"A son can bear with equanimity the loss of his father, but the loss of his inheritance may drive him to despair. Ah, but when his father suspects that he is about to experience a sudden loss of all his blood and sets up the inheritance as to deny his firstborn any chance of taking what is rightfully his, that is what drives him to rage. And over my long unlife, the royal inheritance rules have thwarted me many times. I have given up trying to control the throne by marriage, because the monarch never selects the spouse as the heir. But I am getting close. I believe I am only two or three generations away from breeding a true monarch. More of Brimir's blood runs in my brood's veins than in the royal family, who dilute it with their dalliances. I can taste the power of the Void within them. Soon. Soon."

Louis de la Valliere


All was not right within the hidden dungeon lair of the overlady. Dim magelights cast a sinister glow over the depths of her cavernous throne room, where the sun never shone. The vampire queen sprawled out on her sister's seat of power. Sitting around her were her pale handmaidens - several wearing scarves around their necks - who looked up to her with reverence.

She had a decision to make. A decision on what convoluted, complex, sinister ploy to partake in so that she could claim what was rightfully hers - and let none waylay her!

The blood-thirsty queen of the loving dead leaned forward, fangs bared, and inquired, "Xiaolian, do you have Miss Knot, the Hangman's Daughter?" The Cathayan girl shook her head. "Drat. That means it's your go."

Settling back down into her seat, she glanced over her handmaidens, trying to work out which one had the card she wanted. If it wasn't Xiaolian, it must be Elloise… oh, unless it was Anne! This game was using Christine's cards. It was harder than it looked!

Cattleya raised her hand, and discretely yawned into it. She was up long past her bedtime, and was exhausted. But she had to be awake. If she was awake, she could make sure she was the one who answered any message from Louise. And if she answered a message from Louise, she could show her sister just how much she didn't need her. Gnarl was waiting down by the heart of the tower, and he'd managed to beat her last time because she'd been drowsy. But she'd show Louise how little she needed her, oh yes she would!

No! No! She wouldn't think about Louise! Her little sister was off getting herself into trouble on a silly flying island above running water, and Cattleya not only couldn't help her, but she wouldn't help her even if she could!

Red eyes gleamed. What she really had to do was work out which of her servants had Miss Knott, the Hangman's daughter. Cattleya closed her eyes and focussed, casting her senses out. One by one, the other women's irises turned red as she rifled through their senses in turn, peeking at their cards.

A really, really horribly mean person would probably have something to say about how similar the familiar bond was to the power she had over her servants. Oh yes, that really mean person would love to study it. She would compare and contrast the sacred ritual sealed with a kiss, which Cattleya had never been allowed to try, with what she could do by feeding someone her blood! And there would probably be all kinds of interesting theological questions that could be brought up! Which Cattleya wasn't going to cooperate with, hah!

Ha! It was Elloise who had the card! She'd show her, her and her… her...

Founder, she was flipping pathetic. This was dreadful. Here she was, cheating at cards against her beloved servants. This wasn't what she'd planned to do when she was free from her bossy little sister. She'd planned to go over to Maria's place, to stay for a few nights and see if she really wanted to move out. But then Maria had got super-weird about things and wanted to get a cat and talked about getting a double-sized coffin for both of them to sleep in and Cattleya just wasn't ready for something like that. And then things had gone even further downhill and she'd started talking about how Cattleya could drain all her blood and with a bloody kiss welcome her into the aristocracy of the night and they could live forever in gore-drenched nights full of decadence, slaughter and passion.

And that was one thing that Cattleya was never, ever going to do.

Then they'd argued. She… she just didn't understand why Maria wouldn't accept that it wasn't just strength to bend a sword into a circle and never ending life. It meant never seeing the sun again. It meant feeling cold and sluggish, except for those few brief moments after a feeding. It meant forgetting why you weren't meant to just go tear someone's throat out with your teeth. It meant being dead.

So that was why she was here, playing cards with her maids. And not doing what she'd planned to be doing this weekend.

Her stomach growled. Urgh. Staying up late was exhausting. She realised she was focussing on Anne's jugular. No, she mentally chided herself. It wouldn't be Anne's time for almost a week. This was important! Spacing out feeding mattered! She didn't want to hurt any of her adorable girls, and that meant she needed to keep to her feeding roster!

