Wrath of The Dragon Father

WRATH OF THE
DRAGONFATHER
ZACHARY C. PARKER
Cover by
NSTOR OSSANDN
Dedication
This one is for Robyn, for all the pages weve turned.
Acknowledgements
Id 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. Id 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
CHAPTER 1: CONSTANCE BLAIZE................................................5
CHAPTER 2: KRUEGER..................................................................11
CHAPTER 3: VICTORIA HALEY....................................................15
CHAPTER 4: SAERYN......................................................................27
CHAPTER 5: KRUEGER..................................................................30
CHAPTER 6: SAERYN......................................................................33
CHAPTER 7: CONSTANCE BLAIZE..............................................35
CHAPTER 8: SAERYN......................................................................43
CHAPTER 9: VICTORIA HALEY....................................................44
CHAPTER 10: KRUEGER................................................................56
CHAPTER 11: VICTORIA HALEY..................................................58
CHAPTER 12: SAERYN....................................................................63

CHAPTER 14: BROGAN CORLEY.................................................78
CHAPTER 16: SAERYN....................................................................83
CHAPTER 18: SAERYN....................................................................89
CHAPTER 20: LORTUS...................................................................99
CHAPTER 21: CONSTANCE BLAIZE..........................................103
CHAPTER 22: LORTUS.................................................................107
CHAPTER 23: VICTORIA HALEY................................................112
CHAPTER 24: NIDOBOROS........................................................117
CHAPTER 25: LORTUS.................................................................119
CHAPTER 27: SAERYN..................................................................136
CHAPTER 28: LORTUS.................................................................140

CHAPTER 30: SAERYN..................................................................146
CHAPTER 32: KRUEGER..............................................................152
CHAPTER 34: SAERYN..................................................................163
CHAPTER 35: KRUEGER..............................................................166
CHAPTER 37: LORTUS.................................................................174
CHAPTER 38: BLIGHTERGHAST...............................................176
CHAPTER 40: KRUEGER..............................................................184
CHAPTER 41: LYLYTH..................................................................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 athanctheir core essence. This
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.
This 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. Toruk, 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. This has kept these creatures in remote
wrath of the dragoNfather zachary c. parker
places, vigilant but unmoving. Naturally, then, we couldnt leave

well enough alone. You cant have such fascinating and interesting
monsters and not use them. We had to poke the bear.
This 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. The 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 weve ever given anyone. This was made doubly
challenging by the need to make the story satisfying and selfcontained, a task he achieved beyond all my expectations. That
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.
This shouldnt discourage anyone from taking the plunge,
especially if you happen to enjoy dragons, and particularly if you
want to see dragons chasing trains. Youre in for a wild ride.
Douglas Seacat
Senior Writer and Continuity
PROLOGUE
The necroservitor landed on the cobblestone streets of Skell
just as dusk settled around the Cryxian capital like a shroud. The
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. The servitors wings now twitched uselessly in their
joints with sporadic, jerking movements. The 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 Dragonfathers
lesser priests poured from the citys temples even at this late hour.
The 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. The night wind whistled as it blew through the
eye sockets of the servitors skull, and gusts of ash and grit clung to
and rattled inside the machines 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.
wrath of the dragonfather zachary c. parker
That which Lord Toruk, 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.
The 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. The 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 temples 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. The great
palace of Lord Toruk 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 Toruks
priests would receive it and hear its message, the machine thought
of nothing but completing its goaldelivering 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.
CHAPTER 1:
CONSTANCE BLAIZE
o sign of trouble above, a stern but familiar voice said. Battle

Chaplain Brogan Corley descended the rickety stairs into the hold.
The priest was a veteran among the Churchs 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 ships 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. These 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. The
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
dont want this thing onboard one minute longer than necessary.
A sickly trail of greenish smoke billowed up from the contraptions
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. These toxic fumes are bad
enoughwe 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 ships 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 Morrows name, Corley
said. We trust your instincts.
The machine is failing, Corley, Blaize said.
What? Are you certain?
This energy field it creates, its 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 Dragons
Tongue River, the energy field surrounding the box and rings had
been silver in hue. Now the fields 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. Its
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
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 Corleys conviction restore
her own. As always, my old friend, your faith lends strength to us
all.
There 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. Thamars teeth! the mechanik shouted.
Damned Sancteum modifications! They should stick to praying
and leave the machines to professionals! She gave the towering
warjack a hard kick with her boot. That 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. Weve
heard worse. Ive 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 maam, the mechanik said, still clearly
flustered. She motioned to the pair of Centurions, which included
the one she had recently kicked. They may not pass parade muster,
but these two are as combat ready as I can get them. Theyll 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.
On the other side of the cargo hold, Gallant, Blaizes 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 Gallants hull, a larger version of the
same tome carried by the churchs 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 Trinity of ascendantsKatrena, 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.
That battle along the Dragons Tongue 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.
The 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. They had nearly
exhausted the supply of foul necrotite in the ships hold. The

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. The 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 wont 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. The two of them strode from the hold.
A dozen Precursor knights strode about on the deck, brothers
and sisters armored by their faith. The 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
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.
10
CHAPTER 2:
KRUEGER
Krueger the Stormlord levitated amid the towering obelisks of
Nettles 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 Immorena 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 omnipotentsthe
highest-ranking leaders of the Circle Orborosfor 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.
The 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 druids face and neck, remnants
of past exposure to dragon blight. The 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 Kruegers
command.
What is the meaning of this gathering? Lortus demanded.
The ley lines are plagued with blight, and here I find you, precisely
where you shouldnt be.
Krueger met the omnipotents 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 representsthe 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
12
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 Kruegers 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 omnipotents gaze to
a hunched man swaddled in black robes, leaning heavily on a white
staff. Though 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 dragons 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.
13
Lortus expression soured. Thank 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.
The timing for the ritual was at hand.
14
CHAPTER 3:
VICTORIA HALEY
arching 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 armorfashioned by Artificer General Sebastian
Nemo himselfbuzzed pleasantly in her ears, reminding her of
the resumption of her warcaster talents and her friendship with the
grizzled and eccentric artificer. Though the winter of 609AR was
upon her, the weather of the Wyrmwalls 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 deaths door.
The 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 hadnt 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. The 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. Trying 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. The 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.
Two jacks accompanied the small strike team of CRS rangers
and trenchersher personal Lancer, Thorn, and a battered Ironclad
nicknamed Skillet. Thorn 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 Cygnars trenchers, who had given
16
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 Ironclads boiler to cook their meals.
In no time, the jacks 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 machines cortex somewhat dim-witted compared to others of
its ilk. The 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 Cygnars 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 Thorn.
The 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
Dragons Tongue, 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
17
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 Haleys 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 cant say it feels right, marching off for the
Wyrmwall while the rest of the army is fighting in the Thornwood,
Arlan said, but Im 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. Were going
where we have to be. Thats all. Youll 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. Youre obviously aware of the clash Stryker
had with Terminus? After the lich lord was defeated, Strykers troops
recovered something. An artifact Cryx had been trying to smuggle
home under our noses. He put Blaize in charge of securing it. I
cant explain exactly how I know what I know, but Blaize isnt ready
for the fight thats coming. She needs our help. Theyve kicked a
nasty hornets nest.
The 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
18
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 didnt like being put in the position of being a
prophet. It reminded her uncomfortably of what shed heard of the
Harbinger of the Protectoratea 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 cant
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.
They continued wordlessly for the better part of an hour, until a
sudden sense of apprehension prickled at the back of Haleys 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
halther 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,
19
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.
Thorn 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. The
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. The 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 creatures 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 dragonspawns cleaver-like
arm descended to shear the warjacks right arm off at the elbow. Oil
and hydraulic fluid pumped from the arm like arterial spray as the
20
limb and hammer fell to the dirt. Before the jack or Haley could
react, the second scything talon struck Skillets chassis and punched
through its armored hull with horrifying ease, puncturing the
warjacks boiler. Hot steam burst from the wound with a rushing
hiss.
Feeling Skillets strength already beginning to drop, Haley
mentally guided its remaining hand to catch the beasts counterstrike
mid-swing. The whine of servos and gears meshed with the
guttural growls of the dragonspawn as steam and steel struggled
against muscle and sinew. The jacks 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 wouldnt 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. The other darted directly toward Haley and transitioned
into a leap. From the corner of her eye, she could see Thorn 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. Thorn closed the gap
with a burst of arcane speed in time, and the beast collided with the
jacks heavy shield. The creature held tight to the shield, swiping
its claws over the top.
The second cat-like dragonspawn tackled the nearest trencher
and tore out the mans throat with a single bite. The beast twitched
as bullets from the fallen soldiers companions tore into the exposed
portions of its body, but it kept tearing at the man until Arlan
21
Strangewayes brought the weight of his wrench down to break the

