport, with a locomotive named Lady Warthunder at its head, had been parked just behind it. A steel plow two feet thick and as tall as a warjack was mounted to the front of the locomotive, and armor of equal mass plated the length of the train. urrets outfitted with chain guns, cannons, and storm towers were affixed to the

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top of the cars at regular intervals. Several of the open cars were loaded down with Storm Striders capable of detaching from the Lady Warthunder for rapid deployment as needed. “Isn’t she just the most beautiful thing you’ve seen all day?” Strangewayes asked with a hint of awe in his voice. Haley would have suspected sarcasm given his usual nature but knew from past experience the mechanik had a genuine fondness for train engines. If he wasn’t in the military, he’d likely have gotten a job at one of the railway companies. “Looks like we’ve found our ride,” Blaize said. Haley nodded. “Come on. Let’s go have a word with the conductor and convince him we need to leave as soon as we’re loaded.” Stormsmiths and trenchers walked along the roofs of the cars, conducting equipment checks or hauling boxes of ammunition. Alongside the train, dozens of Cygnaran soldiers lay with their heads cradled by rucksacks as they tried to get some shut-eye. Others leaned against the train and smoked cigars or played games of cards atop wooden crates. Haley had ridden the Lady Warthunder in the days when she had fought Cryxians alongside the Tird Army. While armed to the teeth and capable of taking a beating, the Lady Warthunder was primarily used to transport Cygnaran soldiers on their way between Caspia and Westwatch. Orven was the last major city connected by rail in the western leg of such a journey, a major mustering point. When they found the conductor, he was shouting insults under the wheels of the locomotive. He clenched his cap in one hand, and his bald pate had gone a shade of red that matched his face. A second voice let out its own string of insults from beneath the train, and a greasy rag flew from darkness to hit the conductor full in the face, which did nothing to improve the man’s demeanor.

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WRATH WRATH OF THE DRAGO DRAGONF NFA ATHER THER ZACHARY C. PARKER •

“Pardon,” Haley said, drawing the conductor’s attention. He looked up at her with disdain before realizing he was being addressed by a warcaster and leapt to his feet to snap off a sloppy salute. Most trains within Cygnar’s borders were owned and operated by private companies rather than the military itself, and their crew was made up of company employees. Te conductor was the head of the crew, crew, responsible for overseeing cargo, the integrity of the cars, and the disposition of passengers. Te vehicle was ultimately his responsibility; he occupied a position akin to the captain of a ship. Nonetheless, a military transport like this had regular interactions with officers like Haley, Haley, and and it was in his his best best interests to cooperate. “Major,” the conductor said, checking the insignia on Haley’s shoulder. “How can I help you?” “We have critical cargo we need to transport east.” “What kind of cargo, Major?” the conductor asked. “Te kind that needs some big guns to watch over it,” Haley said. “Judging from your armament, I’d say you’re the ride we were hoping to find. Tis is a high-priority situation. We may have to displace some of your existing cargo and passengers, if need be. We We also need to leave at once.” As both a major and a warcaster, it was within Haley’ Haley’s authority to make such demands. demands. “Well, I hate to disappoint you, Major, but for the moment, we’re we’re not going anywhere. Te Lady ’s ’s had engine trouble since early this morning, and my engineers have been having a hell of a time trying to get her moving again. If I had to guess, I’d say we won’ won’t be going anywhere for a few hours at least, maybe longer. longer. You You’’re more than than welcome to wait it out.” out.” Haley tapped her fingers on the shaft of her spear and considered the options. She’d been on edge since her visions on the ship and wasn’ wasn’t keen to sit in any given place for too long. Te image of Orven burning still haunted her thoughts, not to mention concern

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about the blight. By taking one of the ore transports, they could leave within the hour and avoid any undue risk to the town, but such trains had little to no defense. In trying to expedite their departure, she could very easily doom the entire mission. “All right,” she said after a moment. “Strangewayes, see what you can do to help get the train moving.” moving.” “With pleasure,” Strangewayes said, and the smile on his face told Haley he meant it. “We can’t linger here,” Haley confided to Blaize. “I’m inclined to agree.” Blaize continued looking at the impressive war train. “Still, all things considered, I think you are making the right call.” Before Blaize could walk off, the bellow of horns sounded and stopped her in her tracks. Tere was first the sound of a single horn, distant and alone, but soon after, another joined and another and another, each closer than the last and adding to the chorus. Te guard captain who had escorted them from the gate, previously engaged in conversation with another conductor, ran past at a sprint. Several other men and women in uniform followed, checking the breeches of their rifles as they passed. A handful of well-armed dwarves ran the opposite direction, making for the dwarven enclave to the north. “Te alarm,” alarm,” Haley said. “Sentries must have spotted something. Come on.” From where they stood, they couldn’t see past the surrounding buildings, so Haley hauled herself up the ladder on the side of the Lady Warthunder . Blaize followed close behind. From atop the train, they could see to the southern gate and beyond. Guards rushed along the city walls and up the stairs to take positions. In the streets, the crowds surged northward to the upper tiers of the city. Te way they moved made Haley think of the way small schools of

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fish moved. Tey swarmed this way and that as they tried to escape something larger than themselves. A predator. predator. A roar washed over Orven like a wave. On the horizon, the unmistakable form of a dragon soared toward the city. Great leathery wings propelled its massive form through the sky effortlessly, and a tail listed from side to side behind it like some great serpent ready to strike. Haley’s mind filled with the visions from the disembodied athanc, and she cursed herself for bringing the heartstone to the people who dwelled here in the shadow of the mountain, whose homes and lives were now in danger. Te darkness that had surrounded her and her party was closing in, tightening like some great noose. Tree beats of the dragon’s wings brought it over the sprawling mining camps surrounding the city. Tere was a brilliant light as it unleashed a torrent of flame from its maw, reducing a crowd of fleeing workers to ash. wo more beats and it was at the southern wall. Gunfire erupted along the defenses, but the effort sounded feeble compared to the dragon’s roar. Another burst of flame consumed the defenders manning the southern gate, and a passing flick of the dragon’s tail shattered a guard tower, hurling masonry and broken bodies into the streets below. Using its gigantic claws, the dragon sheared the roof from an inn, then—with a single snap of its jaws—it devoured several guardsmen on horseback, steeds and all. Screams carried up from the lower tiers of the city, and the people of Orven ran for their lives, choking the tight streets. Above Above them, the dragon swept over their homes, indiscriminately bathing structures in fire. Windows burst from the heat, and great gouts of smoke billowed into the open sky. “Te dragon from the river,” Blaize said. Her face fell as she

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looked toward the artifact. “It must be after the athanc.” “Yes,” Haley said, “but it doesn’t know its exact location. Otherwise, it would be scorching the rail yard rather than the town.” Haley looked down the length of the train at the various turrets mounted atop the cars. “You!” she shouted to a nearby stormsmith who stood frozen as he watched the destruction below. below. “Tose Storm Striders, Striders, they can be detached?” “Aye, Major, Major,” the stormsmith replied. “See that it’s done. Send your commanding officer my way. Morrow be damned if we are going to sit here on our asses while Orven burns.” Te stormsmith rushed off to carry out her orders. Haley slung herself over the side of the locomotive and started back down the ladder. Blaize accompanied her. “Even with our own forces combined with the soldiers here, we don’t have any hope of besting a dragon,” Blaize said, scanning the fires burning beyond. “I don’t plan on beating it,” Haley replied, “just keeping its attention long enough for the townspeople to get to better shelter.” “And how do you suppose we do that?” Haley was desperately considering and rejecting possible plans. She had to get the dragon away from this city with its tens of thousands of people. “We show it where the stone is,” Haley said. “We use it as bait to get it away from Orven. Ironhead Station is completely underground. If we can get that far, we might have a chance.” “And if it catches us in the process?” Blaize asked. “What happens when the dragon gets what it’s after?” “I guess you’d better hope that Morrow really is watching over us today,” Haley replied. She dropped to one knee and peered under the locomotive at Strangewayes and the railwarden mechanik. “How long do you need to get the good lady running? running ? Don’ Don’t tell me hours. hour s.””

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Strangewayes wiped the sweat from his brow and twisted his massive wrench against something fitted to the underside of the train. “It won’t be my best work, but I can have her ready to move in twenty minutes.” Haley raised an eyebrow at him. “Captain, do you see what’s happening behind me?” As he looked past her, her, it was Strangewayes Strangewayes’’ turn to raise an eyebrow. eyebrow. “Maybe fifteen fift een minutes, minu tes, Major. If you don’t don’t mind it being held together by spit and grease.” “Fifteen it is,” Haley said. “We’ll be leaving in a hurry, needless to say. If this thing stops moving, we’ll all be dead before anyone can critique your repairs.” “Understood,” Strangewayes said. He went back to work with focused intensity. Haley nodded before heading off toward the nearest Storm Strider. “Well, you already came back from death once,” she muttered to herself, looking off at the massive black form of the dragon as it devastated the town, “ime to double down.”

Haley and Blaize clung to the Storm Strider’s platform as the machine carried them from the train and down Orven’s streets. A pair of stormsmiths worked to both steer the Strider and control the flux of energy flowing through its core. Under Haley’s orders, they had overclocked the voltaic generators and harmonized their output to produce a more powerful effect. Te additional strain on the machine would lead to the hardware rapidly burning out, but Haley didn’t anticipate the Storm Striders surviving the coming battle. Her primary concern was doing enough damage to the dragon to initiate its pursuit. Each of the six Storm Striders Striders crackled with excess voltaic energy

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that pushed their design to its limits. o avoid large losses from a single blast of flame, the force had split up and now traveled along adjacent streets as they closed in on the dragon’s position. Moving in a column would have been reckless—the battle could end far too fast if they weren’t careful. Haley had insisted Blaize stay behind to make the necessary preparations rather than putting herself at risk without her arcane turbine. Blaize, however, had stoutly refused, so Chaplain Corley had accepted responsibility responsi bility for organizing organ izing the train’s train’s defenses in her stead. Warjacks and Cygnaran troops had been taking up positions along the length of the Lady Warthund as they’d departed. Warthunder er as Te gathering storm clouds had coalesced and further darkened, and a light rain had started down on the city. city. Despite the reduced visibility, visibility, Haley was grateful for the rain. A good downpour would help tamp down the fires, and already the turbines of the Storm Striders were responding to the weather as their stormsmith operators prepared prepared to call lightning from the skies to sear their foe. Up ahead, a tavern exploded in a shower of splinters as though it were made from nothing more more than matchsticks. When When the debris cleared, the visage of the dragon hunkered down at the end of the street, its eyes fixed on Haley’s Strider. “Fire!” Haley shouted, and the whirring machine at her back pulsed with blue light and issued a high-pitched keening sound before throwing a massive bolt of voltaic power to blast the dragon in the chest. A cry of rage erupted from the dragon. Te beast opened its maw to the point of nearly unhinging its jaw, jaw, and a fiery fier y glow bloomed in its throat. “Hard left!” Haley pointed poi nted at a nearby alleyway, and the platform gave a jerk as the Strider darted from the street to avoid the torrent of flame that consumed the shops and cracked the cobblestones under the intense heat. “Evasive maneuvers! See if you can’t bring

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us around to the flank!” Haley braced her legs, grabbed a nearby handle set into the mechanism as the Strider swung into motion, and focused her mind on speeding up the machine’s movements. Lending speed to something so large took considerable effort, but under her guidance, the pistons of the Strider’s four mechanikal legs clattered more rapidly, ushering the machine down the twisting backstreets with newfound haste. A shower of masonry exploded behind them as the dragon tore through the surrounding buildings. Bricks clattered against the back side of the Strider, hitting the sparking and rotating orb at its core. As they repositioned themselves, the sounds of the other Striders charging and emitting blasts of energy drowned out the low rumble of the storm. Again the dragon roared, its tone one of anger and frustration, and the sound brought Haley a degree of satisfaction. Unlike gunfire, the dragon’s thick scales could not simply shake off the voltaic damage. “Charsaug!” Blaize called over the commotion. “What are you saying?” Haley asked. “I remember reading an account by Viktor Pendrake about his time among the Skorne Empire. It mentioned a dragon from the east that matches this creature. Te dragon’s name was Charsaug.” “I don’t think it matters,” Haley muttered, “unless we want to know the name of the thing that killed all of us.” She directed them around another corner, and again the dragon loomed. alons swept down to strike one of the other Storm Striders, cleaving the arcane core from atop the platform. Tere was an earsplitting sound akin to the charging of the Striders’ weapons, only louder, and in the next instant, the demolished machine exploded in a blinding white light, sending out of pulse of voltaic energy. Where the overloaded Strider had been, only a heap of twisted metal remained. Of the crew, there was no sign.

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Te remaining Striders emerged from the surrounding streets to discharge one voltaic blast after the next at Charsaug’s towering frame, and under the combined assault, the dragon staggered backward, crushing a church and several homes as it backpedaled. Despite the dragon’s long centuries of existence, it seemed unfamiliar with the pain of concentrated lightning, although it appeared more disoriented and enraged than actually injured. “Forward!” Haley cried. “Push the advantage!” At her command, the stormsmiths sent the machine charging up the street. Static and the smell of burnt ozone filled the air as the weapons whined and fired. Cracking arcs of blue lightning scoured the dragon as the Striders pressed in and urged their overclocked weapon systems to do their work. Charsaug struck the nearest Strider with his tail and sent the machine and its crew hurtling through a wall. Before the crew hit the ground, the dragon unleashed a fan of flames that charred a second Strider beyond recognition, prompting another overload and explosion. “I’d say we’ve done enough to get his attention,” Blaize said, making a gesture of benediction for the lost stormsmiths. “How about we make for the train while we still can?” Haley nodded in agreement and gave the order to fall back. A last bolt of energy shot from their Strider, and then they were rushing through the streets once more, taking a jagged course to the train. Te sound of another Strider going critical carried from behind, and Haley put all of her effort into increasing their speed. A stream of flame ignited the buildings on the right side of the street and scorched the edge of the Strider’s platform. A shadow eclipsed the Strider, and for a moment the rain ceased, blocked by the dragon’s massive body as it passed overhead. Charsaug’s speed was astonishing, and all Haley could do was watch in horror as the

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dragon wheeled about in the air and prepared to make another pass. Te street was a straight shot with limited cover, and the alleyways they passed were far too narrow for the Storm Strider. Charsaug swept forward, his maw open. Flames gathered within the dragon’s mouth, and at that moment Haley felt as though she were peering into a great furnace on the verge of belching forth her ultimate demise. Te thunderous boom of cannon fire erupted in an avalanche of sound, and in the final moment before the street was turned into an inferno, a series of projectiles slammed into Charsaug with enough force to turn the dragon about in the air. Haley stood rooted to the spot, unsure of what she was seeing until she remember the cannons dotting the walls of the dwarven enclave at the uppermost limits of the city. Another barrage of cannon fire drove Charsaug to a higher altitude in an attempt to evade the explosive projectiles. Haley’s Storm Strider lurched forward and again made for the train with an additional burst of mobility from Haley’s mind. Dwarven shells that missed their target rained down indiscriminately on the flaming remnants of the southern district, producing groundshaking explosions and flying debris. Portions of the surrounding architecture were shattered into a hail of rubble, and Haley put all of her will into her power field to deflect stray pieces. Above, Charsaug circled, preparing for another pass at the Strider. Blackened ichor ran back along its scaled form, but it seemed only superficially injured as it dove. Te Strider reached an alley that would accommodate its size and banked off of the main street, two of its legs riding high on a wall before it leveled out. Flame blasted the street behind them and licked at the entrance to the alleyway. Te Strider turned onto the next street over, cutting off the view of the flames.

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A grating sound followed a number of loud pops from the Strider’s core, and the stormsmiths exchanged looks of concern. Te strain of running so hot was beginning to compromise the machine’s storm chamber, but they couldn’t afford to stop short of the train. A landslide of debris churned over the street behind them as Charsaug plowed through the buildings in pursuit, and the Strider unleashed bolt after bolt of voltaic energy against him. What followed was a rapid game of cat and mouse, the Strider disappearing down one alley and the next while Charsaug set Orven aflame and smashed through every obstacle in his path. “We’re almost there!” Blaize shouted over the escalating grinding of the Strider’s core. “Now, we just have to hope that Strangewayes is as good as his word,” Haley said looking at the suspiciously smokeless train just beyond.

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CHAPTER 14: BROGAN CORLEY Battle Chaplain Corley strode the length of the train, alternating between barking orders and offering encouragement. Under his direction, the Precursor knights and Cygnaran reserves had taken up defensive positions along the train. Each turret was loaded with a fresh belt of ammunition and those stormsmiths who had not gone off to combat the dragon atop the Storm Striders now stood ready beside the various storm towers dotting the cars. A mixture of Sentinel, Cyclone, and Defender warjacks idled within the open doors of boxcars, prepared to fire on any threat that presented itself. While Corley had always put more faith in a strong sword arm and the proper set of prayers, he was nonetheless glad to see so many well-oiled machines at their disposal. A single car remained sealed, free from the bustle of combat, and it was there Corley had ordered Skillet and the athanc containment field to remain. He had hoped the thick steel walls of the car would help shield others from the blight leaking from the cube. He gripped the handle of the door and slid it back just far enough to climb through. Skillet faced the rear of the car, and Corley was greeted by the ’jack’s backside. When he had last stepped inside, the soft glow of Skillet’s furnace had partially illuminated the dark interior, which remained stoked in case they needed to relocate the athanc. Strangely, the warjack’s furnace was now dark. Corley took his mace in hand and approached warily. Te thrum


of the improvised containment field permeated the inside of the car, yet another sound overshadowed it. A repetitious clanging like a hammer striking an anvil rang out in the dark from somewhere in front of Skillet. “Hello?” Corley called as he advanced. It was only when he moved around the side of Skillet that he caught sight of the junior mechanik. Her condition had worsened since the march to Orven, her skin taking on an almost corpselike pallor. Her expression was vacant with dark circles surrounding her eyes. A trickle of blood ran over her lower lip. Her exposure to the athanc had taken a toll on more than her body. Corley was startled to see her here at all, not thinking she was capable of even standing. He had last seen her lying in a hospital car at the rear of the train, unconscious and wasting away. As he came forward, she drew her fist back, and he caught a glint of metal before she brought a wrench against the containment field’s generator. A metallic clang filled the car, and the wrench left another mark in a series of dents on the generator’s casing. “Wait!” Corley yelled, moving to grab the troubled junior mechanik, but before he could seize her, the wrench came down again, this time striking the arcane turbine with enough force to throw the rotating cylinder out of true. A tremendous grating erupted from the generator, and in the next instant, Corley tackled the mechanik. Te wrench flew from the junior mechanik’s hand and clattered across the floor. Her eyes were crazed and wide with rage, and she snarled and lunged at him. Corley pulled his head back and her teeth gnashed together inches from his face. She broke into a fit of coughing and pawed at Corley’s armor before falling unconscious, a trickle of black blood rolling from the corner of her mouth. Behind them, the grating of the arcane turbine intensified for a

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moment and then fell silent. Before Corely could react, the steady thrum of the containment field ceased. Te silence that followed was like that of a tomb. Te only sounds were of the mechanik’s heavy breathing and the pounding of Corley’s heartbeat in his temple. He stared at the generator, praying it would somehow start up again, that somehow it would continue to contain whatever was within and preserve them all. It did not.