She glanced up at her little sister's white cat, who was staring down at her with cold blue eyes. She couldn't help but feel that the cat was judging her. It wasn't a good feeling. Pallas was a very preachy cat, in Cattleya's opinion. She never sat on anyone's lap apart from Louise's!

Cattleya sighed. She wondered how her baby sister was getting on. She hoped she wasn't getting in too much trouble. Just a bit of trouble. A teeny tiny bit. Enough that she'd appreciate her more.


"Founder, I wish Cattleya was here," Louise growled. This is…" she ducked back into cover as a blunderbuss roared, throwing up clouds of stone dust, "… so much…" she hurled another fireball at the steam golem's joints, trying to melt them and failing, "… bullsugar!"

The golem turned its lobster pot-like head from left to right, purple runes burning bright on its forehead. Its armour was acid-etched and pitted from Louise's previous attempts to melt it; scratched and stained by cosmetic damage. But nothing she could do was enough to put it down.

"You're telling me!" Jessica shouted back, from where she was cowering in a doorway, demonic musket clutched to her chest. She stepped out of cover as the golem resumed its slow advance, firing shot after shot faster than any normal gun should manage. The balls pinged off the thick metal plating of the golem. "This isn't fair! Humans shouldn't be allowed to do this! They're cheating!"

"She'd probably be able to just grab onto one leg and bend it into a pretzel," Louise moaned. "And you're right! It's cheating to make something like this!"

It had been going so well! The steam golem had massacred her minions while she and Jessica had run away. And then it had pursued, stepped onto the wooden staircase, and its weight had broken the oak under it. The golem had fallen and smashed into the ground with a sound like an anvil pushed out of a top-floor window.

Then it had gotten back up again, just in time to interrupt Louise's cheer.

Things had taken a turn for the worse after that.

From down the hallway, there was a sound of wood splintering. Louise poked her head out of cover, to see that the golem had picked up the remnants of the staircase. She ducked her head back just in time for a ballistic plank to whistle past, aimed with offensive accuracy at where her eyes had been.

"Any ideas?" she shouted at Jessica.

"It's probably weak to magical transmutation!" Jessica hollered back.

"Right!" A pause. "Jessica! I can't do that!"

"... shit! Why not?"

What kind of question was that? "Because it's really hard!" And, Louise realised, probably because her native element was wind. Lightning came easy to her. Earth was opposed to wind. Which was wonderful proof that her mother's blood had proven true in her, but also really not helpful right now.

"Grenade out!" Jessica yelled, tossing something down the other end of the corridor. "Stay in cover!"

Louise felt the force of the blast through the wall. But even while her ears were ringing, she knew it hadn't worked. Thunk. Thunk. Thunk. The golem was advancing again. It moved slowly, but she'd seen how it had protected that fat Albionese idiot. It wouldn't do to underestimate it.

She risked another glance out, into the wrecked corridor. The air was thick with smoke and shards of metal were embedded in the walls. It wasn't stopping the golem. Her eyes drifted up, and she saw the arched ceiling. "When I say go," she shouted to Jessica, leaning back in, "run for that hall where we left Magda!"

"What about Fluffles?"

"Maybe they'll fight each other!"

She cupped her hand over the tip of her staff, chanting as lightning played over her armour. Nearly there. The golem was nearly… now!"

"Thunderbolt!" she yelled, letting loose the overcharged spell. It blew apart the keystone of the arch. The ceiling came down, raining plaster, and wood. "Jess, run for it!" she snapped, coughing and spluttering from the dust in the air. The fallen wood and stone were already moving as the golem pulled its way out.

Her metal boots hammered on the stone floor as she fled. Each breath hurt, and she could feel the beads of sweat running down her neck and forehead. Up ahead, Jessica was waiting by a pile of discarded pallets.

"I told you to run!" she yelled.

"Help me push these over!"

"Are you mad?"

"It might slow it down! Don't argue! On three!"

The boxes fell, but they didn't really block off the corridor. She could already heard the thumping, clanking metal of the mechanical monstrosity. "Run!"