creatures 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. The
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 adversarys face, before
collapsing against its opponent. The beast shrugged off Skillets
feeble embrace, sending the machine clattering to the ground.
With the Ironclad out of commission, the beast turned on
Strangewayes. The 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. Haleys blood went cold as
she realized the mechanik would be torn apart. With Skillet out of
the fight and Thorn 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 beasts 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. Their
blood would be on her hands.
As the scythes completed their motion, Arlans body suddenly
faded, becoming insubstantial. The 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.
22
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. The 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 womans back like
crackling blue wings. The newcomer had gray hair, her face clearly
older. Despite the goggles concealing her eyes, Haley recognized
herself in the strangers face. The 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.
The 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 didnt understand how,
she had been given a second chance to save the mechaniks 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. This was a young woman, clothes tattered
23
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. Haleys heart stopped. This time she was certain
the face was her own from years pasta reflection she knew as
intimately as her own soul.
The 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. The 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.
Together, the remaining soldiers had joined with Thorn to
dispatch the last of the beasts. The skirmish was over. The survivors
gathered around the transparent specters whose sudden arrival had
prevented further losses. Haley knew what the others didnt: both
of the spectral forms were iterations of herself, as if drawn from the
mists of time. The girl was a phantom from her youth, when her
powers had been newly awoken. She stood resolute and with an
almost cocksure attitude. The older woman she knew must have
been drawn from some possible futurethe 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
24
herself. The girls 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. There was willfulness there,
but Haley sensed the girl would obey her mental commands in
battle much as Thorn 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. Theyre projections. Echoes. Versions of
me from times 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. There 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.
The task complete, Haley staggered back and leaned against
the base of a nearby tree. Though Future had invoked the magic,
Haley had felt the drain herself, a dull throbbing beginning in her
25
temples. They 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.
Im 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. The
projections were gone for now, but she felt certain she could will
them back into existence when she had the need. They 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. The last wisps of steam escaped from the
Ironclads damaged chassis with a whimper. I dont claim to have
the slightest notion of what it is that just happened, Strangewayes
said, but there isnt any chance you could do me a favor and put
Skillet back together? Would save me a lot of time and headache.
No? Didnt think so.
26
CHAPTER 4:
SAERYN
aeryn 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 dragons mind
pressing on her own, impatient and eager. The boat was near. Its
prize was close.
Dozens of dragonspawn rushed through the trees alongside her,
driven by the same all-imposing will. Saeryns 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. This glory shall be ours alone.
Rhyas put on an extra burst of speed and pulled well ahead of
the pack. For weeks, Everblights legion had pursued the athanc
shard held by Cryxian forces. Following the clash between Cryx
and Cygnar, the athanc had changed hands. Though their quarry
was different now that others possessed the shard, their ultimate
goal was the same.
Everblights presence filled Saeryns mind in a way that was
intrusive and unavoidable. The dragon gazed through her eyes and
the eyes of her sister, consumed with the desire to attain his prize.
The 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 dragons attention was elsewhere; she
did not savor this synergy as some of Everblights 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 Everblights influence. Through their unique connection as
twins, she could also shield her sisters 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 Everblights
intruding consciousness.
What of Lylyth and Bethayne? Rhyas asked, her voice
projecting into Saeryns mind via their telepathic link. What of
Kallus? Should we not wait for them and strike in force?
These Cygnarans will eventually be reinforced or will find more
secure shelter, Saeryn answered mentally. There is no time to wait
on those who have fallen behind.
As you say, sister, Rhyas said. Her trust in her twins judgment
was, as always, absolute.
28
The 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 Everblights 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.
29
CHAPTER 5:
KRUEGER
Thick 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 Kruegers
service. The 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 circles center, the eye of the storm above him as
well as below.
If the druids were conduits, Krueger was the focal point. The
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 circles edge, the mottled figure of Blighterghasts
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 mans eyes and onto the
unfolding scene, eager for the rituals conclusion and the initiation
of the hunt for Everblights warlocks.
The 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 Tharn
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. The
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 minds 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.
The 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. The gentle patter of the rain marked
the slow seconds.
31
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 Toruk.
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. These were the reverberations from the divided shards
of Everblights shared athanc. Their call began the hunt that would
be their undoing.
32
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. Terrible as such feelings were, she knew the worst was
yet to come. The 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 dont 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. The 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. This 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 Everblights fractured essence.
Saeryn felt the dragons anxiety at this revelation; it crushed
down upon her like a mountain. There 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.
The voice of Everblight made the decision for her as it spoke
within the base of Saeryns mind.
RETRIEVE THE SHARD.
34
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.
The trenchers swept their rifles over the open sky for additional
threats. What worried Blaize wasnt 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. To 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. The second horror swept along the
side of the ship and from its maw unleashed a torrent of blue flame
that consumed several trenchers. Those 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. The smell of charred flesh filled the
air.
The sailor at the ships 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. The ship lurched suddenly to
the side. The vessel rose and tilted at an alarming angle as it veered
toward the rocky riverbank, and those onboard fought to maintain
their footing.
The impact, underscored by the sound of splintering wood,
rocked the whole of the ship. The hull cracked and strained as the
vessel collided with the promontory of stone at the rivers edge.
The uppermost reaches of the rocks sheared away the railing and
portions of the deck. The 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.
The voice of Chaplain Corley carried over the screams of the
dying as he addressed the Precursor knights. Form ranks and lock
shields! The beasts come around for another pass!
The 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 Blaizes 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.
The mechanik Reynolds had ridden the lift beside the warjacks and
36
now joined the defense, a wrench in one hand and a pistol in the
other.
Trenchers fired as fast as they could reload while the seraphs
circled above and dive-bombed the vessel in tandem. The
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 Blaizes outstretched hand, and a blast of
holy light engulfed the winged abominations. Their 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. Two 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
assaultthe dragonspawn answered to their will.
She issued a mental command to the Centurions and positioned
them to receive the incoming charge. The 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.
The 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. Though the blessings of Morrow aided their cause, the
37
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.
The 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 Blaizes direction, wading into the enemy
with sword and buckler. Broad strokes from the warjacks blessed
weapon cleaved into the spawn, eviscerating torsos and sending
limbs to flop on the vessels planks with their last spasms of life.
The jacks 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
hershe 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.
The knights blessed weapons swept down to crack the thick
carapace armor of their foes, and prayers to Morrow rose up and
38
down the line. Among them, a knight cried out line after line of the
Enkheiridiontheir most holy tomeand 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 mans 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.
The 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 warcasters 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 Blaizes 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 Blaizes shoulder with her blade, spinning her about and
stealing her balance. A second strike threatened to separate Blaizes
head from her shoulders, and she barely raised her shield in time
to deflect the blow. Steel rang on steel. The Nyss probed Blaizes
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 jacks
39
steam engine filled the air as it headed for the elusive spellcaster.
The 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 Blaizes soldiers lay dead or
dying. The 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 Gallants 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 Blaizes 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. The 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.
The young woman chased after them with her fists poised to deliver
another strike, and she didnt give Blaize so much as a passing
glance.
Another familiar figureclad in exotic voltaic warcaster
armorfloated over the railing. She immediately delivered bolts of
arcane energy at the dragonspawn. Though her face was obscured
beneath a cowl and goggles and her hair was gray, she still resembled
Major Victoria Haley, at least in Blaizes mind. Her confusion was
40
compounded when yet another figureone she knew to be Major

Haleyclimbed 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 Blaizes 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
were a long way from Point Bourne.
Therell be time for explanations later, Haley replied. Right
now, I think we have more pressing matters to attend to.
The 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 others 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.
The 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.
The Nyss then came at Haley and Blaize as a pairthe
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. The Nyss kicked the base of Blaizes shield,
driving it downward, and at the same moment launched a sword
41
strike over the top to cut through the power field and land a hit on
the warcasters shoulder. Warm blood ran down Blaizes arm and
pooled within her armor, but she ignored the pain and continued
to trade strikes. She managed to strike her opponents side, carving
a deep gash in the Nyss flesh. As soon as the wound appeared,
however, it closednearby, 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 thendeep and powerful, like the
one Blaize had heard just before the assault began. The 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.
42
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 Everblights
athanc. Realization struck her like a bolt.
Charsaug was but one element of a larger, coordinated effort.
Throughout western Immoren, Everblights warlocks found
themselves beset by dragons, pursued by snapping jaws and gouts
of flame. The pulse that had struck Everblights divided athanc had
signaled the location of each of his warlocks. Those 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. There were no weapons with which to deter
its pursuit, no way to escape its predatory gaze.
There was nothing to do but run.
CHAPTER 9:
VICTORIA HALEY
he dragon chased the Nyss, and Haley watched it disappear

from sight.
Turning, she descended into the ships hold alongside Blaize,
Strangewayes, and her ranger sergeant. There 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.
The hold had been completely ruptured by the sharp boulders
upon which it had run aground. The 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. Their contents were strewn across the surface of the
rising water. While the loss of supplies was worrisome, it was the
Cryxian artifact that drew Haleys attention.
You said it had a dozen steam engines, but I still didnt imagine
it being so large, Haley said, staring at the wagon and the rings
and cube that hovered above it. They 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. The
smell of necrotite smoke was strong, and the stench made Haleys
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.
Took some damage when you ran aground, Strangewayes
said. He pointed to a pair of engines on the wagons 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. This
certainly doesnt help.
The amount of power flowing into the containment field is
considerable, Strangewayes said, examining the wagons 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.
These were modified from burning coal originally. Looks like
Rhulic design, then converted to Cryxian. They were able to get
away with a degree of redundancy since necrotite burns so hot and
for so long. These are essentially crude arcane turbines. Could get
by with half as many engines, most like. Id say this was originally
intended for extended storage rather than transportation. The
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. Two hours. Maybe three.
Certainly no more than four.
Morrow shield us, Blaize said. First dragonspawn, then an
actual dragon, and now this.
45
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. Couldnt we shovel coal
into the engines instead?
Wouldnt burn hot enough, Strangewayes replied. Not after
the changes they made. The modified hoppers are too narrow and
the furnaces are too small to hold sufficient coal. There would have
been less redundancy in the old systemthey would have needed
more engines running at once. We cant just change them back.
Wed not generate enough power.
Arlan, youre one of the top arcane mechaniks in western
Immoren. Tell me youve got something to keep that reputation
alive, Haley said.
I have an idea, Strangewayes said, but you arent 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.
Traditional 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.
Blaizes brow furrowed. Are you suggesting we remove the
arcane turbine from my armor and use it to power the field?
I cant make any promises, but I might be able to use your
turbines to rig a temporary containment field. It wont be as
powerful as the one we have now, but it would require far less fuel,
46
and itd be portable for overland travel. Haley hadnt been thinking
of how badly damaged the ship was, but she realized Strangewayes
assessment was accurate. The river was growing more turbulent
with every mile deeper into the Wyrmwall. The idea of patching
the boat and continuing onward wasnt 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. The
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. Dont
tell me you want to remove that thing from the containment field.
I cant tell you whats inside, but I can tell you its dangerous.
Whoever went through the trouble to imprison it this way did so
for a reason.
In a few hours, it wont 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 Blaizes face. She knew
the knights 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 Blaizes shoulder. We
understand your concerns, but I trust Arlans 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 Haleys rangers came forward, a patch of bloody fabric
wrapped about his head. Orven is less than twenty miles from our
47
current location if we cut through a pass known to us. Its usually