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CHAPTER 15: VICTORIA HALEY Charsaug gave a terrible roar and lifted into the sky with one mighty beat of his wings, leaving the Storm Strider below. “Why did he…?” Blaize began but trailed off as she watched Charsaug wheel about in the air and soar toward the rail yard. Haley willed the Storm Strider to move faster as panic seized her. “Tere’s only one thing that could have captured his attention,” she said. Te dwarven cannons positioned along the city’s upper tiers fired relentlessly at the swooping dragon, but he pressed on, refusing to be deterred from his course. “Te train,” Blaize said. “We’ll be arriving at a massacre. Te dragon will tear the rail yard to pieces and everyone in it. And we’ll lose the athanc for certain.” Haley cursed herself once more for bringing the athanc within Orven’s walls. Te lives and homes of so many burned around them as they traversed the streets, and she shuddered at the thought of finding the Lady Warthunder reduced to a mangled heap of wreckage, littered with the bodies of Cygnar’s defenders. She gritted her teeth and forced the Strider to move faster. If her soldiers were to die, she would die with them. “Incoming!” shouted one of the stormsmiths. Behind the Storm Strider, three of the largest dragonspawn Haley had ever seen flew over the remains of Orven’s southern


district. Tough their size could not rival that of Charsaug, each was easily as large as any of the city’s structures. Tey moved with the same graceful menace, and as they passed overhead, Haley caught sight of the Nyss riding atop two of their number. “Te warlocks from the river,” Blaize said as the dragonspawn passed overhead, their flight path clearly taking them toward the rail yard. “Tey’re here for the athanc.” “Perfect,” Haley said. “As if one dragon wasn’t enough.” She turned and shouted over the whining Storm Strider engine to the controller stormsmith. “Get us to the rail yard!” Te stormsmith grinned, “Fast as lightning, ma’am!” Haley nodded in assent, but her brow furrowed as she looked back toward the rapidly receding dragonspawn. She hardly believed lightning would be fast enough. Nothing she could even imagine would be fast enough.

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CHAPTER 16: SAERYN Saeryn’s grip on the spines of the archangel tightened as they swept over the burning Cygnaran city. Although the dragonspawn weren’t created as mounts, Saeryn had determined using them as transports was worth the risk to catch up with the Cygnarans following the debacle on the river and Charsaug’s sudden appearance. o support their attack, Lylyth had sent them the archangels when they had decided to press ahead of the others. Tese same spawn had clashed with Charsaug once before, and the wounds they had inflicted had been enough to rekindle his fear of his mortality. Saeryn could only hope the spawn would elicit the same reaction in the coming fight. While she knew destroying the dragon was impossible, she just needed to distract him long enough to secure the shard. She spied a lone Cygnaran lightning walker moving through the street below and recognized those on its platform as the warcasters she and Rhyas had battled earlier. Under other circumstances, she would have changed the course of her dragonspawn to engulf the machine in blue flame and conclude their previous fight, but there was no time. Ahead of them, Charsaug made for the rail yard. As he neared, a deluge of gunfire and voltaic energy shot from the length of an armored train. Saeryn watched as Charsaug twitched and snapped his jaws. Te sheer volume of firepower did its job and sent him


into a high orbit around the site. He circled the train like a great vulture circling a dying animal. “Tere,” Saeryn said, pointing to the train. “Tey must plan to take it from the city.” Rhyas unslung her weapon, Antiphon, and held the blade before her at the ready. “What now?” “Te Cygnarans won’t last long with Charsaug on their heels,” Saeryn said. “We must act as the diversion and give them a fighting chance. Help them keep the shard today so we can pry it from their cold fingers tomorrow. Let us show Charsaug why we are Everblight’s talons.”

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CHAPTER 17: VICTORIA HALEY T he Storm Strider had shuddered and died two blocks from the rail yard; the strain had been too much for its core. Now Haley and Blaize sprinted toward the rattle of gun and cannon fire and the crackle of the train’s storm towers. An aerial battle unfolded above them. Rather than assaulting the train, the massive dragonspawn that had passed overhead now orbited the dragon, taking turns delivering coordinated strikes and using the maneuverability of their smaller forms to evade Charsaug’s snapping maw. Tey tore into Charsaug’s wings and clawed at his eyes, aiming to harm those portions of the dragon’s anatomy most vulnerable and vital to its defense. “What in Morrow’s name is going on up there?” Blaize asked, watching the ensuing clash through the pouring rain. “First the Nyss try and kill us at the river, now they defend us?” “Clearly they feel we are the lesser of their enemies for the time being,” Haley said, panting as they ran on toward the rail yard. “Whatever their aims, I’ll take it if it means our train makes it out of Orven without being torched to smoldering scrap.” As Haley watched transfixed by the sight of the battle above, the draconic figures climbed higher into the sky. Seeing a godlike being locked in battle with the spawn of a hated foe, both sides fighting with a ferocity that belied their ancient rivalry, oddly pleased her. Gouges opened along Charsaug’s side and across the membrane


of his wings as the more nimble dragonspawn used their numbers and maneuverability to harry the much larger and more powerful dragon. It reminded Haley of how a pack of wolves would attack a much larger creature. Despite the carnage, Charsaug did not seem weakened. What would have been a devastating wound for any other creature was nearly insignificant upon his enormous form. With a lash of his tail, the dragon struck one of the spawn and sent it hurtling downward downward into a rail yard warehouse below. He caught another spawn with a breath of flame, the intense heat charring half of its body and shriveling the wing on that side. As the battle continued to unfold, Haley and Blaize passed the last buildings surrounding the rail yard and made for the Lady Warthunder . Flames and black oily smoke licked the sky where Charsaug had unleashed gouts of his awful flame. Te screams of the wounded and dying mixed with the roar of gunfire in an apocalyptic cacophony. Chain gunners atop the cars chewed through belts of ammunition as they pivoted their turrets in one direction and then the other, other, trying to follow the battle above them. Storm towers flashed with strobes of voltaic power and threatened to overload, and artillery pieces thundered their response. Warjacks Warjacks unleashed a hail of lead into the sky, the barrels of their weapons glowing red. “Strangewayes?” Haley called, ignoring the chaos of battle around her. She hoisted herself up the side of the locomotive and peered into the cabin. Plates of steel and piping lay across the floor, floor, and the mechanik was fiddling with the blowtorch in his hand. “Don’t tell me we’re still waiting on repairs,” she said, restraining a growl of displeasure. “Fine, I won’ won’t tell you,” Strangewayes said, keeping his hi s attention on the work at hand. “I take it from the ungodly noise out there

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that your distraction did not go as planned?” Sweat rolled down his face, and his pipe was clenched in his mouth as usual, but its contents had gone cold. “Something’s happened to the containment field,” Haley said. “Te dragon knows the athanc is here. Listen, when you get this thing moving, don’t wait for orders. Just get us out of here.” “Got it,” Strangewayes said. “ell the lads to keep that winged monstrosity off the train for a few more minutes, and I’ll have us underway.” Haley dropped from the side of the locomotive. “You,” she said, addressing the nearby field medic. “See that the wounded are loaded onto the train. We’re leaving.” Without waiting for a response, she started down the length of cars. “What now?” Blaize asked, keeping pace at Haley’s side. “We “We need to examine the athanc and assess ass ess the situation, situation ,” Haley said. Tey spotted Brogan Corley heading their way at a jog, a distressed look on his face. “We “We have a problem,” Corley said. “It’s “It’s Reynolds. Reynold s. She’s She’s sabotaged sabotag ed the containment field. Lost her head.” “Well, that explains why the dragon lost interest in our Strider,” Haley said. “Where is she?” “Passed out. I had her restrained and loaded into one of the supply cars. Would have sent her to the hospital car,” Corley gestured to the flaming cars at the end of the train, “but we’ve lost it.” “See that she’s looked after,” Haley said. “And do what you can for the wounded. We should be underway momentarily.” Corley gave a curt nod and broke away to carry out his orders. Haley and Blaize continued down the train toward the artifact and its damaged arcane turbine.

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“We must exercise the upmost caution,” Blaize said. “If the field is down, there’s no telling how the athanc might affect the crew. My instinct tells me it’s no accident Reynolds lost control.” “Agreed,” Haley said. Tey reached the car housing the athanc prison and climbed aboard. As they moved inside to inspect the damage, the Lady Warthunder let out two long whistles. With a hiss of steam, the train began to lurch forward. Tey were on the move at last.

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CHAPTER 18: SAERYN T he archangels were unaccustomed to carrying riders.

Despite the focused efforts of Saeryn and Rhyas, the twins struggled to maintain their mental hold and guide the gargantuan dragonspawn. Saeryn clutched at her archangel’s spines as the beast dipped and dived, narrowly avoiding the snapping jaws of Charsaug while she struggled to line up attack runs. Blue flame exhaled by the archangels roiled over Charsaug’s scales, but the breath of the dragonspawn had no effect. Te same could not be said for the breath of Charsaug. A font of the dragon’s flame had already caught Saeryn once, crippling one of her archangel’s wings. While Saeryn had been spared from the dragon’s fire, her proximity to the blast had made her skin crack and blister beneath the shimmering heat. She shunted the wound to the third archangel that bore no rider. Already, the spare beast was horribly battered from crashing into one of the buildings below. Saeryn’s skin had healed, but a burning sensation plagued the portions of her body that had been exposed. She directed the riderless archangel in a wide arc that took it past Charsaug’s face to distract the dragon while she and Rhyas swept in from behind. Te claws of their archangels tore into the membrane of Charsaug’s wings before the pair quickly retreated once more, fighting against the driving rain to gain altitude. Already Charsaug’s wings were littered with a dozen such cuts and


tears, but the wounds only seemed to stoke the dragon’s rage. Tey did not yet impair his flight. With a great beat of his wings, he soared upward in pursuit. Shots from the armored train below and the cannons on the distant walls snapped and whined. Tey targeted Charsaug, but Saeryn had to weave her mount around the streams of incoming fire. ogether, she and Rhyas doubled back to strike at the wings of their enemy. A combination of talons, blades, and spells opened new gashes along Charsaug’s wings, and Saeryn felt a swell of pride as they cleared the dragon’s reach once more. Te riderless archangel was not so lucky. A torrent of flame consumed the wounded spawn as it passed, and in the next instant, Charsaug stripped the beast’s head clean from its shoulders with a swipe of his claws. Te train bearing the athanc had gained momentum and now rolled away from the rail yard. Te corners of Saeryn’s lips twitched in a brief smile. With the train underway, she only had to hold Charsaug’s attention a little longer. As she watched another series of explosive Rhulic shells hammer against the dragon’s side, her mind turned to the possibility of downing the dragon here and now. She lofted her spear, signaling for Rhyas to follow her lead, and together they swept toward the wounded dragon under the cover of artillery. Tey never reached their target. Over wind and rain came a roar that did not belong to Charsaug, a roar to dwarf the cries of thunder and cannons. An avalanche of scales the color of oiled steel cut through the storm and seized Rhyas’ archangel in a maw of jagged teeth before biting the spawn in two. Te halves tumbled, entrails following behind with Rhyas in tow, cascading toward the cobbled streets.

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Ashnephos, Charsaug’s twin, had come to Orven. Saeryn wheeled about the remaining archangel and dove, racing the free-falling form of her sister as she tumbled through the air. Te ground rushed up to meet her, its details swelling into view, but still she urged the archangel to dive faster. It was only at the last moment that the beast swerved abruptly to correct itself. Saeryn caught Rhyas by the wrist, both arms nearly wrenched from their sockets by the momentum of her sister’s fall. Rhyas swung herself onto the archangel and wrapped her arms around Saeryn’s middle. Ash and fire turned what remained of the rail yard into a raging inferno, and Saeryn pressed herself low against the remaining archangel as she fled the wrath of Charsaug and Ashnephos.

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CHAPTER 19: VICTORIA HALEY Haley leaned out of the car in time to see the remnants of an archangel tumble into the streets below. Looking up, she was startled to find a second dragon was responsible for tearing the dragonspawn in two. Haley and the others climbed atop the train to gain a better vantage point. Surrounded by stormsmiths, trenchers, and Precursors, they watched the dragons incinerate the rail yard. “Ashnephos,” Blaize said, stepping forward. “According to Professor Pendrake’s account, he and Charsaug are the remnants of the dragon Erdross. Long ago, the giants of the Suneater Mountains in eastern Immoren brought that great dragon low. Upon this victory, the giants sought to destroy the athanc by shattering it and casting the pieces into a nearby volcano. Te athanc was not undone. Rather, two dragons rose in Erdross’ place, each possessing half of Erdross’ strength. Even diminished, they remain a great terror, doubly so when working together.” “I’d find that more interesting,” Haley said, “if we didn’t have to face both of them.” Te Lady Warthunder picked up speed, and those aboard witnessed Charsaug’s flames envelope the motionless locomotives and the people still lingering among them. Ashnephos followed behind, adding his own flame to the inferno. Unlike his fellow dragons, Asphnephos’ breath left a unique cloud of blighted ash.


Tose who had escaped the flames now fell to the ground with their hands at their throats, gasping for clean air. ogether, Charsaug and Ashnephos swept over the wreckage, crisscrossing one another, and followed the tracks the Lady Warthunder now traveled. “Well,” Blaize said, “we succeeded in getting their attention. At least some of Orven still stands.” “Hold fast!” Haley called to those trenchers and stormsmiths positioned along the cars. “We aren’t out of the woods yet! When they get on top of us, give them everything you’ve got! Concentrated bursts! Let the storm towers build to maximum charge before firing!” She sprinted toward the rear of the train, leaping from one car to the next while shouting orders and words of encouragement. Lifts outfitted within the cars hoisted warjacks to the roof and belts of ammunition were hauled from below. She sensed Torn’s cortex as she neared. Once the ’jack was topside, she ordered it to follow her. She reached the last car and slid to a stop. Te dragons were closing on the Lady Warthunder , and the head start the train once had was quickly diminishing. Haley peered over the back of the train. Mile after mile of tracks rushed out from beneath the wheels, but not quickly enough. Te Lady Warthunder was nearing its top speed, and they would still be overtaken within moments. Haley positioned herself at the center of the car. Te visions she’d seen showed nothing but destruction, but she had to believe she had been spared from death for a reason. She would not give up the train or its cargo without a final fight. She dropped to one knee and pressed a hand to the cold steel of the car’s armor plating and planted Echo beside her. On her hike down the Banwick and again on the trip to Orven, she had used her powers to create a bubble of time, augmenting their speed to expedite travel. Now, she put her mind to a much larger task. Calling upon the deepest reserves of her will, she fought to lend the Lady Warthunder the

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speed it so desperately needed. One by one, she felt the weight of the cars press down on her mind. Gritting her teeth, she pushed the magic further than she ever had before. She ignored the feeling of her heart beating faster against her chest and its throbbing echo in her temples. “Bridge!” someone shouted, passing the word. Te upcoming bridge spanned the Banwick and would take the train across the river, but it also presented a weakness. While the armored train might survive a degree of abuse from its pursuers, the bridge itself would not. One good hit and the entire structure would come crashing down. If Charsaug and Ashnephos caught up to the train before it completed the crossing, everyone onboard would be dashed upon the rocks below and crushed beneath the mass of the Lady Warthunder . Tey needed to go faster. Haley doubled her efforts, feeling the strain take its toll on her body. A tension took root in her spine, and her teeth seemed to rattle in their sockets. Te throbbing in her temples became blinding agony. All she could do was clench her jaw to silence the pain. While she felt no surge in movement from atop the train, anything beyond it slowed. Te smoke pouring from the locomotive’s stacks seemed to hang in the air behind them as her spell manipulated the passage of time. Te rocky landscape on either side of the tracks gave way to open air, and the rush of the river sounded from below. Tey were traversing the bridge. Te dragons came on, but outside the time bubble, their movements seemed slow and sluggish, as if they flew through a thick and viscous liquid. Te rearmost chain guns opened up to pepper their gigantic forms with round after round, to little apparent effect. A bolt of voltaic energy shot from a nearby storm tower to blast Charsaug’s snout, provoking more of a reaction. Charsaug veered off, agitated by the modern weaponry, but Ashnephos was

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not deterred. Te dragon’s jaws opened and snapped together to shear off the back half of the rearmost car in a show of sparks and screeching metal. Te rear wheels gone with the back half of the car, the remnants fell at an angle and dragged along the tracks, tearing apart the wooden ties and bending the rails. Haley gripped the upper edge of the car and struggled to pull herself out of harm’s way. Screams sounded below her, catching her attention. She looked over her shoulder to see a pair of railwardens tumble from the interior of the car and plummet toward the river below, hitting the scaffolding of the bridge as they fell. A hand gripped Haley’s forearm. “Come on,” Blaize said as she hauled Haley up from the dragging car. “Te Lady needs another boost before we all end up charred.” Blaize extended her hand, runes flared, and a blast of light struck the coupling between the cars, blowing the connection apart in a hail of shrapnel. Te mangled, half-eaten car fell away, colliding with struts before disappearing from sight. Without the drag, the train picked up speed again. Below, Charsaug strafed along the side of the bridge and let loose a blast of flame at the extensive supports that kept the tracks aloft. Te struts crackled as they caught fire, and the whole of the bridge groaned and popped as it threatened to give way. “Move!” Haley shouted. “Move up the train! Te bridge won’t hold!” ogether, Haley and Blaize sprinted over the cars. As they went, Haley urged the soldiers atop the rear cars to abandon their posts and run. Tere was a sharp snapping sound, and the train beneath them listed to one side before righting itself. Te disturbance was enough to throw several trenchers over the side and send others rolling across the roofs. More sounds followed—like the snapping

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of trees over the knees of giants—and the whole of the bridge buckled beneath the train. Just as the locomotive reached the end of the bridge and crossed onto solid ground once more, the center of the bridge fell. Te collapse spread in both directions, the flaming struts snapping like overburdened matchsticks. Haley and Blaize looked back in time to watch the rear of the train enter free fall, those still aboard clinging to the cars for dear life. Steeling herself, Haley called up her powers over time in an attempt to slow the failing of the bridge and stall the descent of the rear of the train. Her muscles went taut and the mental strain threatened to crush her. Te cars and rails and burning supports crowded her mind. Tere was too much to hold at once, their combined mass too great to counteract. And yet, the impending disaster started to slow under her efforts. Te collapse was unfolding at half-speed before her eyes. Tose soldiers who had not abandoned the rear portions of the train fast enough met her gaze with expressions of horror, their mouths open in wide screams as the cars beneath them dropped. In the back of her mind, something demanded that she sever the plummeting cars before they pulled the rest of the train into the river. She pushed the thought aside and gritted her teeth, trying in vain to keep the rear of the train aloft long enough to find a solution. She had commandeered the Lady Warthunder for her own use, and she refused to send half of the crew to their deaths. Te projection of Past materialized beside her and darted for the falling cars. Again, she seemed linked to Haley’s emotional state, conjured by her distress. Runes surrounded the youth’s hands, and a flash of light accompanied the bolts of lightning that arced from her palms. One of the train couplings exploded in a shower of sparks and twisted steel.

