Marcus feathered the Firestorm's clutch while keeping a level RPM, carefully navigating to not step on the gold whelpling limping down the road.

  Layne stared at the map route, the distance ticking up and the line growing longer with each of the upright’s steps. "You sure this is a good idea?" He turned in his chair. "This could be a trap."

  Shaking his head, Marcus stayed focused on following the dragonling without stepping on it. "I don't think so." He spoke flatly, unblinking.

  "Warning: Local ES levels rising at a steady rate." Fenicks said over the intercom. To the side of the forward viewport, a vertical meter appeared with a number displaying ES saturation, reading just above 1%.

  The whelpling tripped and fell, sliding to a stop on the dirt road.

  "You sure this is the right way?" Arminius radioed. "It seems like we're going in the opposite direction."

  The dragonling struggled to get to its feet, exhausted and bleeding.

  Marcus jolted the Firestorm to a stop. He locked eyes with Layne, who was staring at him. Then he reached over and flipped the switch to the intercom.

  "We're taking a detour, stay close." Marcus spoke forcefully then lowered the upright into a crouch.

  Layne hesitated and then turned to the controls and maneuvered the right hand to the ground, palm open and pointed upward. The whelpling turned to the hand, started climbing, but struggled to get its hind legs up. Layne maneuvered the left hand and nudged the whelpling with an extended index finger onto the palm before lifting and returning the arms to a resting position.

  "How much of a detour?" Arminius replied. "We don't have any fuel reserves."

  The whelpling leaned forward in the Firestorm's palm to motion farther down the road. The way ahead was a gradual winding path with a few trees interspersed between each bend. Through the sparse tree line a silhouette stood, roughly as tall as the trees surrounding it.

  "Local ES delta climbing." Fenicks said. The meter on the viewport rose even faster, closing on 3% faster than it reached the 2% mark.

  The dragonling was guiding them toward that silhouette.

  "Not far." Marcus replied over the radio.

  The two stared at the viewport in silence while continuing down the winding road. As they grew closer to the silhouette, the ES meter increased steadily. After the measurement passed 10%, a strange tingle in all of Marcus's fingers and toes set in.

  "ES-field anomaly detected, engaging stabilizer." Fenicks said.

  Slowly the sensation in Marcus's feet and hands subsided. He navigated the Firestorm at a steady pace. After the last bend, the figure came into view. It was an upright.

  "Identifying target." Fenicks said.

  Layne's posture became rigid as he sat upright. Then he swallowed hard.

  After the Hastatus rounded the last row of trees, Arminius radioed. "What's going on here?"

  Marcus looked at the blood pooling from the dragonling's wounds on the Firestorm's palm. It started having a hard time holding itself up, leaning against the machine’s index finger and laying on the thumb.

  His thoughts wandered to Ishild, the dragon rider girl and wondered what happened to her. "There’s a problem this way."

  "What?" Arminius's tone was uncharacteristically wild.

  "Target identified." Fenicks said over the intercom. "Opposition upright, third age clockwork machine. Working identifier: Ironhide. No model number on record."

  The machine's torso was half-cylindrical. The forward of its body was partitioned, a sharp edge to its direct front. The head was an elongated pyramid covered by an oblong dome at the top and a horsehair like blade that ran the length from front to back. At the square feet of the Ironhide were multiple people scrambling around. On the side of the road, jabbed into the ground was a black bull standard. These were the same group that Marcus saw attacking the gold dragon in the river.

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  "You think those are Arcadians?" Layne looked over his shoulder.

  "That standard is not of Arcadian origin." Fenicks spoke abruptly over the intercom.

  A lone soldier climbed up the front of the Ironhide as if he were scaling a cliff. Then he squeezed himself into a gap between the body and head."

  "I got a bad feeling." Marcus said. "Get ready."

  Two dozen men near the Ironhide filed into two rows and shouldered their rifles. Beside them, two wheeled cannons with four cannoneers each pivoted to point at the Firestorm.

  "Halt!" A voice boomed from within the Ironhide. The machine grabbed and readied a two-handed sword from its hip.

  "You did it now, kiddo." Arminius radioed.

  Marcus poured over the controls, looking for the switch to forward the intercom outside. Before he could find the right one, the cannons fired and the Firestorm was rocked by two strikes, once in the leg, the other on the machine's left arm. He panicked and yanked the controls to back away.