"Just hold it!" Jessica pulled out a length of wire, running it between two fallen boxes, and then tied it up to a metal cylinder. "Okay!" She set off again, Louise in tow, finally reaching the dubious safety of the assembly hall.

Which was now missing two walls and a good chunk of the ceiling, but which had gained a fetching ornamentation of wet meaty chunks of eviscerated soldier and an always-in-style redecoration in the varied palettes of gore.

"Oh Founder," Louise gasped, hands on her thighs as she tried to simultaneously gasp for breath and avoid throwing up at the sight before her. Wait, should she even swear by the Founder, given that… no, not the time!

"Well, he's not here. And neither is that terrifying little girl," Jessica said, reloading her weapon. Louise couldn't help but admire the professional way she did it, and the general aura of manly strength and toughness and… oh sugar.

"Keep it together," Louise muttered, although she wasn't entirely sure whether she was talking to herself or Jessica. Probably both. They both had to keep it together.

Naturally, they both screamed when the nearest stone wall exploded in clouds of billowing dust. Razor-sharp fragments pinged off Louise's armour. She peeked out from behind the debris. The golem stood there, the black paint over its metal form scraped away to reveal dull metal. Its faceless helmet panned from left to right, the purple sigil on its brow glowing. Searching. Searching.

"Ideas?" Louise asked, shrinking away behind the broken machinery.

"Nope. You?" Jessica said, scrabbling as she tried to reload her weapon.

"Part of one." She glanced over at one of the bits of the room that the demon and the minions had not managed to destroy. "We saw how unstable those were. If we pin it down, we might be able to focus on the head while it's not moving. I'll be the bait."

"You? But…"

"Do you think I'm strong enough to push one of those piles over?" she said, backing away carefully. "Plus, you're not allowed to be bait. Your father, remember?"

Jessica laughed without humour. "Yeah. How could I forget?"

Louise's eyes settled on the most vulnerable-looking pile of debris. "Right. I'm going to stand there. When I give the order…"

Jessica scampered away, and Louise was left alone. She didn't have any minions. She was the bait. And she was up against a massive hulking metal monstrosity. "So, do you have any magical powers that can pull me out of this fire?" she asked the Gauntlet as she slowly backed away from the clanking golem. There was no response and no convenient flashback. "Traitor," she muttered, tossing a weak fireball at the golem to make sure she kept it attention.

Thump. Thump. Thump. The sound of the golem's footsteps seemed to grab her heart and force it to beat with it. Every stomp was a pulse in her ears.

Why wasn't it moving as fast as it had to protect that fat Albionese nobleman? Every motion was controlled. Deliberate. No quicker than it had to be; maybe slower. Louise wracked her brains for half-remembered topics on golems back at the Academy. They took no small amount of will to create. That idiot Guiche had always claimed the reason he was so distractible was that he was always drained from the golems that were his signature. She had felt he was probably lying, but it was a thing. That was why golem-makers trying to make a long-term automaton anchored it in elemental crystals, feeding it with the magic trapped inside. Such things didn't come cheap, though, and the more active they were, the faster the crystals were depleted. A wise golem-maker made his creations lazy.

To put it another way, the golem didn't think it needed to try its hardest against her.

Oh, that just made her so mad.

Maybe she didn't need to rely on Jessica. She dropped her staff with a thunk. Gripping her left wrist with her right hand, she raised the Gauntlet at its head. Deep breaths. Deep breaths. Take that hate. Take that anger. Take the cringing rage that a stupid mechanism didn't think she was worth anything. Just like everyone else. Louise the failure. Louise the Zero.

Take that rage. And focus it.

Fat red crackling electricity started to coil around her fingertips like something alive. One arced from finger to thumb, then another from index finger to ring finger. Her hand twisted into a claw as she felt the wicked magic building up, trying to force her fingers apart and escape. She could feel the trembling in her arms, the aching in her bones.

The golem saw what she was doing. And it sped up.

"Minions!" Louise yelled, as she tried to back away and keep her grasp on the power. Despite her best efforts, it waned and flickered. It earthed itself as she lost control of the gathering spell. "You idiots! Protect me!"

None responded. There wasn't a single stupid comment. And that meant they were all dead.