snowed in by this time of year, but the winter has been mild. I
bet its open. If we manage to avoid any delays, we can make it by
sundown at the pace Major Haley sets.
Haley waved away Blaizes questioning look. I have the means
to expedite our travel. Its complicated, but thats 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. Id 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. The 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. The damaged engines had died, and now and then, the color
48
of the energy field shifted from its sickly yellow to a translucent

white and back again. The arcane turbine of Blaizes armor had
been repurposed along with the attached steam engine to generate
a new power field. The warcaster had donned her armor once again.
Bereft of the arcane turbines 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 artifacts existing field.
This 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. The 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. The
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. There was an extended
hiss, like a train might expel upon rolling to a stop, and the glow
of the engines died. The containment field flickered and faded, and
in the next moment the cube toppled from the air. It collided with
49
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. The 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. The necrotite engines ticked softly as they
cooled, and an oppressive silence filled the hold. Beneath her
armor, Haleys 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. The whole of
the objects 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. There were no catches or handholds visible. She
lifted a finger to trace one of the runes along the side. The ethereal
form of Future materialized beside her, and although no words
50
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. The
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 Toruk, 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. There 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
anticipationeach shard formed a draconic body, each a unique
51
interpretation and altered reflection of her own image.

Then Haley realized that she was no longer within Toruk but
was instead looking up at his gargantuan form.
From Toruks 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! The fire in their athancs
flared and would not be denied. Toruk had made a grave error.
Wreaths of flame and smoke obscured Haleys vision as they rose
against their creator. Claws mangled membranous wings, and teeth
tore through flesh. Blood and fire rained from the skies as Toruk
devoured several defiant offspring, reclaiming their essence. Then
those remaining fled, scattering to the corners of the world.
Time 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. Through her imperishable heartstone, she sensed her
brethren and knew that each was hunted in turn. Pursued until
Toruk, their father, would devour them one by one. And despite
their battles, Toruk retained the majority of his strength.
Centuries went by in the dark as Haleys 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 Toruk
could be defeated. Alone, she met Toruk in battle. She would show
her kin their creator was not invincible. With slashing claws and
bursts of flame, she brawled with Toruk across the continent. She
hoped to stir the courage of the others of her kind and was willing
52
to risk her annihilation to do so. She managed to land a grievous

blow, and they all saw their creators ancient blood spill across
the land like a tidal wave. Despite the injury, Haley felt Toruks
jaws close over her throat, and with a twist of the neck, the young
dragon snapped. Her body fell limp. The 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 Toruk 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 calland an
underground chamber beneath the ice. Together, they forged a
vault. Thick layers of different metals formed its outer walls, the
very same walls Haley now touched. The athanc was set inside, and
the metal cube was sealed. The 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.
Though 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. They gathered their strength and struck
in a coordinated attack on their father. Their battle ignited the
skies, and in the end, the Dragonfather withdrew, retreating to the
islands of Cryx to form his new empire.
Then, even this thread of contact was severed, and her prison
was complete. Haleys mind brooded tirelessly and timelessly
53
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. The 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
hopelesser mortals defeated the servants of Toruk, 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.
The vision did not end there. The 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. The 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.
The 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. The athanc
pulsed with energy. A look of agony marked the Nyss face. The
horns on her forehead had nearly doubled in size, and spines now
54
protruded from her arms. She looked over her shoulder as though
watching a pursuer and then hurried onward.
There 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 youve just seen a
good-natured Khadoran.
A dragon, Haley said. The cube is a prison for the athanc of
a dragon.
55
CHAPTER 10:
KRUEGER
Youre hiding something. The words came from the dragons
emissary. The mans 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? The emissarys eyes were filled with a baleful intensity
that demanded caution. Were he to lose the dragons trust, his life
would be forfeit.
Krueger knew what the emissary spoke of. The 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. Their Order had labored and risked much to keep that
athanc from the grasp of Everblight, knowing it would rejuvenate
and sustain him. Kruegers 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. The last
thing he wanted was for the dragons of Blighterghasts 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. There are bound to be irregularities. I advise ignoring
the anomaly, at least until the foe we plot against is defeated.
The 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 Blighterghasts 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 Blighterghasts 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. The
first pulse had set the hunt in motion. The second would bring
Everblights servants to their knees.
57
CHAPTER 11:
VICTORIA HALEY
Whatever 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 chaplains gaze to
the junior mechanik. He was right. The girls color was off, almost
ashen, and her steps were sluggish and unsteady.
Even expedited by Haleys time dilation, the path to Orven was
hard going. Their route did not follow a well-established road. They
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. The 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. The junior mechanik had
leapt at the opportunity to serve beside Strangewayes, his reputation
having made him something of a legend among gearheads. The
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. Ive seen necrotite poisoning before, Blaize said. As
terrible as its fumes are, its victims will respond to healing. These
are the effects of concentrated dragon blight.
The athanc, Haley said. Its probably affecting us all.

Blaize nodded. From what Ive studied, mild blight doesnt
necessarily cause lasting harm, and the body sometimes recovers
in time. But its 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. The 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.
The power field isnt strong enough, Haley said. The dragons
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 Haleys battles against Cryx, she had seen countless blighted
individuals, those warped by the presence of Toruk even when living
dozens of miles away. It was said Toruks 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
Toruks realm, a place where the living were second-class citizens.
Well be in Orven soon, Blaize said. We can leave the most
59
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, Im 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. They 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. The towns. The fields. The 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. The world
aflame as dragons warred overhead, bringing ruin to everything.
Take 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.
This 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.
Tell 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 Blaizes
60
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.
The 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. The mortal soul can always upset the balance
of fate, no matter how weighted the outcome may seem. I will not
resign myself to defeat. There 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 warcasters optimism. The 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. The 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. The districts to the north
61
held more in common with the cities of Rhul, marked with more
square-built and stout structures made for function as well as
form. Those 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 Haleys 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. Ill 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. Well 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.
62
CHAPTER 12:
SAERYN
espite the dragons might, Saeryn decided Charsaug was

incredibly dim-witted. Early in the dragons pursuit, Saeryn had
contemplated splitting up from her sister to ensure one or the
others survival. She now found their duality was their greatest
defense. The 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 Charsaugs pursuit. The dragon might have been
an annihilator of armies, but against a pair of swift and small Nyss,
it was easily confused and misled. The 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. The 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.
There was a cave system nearby that ran deep into the Wyrmwall.
If the pair could lose the dragons 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. Thagrosh 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 Everblights 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 didnt 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. Then, with a full beat of its wings, the dragon rushed off,
moving southwest with haste.
Why does he flee? Rhyas asked, returning to Saeryns 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. The dragons
new prey might be another of Everblights chosen, though she did
not think so. Regardless, better anyone else than her or her twin.
64
CHAPTER 13:
VICTORIA HALEY
pon arriving at Orvens 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 Orvens 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 shed spent living within the
walls of the Morrowan abbey that had taken her in after the death
of her parents. The nuns had been kind enough, but they hadnt
understood her budding powers, and shed 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.
The 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. The dwarven enclave occupied the highest
tiers; the guard captain explained that nearly half of the dwarven
complex was underground. The architecture of the uppermost tiers
was noticeably different, taking on the aesthetic of the cities of
Rhul. Haley recalled a lesson shed received during her training
at the Strategic Academy on the history of architecture as it
pertained to war. The 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. Thicker walls and scores of cannons
became the standard, and these features were equally represented in
the construction of the enclave at Orven.
The 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. The 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. Turrets outfitted
with chain guns, cannons, and storm towers were affixed to the
66
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.
Isnt she just the most beautiful thing youve 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 wasnt in the military, hed likely have gotten a job at one of
the railway companies.
Looks like weve found our ride, Blaize said.
Haley nodded. Come on. Lets go have a word with the
conductor and convince him we need to leave as soon as were
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 Third 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 mans demeanor.
67
Pardon, Haley said, drawing the conductors 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 Cygnars borders were owned and operated by
private companies rather than the military itself, and their crew was
made up of company employees. The conductor was the head of
the crew, responsible for overseeing cargo, the integrity of the cars,
and the disposition of passengers. The 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, and it was in his best interests to cooperate.
Major, the conductor said, checking the insignia on Haleys
shoulder. How can I help you?
We have critical cargo we need to transport east.
What kind of cargo, Major? the conductor asked.
The kind that needs some big guns to watch over it, Haley
said. Judging from your armament, Id say youre the ride we were
hoping to find. This is a high-priority situation. We may have to
displace some of your existing cargo and passengers, if need be. We
also need to leave at once. As both a major and a warcaster, it was
within Haleys authority to make such demands.
Well, I hate to disappoint you, Major, but for the moment,
were not going anywhere. The Ladys 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, Id say we
wont be going anywhere for a few hours at least, maybe longer.
Youre more than welcome to wait it out.
Haley tapped her fingers on the shaft of her spear and considered
the options. Shed been on edge since her visions on the ship and
wasnt keen to sit in any given place for too long. The image of
Orven burning still haunted her thoughts, not to mention concern
68
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.
With pleasure, Strangewayes said, and the smile on his face
told Haley he meant it.
We cant linger here, Haley confided to Blaize.
Im 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. There 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. The 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.
The alarm, Haley said. Sentries must have spotted something.
Come on.
From where they stood, they couldnt 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.
The way they moved made Haley think of the way small schools of
69
fish moved. They swarmed this way and that as they tried to escape
something larger than themselves.
A 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. Haleys 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. The
darkness that had surrounded her and her party was closing in,
tightening like some great noose.
Three beats of the dragons wings brought it over the sprawling
mining camps surrounding the city. There was a brilliant light as
it unleashed a torrent of flame from its maw, reducing a crowd of
fleeing workers to ash. Two more beats and it was at the southern
wall. Gunfire erupted along the defenses, but the effort sounded
feeble compared to the dragons roar. Another burst of flame
consumed the defenders manning the southern gate, and a passing
flick of the dragons 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, thenwith a single snap
of its jawsit 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
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.
The dragon from the river, Blaize said. Her face fell as she
70
looked toward the artifact. It must be after the athanc.