  The Ironhide charged forward with sword held overhead.

  Layne flicked his wrist and brought the right arm, holding the dragonling, closer toward the body and rotated the torso, shielding it with the Firestorm's left side.

  "Don't let 'em get behind you or you're done for!" Arminius radioed.

  Before they could react, the Ironhide closed and struck the Firestorm. The horrible shriek of metal against metal filled the cabin. Marcus yelped but the screeching was louder. The Firestorm stumbled back from the hit, staggered into the forest which lined the road, toppling multiple trees.

  The Hastatus rushed forth with sword drawn and struck the Ironhide, which caused the opposing upright to retreat, bathed in a shower of sparks.

  Marcus fought the controls and righted the machine just as it was about to tumble over. The ringing in his ears subsided.

  On the ground, the two cannons pivoted, aiming at the Hastatus. Marcus wasted no time; he downshifted and hurled the Firestorm into the still off-balance Ironhide. It stumbled backward just as the cannons fired, and both batteries shot into its back. A plume of smoke bellowed from the machine's rear, and it fell to the ground.

  The Ironhide fell prone just as the formation of infantry took aim. Seeing the smoking machine gave them pause and the group hesitated.

  Wasting no time, the Hastatus broke into a sprint and leaped over the Ironhide. It slammed both feet into the cannons, flattening them and sending the teams manning them flying. The impact caused the shaken infantry to break formation, dropping their weapons and fleeing.

  The Ironhide burst into flames, still laying prone. Inside, the cries of the pilot boomed out.

  "That's why you watch where your back is pointed." Arminius radioed. The Hastatus pointed its blade at the burning Ironhide.

  Hearing the pilot trapped inside spurred Layne to turn and look at Marcus with a shaken expression.

  "Now, why are we here?" Arminius spoke with an impatient tone.

  Layne drew the right arm forward and looked at the dragonling that was trembling but otherwise just as it was before the battle. It turned and pointed toward a small clearing on the opposite side of the road, beyond the Hastatus, where the cannons were.

  "Show him." Marcus motioned toward their companion upright as he navigated around the Ironhide now engulfed in flames and closed in on his partner.

  Layne nodded and moved the Firestorm's right arm to display the injured whelpling to the Hastatus.

  Arminius groaned over the radio. "I was hoping to have a good day." He turned and pivoted to look deeper into the clearing. "It's leading us this way, let's go."

  The two uprights marched into the forest before reaching a large grassy mound. It was tall with an unnaturally flat top and defined but gradual, equal slopes. The dirt path that led to it from the road was mostly grown over with foliage.

  The carts caught up to the uprights and trailed behind.

  Coming around the far side of the strange mound, the Hastatus turned and looked down at it. After the Firestorm closed, the dragonling weakly crawled over to the edge of the hand and yelped at the structure.

  "That's what I thought." Arminius sighed over the radio. "Dismount, let's get that thing patched up." The Hastatus fell into a parking squat and Arminius scrambled down the leg-mounted ladder, though its engine stayed idle. “Last thing we need is Aurufia thinking we did this to its baby.”

  Layne lowered the arm to the ground as Marcus brought the Firestorm into a squat.

  "Opening exit hatch." Fenicks said, and the floor near Layne’s feet separated, letting in the morning daylight.

  The two descended to find the dragonling breathing shallowly, draped over the edge of the Firestorm's palm.

  Just as the carts pulled up, Baldmund leaped down and rushed over, eyes widened at the sight. Arminius reached the dragon. He poked and prodded the scales near the wound. The beast let off a weak yelp.

  "You gotta be kidding me." Baldmund ran his fingers through his black hair.

  "Go get the suture kit, it’s been shot." Arminius pointed toward the carts while pouring over the dragonling.

  "Just what we need, a golden dragon furious we killed its baby." Baldmund threw his arm down and did as he was commanded.

  "You know how to patch up dragons?" Layne leaned forward to get a look at the creature but kept his distance.

  "I've wrangled with a few scaled things in the past." Arminius said.

  "It had a rider with it before." Marcus said.

  Arminius motioned with his head toward the strangely shaped mound. "It led us here, probably in there."

  Marcus turned to find a massive metal door embedded in the slope, glistening with a blue hue. A hidden piece of ancient technology embedded in the terrain.

  Patreon and join the community!