"Oh. Oh sugar." Now she looked more closely, the legs and fists of the mechanism were covered in foul-smelling minion blood. The dust was sticking to them, covering them in a disgusting paste.

"Jessica!" Louise shouted, backing up. "Do it now!" The golem was getting closer and closer and she was out of space to retreat and, "I mean it!" Thump. Thump. Thump. "Jessica! Thunderb-"

Something exploded, and the perilously balanced tower of fallen golems and parts collapsed with a sound like a cannon in a smithy. Which was probably pretty much what had happened if Jessica had used some of her explosive charges to collapse it. The iron monster tried to stand strong against the wave of metal parts, but they were made of the same things as it. It could no more remain free and untrapped than a made-of-meat human could when trapped under a dead, also-made-of-meat cow.

"All right!" Jessica yelled, emerging from behind the fallen metal with her hand held up for a hi-five.

"No gloating, only killing!" Louise snapped as she picked up her staff and advanced cautiously. "Find me the head! I'll melt it with acid!"

"Yeah!" Rushing in, she pulled at pieces of metal, looking the purple glow. "Found it! Here, quickly, Lou!"

Not quickly enough. With brutal strength, the golem tore an arm out from under the twisted metal. Jessica tried to dodge, but too slowly. The golem clipped her with its backhand. The glancing blow was enough to send her skidding across the stone floor, the metal throwing up sparks. She hit the wall and curled up into a ball, clutching her right arm. Even through the ringing in her ears, Louise could hear her screaming.

Her throat was hoarse from chanting as she poured on all the acid she could. It wasn't working! Why wasn't it working? She was trying to melt its stupid metal head and it wasn't working!

The golem, covered in hissing pink foam, stood up. Stone bubbled as it shook itself off, spraying acid everywhere. Pitted and corroded, it advanced on Jessica.

Louise screamed, her stomach churning with fear. Gripping her staff as tightly as she could, she swung at its head. There was a resounding clang, and the golem paused where it was. Clang-clang-clang her staff went, and she stepped back, panting.

Slowly the inexorable machine turned around. The black iron on its front was as pitted and scarred as an ancient weapon dug up from some long-dead king's barrows, and hints of red light could be seen streaming from gaps in its chest.

"Hey, you! Stupid metal bathtub!" Louise yelled, backing away further. "I'm the real threat here! Not her!"

The golem considered the diminutive armoured figure before it. Then it turned around again to focus on Jessica.

Louise shot it in the back of the head with a lightning bolt. It left a glowing red dent.

That got its attention. Then she ran for it. Louise pumped her arms and legs, feeling her lungs burn. She threw herself around the corner, gasping for breath, and glanced back. The golem was facing her. Was it following?

No. Okay. She blasted it again with lightning.

She fled, and it followed. It wasn't fast. But it was inexorable, and took shortcuts. She could hear the stone smashing behind her as it punched through walls and hastily slammed doors.

The building showed signs of recent life around her. There was no dust in the floors, and there were the signs of a hasty evacuation. At least Magda's demon had emptied the wing out of anyone who could be hurt by the fight. Mostly by killing them and eating their faces, but… you know what they always said, always look on the bright side of life.

She wasn't sure it was applicable here and now, but it was that or vomit at the sight of yet another flayed face.

Louise fled, pursued by a metal killing machine.


Face pale and damp with sweat, her armour jingling from her trembling, Jessica sat slumped against the filthy wall. She was trying to undo the lacing on the dented plate on her arm. The bent metal was a constant pressure against the red hot poker that had replaced the bones in her arm. "Fuck," she muttered as her fingers slipped again. "Fuckity fuck fuck!"

The last curse accompanied her finally managing to undo the last tie. The dented plate fell off her forearm, and she let out a sigh of relief that was only partly a pained whimper. Her head spun, and she barely resisted the churning of her rebellious stomach. Once she felt up to it, Jessica eased her gauntlet off, and loosened the padding to take a look at her bare arm.

It shouldn't be bending like that. Shit.

At least the skin wasn't broken. Her entire arm below the elbow might be one livid bruise, but it wasn't going to kill her. No, that was the golem's job. Which meant she needed two working arms, in case it came back.