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“No!” Haley cried, extending a gloved hand in the direction of the lost cars. Te bridge signaled its end with its loudest clang yet, and the car Haley stood on raced over the last expanse of the river to be met by packed earth, and she watched as a half dozen cars dropped from sight to clash with the burning struts or to crash into the cliff side, carried by their momentum. Nothing but open air hung over the Banwick, yet the screams of the doomed passengers followed the train. Haley could not tell if the cries were real or a product of her own mind. Anger burned within her at the rash nature of her younger self, but deep down she knew it had been her own secret thoughts that had summoned Past and compelled her to sever the cars. Before guilt could overwhelm her, Charsaug and Ashnephos glided back into view, closing in on what remained of the train. Future appeared along with Past and stepped up beside Haley, ready to do battle with the oncoming dragons. Past stood rooted to the spot, her feet planted firmly apart, and a cocky grin on her face while Future floated in silence and kept pace with the train. Te mountainous terrain of the northern Wyrmwall rose up on both sides of the Lady Warthunder , and the roars of Charsaug and Ashnephos echoed from the peaks until it sounded as though the mountains roared along with them. Winged shadows swept through sheets of rain and over the thin pass that allowed for the train. Tey had crossed the Banwick with the athanc intact, but nearly a hundred miles separated the train from Ironhead Station. Only a miracle would see them reach the city under the mountain. Once again, Haley placed her hand against the armored plating of the train and willed time to accelerate for them. Although the strain was considerable, the reduced size of the train made the act easier, and she could feel her influence take effect almost

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immediately. Haley’s pulse quickened, and the train thundered down the tracks. An outcropping above exploded in a hail of stone and rained down upon the train, sending the defenders ducking behind what cover they could find, and through the debris came Charsaug. Te dragon dove into the shallow pass, and what remained of the Lady Warthunder ’s defenses opened fire. Torn moved through the incorporeal form of Future with a hiss and clank to stand before Haley, its shield raised in a protective stance. Te sight of the warjack was reassuring, and Haley gave a nod, which was more to herself than to Torn or the projections. She focused her thoughts and willed the temporal distortion surrounding the train to hold. Flashes of arcane energy shot from Past’s fingertips and passed through Torn’s arc node to strike at Charsaug, hitting the dragon with a series of blasts. In response, Charsaug expelled another bout of flame, which Torn leaned into to shield Haley with its body, while the blaze passed harmlessly through the bodies of Past and Future. Te fire roasted a number of the defenders alive and cooked off cases of ammunition that were waiting to be loaded into chain guns. A storm tower let out a high-pitched whine before exploding, killing its operators and tearing the roof from its car. In the next moment, Charsaug and Ashnephos suddenly veered off, sweeping their wings with such power that they generated a blast of air as they sought to gain altitude. Haley felt dread as the vision of looming blackness that had impelled her to embark on this journey suddenly engulfed her.

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CHAPTER 20: LORTUS Lortus watched from on high as the twin dragons born of Erdross chased what remained of a Cygnaran train through the Wyrmwall. Charsaug the Mountain Shadow, whose scales were as black as starless night, bathed the train in flame, warping the metal of the armored cars and turning the defenders to ash. Ashnephos, known as Giant’s Bane to those in the far east, followed close behind, talons and scales glinting like sharpened steel. Tose aboard the transport had fought valiantly, but Lortus had no doubt they would be overcome. Even with their newly developed technology, the forces of mankind cowered when faced with the legends of old. A chaos that knew no limits had been unleashed since his meeting with Krueger, just as he had feared. For the first time in over a thousand years, the dragon alliance had been stirred to action. Pyres of smoke and ash billowed from forests and fields, villages and towns were burned to their foundations, and intense blight scarred the earth, leaving wounds to linger and fester. Of these attacks, the fire was by far the most forgiving. Where the mortals fought back with any effectiveness, they spilled the blood of the dragons, a poisonous ichor that could warp the very fabric of life. Lortus had witnessed animals within his domain limping through the forests and glens on malformed legs, their spines made crooked by exposure to intense blight. As Everblight was their sole target, the dragons made no moves


against the cities of men. Te agents of the Betrayer would find no quarter within their walls, and so the civilizations spanning the western half of the continent wouldn’t comprehend the destruction being wrought beyond their doorsteps. “I underestimated him. I should have intervened before it got this far,” Lortus muttered to himself, though he knew he had not had sufficient armed forces to contest the site held by the Stormlord for his ceremony. By the time he could have gathered his own army, it would have been too late. Perhaps he should have sacrificed his own life to strike Krueger down, though self-preservation was such a strongly ingrained habit that Lortus was not sure if he possessed the courage for such selfless sacrifice. Te omnipotent clenched his fists tight at his sides. He had spent long years of his life observing the dragon Blighterghast in the southern Wyrmwall. Like the rest of the council, he had taken on a policy of noninvolvement with the dragons, acting only to limit the effect of their blight on the ley lines and seeking to discourage others from antagonizing them. By and large, this policy had sufficed—the dragons were immortal and patient, and they were locked into a battle of wills with oruk, their creator. Tey acted only rarely, but when they moved, disaster invariably followed. Dragons did not eat, they did not procreate, and their schemes could take centuries to unfold. It was Blighterghast who kept vigil against oruk. Silent and watchful, Blighterghast’s eyes remained on the Dragonfather day and night, even as Lortus’ eyes had been upon him. Now, against the warnings of his superiors, the Stormlord had made contact with Blighterghast and awakened the might of many dragons to quell the actions of one. Below, the wins of Erdross took turns assaulting the rearmost cars of the train, occasionally veering off when stuck by lightning or gunfire. Claws slashed steel, and gusts of ash and flame licked at

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the beleaguered defenders. Clearly, some unnatural influence was acting upon the train—it was moving at a rate surpassing anything Lortus had seen before. Powerful magic was warping reality around the length of the machine, saving it from instant annihilation. From his place on the mountainside, Lortus could sense something else happening here, something of great power. As his mind reached toward this enigma, sudden realization made his eyes narrow. “Te loose athanc? Here?” Te Circle Orboros had sought in vain to thwart its enemies from recovering the disembodied dragon athanc. Te last he had heard about its location was that Cygnar had defeated the Cryxians who had previously possessed it somewhere on the Dragon’s ongue near the Ordic border, but he had not known its fate. Tat the Cygnarans were foolish enough to carry it deep into their interior did not surprise him—undoubtedly, they had no idea what forces they provoked. And now it was all coinciding with Krueger’s insane ceremony. Te dragons had been stirred to action. Te greatest bait they could imagine was put on a train and driven before them. Te scope of the potential disaster they faced became clear. Without warning, Charsaug and Ashnephos swept skyward, abandoning their chase of the train. A hushed silence fell over the mountainside, and the wind grew still and stopped the sway of branches. Te songs of birds died in their throats, and all the small traces of life Lortus felt through his connection to the wilds either burrowed into the earth or fled. A sense of wrongness pervaded the ley lines, and the energy that flowed through those ancient arteries of Caen slowed as if they had been chilled and made sluggish. On the horizon, a storm front bloomed with clouds as black as coal dust. Te storm poured over the land with a speed greater than any weather, and the sky seemed to buckle under its presence. Te black clouds roiled, and looking at them, Lortus thought not of clouds

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but of the ashes of long-dead kings and the embers of civilizations reduced to dust. At the storm’s center came a terrible visage clad in scale, tooth, claw, and balefire. “oruk!” Lortus gasped. “Krueger, you fool.” Te Lord of Cryx spread his wings to their full span, and the wall of blackened clouds swirled. Green balefire balefi re rimmed the god-like god-li ke figure’s figure’s eyes and wafted from beneath his scales. With a titanic roar, oruk shook the very foundations of the mountains. Te dragon swept forward, and as he passed over the landscape, the needles dropped from pines and the streams boiled over. His necromantic blight blasted the soil and corrupted the air itself. Te rousing of his wayward offspring had brought the Dragonfather to the mainland for the first time in sixteen centuries. Te dragon war had returned to Immoren.

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CHAPTER 21: CONSTANCE BLAIZE terrifie d awe, Blaize watched watch ed as oruk oruk swept over the train trai n Frozen in terrified and collided mid-air with Charsaug and Ashnephos. So great was her terror she could hear nothing but the pounding of blood in her ears while the train rushed along in silence beneath her. All mortal actions around her were muted; she could see a trencher rolling on the top of the car in an attempt to extinguish the dragon fire that consumed him but could not hear his screams. Te circling forms of the dragons battling above filled her vision. Te burning trencher crawled before Blaize, and in a last effort, extended a blackened hand toward her for help before succumbing to the flames. Te choking miasma that was oruk’s blight hit the train like a wave. It was a power that was death incarnate. Along the cars, trenchers and stormsmiths stumbled about, pressing their faces into the crooks of their elbows and clutching at their weapon emplacements as they tried to remain upright. Only the warcaster and her knights were able to stand firm against the necromantic aura, their souls safeguarded by the symbols of Morrow that marked their armor. Something moved at Blaize’s feet. Te corpse of the trencher she’d watched burn to death twitched, flailing its limbs before attempting to regain its footing with jerky movements. Charred flesh sloughed off the man’s bones, and as its head turned upward, green balefire blazed where the man’s eyes had been.


“Stand fast!” Blaize shouted to the surrounding Precursor knights. She swept her weapon downward and cleaved the reanimated corpse in two. Even as the undead body toppled, another took its place. Green flame leapt from its skull and turned what remained of its uniform to ash. All along the Lady Warthun the dead were Warthunder der the rising, bidden by the Dragonfather to take up arms against the living. Rain fell from the darkened skies, and the tops of the cars were slick underfoot. Beside her, Corley bashed one of the undead with his shield and followed up with a blow from his mace that sent the abomination tumbling from the train. Blaize could hear gunshots and shouts from inside the cars, and she dreaded to think of the carnage taking place inside the confined spaces. So long as oruk soared overhead, every one of the fallen could rise in undeath to serve the dragon’s will and slaughter their former comrades. It would require more than simple prayers to preserve them from this fate. “Corley,” she said, bringing her weapon around to decapitate one of the risen, “see that those who have yet to reanimate are blessed by the power of Morrow. We need to stop as many as we can from turning. I’ll see to the defense.” defense.” “Consider it done. We will send them to find Morrow in Urcaen.” With that, Corley hung his mace from a loop at his belt and took up his leather bound tome of Prayers for Battle in in its place. “With me,” he said, motioning for a pair of his knights to follow. ogether, the three of them moved toward a corpse slung over a nearby chain gun, chanting prayers as they went. Gunfire from within the cars reached a crescendo and then died. Dozens of hands reached through shattered windows and boxcar doors and over the ledge of the roof, their bloodied palms groping for purchase. Blaize drew on her power to summon a burst of

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intense holy light into the center of the risen dead, purifying their forms and leaving nothing but ash. She waded into battle with her Sun Spear, driving them back, yet still the dead came, hauling themselves up the sides of the cars or climbing the mechanical workings of the lifts. She spun to cut the legs out from under an undead at her back and brought her shield around to bash the toppling body off the side. Anguished cries rang out on all sides, and she had barely dispatched her foe before another tore at her shield, trying to wrest it from her grasp while another sought to seize her throat. In that moment, she was painfully aware of her power field’s absence as boney fingers scraped at her exposed skin. She pushed back, skewered the enemy, and regained her stance as she faced the next unholy challenger. Near the back of the train, Haley remained crouched as she focused on lending speed to the Lady Warthunder . Te spectral versions of the warcaster struck the undead with kinetic blows and arcs of lightning. Torn stood over its master, stabbing out with its spear and beating back other risen with its shield. Te major had done a remarkable job preserving the train and hastening it onward, but her hunched posture suggested the effort couldn’t continue much longer. Blaize pulled her gaze from Haley and looked down the length of the train spanning the distance between her and the engine. Te car containing the athanc was nearly overwhelmed. Gallant and one of the Morrowan Centurions stood on either side of the cargo lift opening, and together the warjacks worked to push back the horde amassing around them. “Defend the shard!” Blaize shouted over the din. “Fall back and form ranks!” With shields raised and maces swinging, the remaining Precursor knights worked their way toward the beleaguered

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warjacks and the precious cargo. Blaize cleaved a risen down the middle and gave a last look toward Major Haley. Te grouping of undead surrounding her had thickened, but Torn and the time projections were managing to hold them back for now. She nodded and started toward the knights, forming a shield wall around the athanc’s car and saying a prayer for the major as she went.

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CHAPTER 22: LORTUS A s oruk and the eastern dragons clashed in the upper Wyrmwall, Lortus utilized the various standing stone sites throughout the region to acquire a unique perspective on the fight from a safe distance. He was able to send his vision high into the air above them, drawing on his connection to the ley lines to comprehend the impact of this unnatural battle on the lands around them. Tis was one of the greatest tools of the omnipotents, yet in this clash, he felt helpless to intervene. He was but a witness before warring gods. Upon sighting oruk, both Charsaug and Ashnephos had initially sought to flee, but despite their smaller size, they could not outrun their creator. Te three were locked in a dance of aerial maneuvers, slashing talons, and bursts of flame. Below the titanic conflict, the Cygnaran train sped on, charging toward its destination. Charsaug and Ashnephos rushed forward with gnashing teeth and claws, seemingly bent on tearing oruk’s great wings. Te exhalations of the twin dragons, while terrible when unleashed upon the world of mortals, meant nothing to oruk, and so they were reduced to the grisly art of close combat. As they clashed against oruk’s might, their claws fought to find purchase and their teeth let them taste the flesh of their origin. It was clear to Lortus that, even together, it was only a matter of time before the pair of


lesser dragons would be overwhelmed by their progenitor. In the ancient fight that had first driven oruk from the mainland, he had stood against a dozen or more, most of them greater than this pair. oruk’s tail caught Ashnephos across the middle, and the power of the blow sent the dragon crashing into a mountainside with the force of a meteorite. Stone and soil exploded outward, entire swaths of forest splintered beneath the great beast’s weight, and the tremor from the impact rolled through the roots of the mountain to the landscape beyond to initiate multiple landslides. Seeing this clash reminded Lortus of the myths of Menoth wrestling the Devourer Wurm at the dawn of creation, and how amid their battles, the oceans, mountains, canyons, and lakes were given shape. Te strike against Ashnephos left an opening for Charsaug, and the twin seized the opportunity, clamping his jaws over oruk’s throat and drawing blood. Charsaug held on as oruk thrashed, raking his claws over the larger dragon’s chest until he was eventually battered down to sheer off a mountaintop as easily as one might dash a mound of table salt to the floor. While it was a minor wound, it still stunned oruk and prevented him from pressing the advantage. How long had it been since oruk’s scaled hide had been pierced? Both twins recovered and circled, issuing roars of defiance. With a single stroke of his wings, oruk ascended above the clouds and was concealed by the roiling storm, unnatural weather summoned by his arrival. Ashnephos was quick to follow. Above the blackened canopy the battle continued. oruk’s roar was met with a rebellious bellow of rage from Ashnephos. Winged silhouettes coalesced and collapsed beyond the veil of clouds as the immortal beings made war on one another in the shadows and sizzling rain. Te dance continued for a time until Ashnephos exploded from the cloud cover with his back toward the earth, his

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wings and tail trailing behind as his body accelerated downward. Another mountainside shattered to break his fall. Te earth rippled like cloth and nearly derailed the train, which only remained on its tracks through the will of whatever mystical force aided it. Outraged at the damage inflicted upon his twin, Charsaug swept skyward, gaining altitude and heading for the realm of storm above. Lortus tensed at the futility of the dragon’s action. A massive shadow took shape above Charsaug, and when oruk broke through the black clouds, he was in a steady dive, wings tucked closely to his body to lend an added burst of speed. Te Dragonfather dropped from the sky like a stone, placing Charsaug directly in his path. His maw opened wide enough to devour a steam ship whole, and he struck his progeny hard enough to snap bones as thick as trees. oruk’s jaws clamped down on Charsaug’s throat, and together the two entered a death roll. Charsaug kicked and thrashed, raking claws over oruk as they twisted, and yet he could not pull free. oruk’s jaws clamped tighter, teeth pressing through scale, and as they neared the ground, oruk gave a twist. Te crack of vertebrae sounded out over the peaks, and the frantic roars of Charsaug the Mountain Shadow fell silent. Lortus felt a deep, primal terror well in his chest as he watched the scene unfold. Tis was how the world was to end, reshaped in oruk’s image. His eyes remained frozen as he watched the tenuous balance that had kept the dragons locked in inaction for centuries end in a matter of moments. oruk rose back toward the storm, the corpse of his adversary in his clutches, and let loose a roar of triumph before burying his muzzle deep into Charsaug’s stilled chest. Blackened draconic blood poured from the wound and glowed like magma. Te Dragonfather tossed his head back and snapped his jaws shut, swallowing Charsaug’s heartstone whole. As the stone was ingested,

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the many wounds inflicted upon oruk during the course of the short battle knitted themselves together, and the balefire wreathing his eyes and mouth flared with new intensity. Te power of the lesser dragon had returned to its creator. Lortus’ eyes were torn free from the sight only when he sensed other sources of power in the distance. He watched as other dragons glided over the peaks one by one to join Ashnephos. Tese were the dragons arrayed against oruk under the leadership of Blighterghast, each a legend in its own right, each known by a litany of names earned throughout the ages. First came Halfaug, known in the north as Old Hoarfrost, Wyrmlich, and Frostfire. Great spines lined her body, and her scales glinted silver to black as she swept over the mountains. In the early days of the Khardic Empire she warred with that great nation, melting spears and armor beneath the shimmering mirage of heat that followed her. o this day, the people of Immoren’s northern reaches speak of the battle between Halfaug and the Kossite King Jovaska Descara and the thousand soldiers that were left incinerated upon the tundra before the dragon withdrew. Scaefang the Soul Eater, Lord of the Black, followed close behind, his scales black as pitch and eyes aglow with purple flame. o the people of Rhul, he was Scylfangen, and the terror he sowed within their borders inspired a proclivity for fortified architecture. With Scaefang came other lesser-known dragons from throughout Immoren. Gjorlburn the Death Knell, Umbargoven the alon, and Horaurak of the Nine Smoking Peaks each belted out a series of earthshaking roars in announcement of their arrival. How far had they come? Lortus pondered this enigma, considering it was impossible that flight alone had brought them here so swiftly. It was as though the violence between the dragons had summoned the rest, as surely as if an omnipotent of the Circle

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Orboros had drawn on the ley lines to cross a vast distance in an instant. Indeed, Lortus sensed the echo of such powers in the trails behind each monstrous wyrm. Last came Blighterghast, the greatest of oruk’s progeny and the current champion of the wyrms. Blighterghast who was known as Seether, Old Ravager, and the Boiler of Seas. Blighterghast who had long stood vigilant in his wait for oruk’s return to the mainland, who had conspired with Krueger to seek out and destroy Everblight. And now it was Blighterghast who rallied the others for battle against the original adversary that had forced them together. Te rain hissed as it struck the dragon’s umber scales, rising off him in an eddy of steam. oruk cast down the corpse of Charsaug—blood still seething from the gaping hole in the dragon’s chest—and sounded a roar like that of a thousand horns beckoning for battle and blood. Te storm above intensified, wind and rain driving down like a hurricane. Blighterghast returned the battle cry with one of his own. His jaws spread wide to reveal the jagged peaks of innumerable fangs. Behind his roar came the voices of the other dragons. Perhaps before the death of Pyromalfic at the hands of Everblight and before Charsaug was slain by oruk, Blighterghast’s alliance might have stood a chance against their creator. But as Lortus gazed upon the dawn of apocalypse, he knew with certainty that today there was no hope. Tere was only the supremacy of oruk the Dragonfather, called by some the Eldest God of Caen.

