Marcus watched as Arminius parted the golden dragonling's scales. The Myrmidon pulled out a flattened musket ball embedded in the beast’s flesh with a pair of metal tongs. Then, with Baldmund as his assistant holding the whelpling down, took a large sewing needle and thick thread, and stitched the beast's wounds shut.

  Covered in dragon blood, the Myrmidon stepped back and sighed. "That will have to do. It will live."

  Marcus grumbled, feeling useless just standing there and watching. He rubbed his numbed arms, the strange tingle in his limbs returned after leaving the Firestorm’s cockpit. The sensation now far stronger than before.

  Arminius took a rag and wiped himself down as best as he could before tossing it aside. "You said there was a rider with him?"

  With a nod Marcus balled his hand into a fist a few times, the sensation growing more intense by the moment. "Yeah, back at the wreckage."

  Arminius glanced at the door of the strange mound, then to the dragonling. He pursed his lips and exhaled sharply. "Wasn't in the plan, but no plan survives contact with the enemy." He motioned toward the mound. "Let's go."

  Marcus and Layne followed him.

  "Get suited up." Arminius pointed at Baldmund. "Both of you."

  Baldmund finished wrapping up the leatherbound medical kit and groaned with gritted teeth. "Get the gear." He motioned toward Caeso and then to their cart.

  Scrambling, Caeso untied a leather tarp bound with rope covering the front half of the cart before the Myrmidon's jump box and started pulling out metal armor. Simon and Ekkehard rushed over to help.

  "Go get your guns." Arminius pointed toward the Firestorm, looking at Marcus.

  After retrieving their muskets, Marcus met Layne and Arminius at the massive door of the mound. The structure itself was taller than the Firestorm standing straight up. It was only the thick grass covering the top of the structure which kept it otherwise hidden from sight when looking from the road.

  At a small panel beside the blast door, Arminius crossed his arms and clenched his eyes shut for a moment. "Are we in Kourion Province proper?"

  Marcus blinked and looked at Layne, then thought back to the map on the forward viewport of the Firestorm. "Yes, we crossed over the border just before we made camp."

  With a nod, Arminius waved his hand in front of the small panel, and a series of glyphs appeared. They were strange, foreign, nothing Marcus had ever seen before. The symbols hovered in front of the panel with a dim luminescence. With sharp jabs of his index finger, Arminius skewered the glyphs. Each wobbled and wavered with every punch of the finger and a dull, unstable hum rang out in rhythm with his prodding.

  Finally, he stopped and the panel let off a chirp, then a shrill cry emitted. Overhead, a yellow light spun within a tapered translucent cylinder.

  "Guns up, boys." Arminius drew the pistol on his belt.

  Scrambling to ready his weapon, Marcus cocked the hammer of his musket and held it at the ready, unsure of what was going to happen. "What is this place?"

  With a groan, the doorway started to slide, parting from the middle. Slowly at first, then it shimmied and burst into motion faster.

  "The people who built what we know now as the Dead Cities were no fools." Arminius slowly pivoted his gun toward the parting gateway. "They built many things both wonderful and horrible. And when their civilization began to fall, the leaders with any sense left in them shoved as much of those things and the knowledge of how to use them underground. These armories, there are countless numbers of them, we call them Burrows."

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  Layne readied his weapon then turned his attention to Arminius. "What kinds of things are in a Burrow?"

  A waft of musty air mixed with motor oil and fuel wafted out from the gap in the still-opening doorway.

  "The same kinds of things that took out the ancients in the first place." Arminius brushed past them and walked up to the precipice, keeping himself concealed behind the right side of the sliding gateway. He leaned, dipping his head around the corner, to look deeper in as fast as he could, before yanking himself back, returning to hiding behind the still-moving door.

  Then with a deep breath he raised his gun and threw himself around the corner, weapon pointed at the ready. Not daring to enter, he took stock of the interior. Then he beckoned for the two to follow before crossing the threshold.

  Marcus and Layne followed his lead, keeping their weapons trained forward and ready to fire, standing on each side of the Myrmidon.

  Inside was a giant open area. The interior walls were made of the same material as the water lifter back at the river, but in much better condition. In the middle was a pair of massive inset tracks, as wide as Marcus was tall. On top of the tracks was a rectangular set of scaffolding made of thick metal beams and on top of it, an elongated object covered in some kind of cloth. The object was as long as the Firestorm was tall.

  To their right, a small room with a wide window and a lone passage. To the left, shelving with wooden crates and rounded metal cylinders.

  "They're using this for staging of some kind." Arminius lowered his weapon, looking around. "I have no clue how they got in though."

  "Who?" Marcus kept his musket at the ready, looking around nervously.

  "Whoever that was that attacked us. I don't think it was a coincidence that they were stationed outside." Arminius responded, walking over to the storage area. He prodded at the crates with his fingertips. "Yeah, these were placed here recently."

  Marcus and Layne followed him, walking on the tips of their toes, weapons at the ready.

  Arminius grabbed a dagger from his belt and jabbed it into the crate lid, then lifted it open. Then he chuckled. "Cheeky bastards." He shook his head.

  "What'd you find?" Marcus lowered his weapon and looked at the Myrmidon.

  "Stow that thing." Arminius pointed at Marcus's weapon.

  Marcus was confused by his sudden change of heart.

  Throwing the lid aside, Arminius reached in and pulled out a musket-like weapon. But it had a huge axe head near the shoulder rest. It looked like it could cleave a man in half.

  "What is that?" Layne lowered his weapon.

  "A tonoascia." Arminius looked it over. "Not as fancy as some of the older models, this one looks to have been made after the second opening of the Millennium Gateway." He sized up the axe blade and then looked down the length of the handle and nodded before offering it to Marcus. "A brutal weapon for a more barbaric age."

  Marcus slung his musket over his shoulder. "How do you use it?"

  Arminius pointed at the axe head. "When you're close to your foe you use this end." Then he flipped it over and pointed to a hole at the bottom of the handle, which turned out to be the barrel of a musket. "And if you're far away, you use this end." Finally, he motioned to the bottom edge of the blade, underneath was the trigger. "It requires a little bit of skill, don't lop your arm off."

  Marcus took the weapon then sized it up. It looked to operate just like a musket, but if you flip it over, the weapon was a balanced axe. The lock was a little more simple and low profile. Overall, it was just slightly heavier than the musket.

  Layne followed Marcus's lead.

  "Look here though." Arminius gripped at the axe head of Marcus's weapon and wagged it under the unnatural light being produced from the rectangular candelabras attached to the ceiling. The blade shimmered blue. "Corinthium edge. Even more brutal."

  The Myrmidon looked to the far end of the room toward a small doorway in the corner. "Let's get a move on, find this girl." Marcus and Layne followed.

  As they approached, another panel lit up with more glyphs. Arminius raised his hand to prod the symbols when a snap from the other side of the doorway caused him to hesitate. His brow dipped and he pressed his ear against the black metal of the closed gateway.

  "Take up a position." Arminius pointed toward the massive scaffolding mounted on the tracks, of which the nearest corner was less than a dozen paces from the door.

  Marcus and Layne scrambled and stood behind the cover of the thick vertical beam, one on each side and readied their weapons.

  Arminius punched at the glyphs. Then he waited with grit teeth and a menacing expression pointed toward the wall. With one final prod, the doorway slid open and he brandished his pistol.

  Just as he readied to step through his eyes widened suddenly.

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