"Come on, Jess," she muttered to herself. She was trembling constantly now; her breaths were shallow gasps. "You're going to just have to do it. Yeah, it's going to suck. It's going to really, really suck for the next week or so. But you'll be alive for it to suck. And that matters. Come on. A broken arm also sucks. It'll stop hurting. Other people'd be jealous that you can make your arm just be not broken. Come the fuck on. Just… just man up. Shit, that was bad phrasing."

She pulled off her helmet with her right hand, letting it clatter to the ground. She really should unlace her breastplate, but that was a two-arm job. And her vision greyed out from the pain when she tried. No, she just had to do it.

"One… two… two and a half, two and two-thirds, two and a quarter… wait, shit, that was a step backwards… two and a half again… fuck it. Three!"

Her face flushed from pallid white to livid red. Her back arched, bones cracking and eyes glowing blood red. She slammed her fists into the ground without a care that one was broken. Glowing red spiderweb cracks rippled out from the impact.

The world fuzzed and distorted, the sunlight replaced by a hellish red and black haze clinging to the surfaces. The screams of the damned echoed in the air; the chorus to the yell torn from her own lungs.

The red faded from the world. The black smoke cleared.

Jessica rose, working her jaw. Two tall black jet horns rose from her brow, and a flaming crown burned between them. Two vast bat-like wings had melted their way out through the back of her armour, and now spread wide with infernal majesty. Her bare arm was distended and oversized, the arm of a much taller creature with a wiry athletic strength running through it. Black veins ran along the underside, while the top was covered in shaggy black fur the same colour as her hair. Her nails more resembled claws, just as black and viciously sharp as her horns.

With a frown, she adjusted the sit of her armour until she managed to work a spaded tail free

"Well, could've been better," she muttered to herself. "At least my feet didn't change. And," she stroked her chin, "… no fucking way. Not even any facial hair. Huh." She clenched the fist of her left hand, corded muscles rippling under her skin. "And that arm changed way more than it should have. Neat. And…" she trailed away, hand hovering over her groin. "You know what, no. No, I'm not going to check down there. I'm just going to assume… that everything is… is how it should be. Okay. Keep it together, Jess."

"Wow, craftsmistress, you are lookin' well horny," a minionish voice contributed. "You is almost as dashing in the boo-dwah as I is."

Only one minion would say something like that. Jessica turned, knocking over some scrap with her wings, and flipped the bird at Maxy. He perched up on part of the fallen wall, Fettid, Char and Scyl with him. "So some of you survived," Jessica said. It was a mixed blessing at worst.

"Yeah, we no are wanting to die if we can't get rezes," Maxy said.

"That sucks, spending that long in the dead place," Fettid added. "You can stab the ghosties and stuff, but being dead is so boring. I see you had a make-over. It are very fetching. I bet all the ladies in Versailles are dressin' like that."

That was a comment inane enough that the princess of the Incubi had to pause and stare. "You think they've partly unleashed their true demonic nature and are wearing half a suit of full plate?"

"Wouldn't be the first time," Fettid said with a shrug. "Versailles are very oo-la-la fancy when it are all decadent and there is hornies all over the place dressin' up with the fashion and stuff."

"It are a place of the exploiters of the workers," Char grumbled. "Forgemistress, where are the overlady?"

Jessica waved vaguely in the direction Louise had gone. "Leading it off. Not sure where she is now. I broke my arm and I had to…" she looked at the vacant expressions on the minions' faces. "You don't care about what happened to me, do you?"

"Nope!" Scyl said cheerfully. "So we is gonna have to go that way to help the overlady and bring Maggat back?"

"... wait." Jessica raised her clawed, furred, demonic hand. "Is that regard for someone else's life? From a minion? You lot don't even care about your own lives!"

"Well, it are because Maggat are dead and the overlady are fond of him and she are gonna be mad if she can't get him back," Maxy explained, yellow eyes gleaming. "No other reason."

Jessica looked Maxy up and down. He had his hands behind his back and was attempting to whistle innocuously. "Oh dark gods, you actually like him and don't want him dead."

"He's our mate," Scyl said simply.

"Not mine," Char grumped. "He are a running dog of the landed elite."

"We has been hanging around for a real long time," Maxy explained.