Yes, Haley said, but it doesnt 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. Those
Storm Striders, they can be detached?
Aye, Major, the stormsmith replied.
See that its done. Send your commanding officer my way.
Morrow be damned if we are going to sit here on our asses while
Orven burns. The 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
dont have any hope of besting a dragon, Blaize said, scanning the
fires burning beyond.
I dont 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 its after?
I guess youd 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? Dont tell me hours.
71
Strangewayes wiped the sweat from his brow and twisted his
massive wrench against something fitted to the underside of the
train. It wont 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 whats
happening behind me?
As he looked past her, it was Strangewayes turn to raise an
eyebrow. Maybe fifteen minutes, Major. If you dont mind it being
held together by spit and grease.
Fifteen it is, Haley said. Well be leaving in a hurry, needless
to say. If this thing stops moving, well 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, Time to double down.
Haley and Blaize clung to the Storm Striders platform as the
machine carried them from the train and down Orvens streets. A
pair of stormsmiths worked to both steer the Strider and control
the flux of energy flowing through its core. Under Haleys orders,
they had overclocked the voltaic generators and harmonized their
output to produce a more powerful effect. The additional strain on
the machine would lead to the hardware rapidly burning out, but
Haley didnt 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 crackled with excess voltaic energy
72
that pushed their design to its limits. To 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 dragons position. Moving
in a column would have been recklessthe battle could end far too
fast if they werent 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 for organizing the trains defenses in her
stead. Warjacks and Cygnaran troops had been taking up positions
along the length of the Lady Warthunder as theyd departed.
The gathering storm clouds had coalesced and further darkened,
and a light rain had started down on the city. Despite the reduced
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 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 than matchsticks. When the debris
cleared, the visage of the dragon hunkered down at the end of the
street, its eyes fixed on Haleys 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. The beast
opened its maw to the point of nearly unhinging its jaw, and a fiery
glow bloomed in its throat.
Hard left! Haley pointed 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 cant bring
73
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 machines movements.
Lending speed to something so large took considerable effort, but
under her guidance, the pistons of the Striders 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 dragons 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. The dragons name was Charsaug.
I dont 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. Talons swept down to strike one of the other Storm
Striders, cleaving the arcane core from atop the platform. There
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.
74
The remaining Striders emerged from the surrounding streets

to discharge one voltaic blast after the next at Charsaugs towering
frame, and under the combined assault, the dragon staggered
backward, crushing a church and several homes as it backpedaled.
Despite the dragons 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.
Id say weve 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. The 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 Striders platform. A shadow
eclipsed the Strider, and for a moment the rain ceased, blocked by
the dragons massive body as it passed overhead. Charsaugs speed
was astonishing, and all Haley could do was watch in horror as the
75
dragon wheeled about in the air and prepared to make another pass.
The 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 dragons 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.
The 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. Haleys
Storm Strider lurched forward and again made for the train with
an additional burst of mobility from Haleys 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. The 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. The Strider turned onto the next street over, cutting
off the view of the flames.
76
A grating sound followed a number of loud pops from the

Striders core, and the stormsmiths exchanged looks of concern.
The strain of running so hot was beginning to compromise the
machines storm chamber, but they couldnt 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.
Were almost there! Blaize shouted over the escalating grinding
of the Striders 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.
77
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 jacks backside. When he had last stepped inside,
the soft glow of Skillets furnace had partially illuminated the dark
interior, which remained stoked in case they needed to relocate the
athanc. Strangely, the warjacks furnace was now dark.
Corley took his mace in hand and approached warily. The 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
fields generator. A metallic clang filled the car, and the wrench left
another mark in a series of dents on the generators 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.
The wrench flew from the junior mechaniks 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 Corleys 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
79
moment and then fell silent. Before Corely could react, the steady
thrum of the containment field ceased.
The silence that followed was like that of a tomb. The only
sounds were of the mechaniks heavy breathing and the pounding
of Corleys 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.
80
CHAPTER 15:
VICTORIA HALEY
harsaug 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.
Theres only one thing that could have captured his attention, she
said.
The dwarven cannons positioned along the citys upper tiers fired
relentlessly at the swooping dragon, but he pressed on, refusing to
be deterred from his course.
The train, Blaize said. Well be arriving at a massacre. The
dragon will tear the rail yard to pieces and everyone in it. And well
lose the athanc for certain.
Haley cursed herself once more for bringing the athanc within
Orvens walls. The 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 Cygnars 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 Orvens southern
district. Though their size could not rival that of Charsaug, each
was easily as large as any of the citys structures. They moved with
the same graceful menace, and as they passed overhead, Haley
caught sight of the Nyss riding atop two of their number.
The warlocks from the river, Blaize said as the dragonspawn
passed overhead, their flight path clearly taking them toward the
rail yard. Theyre here for the athanc.
Perfect, Haley said. As if one dragon wasnt enough. She
turned and shouted over the whining Storm Strider engine to the
controller stormsmith. Get us to the rail yard!
The stormsmith grinned, Fast as lightning, maam!
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.
82
CHAPTER 16:
SAERYN
Saeryns grip on the spines of the archangel tightened as they swept
over the burning Cygnaran city. Although the dragonspawn werent

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 Charsaugs sudden appearance. To support
their attack, Lylyth had sent them the archangels when they had
decided to press ahead of the others.
These 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. The 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.
There, Saeryn said, pointing to the train. They must plan to
take it from the city.
Rhyas unslung her weapon, Antiphon, and held the blade before
her at the ready. What now?
The Cygnarans wont 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
Everblights talons.
84
CHAPTER 17:
VICTORIA HALEY
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 trains 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 Charsaugs snapping maw. They tore
into Charsaugs wings and clawed at his eyes, aiming to harm those
portions of the dragons anatomy most vulnerable and vital to its
defense.
What in Morrows 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, Ill 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 Charsaugs 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
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. The 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, 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
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,
and the mechanik was fiddling with the blowtorch in his hand.
Dont tell me were still waiting on repairs, she said, restraining a
growl of displeasure.
Fine, I wont tell you, Strangewayes said, keeping his attention
on the work at hand. I take it from the ungodly noise out there
86
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.
Somethings happened to the containment field, Haley said.
The dragon knows the athanc is here. Listen, when you get this
thing moving, dont wait for orders. Just get us out of here.
Got it, Strangewayes said. Tell the lads to keep that winged
monstrosity off the train for a few more minutes, and Ill 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. Were leaving. Without waiting for a
response, she started down the length of cars.
What now? Blaize asked, keeping pace at Haleys side.
We need to examine the athanc and assess the situation, Haley
said.
They spotted Brogan Corley heading their way at a jog, a
distressed look on his face.
We have a problem, Corley said. Its Reynolds. Shes sabotaged
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 weve lost
it.
See that shes 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.
87
We must exercise the upmost caution, Blaize said. If the field

is down, theres no telling how the athanc might affect the crew.
My instinct tells me its no accident Reynolds lost control.
Agreed, Haley said.
They 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.
They were on the move at last.
88
CHAPTER 18:
SAERYN
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 archangels 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 Charsaugs
scales, but the breath of the dragonspawn had no effect. The
same could not be said for the breath of Charsaug. A font of the
dragons flame had already caught Saeryn once, crippling one of her
archangels wings. While Saeryn had been spared from the dragons
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. Saeryns
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 Charsaugs face to distract the dragon while she and Rhyas
swept in from behind. The claws of their archangels tore into the
membrane of Charsaugs wings before the pair quickly retreated
once more, fighting against the driving rain to gain altitude.
Already Charsaugs wings were littered with a dozen such cuts and
tears, but the wounds only seemed to stoke the dragons rage. They
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. They targeted Charsaug, but
Saeryn had to weave her mount around the streams of incoming
fire. Together, she and Rhyas doubled back to strike at the wings
of their enemy.
A combination of talons, blades, and spells opened new gashes
along Charsaugs wings, and Saeryn felt a swell of pride as they
cleared the dragons reach once more. The 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 beasts head
clean from its shoulders with a swipe of his claws.
The train bearing the athanc had gained momentum and now
rolled away from the rail yard. The corners of Saeryns lips twitched
in a brief smile. With the train underway, she only had to hold
Charsaugs attention a little longer. As she watched another series
of explosive Rhulic shells hammer against the dragons 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.
They 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. The halves tumbled, entrails following behind with Rhyas
in tow, cascading toward the cobbled streets.
90
Ashnephos, Charsaugs 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.
The 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 sisters fall. Rhyas swung herself
onto the archangel and wrapped her arms around Saeryns 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.
91
CHAPTER 19:
VICTORIA HALEY
aley 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 Pendrakes 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. The 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.
Id find that more interesting, Haley said, if we didnt have to
face both of them.
The Lady Warthunder picked up speed, and those aboard
witnessed Charsaugs 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.
Those who had escaped the flames now fell to the ground with their
hands at their throats, gasping for clean air. Together, 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 arent out of the woods yet! When
they get on top of us, give them everything youve 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 Thorns 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. The 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. The Lady Warthunder was nearing its top
speed, and they would still be overtaken within moments.
Haley positioned herself at the center of the car. The visions
shed 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 cars 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
93
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. The 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. They 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. The 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. The smoke pouring from the locomotives stacks
seemed to hang in the air behind them as her spell manipulated the
passage of time. The rocky landscape on either side of the tracks
gave way to open air, and the rush of the river sounded from below.
They were traversing the bridge.
The dragons came on, but outside the time bubble, their
movements seemed slow and sluggish, as if they flew through a thick
and viscous liquid. The 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 Charsaugs snout, provoking more of a reaction. Charsaug
veered off, agitated by the modern weaponry, but Ashnephos was
94
not deterred. The dragons jaws opened and snapped together to