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CHAPTER 23: VICTORIA HALEY T he Lady Warthunder was in a state of chaos, its cars on fire and overrun with the reanimated corpses of fallen Cygnarans. Haley thrust Echo forward to impale an undead trencher. With a grunt, she flung the still-clawing corpse off her blade and over the side of the train. She worked her way up the cars one at a time, fighting her way toward the car that contained the athanc shard. Blaize had gone ahead with her Precursors to defend it when the dead began to rise. Haley had remained behind to help the remaining Cygnaran troops rally against them. Te necromantic blight of the Dragonfather seemed impossible to deny, however. Haley could do nothing but watch as the unliving corpses of Cygnaran soldiers dragged down her men, who died and then rose again to join the growing throng of undead. Te last of her men now gone, she fought her way back to reunite with whatever remained of Blaize’s forces, alone except for her two shades of Past and Future and the battered Torn. Haley felt a moment of panic when she reached her destination, only to find it empty save for a few risen. o her relief, a quick inspection of the interior of the car revealed that the metal vault holding the athanc had been moved. Haley knew that the situation must have been truly grim for Blaize to chance exposing the athanc to the dragons above, no matter how preoccupied they were with their clash of fang and claw.


By the time Haley reached Blaize and the Precursors, they were moving in a box formation fighting off undead from the front and rear while they steadily marched toward the locomotive, which was also in danger of being overrun. Only Strangewayes and a pair of sentinels stood between the undead and the engine. Te question of the athanc’s location was answered when she spied the form of Skillet marching steadily backward, toward the front of the train with the athanc prison gripped tightly against its chest with its right arm. “unnel!” Strangewayes shouted. He swung his massive wrench downward and crushed the skull of an undead soldier, sending coagulated blood and flecks of bone spraying in all directions. Te sheer face of a mountainside loomed ahead of the train, the tracks vanishing within a tunnel carved into the base. Te Precursor knights pushed forward, dispatching the undead between them and the locomotive with steady swings and stout shield arms. Haley sent incorporeal Past and Future through the Precursor ranks to help clear a path to the locomotive. Yet for every undead struck down upon the roof, three more seemed to claw their way up the sides from the interior of the train. Drawing upon her connection with her past self, Haley unleashed a torrent of raw arcane force, blasting a hole through the press of the undead barring her way to Blaize. With Torn by her side, Haley made her way quickly toward her comrades. “Just you, then?” Blaize asked as Haley took her place in the beleaguered formation of knights. Haley nodded, her eyes conveying her horror and regret over the loss of life. “Well, glad to see you are still with us,” Blaize said. Haley was surprised at the rush of gratitude she felt from the genuine sympathy in Blaize’s tone. For a fleeting moment, she felt a small measure of relief from the weight of her guilt.

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With the addition of Haley’s arcane might, the group reached the front-most cars with minimal losses. After securing their position, they looked back at the rest of the train. Te Lady Warthunder was battered, flaming, and overrun with undead. It had weathered the pursuit from Orven, but only barely. Most gun emplacements were torn loose, and those that remained were too badly damaged to fire even if there were crew to man them. Likewise, the storm towers had either exploded due to critical overloads or their delicate internal mechanisms had been torn loose by the reanimated stormsmiths. “We need to uncouple the cars,” Haley said, resolute as they heard additional undead clamber up from the rear cars. “And we need to do it now, before we reach Ironhead Station.” Haley leveled her hand cannon at the risen shambling toward them and snapped off a round. “I’m going to need that Centurion,” she said, jerking her chin toward the heavy warjack painted in the colors of the church. “And some room.” “I’ll release it to you,” Blaize said, and Haley could feel her disengage her mind from its cortex. Ten the Morrowan warcaster blinked. “Oh, but the cortex lock. . .” Haley understood the problem—while she was allied to Cygnar, the Church of Morrow used its own cortex locks and would have a different mental configuration to open them. “Show me,” she said. When Blaize gave her a quizzical look, she confidently said, “Open its lock,” and put her hand against the Centurion’s chassis. Blaize frowned but complied, touching it as well. Haley could feel a complex configuration of will and energy enter the cortex within the chassis, a sequence that shimmered in Haley’s mind as a runic afterimage. “Release it again,” Haley said. When Blaize withdrew her control Haley mirrored that mental configuration back into the closing locks, which parted to let her mind take control. It was like copying a key by pressing it into soft wax. She

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could not have explained how this worked to Blaize. Instead, she only smiled and said, “Go! I’ll take it from here.” Te afterimage of that pattern was already fading from her mind. She did not actually know the mental cues used by Church of Morrow warcasters to unlock their cortexes and had only borrowed the trigger pattern. She had long possessed an aptitude for breaking through cortex locks—a result of her sensitivity to arcane energies and aptitude for integrating with mechanika. Haley quickly lowered herself into the gap separating their car from the next. A solid strike from Echo shattered the pins housed within the coupling, and the hooks rolled apart. When Haley had disconnected the cars over the Banwick, they had plummeted into the river as the bridge collapsed beneath them. Tis time, the severed cars continued to roll along behind, maintaining the majority of their momentum. Haley brought the Centurion forward and directed it to plant the tip of its spear against the side of the rear car and began to leverage the two halves of the train apart. Inch by inch, the cars separated until a gap formed as wide as the Centurion’s spear was long. Atop the other car a mass of risen had gathered, hissing their discontent at being distanced from their prey. One leapt for Haley, but its rotting hands deflected off her power field with a flash of light before it fell. With a sickening crunch of bone, the creature was sucked under the wheels of the severed cars and crushed. “I’m sorry,” Haley whispered, taking in the faces of the dead as she hauled herself back onto the top of the remaining train. She ordered the Centurion to back up, and with a running start, it hurtled over the gap and crashed into the front of the opposing car. Te ’jack’s shield arm hooked over the edge of the roof, leaving it suspended for a moment until Haley gritted her teeth and gave the mental order for the ’jack to let go.

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Te Centurion struck the wheels in a shower of sparks and a shriek of crimped metal. Te first of the severed cars leapt from the rails and rolled midair before jackknifing, taking the next car with it. Dirt and shards of metal sprayed outward, and the derailed cars broke into a sidelong roll, bouncing and flinging debris as they tumbled along the tracks. Te sound was nearly deafening as steel and iron shattered upon rock and earth. Te undead were mulched or pressed flat, leaving streaks of red that circled the exterior of the cars. Dust billowed around the tumult, and by the time the wreckage ceased its death roll it was already shrinking in the distance. Haley turned and found the eyes of the survivors upon her. Tey had lost comrades, and now there was no guarantee the bodies would be recovered. It was impossible to know what would happen to their souls, released so close to oruk. It seemed quite likely that many would be doomed to never pass to Urcaen, though perhaps the Precursors could return to do what they could. Tose killed here had been expecting quite a different fate when they boarded this transport. Again she felt guilt for bringing the athanc to Orven, but what else could they have done? Wherever it had been sent, doom would follow. A series of deep roars sounded above, and she looked up to see the clashing shadows and bursts of intense fire amid the clouds as the gathering dragons battled oruk. Te sight should have served as a reminder of the stakes and diminished her part in things, but that knowledge did not assuage the guilt she felt. She opened her mouth to say something to Blaize, but no words would come. Tey shared a harrowed look as the mountainside grew tall and the tunnel swallowed them whole.

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CHAPTER 24: NIDOBOROS

D arkness, darkness, so long have I known only darkness. How long

has it been since I last felt the power of my flesh? Of the wind against my scales and the fire burning within my breast? How long since I was confined to this prison and denied my nature? We do not feel the touch of time’s passage like lesser creatures, yet I am forced to confront it. Tere is nothing to mark the years within this oblivion, but now light has pierced the eternal void. I can feel the minds of mortals outside at last. Tat which was denied me is restored. I smell their fear, their anxiety, their. . . weakness. It calls to me as I call to them. Such sad and pathetic creatures they are and always shall be. So easily manipulated, so easily corrupted. Come to me, ephemeral things of flesh and fleeting thought! Te human whose mind calls itself Reynolds is a simple puppet, her will opening to me with just a touch. A whisper in her mind and she leaps to obey. Trough her, I shall engineer my means of escape. I shall reclaim my glorious form. My plan changes. I can feel him, my damnable creator soaring overhead. His continued existence fills me with a rage undreamed since my fall. oruk, who demanded his children bow and surrender their will to him. oruk, who hunted us one by one when we refused him. Our created glory should not be unmade! I remember the day my flesh was stripped away. I remember confronting my maker. I was the most powerful of us all, the greatest of


those spawned by oruk’s hubris. As powerful as I was, I knew oruk to be greater still. It was I who first understood that we must stand together against him. Tey believed him to be immortal and invulnerable. Our god of gods. I alone had the courage to show them, to rise with claw and fang and fire. I dealt my father a lasting blow. I paved the way for the others, and they forgot me at once, blinded by their arrogance. Ten there was the blackness of oblivion, and the world was hidden to me. I see my example was not enough. Tey did not best him and instead only delayed the inevitable. All these lost years, and they have learned nothing. I can feel him growing stronger. Tey fight him, but they will lose. Tey are weaker now than then. Fewer. Even if I were freed from this prison now, it would take years to regain my form and strength. It is too late. oruk will have his victory. And yet, Blighterghast nears. He is their champion now, but he is not enough. Not yet. My hatred is strong, greater than before, magnified by the endless darkness into which I have been cast. And I will return to it if that is what is required to bring an end to oruk. I will find a way. I will bend and break these inferior creatures and make them do my bidding. oruk will fall.

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CHAPTER 25: LORTUS T he clash between the dragon alliance and oruk drifted across the Wyrmwall, and Lortus followed. In a flash of lightning, he stood within an ancient standing stone site located in the peaks above the Rhulic settlement of Ironhead Enclave, the largest single concentration of Rhulfolk beyond the borders of their homeland to the north. Here, above the tiered fortifications nestled in the mountains, the dragons had arrived to see their battle to its conclusion. Upon sighting oruk and the other dragons, Lortus had sent word for reinforcements, and those blackclads who obeyed him had arrived in ones and twos, appearing with their own echoing thunder. wo dozen druids stood among the nearby trees or knelt along the ledge overlooking the enclave. Tey waited restlessly, and now and then one of them would look to Lortus as if expecting some direction, but the omnipotent gave none. In a war among dragons, the Circle Orboros had little opportunity for direct influence. When they acted, the moment had to be carefully chosen to mitigate the harm the Stormlord had already brought. He had watched the train carrying the disembodied athanc disappear under the mountain. It was headed to Ironhead Station. Te loose shard was one of the few pieces of the conflict that could be acted upon, and he would seize the opportunity if one presented itself. Tey had to keep that shard from the dragons somehow.


Lortus was considering whether his power would allow him to banish it far from here. Doing so would be a great peril—the ley line network could shatter entirely in its current weakened state. Above all, he did not wish for oruk to gain any more power. Te scales balancing the Dragonfather against his progeny were already tipping, and upsetting the fate of Caen as well. Te storm heralding oruk’s arrival had not abated. If anything, it had intensified. Wind and rain buffeted the cloaks of Lortus and the other druids. Streaks of lightning split the sky and lashed the peaks, sending bits of shattered rock cascading down the slopes. Beneath the concentrated blight of the dragons, the mountains and crags had become a nightmare landscape lined with blighted trees and long shadows. It was a perfect vision of the apocalypse, Lortus thought wryly. Whereas the battle between oruk and the twins of Erdross had been a desperate brawl, the current conflict was one of coordinated maneuvers and hit-and-run tactics. Individually, none of the gathered dragons could stand against oruk, but through strength of numbers and coordinated maneuvers they sought to evade destruction and grind down their creator. Gjorlburn and Umbargoven streaked past oruk at eye level, prompting the Dragonfather to expel a blaze of balefire that licked at their hides. At the same moment, Halfaug swooped in to slash her claws across oruk’s back before darting out of reach. Ashnephos and Scaefang likewise made passing strikes at oruk’s wings in the hopes of hindering the eldest dragon’s movement. Horaurak, injured during the opening moments of the battle, hovered at the edges of the fight, a series of wide gashes running across his chest where oruk had caught the dragon with his claws. All of the challengers proceeded with caution. Amid their number, only Blighterghast proved the exception.

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For sixteen centuries, Blighterghast had held vigil from the Wyrmwall and patrolled the Broken Coast, determined to confront oruk should he venture to the mainland once more. Now, he was attacking with an aggression beyond any of his siblings. Again and again he barreled into oruk, exchanging blows and vicious bites. Lortus had spent many decades watching Blighterghast but had never seen the dragon fully unleashed. It was terrifying and awesome to behold. Blighterghast would not back down. It was by his will that the dragon alliance had held. And it was now he who directed this terrifying battle against a superior foe. Perhaps his time watching Cryx and brooding on oruk had not been wasted, for he seemed to know and anticipate the movements of the Dragonfather, guiding the others in their impossible dance. oruk caught Umbargoven with a sweep of his tail and sent the lesser dragon tumbling downward, crashing through the walls and structures of the dwarven settlement. Umbargoven stood, shook the dust from his wings, and launched skyward once more, leaving a ruinous crater behind. Te pattern of the circling dragons had been thrown off balance and became erratic. Alarm bells had sounded ever since the dragon clash had moved within sight of the enclave. Lortus could see hundreds of armored Rhulfolk moving along the battlements, but so far, the settlement’s cannons had remained silent. Even if the population avoided provoking the dragons above, Lortus did not give them high hopes for survival. Structural damage alone would undoubtedly prove catastrophic. Lortus was informed the train had reached its tunnel with its cargo still in tow, a temporary respite. Whatever the outcome of this clash between oruk and his progeny, the victor would undoubtedly seek the disembodied athanc beneath the city’s crust. He ordered one of his subordinates to keep watch over the train

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tracks leading east. If the train limped its way toward its next destination, he would do everything he could to claim the shard and banish it far from here, and then figure out their next move. It was a hopeless goal, but it was all he had.

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CHAPTER 26: VICTORIA HALEY W hat remained of the Lady Warthunder followed the rails ever downward, burrowing through mile after mile of stone as it plunged into the depths. Te light of the outside world grew dim. Behind them, the entrance to the tunnel was marked by nothing more than a circle of waning illumination. Periodically, the lanterns along the tunnel walls interrupted the enveloping darkness. Tey rushed along with nothing but the sound of the locomotive’s wheels on the rails to break the silence. Haley had collapsed from exhaustion. Te mental drain from willing the train forward and the ache that pervaded her muscles had caught up with her in the dark. She closed her eyes and breathed deep, grateful that they had reached safety—at least for the time being. Long minutes dragged on, and in her tired state she wondered if their descent under the mountain wasn’t endless. Perhaps she and all those aboard the Lady Warthunder had perished and now rode the train through an endless sleep. Perhaps she was now among the risen dead, or maybe she was travelling on some phantom train in Urcaen. A light began to grow ahead of the train, its illumination greater than the feeble lanterns. As the rails continued along their curving trajectory, the pinprick of light grew, expanding rapidly. Te Lady Warthunder had passed into the enormous gas-lit cavern that housed Ironhead Station.


Struts erected from the depths of the cavern held the tracks aloft, and the train seemed to be gliding for a time through the open air. Scaffolding and iron foot walks intersected at regular intervals, and buildings of all description perched both above and below, their structures anchored to the cavern walls. Complex configurations of gears and pulleys raised and lowered numerous grillwork platforms while all around them the sounds of industry drifted along the many tunnels in the towering stonewalls and echoed across the constantly rearranging station. Te train pulled into a platform supported by thick, steel girders, giving a last gasp of steam as it ground to a halt. Te platform buzzed with activity. Men and women hurried to anchor walkways in place and deactivate machinery. An impact shook the complex, and stone and dust filtered down from the roof of the cavern. “Looks like they’re locking everything up tight for the battle,” Haley said, as she and Blaize stepped from the train. Another impact loosed a chuck of stone from the ceiling and smashed through a steel catwalk before plummeting into the dark. Blaize looked ominously above. “It won’t matter a bit if the entire mountain comes crashing down on our heads.” Haley eyed the ceiling warily but said nothing.

Haley stood behind Strangewayes and watched him examine the damaged field generator mounted to the cube. Te many pipes running along the device were dented and ruptured. Te last of their steam had vented into the open air long before they’d reached Ironhead Station. Te arcane turbine had taken the brunt of the damage, and the precious metals that formed the device were twisted beyond recognition. Strangewayes tilted his head this way and that, making

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disgruntled noises in his throat. “Tis is the problem with being the best damn mechanik in the army. You work miracles to make something and then, when some jackanape goes and breaks it, people expect you to just fix it all again.” “But can you fix it?” Haley asked. Strangewayes shot her a look. “I just said I was the best damn mechanik in the whole army. I can fix it with the proper parts.” Strangewayes quietly added, “Maybe.” A smoking pipe smoldered between his teeth. “We’ll need to ask around and see what type of materials are on hand. Could be I could make use of the spare parts for some of the industrial equipment used in mining, but the replacement will certainly be larger. Tere’s only so much that can be done without another arcane turbine, and I speak with certainty when I say we will find nothing of the sort here. How did this happen anyway? You said the field failed before we left Orven?” “Sabotaged,” Chaplain Corley said. “Sabotaged?” Strangewayes echoed, “By whom?” Before the chaplain could answer, the scraping sound of metal on metal stole everyone’s attention. Tere was a scream of rage, and Reynolds, the junior mechanik that had accompanied Blaize and her crew on the Banwick, was rushing at them from further down the platform, having evidently emerged from beneath the train. Her mouth was opened wide in the midst of her scream, and her eyes had taken on a black tint. As she ran, she dragged a length of pipe behind her, the end throwing up the occasional spark as she closed the distance. “Look out!” Haley called. She readied a spell, but not fast enough. Te mechanik brought the pipe across the face of a Precursor knight, shattering the man’s nose with a sickening crunch. In the next instant, the surrounding knights seized the mechanik and pried the pipe from her hands. She kicked and

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snapped at them, trying to tear their throats open with her teeth. Haley recalled how the woman had looked on their hike to Orven, her health impacted by the leaking blighted energies, but that was nothing compared to this. Her skin had gone ashen, and a number of spines had protruded along her arms. Ordinarily, such blighted changes would take considerable time, but direct exposure to dragon blood had accelerated the transformation. One look into the mechanik’s eyes told Haley her mind and body were not her own. When she stopped struggling, the mechanik looked not to her captors but to the metal cube, the black orbs of her eyes focused on its surfaces. “Well, that answers the who,” Strangewayes said as the commotion died down. “What’s wrong with her?” “I’d say the athanc has changed her mind,” Blaize said, stepping forward to examine the young woman. “She’s not herself anymore. We don’t know exactly how this sort of thing works, but many times, those who are blighted see their personalities and even loyalties change.” “’Can you heal her of this?” Haley asked, looking to both Blaize and Corley. “No,” Blaize said. “Tis is not something as simple as a sickness or a wound. It might have affected her very soul. Barring a miracle from Morrow, the best we could hope for would be to take her far from the source of blight and give her time. She’ll likely never be the same.” Te ceiling of the cavern shook, and flecks of debris dusted the platform. Somewhere above, a dragon let out a roar, and the stone tunnels carried the distorted sound down to them, echoing along the cavern walls. Te fight between dragons was going strong. “Ten we should destroy it,” Strangewayes said, tapping ash from his pipe. “We destroy the athanc. Given the choice between

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rebuilding a field that might not work and getting rid of the thing, I’d say the choice is clear.” “If only it were that easy,” Blaize said. “No one knows how to destroy a dragon heartstone. o my knowledge, it has never been done. Sealing them away doesn’t seem to work either, not that there have been many chances. I’d guess this one was locked away for the longest period anyone has ever managed.” Reynolds interrupted their conversation with a string of unintelligible words. Her lips flittered and smacked, and her eyes were now fixed on the cavern ceiling rather than the cube. She spoke with a guttural quality, and the knights holding her arms exchanged concerned looks. “Well, if we can’t destroy the dragon, I say we fix the containment field, take it deep into the mines, and bury it.” Strangewayes’ words received several nods of agreement. Te blighted mechanik started uttering her strange words more rapidly, and strained against those holding her. It seemed to Haley that the mechanik’s actions were not random but tied to their words. It was as if the athanc were listening and responding through Reynolds, akin to how Haley could act through a warjack. “We can’t,” Haley said, enunciating her words slowly as she formed her thoughts. “Even if we build a new field and bury it deep, warn everyone away, someone will inevitably stumble across it. Seems it might reach out with its own mind, and could lure someone down. Besides, regardless of who wins in this scrap between oruk and the other dragons, the victor is going to come looking for the heartstone. And can a mountain stop a dragon?” Strangewayes slumped against the Lady Warthunder , arms crossed over his chest. “What then? We can’t just leave it or her like this. I think we can all agree on that,” he said, gesturing to the corrupted junior mechanik.