With a sigh, Jessica slumped back, holding her arm. "Yeah. How old are you?"

"Dunno," Scyl said. "We got made before the last time the humies blew 'emselves back to riding on horsies and wearing shiny armour and stuff. So…" he started counting on his fingers. "More 'an eight years," he said, running out of fingers.

Jessica let out an impressed whistle. "If I remember my Surface World History module, that's… that's hundreds of years. Maybe even a thousand?" She blinked. "How are you that old?"

The minions exchanged looks. "Dunno," Maxy said. "I guess we just don't die."

"Nah, we do die. We just come back," Scyl said.

"We don't double-die," Maxy said, glaring back.

"Yeah, well…"

But whatever he'd been about to say was distracted by a masculine scream. "Lookie what we got here!" Fettid hollered, poking her head out from behind a pile of scrap. "I got a spy!" She dragged the Albionese natural philosopher Hooke out by the collar. "I are gonna cut off his fingers one by one until he tells us the secret!"

"What secret?" Jessica demanded.

"Dunno. It's a secret."

"Don't cut his fingers off," she snapped. "It won't help, especially since you have no idea why you're actually torturing him! And torture doesn't even work to get information out of people! Trust me, I'm a demon, I know!"

"Aww. I was gonna do it for fun…"

"Still no!"

The young man blinked. "Um. Thank you thank you thank you," he tried, looking up his unlikely burning-crowned, horned, clawed, spaded-tailed saviour.

He blushed bright red.

Oh. Jessica swallowed. Oh wow. Yes, he was scruffy and too skinny, with a large forehead and a thin nose. But he also had large sensitive-looking grey eyes and he was blushing when he was looking at her in this state. Jessica couldn't help but wish she'd had a little time to freshen up, do her hair, and incidentally not have a giant twisted demonic arm and a burning crown. But hell, she was a blacksmith, and as she knew; strike when the iron was hot. And then, like the iron, get pounded.

It had been a long dry spell, okay?

"You!" she said, jabbing her index claw at the natural philosopher.

"Me?"

"Yes, you. That fat idiot back there said you knew how the golems worked, right?"

"Yes. I mean, I designed most of them. Or at least fixed all the mistakes that everyone else left in their designs. I know them inside and out," he said. He might have been bragging to impress her, but he probably at least knew what was going on.

"Mmm. I'm going to offer you a deal, and it's probably the wor… best deal you're going to get all day. The minions won't hurt me, and I'll make sure you get out of here alive and in one piece that's not missing any important bits. Also, we're probably going to murder that asshole boss of yours who tried to get you killed. And once we're out of here, we can go get coffee together. Or tea in your case. It'll be a date. In return, you tell me how these things work and what their weak points are."

Hooke narrowed his eyes. "Are you working against Albigone?" he checked.

"... I mean, I guess? The overlady thinks it's a fucking stupid idea."

"Oh thank the Founder! You might be evil, but I'd take some evil over the stupidity that's possessed my country. The leaders are both evil and idiots. And treat anyone with any degree of expertise like they're an idiot. Honestly, I'd have just done it if you were going to kill that fat blond lying pillock Sir Hannson." Hooke shuddered. "And I could really do with some tea. Especially with someone as attractive as you."

"I no is gonna stab him. Just for you," Fettid said, giving Jessica a wink. "Us girls gotta stick together."

Jessica bit her lip. Was… was he so overcome by her aura that he couldn't tell that… "You do know I'm a woman?" she checked.

"Oh yes! A beautiful one. Your crown matches your eyes."

Jessica quickly checked her reflection in the metal of her helmet. Yes, they were glowing a burning red. "Really?" she asked.

"Yes. But… one even more beautiful than the ladies at court. It's… it's hard to describe, but…"

She sidled up to him and patted him on the shoulder. "Say no more. Wait, no, I mean 'save the flattery for later'," she said. Jackpot! Acceptably good looking, smart, good with machines, and both into girls and turned on by an incubus aura? Oh, she was going to rock his world when they got out of this! "Now. The golems. Tell me how they work!"

Hooke swallowed, rubbing the back of his neck. "So, you can probably see that there's an inner system of pulleys, chains and mechanisms which work…"

"Like muscles, yes. Motive force?"