shear off the back half of the rearmost car in a show of sparks and
screeching metal.
The 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 harms 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 Haleys forearm. Come on, Blaize said as she
hauled Haley up from the dragging car. The 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. The 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. The 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! The bridge wont
hold!
Together, Haley and Blaize sprinted over the cars. As they went,
Haley urged the soldiers atop the rear cars to abandon their posts
and run. There was a sharp snapping sound, and the train beneath
them listed to one side before righting itself. The disturbance was
enough to throw several trenchers over the side and send others
rolling across the roofs. More sounds followedlike the snapping
95
of trees over the knees of giantsand 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. The
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. The cars and rails and burning supports
crowded her mind. There 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. The collapse was
unfolding at half-speed before her eyes. Those 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.
The projection of Past materialized beside her and darted for the
falling cars. Again, she seemed linked to Haleys emotional state,
conjured by her distress. Runes surrounded the youths 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.
96
No! Haley cried, extending a gloved hand in the direction of

the lost cars. The 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.
The 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. They 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
97
immediately. Haleys 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. The
dragon dove into the shallow pass, and what remained of the Lady
Warthunders defenses opened fire.
Thorn moved through the incorporeal form of Future with a
hiss and clank to stand before Haley, its shield raised in a protective
stance. The sight of the warjack was reassuring, and Haley gave a
nod, which was more to herself than to Thorn or the projections.
She focused her thoughts and willed the temporal distortion
surrounding the train to hold.
Flashes of arcane energy shot from Pasts fingertips and passed
through Thorns arc node to strike at Charsaug, hitting the dragon
with a series of blasts. In response, Charsaug expelled another bout
of flame, which Thorn leaned into to shield Haley with its body,
while the blaze passed harmlessly through the bodies of Past and
Future. The 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.
98
CHAPTER 20:
LORTUS
ortus 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 Giants Bane to those in the far east, followed close behind,
talons and scales glinting like sharpened steel. Those 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. The agents of the Betrayer would find
no quarter within their walls, and so the civilizations spanning the
western half of the continent wouldnt 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.
The 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 sufficedthe dragons were immortal and patient, and
they were locked into a battle of wills with Toruk, their creator.
They 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 Toruk. Silent and watchful, Blighterghasts 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 Twins 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 trainit 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.
The loose athanc? Here? The Circle Orboros had sought in
vain to thwart its enemies from recovering the disembodied dragon
athanc. The last he had heard about its location was that Cygnar had
defeated the Cryxians who had previously possessed it somewhere
on the Dragons Tongue near the Ordic border, but he had not
known its fate. That the Cygnarans were foolish enough to carry
it deep into their interior did not surprise himundoubtedly,
they had no idea what forces they provoked. And now it was all
coinciding with Kruegers insane ceremony. The dragons had been
stirred to action. The greatest bait they could imagine was put on
a train and driven before them. The 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. The 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. The storm poured over the land with a speed greater than any
weather, and the sky seemed to buckle under its presence. The 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 storms center came a terrible visage clad in
scale, tooth, claw, and balefire.
Toruk! Lortus gasped. Krueger, you fool. The Lord of Cryx
spread his wings to their full span, and the wall of blackened clouds
swirled. Green balefire rimmed the god-like figures eyes and wafted
from beneath his scales. With a titanic roar, Toruk shook the very
foundations of the mountains. The 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. The rousing of his wayward offspring
had brought the Dragonfather to the mainland for the first time in
sixteen centuries.
The dragon war had returned to Immoren.
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CHAPTER 21:
CONSTANCE BLAIZE
Frozen in terrified awe, Blaize watched as Toruk swept over the train
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. The circling forms
of the dragons battling above filled her vision. The burning trencher
crawled before Blaize, and in a last effort, extended a blackened hand
toward her for help before succumbing to the flames.
The choking miasma that was Toruks 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 Blaizes feet. The corpse of the trencher
shed watched burn to death twitched, flailing its limbs before
attempting to regain its footing with jerky movements. Charred
flesh sloughed off the mans bones, and as its head turned upward,
green balefire blazed where the mans 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 Warthunder the dead were
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 Toruk soared overhead, every one of the fallen
could rise in undeath to serve the dragons 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. Ill see to the 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 its place.
With me, he said, motioning for a pair of his knights to follow.
Together, 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 fields 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. The spectral
versions of the warcaster struck the undead with kinetic blows and
arcs of lightning. Thorn stood over its master, stabbing out with
its spear and beating back other risen with its shield. The major
had done a remarkable job preserving the train and hastening it
onward, but her hunched posture suggested the effort couldnt
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. The
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. The grouping of
undead surrounding her had thickened, but Thorn 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
athancs car and saying a prayer for the major as she went.
106
CHAPTER 22:
LORTUS
s Toruk 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. This
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 Toruk, both Charsaug and Ashnephos had
initially sought to flee, but despite their smaller size, they could
not outrun their creator. The 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 Toruks great wings. The
exhalations of the twin dragons, while terrible when unleashed
upon the world of mortals, meant nothing to Toruk, and so they
were reduced to the grisly art of close combat. As they clashed
against Toruks 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 Toruk from the mainland, he had
stood against a dozen or more, most of them greater than this pair.
Toruks 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 beasts 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.
The strike against Ashnephos left an opening for Charsaug, and
the twin seized the opportunity, clamping his jaws over Toruks
throat and drawing blood. Charsaug held on as Toruk thrashed,
raking his claws over the larger dragons 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 Toruk and prevented him from
pressing the advantage. How long had it been since Toruks scaled
hide had been pierced? Both twins recovered and circled, issuing
roars of defiance.
With a single stroke of his wings, Toruk 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. Toruks 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. The 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. The 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 dragons action.
A massive shadow took shape above Charsaug, and when Toruk
broke through the black clouds, he was in a steady dive, wings
tucked closely to his body to lend an added burst of speed. The
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. Toruks jaws clamped down on Charsaugs
throat, and together the two entered a death roll.
Charsaug kicked and thrashed, raking claws over Toruk as they
twisted, and yet he could not pull free. Toruks jaws clamped tighter,
teeth pressing through scale, and as they neared the ground, Toruk
gave a twist. The 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. This was how the world was to end, reshaped in
Toruks 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.
Toruk 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 Charsaugs stilled chest. Blackened draconic
blood poured from the wound and glowed like magma. The
Dragonfather tossed his head back and snapped his jaws shut,
swallowing Charsaugs heartstone whole. As the stone was ingested,
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the many wounds inflicted upon Toruk during the course of the
short battle knitted themselves together, and the balefire wreathing
his eyes and mouth flared with new intensity. The 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. These
were the dragons arrayed against Toruk 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. To this day, the people of Immorens 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.
To 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 Talon, 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
110
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 Toruks 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 Toruks 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.
The rain hissed as it struck the dragons umber scales, rising off him
in an eddy of steam.
Toruk cast down the corpse of Charsaugblood still seething
from the gaping hole in the dragons chestand sounded a roar
like that of a thousand horns beckoning for battle and blood.
The 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 Toruk, Blighterghasts 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. There was only the supremacy of Toruk
the Dragonfather, called by some the Eldest God of Caen.
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CHAPTER 23:
VICTORIA HALEY
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. The 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.
The last of her men now gone, she fought her way back to
reunite with whatever remained of Blaizes forces, alone except for
her two shades of Past and Future and the battered Thorn. Haley
felt a moment of panic when she reached her destination, only to
find it empty save for a few risen. To 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. The question of
the athancs 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.
Tunnel! 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. The
sheer face of a mountainside loomed ahead of the train, the tracks
vanishing within a tunnel carved into the base.
The 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 Thorn 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 Blaizes 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 Haleys 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. The 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. Im going to need that Centurion,
she said, jerking her chin toward the heavy warjack painted in the
colors of the church. And some room.
Ill release it to you, Blaize said, and Haley could feel her
disengage her mind from its cortex. Then the Morrowan warcaster
blinked. Oh, but the cortex lock. . .
Haley understood the problemwhile 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 Centurions 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 Haleys 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
114
could not have explained how this worked to Blaize. Instead, she
only smiled and said, Go! Ill take it from here.
The 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 locksa 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. This 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 Centurions 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.
Im 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.
The jacks 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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The Centurion struck the wheels in a shower of sparks and a