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Haley moved toward the junior mechanik as her ranting reached new heights. While she could not understand the words, she could feel the emotion behind them. Tere was rage, but it was about something other than the dragon’s imprisonment. She watched as the mechanik’s eyes wandered over the ceiling, and when a particularly loud roar was unleashed above, the young woman spoke the words with more conviction. Haley’s thoughts drifted back to when she’d first touched the cube, and to the series of visions the brief contact had projected into her mind—a sequence of images stretching through time, following the fate of the heartstone. Te name Nidoboros came to her. She had watched that dragon clash with oruk alone, without hope. It was a champion of its kind. In its selfless act, the dragon had lost its body but wounded oruk, giving its brethren reason to unite against him. Spittle flew from the possessed mechanik’s lips, and Haley wondered for whom the angry words were meant. “oruk,” Haley muttered. At the word, the mechanik stopped ranting and glared at her directly, scowling. It was an unmistakable reaction to the name. Haley turned from the mechanik to the cube, holding her gauntleted hand to the prison’s surface before pressing her palm flat against it again. Te response was hostile and immediate. Tis time, rather than being bombarded by a string of visions, Haley felt another consciousness come forward to wrestle with her own, catching her off guard with its assault. Natural arcane talent and the years she spent in service as a warcaster had strengthened her mind; each guided strike from a warjack and every spell she had cast had developed and exercised her mental powers. Her recent experiences had only further strengthened her will, and with this mental fortitude, she held the entity at bay. Haley’s mind became locked in a struggle with a dragon’s alien will, each grappling for dominance.

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Slowing her breath, Haley called forth a surge of memories from distant battlefields. In them she battled through countless thralls, cleaving their decaying bodies with Echo and unleashing spell after blistering spell upon the ranks of the dead. A bile thrall ruptured and washed a line of trenchers with its acidic insides. Warjacks painted in the Cygnaran blue and gold thundered across the battlefield under Haley’s command to collide with necrotite-fueled helljacks. In another memory, she split her sister Deneghra in two and watched the halves of her body topple to the ground. Another memory was stained with the blood of her parents as Cryxian raiders slew her family. Haley had spent a lifetime defending Cygnar’s borders against the horrors birthed from the Scharde Islands, all with their origins in oruk the Dragonfather. She drew upon those nightmares now, channeling them through the strained connection she shared with the imprisoned athanc. Te dragon’s efforts to take possession of her mind wavered, and she took the opportunity to project a single strong thought, hoping it would get through. OUR AIMS ARE

NO SO DIFFEREN—WE SHARE A COMMON FOE. Te dragon’s consciousness withdrew, leaving her to her thoughts, but a thread of connection remained. She leaned against the side of the cube, her breathing labored. Blaize stepped forward, but Haley waved her away. She had taken considerable risk making contact with the athanc, and now that she had established a connection, she did not intend to lose it. She slowed her breathing once more and closed her eyes. Te mind of Nidoboros was wholly alien, the depths of his consciousness an impossible labyrinth. Haley had to retain control. If she entangled herself too tightly amid that ancient and unknowable entity, she would be lost. A long silence filled the space between them, and she could almost feel the dragon

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thinking. Words emerged from the many faceted chambers of the dragon’s mind, but they were in a forgotten language unknown to Haley. Tey brought a scrambled series of images, perhaps meant to translate their meaning. alons and green flame danced behind Haley’s eyes as she relived the ancient clash against oruk, the dragon’s memory conveying hatred and blind determination. Nidoboros tore into oruk’s flesh, releasing rivers of blighted blood, but then the dragon champion was struck down. Te vision changed. Rather than being consumed by darkness, Haley watched as the body of Nidoboros collapsed inward, withering into a shifting cloud of ash for a time until it condensed to form the body of another. Te newly formed dragon shook the soot from its scales and revealed itself as Blighterghast. Risen from the ashes, Blighterghast seemed not just reinvigorated, but changed. Te fighting prowess of the champion lived on in another. Haley knew that she looked not at a past event, but at a possible future, one that must come to pass. Haley removed her hand from the cold steel of the athanc prison and looked at each of her allies in turn. “I know how we can stop oruk. We need to free the dragon athanc from the cube.” “What? Why?” Blaize gasped, taken aback. “We’re going to give the athanc to Blighterghast.” Her eyes were bright with the vision of the dragon champions of past and future united as one to stop the Dragonfather. oruk’s shadow would no longer cover Immoren like a burial shroud.

With Haley and Blaize at the forefront, the column of Precursor knights and warjacks navigated the main tunnel, which spanned from Ironhead Station to Ironhead Enclave. Skillet, carrying the athanc prison, brought up the rear with the other ’jacks alongside it.

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“Te dwarven enclave will give us access to the surface,” Haley said. “Shouldn’t be far.” “What then?” Blaize asked. “In all honesty, I don’t know,” Haley said. “I’m figuring this out as I go.” Te tunnel widened and gave way to a small cavern at the center of several intersecting tunnels. Te stone had been reworked, shaped to be more appealing to the eye, and portions of the upper walls had been carved away to create a broad mezzanine that encircled the space. At the ground level and above, a number of stalls had been erected. Although the room appeared to have been abandoned in light of the battle above, the eclectic nature of the stalls showed that both Rhulic and Cygnaran merchants had shared the space, possibly using the cavern as a midpoint for trade between Ironhead Station and Ironhead Enclave. It was clear this cavern had served as some kind of bazaar. “We must be close,” Haley said. She started for the opposing tunnel when a blur of movement on the upper level caught her eye. She pivoted toward the source with Echo at the ready. “Eyes up!” Blaize called. On the opposite side of the chamber, something else dashed across the mezzanine, and again it was too fast for Haley to focus on it. Te remainder of the Precursor knights filed in, and the roar of the warjacks’ engines reverberated off the walls. A burst of activity signaled the assault, and the blighted Nyss warlocks from the river leapt from the ledges and into the midst of the gathered Precursor knights. Runes flared around the spear wielder’s wrist, and a shimmer of air cut through a knight. At the same moment, the warlock with the long sword decapitated one soldier and continued her bloodshed with a sidelong roll that allowed her to cut the legs from under another. Blood splashed over the stone and spattered the empty market stalls.

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Haley summoned Past and Future into being, but this time the twins were prepared to face the time projections. A razor-sharp gust of wind cleaved through Future the moment she materialized, and the sword-wielding Nyss took down Past with a flurry of sword strikes too quick to be countered. Te rune-empowered blade proved capable of dispersing Past’s incorporeal form. Blaize and Corley charged headlong at the sword-wielding warlock, determined to prevent the loss of any more knights, and Haley squared off against the other. Spears collided, parted, and collided again, the two wielders stepping forward and back as they took and gave ground. Anger flashed across the warlock’s face, and she surged forward with such tenacity that Haley was forced to backpedal under the onslaught. She had to rely on instinct to bring Echo into contact with the opposing spear time and again. Haley had never considered herself to be masterful in melee combat—her strengths were elsewhere—but she had enough training and hard won experience to be quite skilled when fighting on the defensive. Despite the viciousness of the warlock’s attack, Haley realized that it was not an attack typically made by a martially superior foe. Rather it was a last-ditch, all-or-nothing effort from a desperate individual. Still deflecting the thrusts of the warlock’s spear, Haley glanced around the bazaar and noted the lack of dragonspawn. Haley knew enough about wilderness warlocks to know they relied on their beasts, drawing mystical power and vitality from them. Just as Blaize’s lack of an arcane turbine had left her vulnerable, the absence of dragonspawn did the same for these twins. With this fact in mind, Haley baited her opponent forward, working to deflect attacks while offering none of her own in return. Instead, she focused her will on strengthening the power field generated by her arcane turbine. She was fighting purely defensively.

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Te warlock’s attacks came in a flurry, driving Haley back and forcing her to give ground at a steady pace. Te occasional strike met Haley’s power field, prompting a spark of blue energy before being thrown harmlessly aside. Tey crossed the bazaar at a clip, their footwork as fast as their spears. Once Haley’s back was against a wall, she made her move. rusting her power field to turn aside the warlock’s spear, Haley launched into a sudden barrage of thrusts that caught the Nyss off guard and put her on her heels. Echo snapped forward, batting the Nyss’ spear to the side or harmlessly to the floor before scoring hit after hit. Haley focused on speed rather than power—the cuts were light and superficial, meant to wound rather than kill. Te flow of the fight reversed, and the pair treaded the same ground in the opposite direction. Echo clipped the warlock’s shoulder, turning her about, and in the next instant, Haley swept Echo in a sidelong arc that knocked the Nyss from her feet. She hit the ground with force, and when she rolled to face Haley, the warcaster leveled Echo’s point to her chest. Haley’s boot followed, further pinning her opponent. “Not another move,” Haley said, speaking more to the sword wielding Nyss than the one beneath her boot. She looked to where Blaize and Corley stood facing the other warlock. Te three of them were motionless, staring intently at the place where Echo met the Nyss’ sternum. Now that the fighting was through, Haley took in the damage that had been done. Six Precursor knights lay in pieces on the stone floor, blood pooling around their maimed bodies. Her anger flared, and she fought the urge to drive Echo into the Nyss’ chest. Te only thing stopping her hand was the knowledge that this Nyss could be used as leverage against her fearsome companion. Had Blaize had access to her own power field, the situation could have been

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less perilous, but Haley did not intend to risk losing the Morrowan warcaster. “ell your companion to lower her weapon,” Haley hissed, pressing Echo’s point harder into the Nyss’ exposed flesh and drawing a small drop of blood. She did not know if they spoke Cygnaran, so she made sure her intent was clear. Without a word, the other Nyss slowly lowered her weapon, but she did not relax her grip. “Why do you hesitate, Cygnaran?” the beaten Nyss hissed, speaking the language well, though with a striking accent. Haley was surprised to realize it wasn’t just the threat of the other warlock; she wasn’t actually sure herself what had which stayed her hand. She was not entirely certain how best to defuse the situation. Cautiously, she drew back Echo. “Haley,” Blaize asked, “what are you doing?” Her own weapon was still angled toward the other warlock, prepared to make the killing move. Haley did not answer. Instead she entered the meditative state, revealing the golden threads of light emanating from everyone within the room—the strands of choice and fate. She was startled to note that every thread converged on the warlock before her, and then continued beyond her as a single stronger cord. Somehow this strange, violent, and blighted creature bound all their fates together. Haley concentrated to follow the single conjoined line that represented their most likely shared future. Haley’s breath caught in her throat as she realized where the thread led. “You. You are the key to avoiding the catastrophe bearing down upon us.” Haley extended her free hand toward the Nyss at her feet. “Major,” Blaize said, concern evident in her voice, “do you know what you are doing?”

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Te Nyss accepted the hand and pulled herself to her feet. In a flash, the Nyss seized the opportunity of Haley’s distraction to attack. As she pulled back her spear with a snarl, Haley leaned toward her. She reached out with the same hand that she had used to help her foe stand and placed it against her chest, and a white flash engulfed her vision.

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CHAPTER 27: SAERYN One

minute Saeryn had been moving to strike the warcaster, and the next, her mind was reeling as it was invaded by a host of images. It was a familiar sensation—similar to when Everblight would fuse his thoughts with hers, yet she knew at once he was not responsible for this. Te chamber’s stone walls fell away, and rolling fields of spoiled earth spread in every direction. A dusting of ash coated her shoulders as it drifted down from a scorched sky. Everywhere she looked, the shambling forms of undead moved in random, listless patterns, seeking anything with life to slay. Te world seemed as cold and dead as these thralls. Now and then a burst of green fire backlit the darkened cloud cover. Saeryn reached out for Everblight’s mind and encountered a void. She tried to commune with her fellow warlocks only to meet the same hollow result. She patted at her chest, and her fingers came away warm and red. Her athanc shard, that which had given her so much power and strength, was gone. In its place was a bloodied hole, and her skin was now cold. Although she could feel no pain, she wept for the loss. Somehow she knew that she had lost much more than this. Everblight had been eradicated, erased from the world along with everything else. She could feel his absence in her bones. A strong wind kicked up a thick layer of ash into swirling clouds that blinded her for a moment. When they settled at last, Saeryn


saw a body nestled in the blanket of black and grey that covered the ground. Rhyas. Her hands were laced over the massive wound in her chest where the athanc shard had once been housed, the gore destroying any illusion that she might only be sleeping amid the charred remains of the world. Saeryn went to her sister’s side and slumped to her knees, feeling a vast, cold emptiness. A draconic roar filled her ears, and the scaled enormity of oruk, Lord of Caen, could be seen descending from the sky. A storm of green balefire raged as the dragon filled her vision and eclipsed all. Te god of the dead surveyed his blasted and darkened domain. As oruk descended upon her, he opened his mouth to let loose a tide of fire that stripped her flesh from the bone. Saeryn crumbled, and her screaming soul joined the ashes in the wind. Te world went black.

Saeryn’s eyes fluttered open, and for a moment she knew not when or where she was. Te stone chamber reformed around her, and she was staring into Haley’s eyes. Her spear was still in her hand, but had not struck her foe. “What trick was that?” Saeryn asked. ”What did you show me?” Te vision had been powerful and convincing, as real as the few Saeryn had experienced before, like the presentiment of the coming of Tagrosh, Prophet of Everblight. “No trick. A vision of the future,” Haley replied. “Your future.” Te warcaster withdrew her hand from Saeryn’s chest. “It is what shall come to pass if oruk succeeds here today in the battle above.” Everblight’s thoughts flooded into Saeryn’s mind. Despite their link through her athanc shard, it was clear he had not shared the visions the human warcaster had shared with her. END HER. SEIZE HE SHARD. It was a clear command.

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Normally, Saeryn would not have hesitated to obey, but the images Haley had shown her filled her mind. Her hand did not move. Rhyas’ expression was stern. She waited for Saeryn to lead as she always did. Her blade was poised to strike at Blaize and Corley, ready to end their duel. Saeryn had no doubt Rhyas could swiftly defeat them both. “Te vision,” Saeryn said, speaking slowly, “Why should I believe it?” “If I didn’t believe it with all my being, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. You’d be dead, and your companion would shortly follow,” Haley said flatly. Saeryn lightly pursed her lips, her doubt briefly showing. She wasn’t convinced that such an outcome was within the warcaster’s power. Still, there was no mistaking that Haley had surrendered her advantage, preferring words to action. “Listen to me. Te simple fact is there is only one way for any of us to survive and for this world to endure. You must help me bring the athanc to Blighterghast.” At the warcaster’s declaration, Everblight’s fury erupted inside of Saeryn’s mind. Every fiber of the dragon’s being demanded Haley’s extinction. Saeryn’s temples throbbed, and she clenched her fists as she fought Everblight’s command. She needed a moment of clarity so she might better evaluate the situation and reason with her enraged master. Sensing Saeryn’s resistance, Everblight’s gaze shifted to Rhyas. At the dragon’s command, Rhyas burst into motion to advance on Haley, ignoring the two others near her. She dropped her blade to her side, preparing for the upward diagonal slash that would sever the warcaster’s head from her shoulders. Te blade rose, and before she could consider the consequences of her actions, Saeryn gathered her sorcerous power and willed herself to swap places with her twin. Shadow surrounded the pair,

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and when the darkness abated, it was Saeryn who stood beside Haley. Rhyas rushed past, facing the wrong direction, before pulling up short and turning in startled confusion. In the next instant Saeryn triggered a safeguard she had held in secret since her earliest days, since she had first become a warlock of Everblight. She focused her will into a sharpened blade and severed her mind and her sister’s from Everblight. As a rift opened between the twins and their master, Saeryn knew she had embarked on an unalterable course. She believed the warcaster—they faced destruction. o save herself and Rhyas and Everblight himself, she had defied the dragon in a way that none of his other servants could. Te dragon thought his control was absolute, and she had just demonstrated otherwise. She had gone rogue. Neither Everblight nor her fellow warlocks were likely to turn a blind eye to the act. As Rhyas turned, she raised her sword to renew the attack, but her movements were slowed by her confusion. “Wait, sister!” Saeryn raised a hand. “You must lower your blade. Everblight is wrong, and we must not obey him.” Rhyas stared in mute shock at her sister, uncertainty filling in her eyes. Tough she did not lower Antiphon, she made no move to strike either. It was in that moment that Saeryn knew her twin would follow her lead as she always had. “Very well,” Saeryn said to Haley. She knew she had taken a gamble beyond any other in their lives, yet it felt right. Her own certainty flowed across her connection to her twin, calming her. Rhyas did not yet understand the enormity and irreversibility of what they had done. “We are listening. ell me how you plan to change our fate.”

