Storms of Lazarus (Shadows of Asphodel, Book 2) (24 page)

“Wendel!” Konstantin said.

Wendel didn’t look back. “Yes?”

“We need you.”

Wendel laughed dryly. “I’m in high demand.”

He sprinkled the breadcrumbs onto the grass. Krampus landed and strutted across the muddy footprints of the automaton.

“Come here.” Konstantin flapped his hand. “Help us with the harmonic transmitter.”

“I have absolutely no clue what that means,” Wendel said.

Tesla brushed away his comment. He hadn’t bothered to be irritated by the necromancer, not even when Wendel complained.

“If each automaton has its own frequency,” Tesla said, “there will be no interference.”

“Your necromancy functions on the same principle,” Konstantin said.

Wendel held up his hands. “I will take your word for it.”

Nearby, another pilot leaned against a tree. She spotted Ardis staring and crossed the field. Ardis brushed crumbs from her trousers, climbed to her feet, and held out her hand. The other pilot had a firm handshake.

“You must be Ardis,” said the pilot. She spoke English with an Australian accent.

Ardis nodded. “I didn’t catch your name.”

“Steph,” the pilot said.

“Australian?”

“I am.”

“You’re a long way from home.”

Steph smiled. Sunlight brought out golden glimmers in her brown hair.

“Takes one to know one,” she said.

Ardis glanced at her automaton and patted his hip. “This is Fritz.”

“You named him?” Steph laughed. “I hadn’t thought of that. I suppose it’s best not to get too attached to a prototype.”

Ardis was no stranger to losing things in battle. But battle seemed so far away today.

“Have you heard about the Hex?” Steph said.

“What about it?” Ardis said.

“Rumors say the magic is creeping into Russia.” Steph folded her arms. “Gunpowder doesn’t work for a few miles beyond the border. They say the archmages planned this all along, and the Tsar is less than thrilled.”

Ardis rubbed the back of her neck. “It won’t end the war.”

“Right.” Steph snorted. “I hear the Russians have swordsmen on horseback. Cossacks.”

“Swords can still kill you.”

Steph nudged the automaton with her boot. “But wait until they see the automatons.”

Ardis didn’t mention the clockwork dragon. She wasn’t sure if the archmages wanted everyone to know about it. To fear it.

Carol came running across the grass.

“Gear up,” the archmage said. “Both of you.”

“At the same time?” Ardis said.

Carol grinned. “Cross your fingers. The control systems should be working.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Steph sprinted across the field.

Ardis clambered into her own automaton’s cockpit. She fit her feet and hands into the automaton’s boots and gauntlets. She reached for the ignition by her chest and twisted the key. The automaton rumbled to life.

“Come on, Fritz,” Ardis whispered.

Carol cupped her hands to her mouth. “On my mark!”

Ardis braced herself—any interference would wrench her arms and legs.

“Stand!” Carol said.

Ardis tensed her legs, the muscles in her thighs already aching, and braced herself with giant metal knuckles on the ground. She brought the automaton to its feet. The pneumatics in its joints hummed and hissed.

Steph’s automaton lumbered upright and waved.

Ardis waited for a delayed command, a yank to her arm, but her automaton didn’t budge. Tentatively, she lifted her foot and crunched the grass. The automaton across the field stayed motionless. Which was a first.

“Archmage?” Ardis managed to sound cool and calm. “It appears to be working.”

Carol gave her two thumbs up.

A boom shook the ground. Her heartbeat thudding, Ardis turned around.

The Colossus thundered onto the field, every footfall a minor earthquake, and towered over them all. In the cockpit of the automaton, Natalya saluted the archmages. Awe tightened Ardis’s chest, and she saluted back.

Konstantin punched the air in victory and did a little dance.

Tesla hid his smile behind his hand. “I was right.”

His eyes glistening, Konstantin looked like he wanted to hug the man.

“Yes, Nikola,” he said, “you were. And I’m forever—”

“Sir!” Carol bent over a wireless receiver. “A telegram from the zeppelin.”