shriek of crimped metal. The 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. The sound was nearly deafening
as steel and iron shattered upon rock and earth. The 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. They
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 Toruk. 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. Those 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 Toruk. The 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.
They shared a harrowed look as the mountainside grew tall and the
tunnel swallowed them whole.
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CHAPTER 24:
NIDOBOROS
Darkness, 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 times passage like lesser creatures, yet
I am forced to confront it. There 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. That 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!
The 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. Through 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. Toruk, who demanded his children bow and surrender their
will to him. Toruk, 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 Toruks hubris. As powerful as I was, I knew Toruk to

be greater still. It was I who first understood that we must stand together
against him. They 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. Then
there was the blackness of oblivion, and the world was hidden to me.
I see my example was not enough. They 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. They fight him, but they will
lose. They 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. Toruk 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 Toruk. I will find a way. I will
bend and break these inferior creatures and make them do my bidding.
Toruk will fall.
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CHAPTER 25:
LORTUS
he clash between the dragon alliance and Toruk 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 Toruk 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. Two dozen druids stood among the nearby trees or knelt
along the ledge overlooking the enclave. They 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.
The 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. They 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 perilthe ley
line network could shatter entirely in its current weakened state.
Above all, he did not wish for Toruk to gain any more power. The
scales balancing the Dragonfather against his progeny were already
tipping, and upsetting the fate of Caen as well.
The storm heralding Toruks 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 Toruk 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 Toruk, but through strength
of numbers and coordinated maneuvers they sought to evade
destruction and grind down their creator.
Gjorlburn and Umbargoven streaked past Toruk 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 Toruks back before darting out of reach.
Ashnephos and Scaefang likewise made passing strikes at Toruks
wings in the hopes of hindering the eldest dragons 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 Toruk 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
Toruk 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 Toruk, 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 Toruk had not been
wasted, for he seemed to know and anticipate the movements of
the Dragonfather, guiding the others in their impossible dance.
Toruk 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. The 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 settlements
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 Toruk and his progeny, the victor would
undoubtedly seek the disembodied athanc beneath the citys 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
hat remained of the Lady Warthunder followed the rails ever

downward, burrowing through mile after mile of stone as it plunged
into the depths. The 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. They rushed
along with nothing but the sound of the locomotives wheels on
the rails to break the silence.
Haley had collapsed from exhaustion. The 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 safetyat least for
the time being. Long minutes dragged on, and in her tired state
she wondered if their descent under the mountain wasnt 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. The 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.
The train pulled into a platform supported by thick, steel girders,
giving a last gasp of steam as it ground to a halt. The 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 theyre 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 wont 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. The many pipes
running along the device were dented and ruptured. The last of
their steam had vented into the open air long before theyd reached
Ironhead Station. The 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. This 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. Well 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. Theres 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 everyones attention. There 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. The mechanik brought the pipe across the face of a
Precursor knight, shattering the mans 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 mechaniks 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. Whats wrong with her?
Id say the athanc has changed her mind, Blaize said, stepping
forward to examine the young woman. Shes not herself anymore.
We dont 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. This 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. Shell likely never be
the same.
The 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. The fight between dragons was going strong.
Then 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,
Id say the choice is clear.
If only it were that easy, Blaize said. No one knows how to
destroy a dragon heartstone. To my knowledge, it has never been
done. Sealing them away doesnt seem to work either, not that there
have been many chances. Id 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 cant 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.
The blighted mechanik started uttering her strange words
more rapidly, and strained against those holding her. It seemed to
Haley that the mechaniks 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 cant, 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 Toruk 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 cant 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. There was rage, but it was about
something other than the dragons imprisonment. She watched
as the mechaniks eyes wandered over the ceiling, and when a
particularly loud roar was unleashed above, the young woman spoke
the words with more conviction. Haleys thoughts drifted back to
when shed first touched the cube, and to the series of visions the
brief contact had projected into her minda sequence of images
stretching through time, following the fate of the heartstone. The
name Nidoboros came to her. She had watched that dragon clash
with Toruk alone, without hope. It was a champion of its kind. In
its selfless act, the dragon had lost its body but wounded Toruk,
giving its brethren reason to unite against him. Spittle flew from
the possessed mechaniks lips, and Haley wondered for whom the
angry words were meant.
Toruk, 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 prisons surface before pressing her palm flat
against it again. The response was hostile and immediate. This 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. Haleys mind became locked in a struggle with
a dragons 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 Haleys 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 Cygnars borders against
the horrors birthed from the Scharde Islands, all with their origins
in Toruk the Dragonfather. She drew upon those nightmares now,
channeling them through the strained connection she shared with
the imprisoned athanc. The dragons 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
NOT SO DIFFERENTWE SHARE A COMMON FOE.
The dragons 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.
The 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

dragons mind, but they were in a forgotten language unknown to
Haley. They brought a scrambled series of images, perhaps meant
to translate their meaning.
Talons and green flame danced behind Haleys eyes as she relived
the ancient clash against Toruk, the dragons memory conveying
hatred and blind determination. Nidoboros tore into Toruks flesh,
releasing rivers of blighted blood, but then the dragon champion
was struck down. The 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. The 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. The 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
Toruk. We need to free the dragon athanc from the cube.
What? Why? Blaize gasped, taken aback.
Were 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. Toruks 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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The dwarven enclave will give us access to the surface, Haley

said. Shouldnt be far.
What then? Blaize asked.
In all honesty, I dont know, Haley said. Im figuring this out
as I go.
The tunnel widened and gave way to a small cavern at the center
of several intersecting tunnels. The 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. The 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 spearwielders 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. The rune-empowered blade
proved capable of dispersing Pasts 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 warlocks 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 combather
strengths were elsewherebut she had enough training and hardwon experience to be quite skilled when fighting on the defensive.
Despite the viciousness of the warlocks 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 warlocks 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 Blaizes 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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The warlocks attacks came in a flurry, driving Haley back and

forcing her to give ground at a steady pace. The occasional strike
met Haleys power field, prompting a spark of blue energy before
being thrown harmlessly aside. They crossed the bazaar at a clip,
their footwork as fast as their spears. Once Haleys back was against
a wall, she made her move.
Trusting her power field to turn aside the warlocks 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 powerthe cuts were
light and superficial, meant to wound rather than kill. The flow
of the fight reversed, and the pair treaded the same ground in the
opposite direction. Echo clipped the warlocks 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
Echos point to her chest. Haleys boot followed, further pinning
her opponent.
Not another move, Haley said, speaking more to the swordwielding Nyss than the one beneath her boot. She looked to where
Blaize and Corley stood facing the other warlock. The 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. The 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
133
less perilous, but Haley did not intend to risk losing the Morrowan
warcaster.
Tell your companion to lower her weapon, Haley hissed,
pressing Echos 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 wasnt just the threat of the other
warlock; she wasnt 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 roomthe 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.
Haleys 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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The Nyss accepted the hand and pulled herself to her feet. In
a flash, the Nyss seized the opportunity of Haleys 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
ne 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 sensationsimilar to when Everblight
would fuse his thoughts with hers, yet she knew at once he was not
responsible for this.
The chambers 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. The 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 Everblights 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 sisters side and slumped to her knees, feeling
a vast, cold emptiness. A draconic roar filled her ears, and the scaled
enormity of Toruk, 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. The god of the dead surveyed his blasted
and darkened domain. As Toruk 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. The world went black.
Saeryns eyes fluttered open, and for a moment she knew not
when or where she was. The stone chamber reformed around her,
and she was staring into Haleys 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?
The vision had been powerful and convincing, as real as the few
Saeryn had experienced before, like the presentiment of the coming
of Thagrosh, Prophet of Everblight.
No trick. A vision of the future, Haley replied. Your future.
The warcaster withdrew her hand from Saeryns chest. It is what
shall come to pass if Toruk succeeds here today in the battle above.
Everblights thoughts flooded into Saeryns 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 THE 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.
The vision, Saeryn said, speaking slowly, Why should I
believe it?
If I didnt believe it with all my being, we wouldnt be having
this conversation. Youd be dead, and your companion would
shortly follow, Haley said flatly. Saeryn lightly pursed her lips, her
doubt briefly showing. She wasnt convinced that such an outcome
was within the warcasters power. Still, there was no mistaking that
Haley had surrendered her advantage, preferring words to action.
Listen to me. The 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 warcasters declaration, Everblights fury erupted inside of
Saeryns mind. Every fiber of the dragons being demanded Haleys
extinction. Saeryns temples throbbed, and she clenched her fists
as she fought Everblights command. She needed a moment of
clarity so she might better evaluate the situation and reason with
her enraged master.
Sensing Saeryns resistance, Everblights gaze shifted to Rhyas.
At the dragons 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 warcasters head from her shoulders.
The 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,
138
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 sisters from Everblight. As a rift opened between the twins
and their master, Saeryn knew she had embarked on an unalterable
course. She believed the warcasterthey faced destruction. To
save herself and Rhyas and Everblight himself, she had defied the
dragon in a way that none of his other servants could. The 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. Though 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. Tell 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 Blighterghasts masterful orchestration might actually
prevail, but now Toruk had the upper hand. With growing dread,
he realized it would likely stay that way. Every moment that passed,
Toruk seemed stronger, while the alliance weakened.
Blighterghast had sustained the brunt of the injuries inflicted
by Toruk. Deep gashes spanned one side of his body, and shards
of bone pierced his insides as they shifted unpredictably. Balefire
had warped the dragons scales and shriveled his flesh despite
Blighterghasts natural resistance to flame. His wings, too, had
suffered expansive cuts that limited his maneuverability. The
dragons 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.
Toruk was far from unscathed, but the Dragonfathers 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. The three barreled into the Dragonfather, and Blighterghast
went for the throat while the others sought their creators wings.
Teeth 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. Toruks 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 Toruk and Blighterghast even as the pair raked at
one another with their claws.
The two parted, each bearing fresh wounds, only this timeto
Lortus horrorToruk changed his tactics and gave chase. Green
balefire erupted from the Dragonfathers maw, and even Lortus,
who was far below, could feel its heat. It blistered Blighterghasts
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 Toruk effortlessly caught up to his greatest
progeny. The two collided, twisting mid-air, and together
plummeted downward, biting and scratching as they vied for
control. In the final moments before impact, Toruk bit deep into
Blighterghasts neck, his razor teeth piercing scale and flesh. The
dwarven enclave rushed up to meet them, and Toruk tore loose
a portion of Blighterghasts throat before pulling free of the
entanglement. Blighterghast hit the cobbled streets of the dwarven
enclave with explosive force.
The 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
141
descended a hundred feet or more into the lower levels of the