"Right. Right." He stepped up to one of the fallen armour suits. "So, we tried to work with a steam engine at first, using plans that Lady Sheffield provided. They just didn't work. Steam engines aren't compact enough to get the required steam pressure for combat effectiveness. So I had to go to something a little more… experimental for the enhanced models."

That sounded promising. Like something you could rupture. "Go on."

"Instead of a furnace, there's a firestone. And instead of a supply of water, there's powered waterstone dissolved in a non-aqueous solvent and then formed into tiny pellets - like blackpowder. Small amounts of waterstone are introduced into the reaction vessel, and then alchemically released. Then while the next pellet is brought into position, the magic induces a vent of the firestone, which flash-boils the water and…"

"Shit." Jessica clenched her left hand into a fist. "That's fucking brilliant. And really stable. The pellets prevent a quenching, while large firestones are relatively unreactive."

"Thank you," Hooke said smugly. "It's nice to hear from someone who actually appreciates this." He lifted up a fallen-off golem head. "Now, the head is the difficult bit." He looked Jessica in the eye. "It shouldn't work. Oh, certainly, the earthstone there serves as a solid basis for a mage to control it, but there's no anima, no breath of life within it. Lady Sheffield somehow imparts some of her power into the earthstone, and that's what brings it to life."

"Grr. I hate all this solid-state engineering," Jessica said, kicking a fallen arm irritably. "I was hoping there was some breakable gizmo in it. So you're saying that it's super stable and reliable, and there's nothing like a spot on the back you can hit for massive damage and make it conveniently blow up?"

"Oh, there are plenty of those in the Mark I."

"Thank badn-"

"Wait, are you talking about the Mark II? In that case, I should think not!" Hooke said, somewhat offended. "I fixed all the mistakes in the Mark II. And I had a lot of work to do, with not enough credit! The Mark I has a vulnerable visor, weak back armour, weak leg armour… but that's what happens when you leave Albigone fanatics in charge of anything that requires technical skill. Their entire ideology is opposed to expertise."

"... okay, we're going to have to share notes later, but that's really not helpful right now," she said. "I can admire craftsmanship better when it's not trying to kill me. Hmm. Hmm. So you're saying that these golems have an energy source that doesn't break, a water supply that can't be punctured, and you can't explain how on earth their motive intellect works?"

"That about sums it up. Sorry," he said.

Her gaze fell onto Char, as he snorted one of his own fireballs and coughed it back up in a belch of flame.

"What?" Maxy asked. He them yelped, as Scyl splashed water in his face then ran away tittering.

Jessica cracked the knuckles on both hands with an audible popping noise. "I have a wicked idea," she said, grinning broadly. "Find me the most complete set of golem bits you can. I am going to work miracles. Dark, devilish miracles."

Hooke swallowed audibly, blushed, and obeyed.


Louise clasped her left hand over her mouth, and tried to slow her breathing. Clammy hair clung to her forehead. Her lungs ached. The air in here was as hot as the Abyss in summer. She clung to her staff, trying to stop it clattering from her shaking arms. She was getting tired. And the way that dratted golem was holding back meant it could keep this up for… hours, probably.

The foundry had a beat. Furnaces roared, metal pounded, and the turbines below the room made the whole room pulse. Windstone whined as they lifted lifts and hoisted hoists. And then there was the other noise, often lost under the racket. The thump-thump-thump of the slow, inexorable steps of the golem. Wandering to and fro. Searching. Searching. Thump. Thump. Thump. And above the sound of the footsteps was the grinding of rollers, the pounding of drop hammers, and the sizzle of moisture on hot metal.

She just… just had to wait until it moved further away. Swallowing, she darted her head out. The golem was stomping around one of the great vats of molten metal. The red light of the furnaces made the many silvery scrapes look like they were bleeding.

It was away from her. She grabbed the ladder next to her, pulling herself up the rungs one by one, trying not to clank. Was the golem coming closer? Or was it just the pounding of the drop hammers?

"Come on!" she growled to herself, struggling to heave herself up the final section of the ladder. Her staff was getting in the way, but she couldn't drop it. With a grunt, she managed to wriggle her legs up and collapsed flat on her back, gasping.