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CHAPTER 28: LORTUS Since the fall of Charsaug, there had been no further casualties, but the remaining members of the dragon alliance were suffering— their wounds were slowing their every move. Initially Lortus had thought Blighterghast’s masterful orchestration might actually prevail, but now oruk had the upper hand. With growing dread, he realized it would likely stay that way. Every moment that passed, oruk seemed stronger, while the alliance weakened. Blighterghast had sustained the brunt of the injuries inflicted by oruk. Deep gashes spanned one side of his body, and shards of bone pierced his insides as they shifted unpredictably. Balefire had warped the dragon’s scales and shriveled his flesh despite Blighterghast’s natural resistance to flame. His wings, too, had suffered expansive cuts that limited his maneuverability. Te dragon’s left eye was left a crater after a particularly horrific clash, so he had to limit his angle of approach in order to compensate for the partial loss of sight. oruk was far from unscathed, but the Dragonfather’s inner balefire continued to burn bright. He seemed to draw strength from every injury he inflicted on his progeny, as if siphoning their bleeding essence to restore his own. Each time the opposing dragons crashed in upon him he beat them back. And each time they retreated, they endured additional gashes and shattered bones. Blighterghast unleashed a great roar, black ichor trailing from his


mouth, and with Ashnephos and Scaefang, he led another faltering charge. Te three barreled into the Dragonfather, and Blighterghast went for the throat while the others sought their creator’s wings. eeth and claw found flesh, and all involved wept draconic blood, which mixed with the steady fall of rain to fall sizzling like acid to the earth below. oruk’s tail caught Scaefang and threw him aside. A swipe of claws opened Ashnephos’ thigh and sent the dragon circling at a wary distance. Jaws snapped and repositioned in the space between oruk and Blighterghast even as the pair raked at one another with their claws. Te two parted, each bearing fresh wounds, only this time—to Lortus’ horror—oruk changed his tactics and gave chase. Green balefire erupted from the Dragonfather’s maw, and even Lortus, who was far below, could feel its heat. It blistered Blighterghast’s body as it consumed him, shriveling the membrane of his wings and causing earlier wounds to peel back as flesh melted away. Lortus watched as oruk effortlessly caught up to his greatest progeny. Te two collided, twisting mid-air, and together plummeted downward, biting and scratching as they vied for control. In the final moments before impact, oruk bit deep into Blighterghast’s neck, his razor teeth piercing scale and flesh. Te dwarven enclave rushed up to meet them, and oruk tore loose a portion of Blighterghast’s throat before pulling free of the entanglement. Blighterghast hit the cobbled streets of the dwarven enclave with explosive force. Te enclave had been burrowed into the mountain in a series of layers and tunnels honeycombed throughout the stone, and the weight and velocity of Blighterghast saw him smash through layer after layer of Rhulic architecture. As the layers were crushed, a series of vibrations followed that toppled buildings and sent jagged cracks snaking along streets. A smoking crater ringed with balefire

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descended a hundred feet or more into the lower levels of the enclave. With a thought, Lortus teleported to a peak overlooking the enclave. Te growing sense of dread inside him had overpowered his sense of self-preservation. Despite the danger, he looked down into the makeshift grave and saw Blighterghast bloody and broken. Te dragon’s strength was leaving his body as his blood flowed freely from his throat. Lortus’ heart fell within his chest. Tis was a blow from which the dragon alliance could never recover. Above, oruk let loose a rending cry of exultation and soared skyward to meet the rest of his doomed progeny. “Krueger, you fool,” Lortus whispered to himself as he looked back toward the dying Blighterghast. “You’ve killed us all.”

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CHAPTER 29: VICTORIA HALEY Upon

reaching the dwarven enclave, Haley had anticipated questions from the local garrison about the large metal cube that Skillet carried and the pair of obviously blighted Nyss who traveled with them; however, the few Rhulic guards they met had waved them through without comment, clearly too in shock by the unfolding events to question or notice anything beyond Haley’s golden rank insignia. She had learned from one of these addled guardsmen that the majority of the enclave defenders had been relocated to the upper levels to do what they could, should the dragons’ attention turn toward the settlement. When they left the tunnels spanning between Ironhead Station and the enclave, the atmosphere changed significantly. Like the bazaar, each chamber of the enclave was carved from the stone. Te pillars and tiers were decorated with statues of Rhulic figures of old. It would be easy to imagine they were no longer in Cygnar at all, so different was this community. Te Rhulfolk of Ironhead Enclave did not turn to hide. Every citizen, regardless of profession, was busy with preparations for the defense. Hammers and firearms were distributed, fires were stoked, and armor was donned. As Haley and the others continued toward the surface, they followed the throngs of dwarves hauling munitions for artillery and buckets of water to fight the flames. Te entirety of the population bustled with the urgency of war.


Some great impact shook the region, throwing several dwarves to the ground. Haley gripped a support beam to keep her footing. Te supports creaked under the strain, and a deafening crash came from behind as an avalanche of stone filled the previous chamber. Tere was a tense silence as everyone in the tunnel held their breath in anticipation of being buried alive. After several moments of panic, those who had been knocked down stood and carried on with their tasks. It was a testament to the quality of local engineering that the collapse was not more widespread. “What was that?” Blaize asked. Te warcaster had cut her brow in the commotion, and a trickle of blood ran into her eye, but she paid the wound no mind. “I don’t know,” Haley said. She entered a meditative state and forced herself to look at the darkness in the time streams that surrounded them. It had grown darker and larger as they neared this place. She felt certain it was connected directly to the clash of dragons, their power and blight being great enough to change the fates of all. Even underground she was aware of the darkness’ allencompassing presence. And after the latest impact, the presence seemed greater still. It was as though it had become solid and thick, whereas before it had been shadow and smoke. Te eye of the storm had shrunk and was now nothing more than a flickering flame in an endless expanse of night. She could follow the threads protruding from the chests of those around her no more than a few feet before losing sight of them. ime was short, and at the center of the fading light was the athanc prison and Saeryn. Teir only hope rested with an ancient and unpredictable entity. “You sense something,” Saeryn said. “You feel a change.” Haley nodded. “Our chance to alter the future is slipping. We must hurry.” “Perhaps we should remove the athanc,” Saeryn said. “We can

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cover more ground without waiting for your machine.” “No,” Haley said. “Not until we have to. I won’t expose the enclave to more blight than absolutely necessary.” Saeryn and Rhyas exchanged a look. Clearly, Rhyas felt no empathy for the dwarves, but she did not argue. ogether the party continued upward. Te closer to the surface they got, the more the dread within Haley grew. She worried they were too late.

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CHAPTER 30: SAERYN T he battle between dragons was ongoing when the group breeched the surface amid the enclave streets. Saeryn shielded her eyes from the driving rain with the hood of her hand and examined the darting forms of the dragons above. She could still feel Everblight within her—a sense of presence within the athanc that empowered her—but the mental wall she had built around his thoughts also prevented her from accessing his knowledge. And so, she could not identify each dragon with the ease she might once have. Still, she recalled enough to piece together the general course of the epic clash. oruk was unmistakable, a massive form of black scales and green flame, his wings filling the sky. As she looked upon the other great dragons, she realized there was a very notable absence. “Which of them is Blighterghast?” Haley asked. Saeryn made a non-committal sound and continued to scan the sky. “I do not see him.” “Look again.” “I’m sure. He has fled or been killed. He is not there.” “Impossible.” Haley clenched her fists and looked to the sky. Saeryn glared at Haley for a moment, wondering if she’d been wrong to spare the warcaster from Rhyas. She took a deep breath and calmed her mind, letting her eyes focus on the blighted energies flowing around her with great intensity. Her magic was rooted in the blight and drawn from the athanc shard in her chest. With a


bit of effort, she could perceive such energies here in their natural tapestry. Te sky was awash with colors that were not colors, each a slightly different hue. Te shedding of draconic blood in such a quantity had left countless ripples of blighted distortion. Te battle was like a dance of bleeding suns orbiting a swirling maelstrom of darkness that was oruk. Saeryn looked over the nearest mountains and the battered enclave. She saw a powerful haze of blighted energy that curtained the air above the settlement. Even through the stones of the nearest buildings, the waves of blighted radiance came. Tey seemed to be fading as she watched. “Tere,” Saeryn said, “Beyond these buildings.” “Still alive?” Haley asked. “Yes, but weakened. He would move if he could. oruk did not devour him, but he will come soon.” She looked upward to where the Dragonfather was clearly occupied by the others, though their movements seemed desperate and frantic. “Let’s make sure we get there first!” Haley said. She sprinted onward with her pair of warjacks following close behind. Saeryn’s fingers gave a twitch at her side as she resisted the urge to hurl a spell at the Cygnaran’s back. Only the vision of Everblight’s destruction and the reign of oruk stilled her hand. It appeared she needed the warcaster, at least for the time being. Circumstances had a way of shifting rapidly in battle. She wondered what would happen if she could absorb the athanc now and add it to her own shard. She had been there for the struggles Tagrosh had gone through and was unsure if she could endure such a transformation. What would happen if she did this while her mind was severed from Everblight? Would the amplified power be hers alone, or would Everblight benefit while she was subsumed? Regardless, she was not convinced their plan had to proceed exactly

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as the warcaster had insisted. She would remain wary and ready to strike at any opportunity. She broke into a run and followed Haley toward the resting place of Blighterghast.

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CHAPTER 31: VICTORIA HALEY T here was a blur of movement and the flutter of a cloak, and then the hooded figures of blackclads surrounded Haley and the others on all sides. Some stood amid the rubble, and others stepped around the corners of buildings and onto the cobbled street. Tey looked out of place in such urban environs despite the surrounding mountain peaks. Tey leaned on their voulges and watched with hooded eyes. Behind them were several looming forms, like crude statues made of stone and wood with glowing runes along their limbs. Haley raised a hand and brought her warjacks and fellow survivors to a halt. She had not had many dealings with the druids, but she knew they were dangerous. A peal of thunder and a flash of lightning foretold the arrival of another blackclad who appeared before Haley. Fingers of lightning crackled across his body before dissipating into the air. Te ornate quality of the man’s robes and the golden torc ringing his neck denoted authority beyond the others. He carried no visible weapon, but his power was palpable. Te slate-grey of his pupils lent sternness to his gaze, and his bald head and angular face only added to the effect. A black web of blighted scar tissue clung to his neck and face. “I am Lortus,” the druid said, locking his gaze with Haley’s. “Watcher of the Wyrmwall Mountains, an omnipotent of my order. You have come far enough. Hand over the athanc and leave this place.”


Haley brandished Echo and glanced at the blackclads who had begun to circle the group, their weapons at the ready should they meet resistance. Her knowledge of druid hierarchies was limited, but it was clear Lortus belonged to their upper echelon, which meant he likely had tremendous powers over the natural world. She was not certain this was a fight she could win, especially with such depleted forces: Blaize still lacked her arcane turbine, and the warlocks had no warbeasts. She had no way to gauge the strength of the surrounding blackclads. Blaize and Corley stood back-toback, and Saeryn and Rhyas quickly mirrored the pair. “What then? I hand over the stone simply because you demand it? I do not recognize your authority here. What use have you of the dragon’s heartstone?” Haley asked. “Tis matter is far beyond your ken. What I do with the athanc is none of your concern,” Lortus said. “I ask only as a courtesy.” “It is you who act from ignorance,” Haley said, feeling her temper rise. She was not someone to underestimate or dismiss. “I can see into the future. Can you make the same claim? I know what will happen if we fail. If any of us are to survive, the stone must go to Blighterghast. Any other path leads to death and turns western Immoren to an ashen wasteland.” His eyes narrowed as he took in her words. He clearly did not believe her. “No one can see the future. Blighterghast has fallen. Nothing you could do now will change that. Te athanc must be taken far from here, far from oruk. It is our only hope of mitigating this disaster. Only I can make that happen. Relinquish the athanc now or perish.” “aking it away will doom us all,” Haley insisted. “I know what I must do.” “Tat I cannot allow,” Lortus said. “Ten we are at an impasse,” Haley replied, drawing on her

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power. She prepared to seize control of the flow of time and launch a swift attack, hoping to steal the initiative. Tere was a crackle of thunder and lightning limned Lortus’ body as the cobblestone beneath his boots blackened and smoked. Te omnipotent had made no move that Haley could see, and yet a pair of curved obsidian blades appeared in his hands. Te omnipotent sprung forward, blades in a whirl of motion. Despite his aged appearance, he moved with surprising alacrity, and he covered the distance between himself and Haley at speed. Runes surrounded Haley as a bubble of time distortion enveloped her, accelerating her motions and giving her the chance to dodge his first strikes. Haley stepped back and leveled Echo at the oncoming druid, though he proved nearly as elusive despite her magic. Torn stepped forward to stand at her side. She braced herself for the opening assault, but the bite of the obsidian blades never came. Tere was a crack of thunder and a flash of lightning as several of the blackclads behind Lortus were electrified, their robes smoking as they crumpled to the ground. A massive gust of wind struck Lortus in the chest and hurled the omnipotent backward twenty yards into the side of an adjacent building, the druid’s body shattering the stone. Haley and the others turned toward the source of the unexpected attack and saw another blackclad, bald but younger, his booted feet and flowing robes hovering above the ground. He held a pronged spear out before him, the end leveled at the place where Lotus had stood. With weapons at the ready, stone constructs and blackclads emerged from the rubble at the man’s combatant’s back. “Lortus is mine,” the new arrival said to his forces, glaring at the omnipotent as he spoke. He glanced at Haley. “Deliver the shard to Blighterghast.” When Haley and the others did not immediately depart, he commanded, “Go!”

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CHAPTER 32: KRUEGER K rueger watched the odd alliance

of Cygnarans and blighted Nyss rush toward the crater where Blighterghast had fallen. He sent lightning at those few blackclads who turned to pursue. His own forces had joined the fight, and now the streets below his floating form were filled with lesser druids hurling spells at one another or exchanging blows with their voulges while massive constructs battered the opposing forces with stone fists. It was not the first time Krueger had gone against the will of the order, but openly attacking an omnipotent was a step he had yet to take. It was unfortunate it had to come to this. Krueger had hoped to avoid killing his own. He had become a true lone wolf despite his agenda matching that of the Circle—if they could only bring themselves to see it. Change required risks they were unwilling to take. Lortus launched skyward and brought himself level with Krueger. “Arrogant as ever. What is it you plan to do? Kill me?” “If I must,” Krueger spat. “oo much relies on this. All barriers must be removed.” “Te dragon alliance rampages across Caen, the ley lines suffer untold damage, and oruk himself has returned to the mainland for the first time in nearly two thousand years. In the pursuit of a convenient solution to our problems, you have magnified them a hundredfold!”


“Your endless half-measures forced my hand. Interfere and I will show you my resolve!” Lortus shook his head, his face solemn. “When the council called for your execution, I spoke out in your defense. I was clearly mistaken. You have become a liability, Stormlord.” Te omnipotent readied his obsidian blades. “I cannot suffer you to live.” Kruger pointed the forked end of his spear, Wurmtongue, at his opponent. “So be it.” Te omnipotent shot forward with the speed and tenacity of the elements he commanded, driving his blades at the weak points in Krueger’s armor. Krueger twisted aside, knocked one of the obsidian blades askew with Wurmtongue, and concealed himself from the other with his cloak. A blast of energy caught him in the back, sending pain up his spine and heaving his body through the air. By the time Krueger recovered, Lortus had ascended further into the sky and used the elevation to press the attack, diving with blades extended like the talons of a hawk. A hasty spell threw the oncoming Lortus aside, but not before one of his blades bit into Krueger’s shoulder, slicing through muscle and tendon without effort and rendering the Stormlord’s left arm limp. A wold fighting below exploded in a shower of stone fragments and splinters as Krueger redirected his shoulder wound and restored the use of his arm. Te opposing forces had fewer wolds, and he was grateful for the advantage. Lortus may have been the most recently arisen omnipotent, but his skill and cunning were not to be underestimated. Lortus’ areas of elemental control were similar to Krueger’s, which added to the difficulty of confronting him. Krueger could use the wind against his foe, but lightning had no effect. But by the same token, his adversary faced the same challenge. Lortus

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was far more deadly in a close melee, however, so Krueger had to keep his distance. Every time Lortus closed in, he created another opportunity for Krueger to be critically wounded, especially if he overextended himself. Lortus crossed his blades, and runes flared before him to release a concentrated blast of raw kinetic force. It was magic Krueger had not seen from him before, and he was caught off guard. He took the brunt of the spell, this time from the front, and he felt his ribs splinter as they absorbed the force. He plummeted and struck the roof of a Rhulic watchtower, drawing cries of surprise from the dwarves seeking shelter inside. He rolled off the roof and regained his bearings, stopping his fall by focusing his mind on the act of flight. He shunted the damage inflicted on his ribs to a construct and soared toward Lortus, taking the charge and leading with the forked tip of Wurmtongue. Lortus greeted the challenge with equal enthusiasm. Te druids flew through the air with weapons extended, their cloaks billowing behind them, and when they met, a roll of thunder echoed over the battlements and ran along the lengths of the streets. Blade and spear clashed in a flurry of feints and strikes, and the battle between the two built into something more: the meeting of two storm fronts. Lightning strikes rained down around them as they separated and rejoined, maneuvering with the power of the elements while seeking an advantage. “Perhaps it was best you distanced yourself from the order,” Lortus said mockingly. “You lack the power and self-control to become an omnipotent.” Krueger gritted his teeth, a scowl overtaking his face. He thrust Wurmtongue at his opponent with renewed ferocity. At the outset, he had wanted nothing more than to waylay Lortus until Blighterghast had consumed the loose athanc, but the notion of slaying the omnipotent was gaining appeal.

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CHAPTER 33: VICTORIA HALEY “W hich

way?” Haley’s breath was ragged, and the words did not come easily. As they got closer to Blighterghast, the air had grown heavy with the presence of the dragon’s intense blight. Its potency was beyond anything they had felt in proximity to even the unshielded athanc. Tis dragon’s body seemed to emanate blighted radiance like the heat from a blast furnace. Its spilled blood magnified the foulness in the air. A burning sensation had settled deep into Haley’s lungs as if she had inhaled smoke from a fire, and the smell of sulfur was pervasive. She moved more slowly, and she felt her control over the flow of time had become tenuous. Te blight was affecting her power. Te threads of fate were no longer clear to her sight, and only through forced concentration could she call upon her warcaster talents. It reminded her of what she felt while she had been affected by the Cryxian poison that had robbed her of her powers. Memories of days spent in the Point Bourne infirmary came unbidden to her mind. “We are close.” Saeryn said, seeming to be free of similar difficulties. Being blighted seemed to have its advantages. Tey continued forward no more than a few yards when Haley heard the clatter of steel on stone and turned to find Chaplain Corley dropped to one knee, his breathing labored. He pressed a gauntleted fist to his mouth to muffle a fit of coughing that quickly


doubled him over and left his lower lip spattered with blood. “oo close for normal mortals,” Saeryn said with indifference. She regarded Corley with a cold gaze. “Blighterghast’s presence will kill him, I think. Te mechanik, too.” she nodded toward Strangewayes. More than ever, Haley wanted to punch Saeryn in her face. Te Nyss’ unfeeling demeanor offended her, but she knew both Saeryn and Rhyas still had their roles to play. “I’m fine,” Corley said as he regained his feet and stood straight. For a moment, he appeared steady, but another bout of coughing struck almost immediately—this one worse than the last. He wretched violently, and his face went pale. “Saeryn’s right,” Haley said, eyeing Blaize, Corley, and Strangewayes and hating the way the words sounded as she spoke them. “Without power fields, the three of you will never make it. Tis is as far as you go.” Blaize’s indignation was apparent. “Now wait just a minute. If you think—” Haley raised a hand to silence Blaize. “Tose are my orders.” She knew she was asking a great deal of the Knight of the Prophet. echnically, they were equivalent in rank, both warcasters, and it had been Blaize’s mission at the outset. Haley hoped her order would allow the other woman to withdraw without the loss of pride or honor. Blaize leaned in to speak to Haley in a harsh whisper. “Tose two will betray you the moment you turn your back.” “If they plan to betray me, we have already lost,” Haley said. “You’ve done enough. Get Corley and Strangewayes out of here while you can.” “Very well. One of these days, you’re going to realize you can’t handle everything on your own.” With that, she turned away and moved to help Corley.

