“There is no need for alarm. But please, come with me to—”
She was hit hard on the side, strong enough to knock the breath out of her for an instant. Had a soldier snuck up on her with a hammer? Not the most Imperial of weapons, but she had heard that many in the Twenty-Fifth Legion hailed from Phaidi, in the far north. Judging from the blow, however, this was an opponent of formidable strength, which was why she turned toward the attacker with some keenness in learning whom it might be.
A group of Imperial soldiers, mouths agape, were backing away. One had even dropped his sword on the ground. Next to her was a cannonball the size of Griogal’s fist. And there it was, the cannon it came from, mounted on a Scorpios chariot, violet smoke issuing from the muzzle.
“A mon… a monster!” the legionaries screamed.
“I am Loran.King of Arland.You cannot harm me, and Arland will not surrender!”
Loran roared. The sound, as if amplified with Power, spread far and wide across the battlefield. Her left eye saw fear spreading among her enemies, a violent ripple soaking them in sickly green. Her heart thumped like a drum.
Behind her, the Arlander soldiers roared as well.
“Follow the king!”
“Behold, our king!”
“Long live the new king of Arland!”
Griogal bellowed, “A thousand congratulations on your ascension, King of Arland! The enemy is in disarray, this is our chance to win the battle before the gigatherion gets here!”
Only then did Loran realize she had called herself a king for the first time. But she didn’t regret it; the title felt right.
Arrows flew over her head onto the enemy. They had come from the fortress side. Gwedion had arrived with his archers. The legion’s morale was broken, their soldiers falling to the ground as they were struck.
Thousands of Arlanders descended on the remnants of the Twenty-Fifth. Loran made the way for them with her swords. With the two forces entangled, the cannons on the chariots could not attack as easily as they had before. Griogal was right; they could win this battle.
That was when the sound of a bugle ripped through the air.
It was accompanied by the voice that had demanded their surrender all morning, only much, much angrier.
“Clarios has come. Now you shall all be nameless corpses on the battlefield, and Arland shall be a graveyard without a tombstone. I gave you the chance to save your lives. But you cast it aside and chosedeath.”
Far away, a giant machine approached on four legs, its lower body reminiscent of an ox. Its upper body was upright, like a man’s torso, with four thick arms. On top of it all, there was a huge trumpet-shaped head. The obsidian monstrosity, gleaming in sunlight, was as tall as any of the watchtowers of the fortress. It was even larger than the fire-dragon of the mountain.
The soldiers of Arland stared at Loran. Loran looked toward the volcano. She could only hope that Arienne had arrived in the dragon’s lair and succeeded in breaking its chains.
37CAIN
Safani convulsed, and finally fell forward. A dark puddle formed as blood gushed from his chest and shoulder, filling the grooves in the rust-colored dirt around them. Cain stared, thinking how he had killed two people in one night. He had been in alley fights before, injured many, even seriously to the brink of death. But he had never killed anyone by his own hand. It didn’t quite feel real to him, whether from shock or the unnatural quality of this place.
The whispering of the Power generators increased. Now it sounded like a song with no words. The bandages that the 327 Power generators above him were wrapped in unraveled in unison, and they fell to the red ground like snow.
And suddenly, Cain was standing in a field where snow was melting. Something about the scenery was familiar. Before him, thousands of people were in a raging battle. There were even Powered chariots, the kind he had seen in military parades. Blue flames erupted. A woman covered in dark red scales was swinging a swordin each hand. At some distance, a metal giant with four arms and four legs approached.
Far away to the left was a volcano, the sole mountain in view, a white plume of smoke issuing from it. Cain somehow knew what was going on inside there. He blinked and was suddenly inside the volcano where a dragon stood, its many eyes filled with violet light. Arienne was looking up at it. Under a light layer of armor, she wore the clothes he had bought her, which were now rumpled and faded from her long and arduous journey.
The withered corpses that comprised the Circuit of Destiny were looking down at this scene. Just as he was about to approach Arienne, a voice addressed him.
“Good of you to come.”
He turned.
Beneath the 327 withered corpses stood Fienna. Her long braided hair moved slightly in the breeze. It was hard to see through all the blood and cracks on his spectacles. Cain wiped them with his coat sleeve, but he knew very well this was not the real Fienna.
“Where am I?”
“If you’re talking about your body, it’s in the chamber of the Circuit of Destiny underneath the Senate. What you’re looking at, however, is the inside of the volcano in Arland. It’s where the dragon of Arland once lay trapped.”