When she had her breath back, she risked another peek. She couldn't see the golem. There was metal moving everywhere in her periphery, but the pounding, whirring mechanisms weren't what she was searching for. And the sound of the beating hammers drowned out any sound of its footsteps.

Back hunched, she eased her way along the gantry. Sudden movements attracted the eye. All she needed was to get a position where she could properly cast one of her nastier spells without the golem charging her down, and then it'd be so much scrap metal. Sure, it might earth her lightning, resist her acid and not burn to death from her fire, but she'd like to see something resist a face-full of Evil-Void-whatever-her-magic-was!

… wait, no, no she wouldn't. That was the kind of thing her mother had spanked them for saying. It was just tempting fate.

But where was the golem? It couldn't be among the pounding trip-hammers on the far side of the room. There wasn't room. What about where glowing red metal ran down stone channels, drip-drip-dripping into the water-columns of shot towers? She'd have heard it climbing, surely. She needed a good vantage point. Like there; over by the hoists over the vats of molten metal in the centre of the room. If she could get to the clanking cargo lifts that hoisted fresh ingots up, she could see just about everything from there.

Pink coils of light shimmered over the surface of her gauntlet as she made her aching way over. "Yes," she breathed, focussing on the hate and the fear she felt. "Come on."

Straightening up, she laid her staff down and then reached out with her left hand, steading it with her right. Her arm trembled with little shakes from sheer exhaustion. She just needed her target. Focus. Focus.

Fat red bolts of power began to ooze over the surface of the gauntlet. In the heat, her breath came in dry gasps. Louise grabbed her hatred and her pain and held them tight, forcing away any thoughts of 'later' or worries about Jessica. Right here and now, she had something she wanted dead and she wasn't going to let it go. She was going to find that metal thing, and smash it.

The clatter of the lifts started up again. Then; thump. Thump. Thump. Right behind her.

"Oh f-" Louise began. She didn't have breath for anything else as she threw herself to the side, barely dodging the metal fist that smashed the guard railing. The golem's arm snapped back like a whip and it rotated at the waist, venting steam from its ports. Tracking her.

The now-unprotected edge was awfully close behind her. Louise gripped her left arm tight and held onto her hatred, trying to circle the monster so it couldn't knock her down into the molten metal below. If she could get into the lift…

As if it was reading her mind it began to slowly advance, the red light leaving it looking bloodied. The purple light grew brighter. As if it was looking forwards to the kill. Louise took another step back, and another.

She had a plan. She let her eyes drift over to the chains. Maybe if she jumped onto them, she swing on them, over to the next gantry. The golem couldn't follow her there.

It read her intent, and moved to block her. Rotating again at the hip, it swing one club-like arm at her in a brutal smash.

It fell for the lie in her posture.

Louise ducked under the swipe and then exploded upwards. As if she was copying one of Eleanore's unarmed punches, she struck out with the palm of her left hand. The Gauntlet, still crackling with dark power, came into contact with the chest of the metal monster.

Her half-formed spell discharged. The impact was a punch in the gut, picking her up and tossing her down the gantry. Metal clattered against metal as she rolled, close enough to the edge that her feet dipped down to feel yawning empty space beneath them. She had just enough time to frantically pull them up and back onto the gantry before slamming into the solid wall down its other end. Louise wheezed, ears ringing. Her stomach muscles burned as she tried to pull herself upright. Hot blood ran down her brow, dripping into one eye. It stung and she screwed her left eye shut.

The golem stood perfectly still. The purple sigil on its brow flickered, pulsing like the heartbeat of a panicked animal. Its left arm moved again, jolty and hesitant. It took one step.

Thump-thump-thump-thump-thump! A second pair of footsteps made themselves known, clattering along the metal walkway that danced under the weight. There was a second golem! It shoulder-checked the first one, sending it staggering back, and followed that up with a deafening punch.

Wide eyes watering in the heat, Louise stared. She couldn't believe what she was seeing before her. That wasn't a golem. Or if it was, it was a golem with the head of a minion. And given that no one with sense would use a minion's brains as the guiding intelligence of a war machine if they had any other choice...

"Maxy?!"