enclave. With a thought, Lortus teleported to a peak overlooking
the enclave. The 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.
The dragons strength was leaving his body as his blood flowed
freely from his throat. Lortus heart fell within his chest. This was a
blow from which the dragon alliance could never recover.
Above, Toruk 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. Youve killed us all.
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CHAPTER 29:
VICTORIA HALEY
pon 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 Haleys
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.
The 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.
The 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. The
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.
The supports creaked under the strain, and a deafening crash came
from behind as an avalanche of stone filled the previous chamber.
There 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. The 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 dont 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. The 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. Time was short, and at the center
of the fading light was the athanc prison and Saeryn. Their 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
144
cover more ground without waiting for your machine.

No, Haley said. Not until we have to. I wont 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. Together the party
continued upward. The 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
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 hera sense of presence within the athanc that empowered
herbut 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. Toruk 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.
Im 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 shed 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. The sky was awash with colors that were not colors, each
a slightly different hue. The shedding of draconic blood in such a
quantity had left countless ripples of blighted distortion. The battle
was like a dance of bleeding suns orbiting a swirling maelstrom of
darkness that was Toruk.
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. They seemed to be
fading as she watched.
There, Saeryn said, Beyond these buildings.
Still alive? Haley asked.
Yes, but weakened. He would move if he could. Toruk 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.
Lets make sure we get there first! Haley said. She sprinted
onward with her pair of warjacks following close behind. Saeryns
fingers gave a twitch at her side as she resisted the urge to hurl a spell
at the Cygnarans back. Only the vision of Everblights destruction
and the reign of Toruk 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
Thagrosh 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
147
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
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. They
looked out of place in such urban environs despite the surrounding
mountain peaks. They 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. The ornate
quality of the mans robes and the golden torc ringing his neck
denoted authority beyond the others. He carried no visible weapon,
but his power was palpable. The 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 Haleys.
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 dragons heartstone? Haley asked.
This 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. The athanc must be
taken far from here, far from Toruk. It is our only hope of mitigating
this disaster. Only I can make that happen. Relinquish the athanc
now or perish.
Taking it away will doom us all, Haley insisted. I know what
I must do.
That I cannot allow, Lortus said.
Then we are at an impasse, Haley replied, drawing on her
150
power. She prepared to seize control of the flow of time and launch
a swift attack, hoping to steal the initiative.
There was a crackle of thunder and lightning limned Lortus
body as the cobblestone beneath his boots blackened and smoked.
The omnipotent had made no move that Haley could see, and yet
a pair of curved obsidian blades appeared in his hands.
The 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. Thorn
stepped forward to stand at her side. She braced herself for the
opening assault, but the bite of the obsidian blades never came.
There 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 druids
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 mans
combatants 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
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 Circleif 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. Too much relies on this. All barriers
must be removed.
The dragon alliance rampages across Caen, the ley lines suffer
untold damage, and Toruk 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. The 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.
The omnipotent shot forward with the speed and tenacity of
the elements he commanded, driving his blades at the weak points
in Kruegers 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 Kruegers shoulder, slicing through muscle and tendon
without effort and rendering the Stormlords 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. The 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 Kruegers,
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
153
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.
The 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
Which way? Haleys 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 dragons intense blight. Its
potency was beyond anything they had felt in proximity to even
the unshielded athanc. This dragons 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 Haleys 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. The blight was affecting her power. The
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.
They 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.
Too close for normal mortals, Saeryn said with indifference.
She regarded Corley with a cold gaze. Blighterghasts presence
will kill him, I think. The mechanik, too. she nodded toward
Strangewayes. More than ever, Haley wanted to punch Saeryn in
her face. The Nyss unfeeling demeanor offended her, but she knew
both Saeryn and Rhyas still had their roles to play.
Im fine, Corley said as he regained his feet and stood straight.
For a moment, he appeared steady, but another bout of coughing
struck almost immediatelythis one worse than the last. He
wretched violently, and his face went pale.
Saeryns 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.
This is as far as you go.
Blaizes indignation was apparent. Now wait just a minute. If
you think
Haley raised a hand to silence Blaize. Those are my orders.
She knew she was asking a great deal of the Knight of the Prophet.
Technically, they were equivalent in rank, both warcasters, and
it had been Blaizes 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. Those
two will betray you the moment you turn your back.
If they plan to betray me, we have already lost, Haley said.
Youve done enough. Get Corley and Strangewayes out of here
while you can.
Very well. One of these days, youre going to realize you cant
handle everything on your own. With that, she turned away and
moved to help Corley.
156
A sinking feeling took hold in the pit of Haleys 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 Thorn remained. The jacks followed close behind, raindrops
evaporating from their chassis on contact in little puffs of steam.
The 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 Haleys temples, and an ache permeated throughout her
body and settled in her joints like shards of glass grinding against
bone. Maintaining her connection to Thorn 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. The pair skirted
low walls and traversed crumbled buildings with the same unified
movement they used in battle.
The 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. The outlines of
157
exposed rooms and tunnels burned and crumpled inward, pulled

toward the bottom of the gaping pit around which they now
huddled. The 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 dragons 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 creatures 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 Blighterghasts
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. They 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. Their imperfections are rampant.
They are inferior to Everblights spawn.
But still dangerous. There are too many, Haley said. She was
painfully aware of the blights effect on her body.
The 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 Saeryns wrist. Wait. Theres something I need
to do first.
Saeryn shook herself free of Haleys grasp with a murderous
look. Theres 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. The 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 craters 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
Haleys 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 craters edge and fall into the
rubble below.
The dragons voice boomed within her mind with unfathomable
force: SURRENDER THE ATHANC 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.
159
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. This too we will endure. You are stronger than he knows.
The voices 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. The 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.
THE ATHANC OR DEATH, 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. Saeryns
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 Haleys 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 Blighterghasts efforts. Her mental
barrier held.
The pain at the base of her skull dissipated, as did the aches
that had plagued her body. The concentration of blighted energy
had been lessened. After a long pause, the dragons voice returned.
MAKE YOUR REQUEST. QUICKLY.
Haley exhaled a breath she hadnt realized shed been holding
160
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?
There was a pause, and Haley was about to repeat her demands
when the dragons voice filled her head. DONE. NOW, GIVE THE
ATHANC TO 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 THESE GAMES, Blighterghast said.
Haley glanced at Saeryn and then Rhyas. She steadied herself,
knowing this second request was likely to invoke the dragons ire.
She hadnt 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 Haleys 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 THE HEART OF THE BETRAYER PIECE
BY PIECE. HIS FATE IS DECIDED.
Those are my terms, Saeryn shouted, refusing to be cowed by
the dragons rage. Her own will must have been as strong as Haleys,
for she endured the onslaught. Accept or perish.
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I REFUSE YOUR PETTY 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. The
dragon was growing weaker.
Haley squared her shoulders. Then the athanc goes to Toruk,
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 Toruk 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 Saeryns 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. There
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 THE BETRAYER, Blighterghast said. BRING
NIDOBOROS.
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CHAPTER 34:
SAERYN
Saeryns hands wandered over the athanc prison, tracing runes and
applying pressure as she searched for the release mechanism. She

could feel Blighterghasts consciousness lingering over her mind,
his impatience almost tangible. Flashes of lightning from the storm
cast the cubes runes into sharp relief.
Part of the cubes 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. The cube broke apart, revealing the glowing
crystalline form of the athanc at its center.
The 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 Pyromalfics athanc at the Castle of the Keys battle.
Afterward they had fled north, and she had escorted Thagrosh
through the dark and forgotten passages beneath Ios. There she
had watched the Prophet suffer as he struggled to absorb the
athanc into his own self on Everblights behalf. It had been the
first time anything like this had ever been attemptedEverblights
own essence was divided and scattered among his warlocks, the
piece within Thagrosh incomplete. The dragon had resisted its
annihilation with every ounce of its will, and Thagrosh 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. The stone would need to be
delivered into the dragons body through one of his many wounds,
which presented a new problem. The spawn birthed from the
dragons blood were not under his control, so a warjack couldnt
carry the athanc down alone without risking the machines
destruction by the rogue spawn, not that the cumbersome
machines could handle the descent anyway. They would have to
deliver the athanc to Blighterghast themselves, and they would
have to carry it.
Can it be done? Haley asked. The 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 Blighterghasts 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
sisters mood. Their 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.
164
Rhyas nodded, not looking away from the crater. The strength
of the athancs blight is too great for one.
Agreed, Haley said. She joined Rhyas at the craters 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 dont 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. Im going to handle
defense.
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CHAPTER 35:
KRUEGER
Krueger 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 airs currents and using his weapons greater length
to his advantage. The 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 Kruegers 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.
There 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. The loss of
their leader had left them in disarray.
The swipe of a blade slipped past Kruegers defenses and bit into
his forearm, drawing blood for a moment before it was shunted
to a wold. The 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. The 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 omnipotents 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
aleys 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 Saeryns arm. It was just as Haley had
seen in her vision.
Tendrils of organic matter sprouted from the athanc. Now free
from its prison, the athanc sought to reform its body. Saeryns flesh
rippled and spines broke through her skin before receding under the
force of the warlocks 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.
Thorn 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. The last thought from
Thorns 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 hadnt been
so she could give her life here instead, trading her existence for
Cygnars preservation.
At the sight of Haley charging down the crumbling slopes, the
nearest dragonspawn hissed and shrieked, turning their eyeless
heads in her direction. They 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 creatures 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 themselvesall 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 creators
resting place. It did not matter that Blighterghast welcomed their
approachthe dragon was so near to death he could not command
these blood-spawned protectors. They 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.
169
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 Echos 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 Blighterghasts 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. The
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 Haleys
power field, which flared and failed. A second spray coated her
armor. Steel plates warped and melted beneath the creatures 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. The 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 creatures 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. The hot, coppery taste of blood filled her mouth.
170
Her mental connection to Past and Future vanished, and she