Konstantin’s smile wilted. “Yes?

“The Russians are advancing.”

Ardis curled her hands into fists. The automaton’s knuckles glinted in the sun.

“How many Russians?” Konstantin said.

“The zeppelin reports a scouting party,” Carol said. “At least two dozen men.”

Konstantin’s mouth thinned into a grim line. He glanced at the zeppelin.

“Any sign of the clockwork dragon?” he said.

“None.”

“Commander Volkova,” Konstantin said. “I want you to lead the automatons into battle. Drive the Russians back.”

“Yes, sir,” Natalya called down.

The Colossus thudded across the field. Ardis followed in the automaton’s footsteps, Steph marching alongside them. The zeppelin floated above like a silver sentry, though it could do little to help in combat.

Natalya held up a hand. “Wait.”

They hesitated at the edge of the field. Dry winter grasses rattled in the wind. Dark-needed pines bristled ahead.

“Split up,” Natalya said. “Try to flush them out of the forest. I will be waiting.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Ardis said.

Steph saluted and marched into the forest. Twigs crashed underfoot. Branches whipped back into place as her automaton passed. Ardis swallowed, her mouth dry, like she hadn’t drunk a drop from her canteen. The Australian seemed overeager to meet the enemy—an automaton wasn’t a ticket to invincibility.

Ardis lowered her automaton’s head and strode into the forest.

She pushed aside branches with her arms. Needles rained to the ground, and a pinecone pinged off the automaton’s shoulder. The scent of pine sap crept into the cockpit. Even from this height, she couldn’t see far through the gloom.

Ardis stopped and peered through the mist.

There. Ahead. A man in a gray jacket lay on his stomach under the bushes. A Russian. He thought he was hidden.

Ardis wondered what he intended to do, but wasn’t sure she wanted to find out.

She grabbed a fallen branch—more of a log—and held it like a baseball bat. Back in San Francisco, she had never played baseball. None of the boys wanted a girl on their team. Today, however, she had other plans.

When Ardis walked past the Russian, he surged to his feet and unsheathed his sword. Ardis swung the wood in her hands and knocked the blade clean out of his hands. He staggered and braced himself against a tree.

She swung again and hit him in the head. He crumpled to the ground.

Ardis dropped the wood and stared down at the Russian. Had she killed him? She waited until his breath clouded the air.

So the automaton wasn’t quite
that
powerful.

“Hey!”

Ardis straightened, her heartbeat kicking into a higher gear, and turned her head.

Another Russian stood between the trees, brandishing a sword at the automaton. Even from here, she saw freckles speckling his cheeks. He had copper hair and the barest wisp of a beard. More of a boy than a man.

The Russian hefted a stone and hurled it at the automaton. It bounced off the cockpit and left a spiderweb crack in the glass.

Konstantin wasn’t going to like that.

Ardis swung her arms and lunged at the Russian. He bolted through the trees. He was fast, but no man could outrun an automaton. As she closed the distance between them, he glanced over his shoulder, the whites of his eyes flashing. They crashed through the forest. He zigzagged and bolted through the bushes.

She wouldn’t kill him. Just teach him not to run with—

The automaton’s foot jerked forward. Ardis stumbled onto her knee and caught herself on her hand. Her fingers sank into mud. When she looked down, she realized she had blundered straight into a murky swamp.

Breathing hard, the Russian broke into a grin.

He had lured her here. She should have killed him when she had the chance.

When the soldier shouted in Russian, three of his comrades stepped from the trees. Ardis struggled upright, but mud clung to the automaton. Dragging her deeper. She didn’t want to know how far down it went. A log lay halfway across the swamp. She groped for the log, but the rotten wood crumbled into dust.

The Russians advanced on the automaton. Swords gleamed dully in their hands.

Ardis hadn’t taken Chun Yi with her. If she left the automaton, she would be unarmed. And she didn’t know how the Russians would treat her as a prisoner. She was an automaton pilot, an American, a woman—

The copper-haired man tossed another stone at the automaton. It clanged off the metal, though Ardis stopped worrying about dents. The more she struggled to escape, the more the soldiers lost the fear in their eyes.