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A sinking feeling took hold in the pit of Haley’s stomach as she departed alongside Saeryn and Rhyas. She had shed allies since leaving Point Bourne, and many of them were now dead. As she walked toward the resting place of Blighterghast, she did so in the company of those she neither knew nor trusted. But her vision told her she must depend on these Nyss. Otherwise, only Skillet and Torn remained. Te ’jacks followed close behind, raindrops evaporating from their chassis on contact in little puffs of steam. Te temperature soared with every step, and the heat baked off the cobblestone as if magma roiled just beneath. Whereas other portions of the enclave had bustled with activity, the quarter where Blighterghast had landed was devoid of life, the vacant battlements keeping silent vigil over the deadened streets. A deep throbbing struck Haley’s temples, and an ache permeated throughout her body and settled in her joints like shards of glass grinding against bone. Maintaining her connection to Torn and Skillet had become difficult, but by no means impossible, and she kept watch for threats through the additional sets of eyes. Saeryn and Rhyas strode ahead, their blighted bodies accustomed to the energies radiating from the downed dragon. Te pair skirted low walls and traversed crumbled buildings with the same unified movement they used in battle. Te crater occupied the space of a Corvis city block, and a glow emanated from its depths. Ash and sparks drifted up from the hole undeterred by the rain, and a gentle steam evaporated from the surrounding piles of rubble. Haley coughed viciously into her hand until her palm was red and her throat was raw. Her eyes burned from the smoke, and she fought to blink back tears. From the lip of the crater, she could see the many subterranean levels of the enclave separated out and revealed in the way the various floors of a dollhouse might be for a child. Te outlines of

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exposed rooms and tunnels burned and crumpled inward, pulled toward the bottom of the gaping pit around which they now huddled. Te occasional slab of stone or wooden support broke away and tumbled end-over-end into the flaming abyss. At the bottom lay Blighterghast, his body shattered from his prolonged battle and subsequent fall. Sheets of black scales coated the dragon’s body, and the spaces between each plate radiated with an orange glow that pulsed and faded like the slow beating of a heart. Great gashes scored the godlike creature’s body and wings, and blood stemmed from a wound upon his neck and pooled in the bottom of the crater. Out of the congealing blood a number of peculiar dragonspawn had formed, their bodies asymmetrical. Brackish dragon blood clung to their bodies in thick, coagulated strands that broke away at the final moments of genesis. Dozens of spawn both large and small roamed over Blighterghast’s body, sniffing at the ash-laden air and stretching their newly-formed appendages. Some of their limbs were twisted and useless, but of barbs and talons and teeth there was no shortage. Tey showed no interest in clawing their way up from the depths of the crater or exploring the surrounding tunnels. Haley wondered if they served as a last line of defense for Blighterghast in his weakened state. “I did not expect this,” Saeryn said. She crouched at the edge of the crater and watched the malformed creations. “We did not see this at the battle with Pyromalfic. Teir imperfections are rampant. Tey are inferior to Everblight’s spawn.” “But still dangerous. Tere are too many,” Haley said. She was painfully aware of the blight’s effect on her body. “Te longer we wait, the stronger they become,” Saeryn replied. As they watched, some of the newly hatched spawn were becoming more fully formed, their limbs sprouting new barbs and weaponry.

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She approached the metal cube containing the athanc, running her hand over its side, looking for the mechanism that would open the prison. Haley gripped Saeryn’s wrist. “Wait. Tere’s something I need to do first.” Saeryn shook herself free of Haley’s grasp with a murderous look. “Tere’s no time.” Haley nodded. “A moment.” She returned to the crater, the toes of her boots hanging precariously over the ledge. Her lungs continued to burn, and she balled a fist at her side to steel her body against the ongoing pain. She shut her eyes against the shimmering heat and plumes of ash, and with all of her mental reserves, she projected her mind into the depths of the crater. Te blight weighed down on her, threatening to smother her arcane talent, but she fought through it. She was alone in her mental descent, a diver navigating currents of sulfur and ash. In the next moment, a consciousness of terrible power fixed on her own, pivoting its gaze to where she balanced at the crater’s edge. She had reached out to the mind of Blighterghast, and in his wounded state his rage was absolute. A spike of pain shot through her mind, and in an instant, the dragon dredged through Haley’s skull. She could feel an alien intelligence flipping through the events of the past few days like they were nothing more than pages in a tome. Her body went rigid, and for a brief moment, she thought she might tumble over the crater’s edge and fall into the rubble below. Te dragon’s voice boomed within her mind with unfathomable force: SURRENDER HE AHANC OR DIE. As Nidoboros had done at Ironhead Station, Blighterghast threatened to overtake her mind. She longed to let go, to hand herself over to Blighterghast, to be free of the agony.

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A mental voice came to her then, soft and familiar though it was the first time she had heard it. She recognized the speaker as Future. “Tis too we will endure. You are stronger than he knows.” Te voice’s every word seemed to instill in Haley the very strength of which it spoke, and from deep within herself, she drew upon the spark that had made her special, that had set her apart even before those early years at the abbey when her powers had manifested. Te willfulness of her youth welled up inside of her, covered in dust and scrapes, and a sense of control returned to her limbs. She opened her eyes and looked down at her clenched fist, the fist that had been nothing but a mechanikal imitation of the real thing until recently. I am strong , she thought. I have not come

this far to yield. HE AHANC OR DEAH , the voice said again, rattling her teeth in their sockets. “I will not,” Haley said, uttering the words aloud as she thought them. “If you still possess the strength to destroy me, I suggest you do it. Otherwise, I am prepared to negotiate.” Both Saeryn and Rhyas stood at her side, staring at her with incredulity. Saeryn’s head was slightly tilted as though she were listening. Evidently, she too could hear the mental voice of Blighterghast. Another burst of rage from Blighterghast flooded Haley’s mind, threatening to take possession, but this time she was prepared. She armored her thoughts with a wall of temporal distortion and pitted her full mental capacity against Blighterghast’s efforts. Her mental barrier held. Te pain at the base of her skull dissipated, as did the aches that had plagued her body. Te concentration of blighted energy had been lessened. After a long pause, the dragon’s voice returned.

MAKE YOUR REQUES. QUICKLY. Haley exhaled a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding

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and took a moment to organize her thoughts. “If we give this to you, Cygnar is to be protected. You will bring it no harm, and you will intervene should your kin or your creator move against it. If I aid you in your war, you must become our shield. Agreed?” Tere was a pause, and Haley was about to repeat her demands when the dragon’s voice filled her head. DONE. NOW, GIVE HE AHANC O ME . “I have another requirement,” Saeryn said, stepping to the ledge beside Haley and peering into the smoking crater. Haley felt the temperature rise as though someone had stoked a furnace, and some of the ache returned to her joints. ENOUGH OF HESE GAMES , Blighterghast said. Haley glanced at Saeryn and then Rhyas. She steadied herself, knowing this second request was likely to invoke the dragon’s ire. She hadn’t expected Saeryn to insert herself into the negotiations, but perhaps the allure of such an opportunity had been what had prompted her cooperation. “Everblight and his servants are not to be harmed,” Saeryn intoned. A flash of rage appeared in her eyes, betraying the roiling emotions under her calm exterior. “No retaliation for past harm. Pyromalfic forgotten. Call off your hunt, and I will give you the heartstone.” A blast of heat radiated forth from the crater, and the ground beneath Haley’s feet trembled. An intense pressure clamped down on her skull like a vice, and her vision swam. A chorus of draconic screeches carried up from the throats of the deformed dragonspawn.

I SHALL DEVOUR HE HEAR OF HE BERAYER PIECE BY PIECE. HIS FAE IS DECIDED . “Tose are my terms,” Saeryn shouted, refusing to be cowed by the dragon’s rage. Her own will must have been as strong as Haley’s, for she endured the onslaught. “Accept or perish.”

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I REFUSE YOUR PEY DEMANDS , Blighterghast said. Saeryn winced, and Haley felt the dragon attack her mind in an effort to regain control, but they were both wise to his tactics. Te dragon was growing weaker. Haley squared her shoulders. “Ten the athanc goes to oruk,” she said, glancing at Saeryn and giving her a curt nod of solidarity, which the Nyss ignored. “And Nidoboros’ sacrifice will be for nothing. What a shame, since it was his courage that helped you banish oruk from the mainland so long ago.” Another stretch of silence passed, and Haley wondered whether the negotiations were concluded or if the dragon was mulling over her words. Even if Blighterghast agreed to Saeryn’s demands, Haley knew nothing of the loyalty of dragons. She was forced to acknowledge the very real possibility that she would be burned alive the moment Blighterghast recovered, agreement or no. Tere were no options left, however. And deep down, Haley believed the dragon would somehow be bound by this pact. All threads of fate converged here. I WILL SPARE HE BERAYER , Blighterghast said. BRING

NIDOBOROS.

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CHAPTER 34: SAERYN Saeryn’s hands wandered over the athanc prison, tracing runes and applying pressure as she searched for the release mechanism. She could feel Blighterghast’s consciousness lingering over her mind, his impatience almost tangible. Flashes of lightning from the storm cast the cube’s runes into sharp relief. Part of the cube’s surface depressed with an audible click beneath her touch, followed by the lengthy hiss of decompression. Saeryn stepped back, and the faces of the cube separated, levitating away from one another. Te cube broke apart, revealing the glowing crystalline form of the athanc at its center. Te facets of the heartstone were deep black with edges that glinted silver as the stone caught the light. She thought back to the seizure of Pyromalfic’s athanc at the Castle of the Keys battle. Afterward they had fled north, and she had escorted Tagrosh through the dark and forgotten passages beneath Ios. Tere she had watched the Prophet suffer as he struggled to absorb the athanc into his own self on Everblight’s behalf. It had been the first time anything like this had ever been attempted—Everblight’s own essence was divided and scattered among his warlocks, the piece within Tagrosh incomplete. Te dragon had resisted its annihilation with every ounce of its will, and Tagrosh had nearly died in the process, barely able to sustain the outpouring of warring blighted energies. Standing beside this pristine athanc, she felt


power of an entirely different caliber. Nidoboros was far more powerful than Pyromalfic had been, she was certain. Saeryn tentatively brushed the athanc with the tips of her fingers, and a surge of blighted energy coursed up her arm and through her body. An expanse of fresh spines and scales threatened to erupt from beneath her skin. Maintaining her form required concentration. She used her ability to channel such energies to force the foreign blight to wash over her skin but not to penetrate. In his weakened state, Blighterghast could not raise his head to consume the athanc on his own. Te stone would need to be delivered into the dragon’s body through one of his many wounds, which presented a new problem. Te spawn birthed from the dragon’s blood were not under his control, so a warjack couldn’t carry the athanc down alone without risking the machine’s destruction by the rogue spawn, not that the cumbersome machines could handle the descent anyway. Tey would have to deliver the athanc to Blighterghast themselves, and they would have to carry it. “Can it be done?” Haley asked. Te warcaster stood at a distance, leaning heavily on her spear for support. It took all of her will and power to resist the combined blight of the downed dragon and the exposed athanc. “Yes,” Saeryn said. “We must.” Her words were riddled with uncertainty. She glanced at her sister, who stared stoically into the crater, watching Blighterghast’s spawn below. She had said few words since Saeryn had elected to sever their minds from Everblight. Saeryn found it more difficult than usual to read her sister’s mood. Teir relationship had been compromised before, and eventually it had mended. She had no doubt they could do it again, but now was not the time to stand divided. “Rhyas and I will share this burden.”

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Rhyas nodded, not looking away from the crater. “Te strength of the athanc’s blight is too great for one.” “Agreed,” Haley said. She joined Rhyas at the crater’s edge, gripping her weapon in both hands despite her apparent fatigue. “No,” Saeryn said. “We must carry the stone on our own. Being near it could be enough to kill you.” “I don’t plan on carrying anything,” Haley replied, determination in her voice. A pair of ethereal projections took shape on either side of her, younger and older versions of herself. “I’m going to handle defense.”

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CHAPTER 35: KRUEGER K rueger led with Wurmtongue, thrashing it through the space between him and his opponent. Lortus had continued to insult him, goading him into pressing his attack, and although Krueger knew what he was doing, it was hard to resist the urge to strike down the foolish omnipotent who placed such emphasis on matters of rank and order. Much had changed since Krueger had set out on his own path. He was the Stormlord, and he would not be treated as an inferior. Lortus raised his blades to turn aside Wurmtongue and sought to drive inward for an opening, but Krueger slipped out of reach, floating on the air’s currents and using his weapon’s greater length to his advantage. Te omnipotent had started the fight strong, scoring several grievous wounds early, but the elder druid had not involved himself in battle as actively as Krueger in recent years, and his lack of endurance began to show. Lortus was forced to surrender ground on Krueger’s next attack, backpedaling through the torrents of rain that buffeted both of their floating forms. Now and then, the pair exchanged bursts of wind or arcane force that sent one or the other hurtling through a wall or crashing to the streets, but they recovered and closed again. Tere had been no sign of activity from where the others had gone to confront Blighterghast, nothing to indicate the dragon had received the athanc. Krueger could not risk pulling away from


Lortus to learn more. In the skies above, the dragons continued to fight, but they had become frantic and defensive, working largely to evade their creator and landing few strikes in return. Te loss of their leader had left them in disarray. Te swipe of a blade slipped past Krueger’s defenses and bit into his forearm, drawing blood for a moment before it was shunted to a wold. Te construct toppled, unable to sustain itself after receiving so many similar wounds. Few of his stone creations remained, but now all of Lortus’ were gone. Te skirmish between his forces and those loyal to Lortus was slowing, each side having suffered casualties. It would soon end. An opening would allow him to neutralize Lortus, and he would need to decide if he were truly willing to end the omnipotent’s life and face the consequences that would follow. Depending on the outcome with Blighterghast, whether either blackclad lived or died might not matter. Still, Krueger would not back down. His pride required Lortus to be broken and shamed at his feet.

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CHAPTER 36: VICTORIA HALEY Haley’s

body ached with each step as she led the descent into the crater. In most places, the sides were a sheer drop riddled with the collapsed ends of tunnels and exposed chambers, too steep to climb, but after examining their options the group had spotted a series of inclines formed from stone slabs and compressed rubble that wound to the bottom. It was down this precarious path that Haley now treaded. Past and Future moved alongside her, and a dozen paces behind came Saeryn and Rhyas, the heartstone of Nidoboros cradled under Saeryn’s arm. It was just as Haley had seen in her vision. endrils of organic matter sprouted from the athanc. Now free from its prison, the athanc sought to reform its body. Saeryn’s flesh rippled and spines broke through her skin before receding under the force of the warlock’s will. Rhyas leaned against her, grinding her teeth as she leeched the excess blight from her sister and struggled to expel the energy into their surroundings. Haley could see that energy rising in iridescent waves that resembled a heat mirage. Torn and Skillet had been left behind, the path too fragile and uncertain for their bulk to navigate. Haley felt her connection to the warjacks thin as their distance grew. Te last thought from Torn’s cortex had been one of anxiety. Sensing her struggle, the warjack was uncomfortable being separated during this time of peril. Haley had reassured the machine of her swift return, but in


truth she was not convinced she would emerge from the crater. She had been spared death once, and she wondered if it hadn’t been so she could give her life here instead, trading her existence for Cygnar’s preservation. At the sight of Haley charging down the crumbling slopes, the nearest dragonspawn hissed and shrieked, turning their eyeless heads in her direction. Tey came at her in twos and threes, sprinting, crawling, hobbling along under the burden of deformed limbs. Past ran ahead, her weightless body bounding over the disheveled stone, and blasted the oncoming spawn with kinetic strikes that crushed their grotesque bodies in sprays of black ichor and unrecognizable organs. Future followed with barrages of blue lightning that arced from one spawn to the next. A quadruped with three arms and two serpentine heads broke through Past and Future, and Haley drew on the last reserves of her dwindling strength to drive Echo deep into the creature’s chest, leveraging it over the side of the incline where it fell shrieking into the throng of spawn below. Behind her, Saeryn and Rhyas fought to contain the excess blight rampaging through their bodies. Pain contorted their faces, and they walked with the crippled gait of the elderly. Should the spawn reach them, they were in no condition to defend themselves—all of their concentration was required to keep their forms whole. By the time they reached the bottom, the dragonspawn had been whipped into frenzy, furious at the intrusion into their creator’s resting place. It did not matter that Blighterghast welcomed their approach—the dragon was so near to death he could not command these blood-spawned protectors. Tey pushed forward with dozens of screeching voices, clamoring over the towering corpse of the dragon and pulling themselves along with claws and limbs that bent at the wrong angles.

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Past and Future strode forward, their lightning and kinetic blasts tearing a path through the ranks of spawn. Haley skewered a beast born with useless wings and then swept Echo’s bladed end through the neck of another. Her muscles ached and her legs threatened to fold beneath her with every step, and only the sight of Blighterghast’s proximity kept her moving. Haley drew her hand cannon and blasted apart the spawn that had made it through her projections. She struggled to keep her feet as she stumbled over the uneven path, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other while Past and Future did the fighting. Te effect of the blight worsened as she neared the body of the fallen dragon and the great pools of its spilled poisonous blood. A spray of bile from one of the many jagged maws struck Haley’s power field, which flared and failed. A second spray coated her armor. Steel plates warped and melted beneath the creature’s acid. Other spawn collided with Haley and sent her sprawling before launching their scything talons at her prone form. She rolled left and right, dodging the incoming blows. Flecks of stone and soil erupted with each impact. Agony shot through her leg as a pointed limb pierced her thigh and pinned her in place. She caught sight of Saeryn and Rhyas rushing past. Te Nyss did not spare her even a passing glance, carrying on with the athanc clutched between them. A second talon pierced her shoulder. She hacked at the limbs with Echo before vaporizing a creature’s face with her hand cannon. Still they came, burying her beneath the weight of their screeching forms. As the wall of horrors closed around her, she glimpsed Past and Future still fighting to clear the way, and then the spawn blocked her view. One of her ribs cracked and more talons bit into her body. Her hand cannon clattered across the stone and was lost in the shuffle. Te hot, coppery taste of blood filled her mouth.

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Her mental connection to Past and Future vanished, and she knew the projections had been overwhelmed. Te concentrated blight choked her magic, preventing her spell runes from forming no matter how hard she tried. She slashed and stabbed at the avalanche of flesh and teeth, determined to die fighting. Her head swam, and she fought to remain conscious against the blight and loss of blood. Her body operated on instinct and adrenaline. She caught a lunging spawn with a boot to the chest and sent it hurtling over her head, while at the same time driving Echo’s point into the throat of another. But the spawn were too great in number. Her world had become needle teeth and scales. From somewhere above her came a battle cry. A spawn poised to rake its claws across her face found itself headless. A fountain of gore erupted from its neck, and in the next moment Haley’s assailants shifted their attention to this new threat. “Light of Morrow, give me strength!” came the cry. A shield bearing the Radiance of Morrow shot forward and bashed aside another spawn. Te armored form of Constance Blaize followed behind. She swept her blade over Haley in a wide arc that sheared away limbs and cut deep wounds into the enemy. Runes appeared before the priest, and a blast of white light drove back the nearest remaining beasts. Before she could collect her wits, Haley was pulled to her feet, and Blaize was pressing her hand cannon back into her grip. “You shouldn’t get in the habit of disobeying orders,” Haley said with pained smile. “Only leads to trouble.” She threw one arm over Blaize’s shoulders and used Echo to support herself. “And you should stop leaving the infirmary without permission,” Blaize replied. “Let’s get out of here.” She attempted to steer the two of them toward the upper reaches of the crater, but Haley didn’t budge.