knew the projections had been overwhelmed. The 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 Echos 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 Haleys
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. The 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 shouldnt get in the habit of disobeying orders, Haley said
with pained smile. Only leads to trouble. She threw one arm over
Blaizes shoulders and used Echo to support herself.
And you should stop leaving the infirmary without permission,
Blaize replied. Lets get out of here. She attempted to steer the
two of them toward the upper reaches of the crater, but Haley
didnt budge.
171
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 athancs
blight robbing their strength and power. The Nyss fought back-toback, but were entirely on the defensive. Without the support of
Haleys time projections, they had been stalled and would soon be
overcome.
Forget them! Blaize yelled. They 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.
They 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
youre right!
Haley steadied herself, holding tight to Blaize, and focused
on summoning the projections of her other selves again. After
a moments 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. The two warcasters staggered forward, and Haley
focused on maintaining her projections. She could hear Blaizes
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.
They reached the encircled Nyss as the last of the nearest spawn
were exterminated. Saeryn gave Haley the slightest of nods. The
athanc beneath Saeryns 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. They reached the inert corpse of the dragon
172
together, and with the last of her strength, Saeryn crammed the
fleshy mass containing the athanc of Nidoboros into a wound
spanning Blighterghasts side. For a moment her upper body
disappeared into the gap, but her twin helped pull her loose, and
she fell back, gasping.
The change was so sudden as to be eerie. The orange glow
beneath the overlapping layers of Blighterghasts black scales flared
and ushered forth a wave of heat like a once-cold furnace being
stoked to life. The remaining eye of Old Ravager opened once
more.
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CHAPTER 37:
LORTUS
ortus had known Krueger for most of the potents 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. Hed 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 Kruegers lay in ruin
as well. The 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
Stormlords 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 Kruegers 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 Kruegers exposed
torso. The 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 Kruegers mouth, and his eyes went
wide from the pain. The potent lost the ability to keep himself aloft
and tumbled downward.
The 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 Kruegers shattered body. Do not underestimate your betters.
Lortus lowered himself to the ground and placed the tip of a
blade beneath Kruegers chin. The last of the subordinate blackclads
had been killed or fled. The two of them were alone.
You had such potential. I blame Mohsars training for what
you became. Looking down at Krueger, Lortus couldnt 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. They had conducted
a trial for him already, only to have Wurmwood intervene.
As he debated the pragmatic necessity of cutting Kruegers 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.
175
CHAPTER 38:
BLIGHTERGHAST
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 dragons damaged eye, and the
membrane of his wings was restored to its former glory. At the same
time, Blighterghasts 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. The 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 Toruk and passed in and out of the dark clouds. Toruk
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 Dragonfathers enormous wings, raking him with
their claws before they were driven away by the slash of talons.
There had been no further casualties, but even at a distance,
Blighterghast could tell the alliance was failing. Their movements
were frantic and disorderly, more evasion than attack. It was only a
matter of time before Toruk 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. They 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. The 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 Toruks breath. Even so, renewed vigor burned behind their
eyes, inspired by the return of their champion. Together, the seven
gathered: Ashnephos, Halfaug, Scaefang, Gjorlburn, Umbargoven,
Horaurak, and Blighterghast himself.
Through the downpour, Blighterghast could see Toruk spread
his wings to their full span in a show of dominance, the dark clouds
swirling behind him. Toruk 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 roarsBlighterghasts loudest of allthat
shook the battlements of the enclave below and drowned out
the rolling thunder of Toruks storm. The cry reinvigorated their
formerly dwindling strength, and with the power of Nidoboros
burning inside him, Blighterghast led the charge in what he knew
177
must be their final battle. Far above the Rhulic enclave, the dragon
alliance and Toruk clashed, claw against scale, and the resulting
sound was that of mountain ranges being torn asunder.
Toruk met their charge, unwilling to yield. They 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. The two
dragons rolled, biting and slashing, their power far beyond that of
the others. Green flame poured from Toruks jaws, and Blighterghast
responded in kind. While Toruks scales had previously rendered
him immune to the exhalations of his progeny, the flames of
Blighterghast prompted a roar from Toruk filled with surprise and
agony. Blighterghast did not hesitate to bathe his creator in the
all-consuming fire. When they finally separated, it was Toruk 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 Blighterghasts 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 Toruk hurtled down what had been Blighterghasts
projected path.
Forewarned by Blighterghasts 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 Toruk
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, Toruk did not escape unscathed. By the time Toruk had
disentangled himself, Blighterghast was waiting.
178
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 Toruk, he did so with a newfound understanding of his ancient
foe.
Blighterghast entered the fray once more. He smashed into
Toruk like a hammer fashioned from hardened scales and sent
the Dragonfather flying back, his wings scrambling to recover
equilibrium. Toruk lunged with snapping jaws, looking to fix his
teeth to Blighterghasts throat as he had done before, but this time
Blighterghast anticipated and evaded the attack, twisting aside.
Before, Toruks movements had seemed too fast to anticipate, but
now Blighterghast could see the cues that betrayed his opponents
intent. Eyes and tensed muscles telegraphed each move before he
acted, and with these hints, Blighterghast stayed one step ahead of
Toruk.
His tail caught Toruk across the middle, and his claws ripped at
Toruks 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 Toruk 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 Toruks neck before being battered
away.
Toruk launched away from Blighterghast and circled warily.
Bellowing roars were exchanged in the lapse. For the first time since
his return to the mainland, Toruk showed caution. Blighterghast
recognized Toruk as the stronger, but when they finally collided
once more, it was Blighterghast who took the initiative. Toothriddled maws punctured scales and bit deep into flesh, and the
179
blood of each dragon splashed the scales of the other. A sharp hiss
sounded as Blighterghasts washed over Toruk. The blood itself
sizzled with caustic power and burst into flame as it ate away at
the Dragonfathers scales, and Blighterghast knew he had inherited
another gift from the athanc of Nidoboros.
Ignoring the scratches and bites Toruk 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 Toruks 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 Toruks chest. Green flame rushed from the gaping
wound and scalded Blighterghasts face, but the dragon held firm.
Never before had such a wound been inflicted upon Toruk, not even
in the days when Nidoboros had soared over Caen. Toruks alarm
was clear. The Dragonfathers claws rained down, and his breath
baked Blighterghasts wings and back. Still, Blighterghast would
not relinquish his hold. The other dragons joined, clamping their
own jaws on Toruks throat and slashing at his baleful eyes. Their
combined efforts threatened to overwhelm him, and Blighterghasts
thirst to consume the heartstone of his creator filled him.
The tumult of scales and fangs crashed into a mountainside.
They rolled, biting and scratching. Those dragons of the alliance
lost their hold as Toruk 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.
Toruk 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 Toruk and stand over his smoldering corpse as he roared to the
180
sky in triumph. Toruks defeat was within his grasp, as was the
original athanc, the source from which his own heartstone had
been carved.
Blighterghast watched Toruk 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.
They 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
Toruk, the other dragons added their own voices to his warning.
The mainland was off limits once again, and Blighterghasts 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 Toruks own wounds and his satisfaction with
consuming Charsaug would keep him at bay. They would have to
see which side recovered more swiftly. The war was not ended, not
for immortals such as they.
181
CHAPTER 39:
VICTORIA HALEY
aley, Blaize, Saeryn, and Rhyas climbed over the lip of the
crater and collapsed from exhaustion, sitting with their backs to
the slabs of rubble. The sky had cleared, and the sun beat down on
their faces with the warmth of new life. The skyline had changed.
Not only had several mountain peaks been flattened or scarred by
draconic impacts, but the land around them had been tainted. The
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.
The Nyss sat shoulder to shoulder, looking grim. Haley didnt
understand the particulars, but she knew they had gone against
the will of their draconic master to accomplish the task. The 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. Their
relationship to the dragons made them a threat to all Haley cared
for. Their 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.
183
CHAPTER 40:
KRUEGER
You 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 Toruk shrink into the distance.
Then 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 Kruegers injuries. The 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. That isnt 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. There 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.
185
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. The hooded forms of
acolyths glided among the dragonspawn and attached the spoils
to the largest among them for travel. The 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 Charsaugs chest where the
dragons 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 Everblights
army, just as the archangels had been birthed from the bones of
Pyromalfic.
The other dragons had inexplicably ended their hunt and flown
away, no longer chasing those who bore Everblights divided
athanc. Their 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
Charsaugs 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 dragons 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.
187
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 Dragonfather

Copyright 2016 Privateer Press
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ISBN: 978-1-943693-28-3
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WRATH OF THE

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CHAPTER 29: VICTORIA HALEY................................................143

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