Mud crept around the automaton. Cold invaded the cockpit.

Think. There was always a way out.

Ardis stopped fighting and lowered her head. She watched the Russians through the corner of her eye. They edged closer. The copper-haired soldier, the boldest, reached out to jab at the automaton with his sword.

That was his mistake.

Ardis lunged and caught the sword. The soldier didn’t let go of the hilt quickly enough. She yanked him within reach. Her fist connected with his chest. He flew back and crashed into bushes, which quivered and stilled.

The Russians stared at the automaton. They had stopped smiling.

Ardis glanced at the sword, like a toothpick in the automaton’s hand, then threw it at them. The blade cartwheeled and buried itself in a tree. Too much power, not enough finesse. Yet again. Ardis raised her fists in a defensive stance.

Time to see how many men she could take on at once.

The three Russians circled Ardis. She twisted, trying to keep them in her sights, but when she saw two of them, the other stalked behind her back. And every move dragged her deeper, murky water sloshing past her chest.

Her heartbeat hammered. The cockpit had gotten pretty damn claustrophobic.

She waited for a Russian to blunder within reach, but they kept back, waiting for her to drown or abandon the automaton.

Mist swirled through the forest. Disturbed by a shadow.

Wendel.

He stepped from the darkness and sliced open a Russian’s throat. The soldier dropped. Blood mingled with mud. Wendel never looked back. He dodged a sword blow, kicked a man, and stabbed the other in the back. One opponent left. Wendel waited for him to attack, then finished him with a slash to the neck.

Ardis waved at him. “Wendel!”

He sheathed his dagger and crouched by the swamp. “Take my hand.”

“What? You can’t—”

Wendel grabbed the automaton’s wrist and strained to drag Ardis from the swamp. His feet slipped out from beneath him. He braced himself against a root, but he had no hope of budging the automaton from the mud.

“Climb out,” Wendel said.

“I can’t,” Ardis said.

His eyes narrowed. “Climb out of the automaton.”

Ardis shoved at the cockpit door, but the thick muck trapped it shut.

“I can’t!” she said. “Find Steph.”

“Steph?”

“The other automaton pilot. We split up.”

Wendel nodded, his jaw taut, and ran back through the forest.

The automaton sank deeper into the swamp. Water lapped at the glass and trickled through the crack into the cockpit. Ardis pressed her hand flat against the fracture, though she knew that was hardly a solution.

Footsteps boomed on the ground. Steph had arrived in her automaton. Wendel ran after Steph and halted her with a shout.

“Watch out for the swamp!” he said. “Let’s not replicate this predicament.”

Relief flooded Ardis. “Give me a hand?”

“My pleasure,” Steph said.

Steph sidestepped nearer to Ardis and crouched. She reached for the trapped automaton. Ardis grabbed her hand. Together, they hauled the automaton from the swamp. Ardis staggered onto solid ground, brought the automaton to its knees, and climbed out of the cockpit. Her legs shaking, she dropped to the ground.

Wendel was at her side in an instant. “Are you hurt?”

“No.” Ardis sucked in a lungful of air. “Christ, don’t tell Konstantin.”

She looked sideways at her automaton, the steel caked with stinking mud.

“I think we have to,” Steph said.

Ardis rubbed her eyes with her knuckles. “Later.”

Wendel touched her shoulder. He waited for her to meet his gaze.

“Are you sure you are all right?” he said.

“Yes,” she said, which wasn’t entirely a lie.

Overhead, a rustling sound rushed over the treetops. Like giant wings. Ardis looked in time to glimpse a flash of red.

“The clockwork dragon,” Wendel said hoarsely.

Ardis scrambled to her feet and climbed back into the cockpit.

“Time to get the hell out of here,” she said.

“The dragon can’t attack us in the trees,” Wendel said. “Remember?”

Ardis slipped her hands into the automaton’s gauntlets and flexed her fingers.

“It can attack the others,” she said.