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“Wait!” Haley shouted. “Look!” She pointed Echo toward where Saeryn and Rhyas were close by the body of Blighterghast. Several of the smaller and less fully formed dragonspawn were attacking the twins, who were in no condition to fight, the athanc’s blight robbing their strength and power. Te Nyss fought back-toback, but were entirely on the defensive. Without the support of Haley’s time projections, they had been stalled and would soon be overcome. “Forget them!” Blaize yelled. “Tey left you for dead! Let them die by the talons of their own kind.” Blaize had not been privy to their bargain with the dragon. “Tey still have the athanc! If we abandon them now we condemn all of Cygnar! It must be delivered!” Blaize seemed torn, but then nodded. “By Morrow, I hope you’re right!” Haley steadied herself, holding tight to Blaize, and focused on summoning the projections of her other selves again. After a moment’s concentration, the specters of Past and Future materialized and rushed at the circling dragonspawn, delivering flashes of lightning and blasts of kinetic energy to rip through their chitinous plates. Te two warcasters staggered forward, and Haley focused on maintaining her projections. She could hear Blaize’s chanted prayers as they were both surrounded by radiant light, some holy aura which seemed to be keeping most of the heavy blight at bay, perhaps by strength of faith alone. Tey reached the encircled Nyss as the last of the nearest spawn were exterminated. Saeryn gave Haley the slightest of nods. Te athanc beneath Saeryn’s arm no longer appeared as a crystal, but rather a pulsing mass of draconic flesh. “Forward!” Haley shouted, her voice startling the exhausted twins into motion. Tey reached the inert corpse of the dragon

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together, and with the last of her strength, Saeryn crammed the fleshy mass containing the athanc of Nidoboros into a wound spanning Blighterghast’s side. For a moment her upper body disappeared into the gap, but her twin helped pull her loose, and she fell back, gasping. Te change was so sudden as to be eerie. Te orange glow beneath the overlapping layers of Blighterghast’s black scales flared and ushered forth a wave of heat like a once-cold furnace being stoked to life. Te remaining eye of Old Ravager opened once more.

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CHAPTER 37: LORTUS Lortus had known Krueger for most of the potent’s life, and it had been all too easy to exploit his weaknesses. While the Stormlord possessed considerable power, he had not yet fully learned that battles were more dependent on will and cunning than pure mystical strength. Although Krueger did not lack cunning, he was impatient and arrogant, both of which could be used against him. Rather than attempting to fell Krueger in one swift stroke, Lortus had taken a longer approach, electing to lead Krueger down the path of apparent victory. He’d dipped and dodged and taken a defensive posture, all the while scoring glancing hits. While Lortus had lost the last of his own constructs, most of Krueger’s lay in ruin as well. Te Stormlord continued to attack aggressively, thinking Lortus was at his limit and on the verge of collapse. Krueger lunged, the tip of his spear aimed and Lortus’ chest. Rather than batting it aside or withdrawing in the pattern he had repeated several times, Lortus rolled his body along the length of the spear, his movement impossibly fast. His obsidian blades rushed ahead of him, one high and the other low. Krueger ducked the former, but the latter opened a gash along his thigh. Lortus continued his maneuver, and before Krueger could react, Lortus was behind him, driving his blades through the folds of the Stormlord’s cloak, each weapon tasting flesh. A burst of wind threw them apart, but Lortus was quick to recover, and as he rushed forward behind a flash of obsidian blades,


he caught a look of horror on Krueger’s face. Wurmtongue came up to deflect the incoming blows, but as Lortus was surrounded by jagged glyphs, the blades he wielded became a blur, knocking the spear aside and following through to strike Krueger’s exposed torso. Te keen blades slipped between several of his ribs in quick succession, each emerging with a fresh gout of blood. On the street below, the last of the stone constructs shattered, but it was not enough. Red spittle flew from Krueger’s mouth, and his eyes went wide from the pain. Te potent lost the ability to keep himself aloft and tumbled downward. Te crack of bones was audible as Krueger collided with the cobblestone. His body lay broken, one leg bent at an odd angle. A deep red crept over the green of his robes and spread outward from his ribs. His eyes were wide with surprise, staring into the falling rain. His chest rose and fell with ragged breaths, proving he was not yet dead. “How quickly your advantage is undone,” Lortus said, hovering over Krueger’s shattered body. “Do not underestimate your betters.” Lortus lowered himself to the ground and placed the tip of a blade beneath Krueger’s chin. Te last of the subordinate blackclads had been killed or fled. Te two of them were alone. “You had such potential. I blame Mohsar’s training for what you became.” Looking down at Krueger, Lortus couldn’t help but be reminded of himself, an equally wild and reckless youth, also captivated by the power of the elements. He tightened his grip on the blade and considered breaking the rules of his order by running Krueger through. It would make things easier. Tey had conducted a trial for him already, only to have Wurmwood intervene. As he debated the pragmatic necessity of cutting Krueger’s throat, a trumpeting roar fell over the street and shook the surrounding walls and buildings. Lortus froze. It was a call the omnipotent recognized without effort. Blighterghast was restored.

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CHAPTER 38: BLIGHTERGHAST A swell of vitality coursed through Blighterghast as the athanc of Nidoboros adhered to and was absorbed by his own body. A wave of blighted resurgence swept through his frame. Bones snapped back into place and gashes knitted themselves together in an instant, erasing damage that would ordinarily require centuries of slow recovery. Sight returned to the dragon’s damaged eye, and the membrane of his wings was restored to its former glory. At the same time, Blighterghast’s mind and perspective seemed to expand, and a haze dispersed as his thoughts came with crystal clarity. His scales hardened, and his limbs grew taut with new strength. He rose up amid the crater and loosed a roar that carried the unbridled rage of not one dragon but two. Te inner fire that smoldered beneath his scales ignited with greater intensity, and with one sweep of his wings, Blighterghast launched himself skyward. Amid the raging storm above, his brethren battled against their creator, their forms silhouetted by flashes of lightning as they orbited oruk and passed in and out of the dark clouds. oruk swept an exhalation of green flame downward in an attempt to catch the plummeting form of Scaefang, but the smaller dragon altered course and skirted the flames. Halfaug and Umbargoven streaked past the Dragonfather’s enormous wings, raking him with their claws before they were driven away by the slash of talons. Tere had been no further casualties, but even at a distance, Blighterghast could tell the alliance was failing. Teir movements


were frantic and disorderly, more evasion than attack. It was only a matter of time before oruk would end one of them with his jaws and swallow yet another athanc, moving closer to fully reuniting his essence. Blighterghast filled his lungs and let loose a roar that rolled out over the world like a proclamation, long and deep and loud : I

still draw breath, and all who inhabit the earth and sky shall tremble before my might. His cry also echoed across the athancs each bore within them, all those who were his lessers obeying his guiding will. Tey wheeled about and broke their old attack pattern, reforming into a new one of his design. Wings and scales cut through the pouring rain, and soon they circled Blighterghast, offering up triumphant cries of their own. Te wounds they had suffered since his fall were extensive. Burns and deep lacerations marked their bodies, and patches of their wings had become tattered or shriveled by the intense heat of oruk’s breath. Even so, renewed vigor burned behind their eyes, inspired by the return of their champion. ogether, the seven gathered: Ashnephos, Halfaug, Scaefang, Gjorlburn, Umbargoven, Horaurak, and Blighterghast himself. Trough the downpour, Blighterghast could see oruk spread his wings to their full span in a show of dominance, the dark clouds swirling behind him. oruk issued a roar across the open air, and the glow of green flame illuminated his jagged maw. Blighterghast returned the cry, and the dragons of the alliance joined him in one voice. From their collective maws trumpeted a chorus of deafening roars—Blighterghast’s loudest of all—that shook the battlements of the enclave below and drowned out the rolling thunder of oruk’s storm. Te cry reinvigorated their formerly dwindling strength, and with the power of Nidoboros burning inside him, Blighterghast led the charge in what he knew

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must be their final battle. Far above the Rhulic enclave, the dragon alliance and oruk clashed, claw against scale, and the resulting sound was that of mountain ranges being torn asunder. oruk met their charge, unwilling to yield. Tey raked at his wings and clawed his scales as they were thrown aside like fistfuls of straw in a high wind. Only Blighterghast, with the essence of Nidoboros fused with his own, refused to back down. Te two dragons rolled, biting and slashing, their power far beyond that of the others. Green flame poured from oruk’s jaws, and Blighterghast responded in kind. While oruk’s scales had previously rendered him immune to the exhalations of his progeny, the flames of Blighterghast prompted a roar from oruk filled with surprise and agony. Blighterghast did not hesitate to bathe his creator in the all-consuming fire. When they finally separated, it was oruk who broke for the cover of the storm. With swift beats of his wings Blighterghast ascended, and the other dragons followed. Something in the back of Blighterghast’s mind, a memory that was not his, bade him to veer off course as he entered the thick clouds. In the next instant a green light illuminated the storm clouds, and a battle cry heralded a meteorite of green flame and black scales as oruk hurtled down what had been Blighterghast’s projected path. Forewarned by Blighterghast’s sudden change of course, the alliance avoided the ruse and fell upon their creator with the ferocity of old. Claws found purchase and tore into his wings before oruk batted them aside. His tail caught Umbargoven. Green flame beat back Scaefang, catching Gjorlburn and warping his scales as well. Although the dragons of the alliance earned fresh wounds in the effort, oruk did not escape unscathed. By the time oruk had disentangled himself, Blighterghast was waiting.

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Other new memories came to him, and he knew these glimpses of past battles to be the recollections of Nidoboros, the experiences of the former champion melding with his own. Beneath the recollections came a lifetime of muscle memory, and as he made for oruk, he did so with a newfound understanding of his ancient foe. Blighterghast entered the fray once more. He smashed into oruk like a hammer fashioned from hardened scales and sent the Dragonfather flying back, his wings scrambling to recover equilibrium. oruk lunged with snapping jaws, looking to fix his teeth to Blighterghast’s throat as he had done before, but this time Blighterghast anticipated and evaded the attack, twisting aside. Before, oruk’s movements had seemed too fast to anticipate, but now Blighterghast could see the cues that betrayed his opponent’s intent. Eyes and tensed muscles telegraphed each move before he acted, and with these hints, Blighterghast stayed one step ahead of oruk. His tail caught oruk across the middle, and his claws ripped at oruk’s wings. Gouts of flame erupted between the two of them, putting the resilience of their scales to the test. More importantly, his actions and ability to remain close to oruk and fully engaged created openings for the others. Halfaug swept past and opened yet another lengthy tear along one wing, and Ashnephos briefly clamped his jaws to the base of oruk’s neck before being battered away. oruk launched away from Blighterghast and circled warily. Bellowing roars were exchanged in the lapse. For the first time since his return to the mainland, oruk showed caution. Blighterghast recognized oruk as the stronger, but when they finally collided once more, it was Blighterghast who took the initiative. oothriddled maws punctured scales and bit deep into flesh, and the

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blood of each dragon splashed the scales of the other. A sharp hiss sounded as Blighterghast’s washed over oruk. Te blood itself sizzled with caustic power and burst into flame as it ate away at the Dragonfather’s scales, and Blighterghast knew he had inherited another gift from the athanc of Nidoboros. Ignoring the scratches and bites oruk inflicted upon him, Blighterghast intensified his assault, focusing on the armor that his caustic blood had weakened. A bite that would otherwise have been deflected now punched through oruk’s brittle scales, and a shrill cry of fear and pain erupted from the Dragonfather. Blighterghast tightened his hold at the sound, digging his snout deeper into oruk’s chest. Green flame rushed from the gaping wound and scalded Blighterghast’s face, but the dragon held firm. Never before had such a wound been inflicted upon oruk, not even in the days when Nidoboros had soared over Caen. oruk’s alarm was clear. Te Dragonfather’s claws rained down, and his breath baked Blighterghast’s wings and back. Still, Blighterghast would not relinquish his hold. Te other dragons joined, clamping their own jaws on oruk’s throat and slashing at his baleful eyes. Teir combined efforts threatened to overwhelm him, and Blighterghast’s thirst to consume the heartstone of his creator filled him. Te tumult of scales and fangs crashed into a mountainside. Tey rolled, biting and scratching. Tose dragons of the alliance lost their hold as oruk battered the landscape with his body in a mad effort to dislodge them. Finally, even Blighterghast was thrown from the Dragonfather, though his snout was slick with the blood of his creator. oruk took wing, black ichor and balefire seeping from the wound inflicted upon his chest. Blighterghast burned with a desire to consume that which had given him life, to extinguish the flames of oruk and stand over his smoldering corpse as he roared to the

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sky in triumph. oruk’s defeat was within his grasp, as was the original athanc, the source from which his own heartstone had been carved. Blighterghast watched oruk rush not for the cover of the clouds above but due south, for the coast and the islands of Cryx beyond. He considered giving chase alone, but as the moment passed, the sting of his own wounds drew his attention. His wings bore many rents, his sides had fresh gashes, and many of his scales had been torn free. As he glanced around, he saw the dragons who had sworn loyalty to him were not ready to take to the air again. Each was badly injured, and their fighting spirit had been exhausted for the moment. Tey had won, but at great cost. Healing would take time. Blighterghast was the most intact among them, having been restored by the athanc given in his pact with the mortals. He did not forget this, nor the promises made when death neared. He stood on his hind legs, and with a deep breath let forth a thunderous roar. As it rolled out toward the coast and the fleeing oruk, the other dragons added their own voices to his warning. Te mainland was off limits once again, and Blighterghast’s vigil would be resumed. Yet deep down Blighterghast knew part of the threat was empty, for the others would not be ready to fight again for some time. Only oruk’s own wounds and his satisfaction with consuming Charsaug would keep him at bay. Tey would have to see which side recovered more swiftly. Te war was not ended, not for immortals such as they.

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CHAPTER 39: VICTORIA HALEY Haley,

Blaize, Saeryn, and Rhyas climbed over the lip of the crater and collapsed from exhaustion, sitting with their backs to the slabs of rubble. Te sky had cleared, and the sun beat down on their faces with the warmth of new life. Te skyline had changed. Not only had several mountain peaks been flattened or scarred by draconic impacts, but the land around them had been tainted. Te oppression of the dragons’ blight would likely remain for some time. Draconic blood had fallen from the sky and mixed with the rain. Here and there strange masses grew and pulsated in what remained of the enclave streets. Te Nyss sat shoulder to shoulder, looking grim. Haley didn’t understand the particulars, but she knew they had gone against the will of their draconic master to accomplish the task. Te whole affair was a bittersweet victory for the twins. Something in their faces reminded Haley of the refugees she had once seen fleeing Llael. She thought back to when she had first encountered the warlocks on the river, back to the hatred she had felt for them. Teir relationship to the dragons made them a threat to all Haley cared for. Teir blighted bodies and the spawn that served them were an embodiment of malevolent forces. Still, Haley sat with them now, not understanding their commitments but silently acknowledging their sacrifice. “Where will you go now?” Haley asked.


“Away,” Saeryn said, though what she intended to move away from was unclear. She stood, stretching her muscles, and Rhyas joined her. With that the two of them started walking down the ruined streets and over the piles of rubble, making their way north. Before they passed from sight, Saeryn glanced over her shoulder and gave Haley the slightest nod. Haley returned the gesture, and then the blighted Nyss were gone.

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CHAPTER 40: KRUEGER “Y ou

were right to pass the athanc to Blighterghast,” Lortus said. “I see that now.” Having assisted his adversary to his feet, the omnipotent stood beside Krueger. From the peaks of the Wyrmwall, they watched oruk shrink into the distance. “Ten I am grateful for your moment of clarity,” Krueger said, wincing as he spoke. After Blighterghast rose, the omnipotent had sheathed his blades and then loaned his power to help mend the worst of Krueger’s injuries. Te Stormlord was still cut and battered, a deep soreness in his chest, and his face haggard with strain, but the damage left was superficial. “You still carry the blame for this clash happening in the first place. But even so, the outcome would have been far worse had we acted as I thought we must. I commend you for standing your ground, misguided as your original intentions were. Should you lend your aid in repairing some of this blighted damage, perhaps we can restore your place in the order.” Krueger drew himself up and replied, “It was always my intent to restore what I could. It is unfortunate Everblight was not undone. We were so close.” Krueger felt bitter on that score, particularly at the dragon Charsaug for wrecking his plans just to chase an athanc that would have never been his. Yet that dragon had paid the ultimate price. Still, Krueger wished it had been Everblight whose power was extinguished instead. He would simply have to find another way.


Lortus shook his head. “You are a difficult man to forgive. But, given the events of this day, let there be peace between us. Know I can only speak for myself. You will need to seek the other omnipotents if you are to ask absolution for your other transgressions.” Krueger shook his head. “Tat isn’t going to happen. I have no use for your trials. I am who I am. I did what I must. I will not beg forgiveness.” “Failing to present yourself for judgment on the matter will only result in further complications. Tere will be consequences for what you did to the ley lines.” “I will take that under advisement.” Lortus gave a laugh that caught Krueger by surprise. “Stubborn as ever.” With a clap of thunder and flash of lightning, the omnipotent vanished from the peak, leaving Krueger alone with his thoughts.

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CHAPTER 41: LYLYTH Lylyth watched through the veil of her eyeless sight as her forces picked the corpse of Charsaug clean. Sickles and claws cut away flesh and scale and sawed through bones. Te hooded forms of acolyths glided among the dragonspawn and attached the spoils to the largest among them for travel. Te spawn carried other pieces away like a swarm of ants harvesting a dead animal for their colony. Blood flowed from the dragon in great rivulets and into ornate steel cauldrons, expelling swirls of steam as it met the cool air. Only a gaping hole remained in Charsaug’s chest where the dragon’s athanc had been, but the Legion would not let the spoils go to waste. Bone, blood, and sinew would be repurposed and given new life as some of the mightiest creations in Everblight’s army, just as the archangels had been birthed from the bones of Pyromalfic. Te other dragons had inexplicably ended their hunt and flown away, no longer chasing those who bore Everblight’s divided athanc. Teir reasons for doing so were unclear, although Lylyth had seen Saeryn and Rhyas crawling away from the crater made by Blighterghast. She felt certain Saeryn was responsible for their reprieve, but Everblight seethed over their apparent betrayal. With careful steps, Lylyth walked along what remained of Charsaug’s neck and upon reaching his head crouched over the gigantic eye that stared ever skyward, its depths devoid of any


animating intelligence. She pulled a knife from her boot. She knew the power held in a dragon’s eyes. She turned the knife downward and with a steady hand cut it loose. As always, the Legion would live on, and as always the flesh and blood of the fallen would serve.

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR Zachary C. Parker is a staff writer at Privateer Press where he writes for the award-winning WARMACHINE and HORDES tabletop miniatures games. He is a graduate of Bowling Green State University and a former editor for Shock Totem Magazine . In his free time he reads, murders people living inside his word processor, and tests the grandfather paradox with the time machine in his closet. He lives in Washington with his wife and obligatory cats.

Wrath of the Dragon Father

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