Chapter 18: The Bloody Pursuit

We parted company with Bardrakeu and quickly worked our way down the trail from the academy. It was as Garsa and I neared the aqueduct that we saw the mechanical serpent standing tall like it had earlier, only this time it curved its neck and then its whole body and slowly began to curl itself around the concrete pylon supporting the elevated watercourse.

 Garsa and I exchanged surprised looks.

 “I didn’t realize it could imitate a real snake that way,” I said.

 My companion growled under his breath. “It looks like there really is no stopping this monster.”

 “How are you going to get a skiff?”

 Garsa chuckled dryly. “There are always students boating at the aqueduct on holidays. I’ll just borrow one.”

  As the metallic reptile slowly chugged its way up the aqueduct pylon, we managed to duck under its ascending tail and enter the stairwell. We spent the next few minutes climbing five flights until we reached the exit leading out to the water shuttle embarkation point. 

 Winded from a tiring climb, we stood inside the doorway gasping for breath and watching the great beast pull over the retaining wall of the aqueduct before it slid into open air and splashed into the water. Garsa and I quickly ducked into the stairwell to avoid being drenched, but were soon soaked.

 Students already plying the waters quickly tried paddling out of the falling monster’s way, but the automaton’s sheer bulk sent many hapless young men spinning in their boats and they found themselves cresting a vast wave rolling down the length of the sluice.

 Those were the lucky ones. Other students in skiffs put their arms up over their heads and screamed as the serpent dropped down on them. Soon the mechanical beast was settled on the now reddening waters.

 Off in the distance on the walkway leading to the embarkation point was a figure running in our direction. As he got closer I could see he was a gangly boy with strawberry blond bangs, a red tunic, and a skiff and paddle strapped to his back. He kept furtively glancing at the floating serpent as he headed to the exit we hid in.

 When he entered the doorway, Garsa grabbed him by his skinny shoulders and lifted him off his feet. 

 “Where do you think you’re going?” Garsa asked in a deep, menacing voice.

 His feet still dangling in the air, the boy gaped at Garsa and said: “Please! Let me go. That dragon will kill us all.”

 Garsa set him down but kept his beefy hands locked on the boy’s shoulders. “Only under the condition that you relinquish your skiff.”

 “What was that?” asked the boy.

 “Garsa,” I said, “is this how you’re going to borrow a boat?”

 My companion looked at me with bewildered shock. “You don’t think the current situation warrants extreme measures, Syndeeka? We’re trying to save lives here.”

 I glanced at the still stationary serpent and saw round hatches dotting its length flip open with loud clanks. Hooded men with crossbows rose up through the portals and scanned the area.

 I looked to the nervous boy and gently smiled at him. “We mean you no harm, young man. But we do need to stop that mechanical monster and the people operating it. I promise you I’ll get your boat back to you in the near future.”

 The boy stared at me and gasped. 

 “Let him go, Garsa,” I said.

 “Okay,” said the big pit fighter, removing his hands from the boy’s shoulders, “but I’m taking your boat, son.” 

 Nervously, the young man unstrapped the skiff and paddle from his back and handed them to my associate.

 “I apologize for my companion’s manner, good sir, but I assure you--”

 I stopped as the boy dashed off down the stairwell. 

 Garsa coughed out a short, contemptuous laugh. “He’s going to grow into a pathetic excuse for a man.”

 I grimaced and exhaled loudly through my nostrils. “Can we just concentrate on the matter at hand, please?” 

 Garsa tugged at the wet front of his tunic and looked out the doorway. “Why’d it stop moving?”

 I peered around the exit’s edge. “My guess is they’re trying to replenish water in the serpent’s tanks. It used a lot coming over here, especially just now when it had to work against gravity pulling itself up the aqueduct.”

 Garsa removed his cloak and then reached for his crossbow and an arrow from the quiver on his back. “Let me pick off some of those archers.”

 I took a deep breath. “Okay, but be careful.”

 The brawny pit-fighter pressed the metal bow of his weapon on the floor as he fitted the arrow into it. Then he slid past me into the open and fired.

 I heard a scream as Garsa ducked back into the doorway. “That’s one, anyway. I knew I should have brought my bow instead; these stupid things take too damned long to load.”

 Several arrows just barely missed us as they bounced off the inner doorway and I looked to Garsa. “They’ll need to reload, too. I’m going to try and drop into the water and paddle over to our scaly friend.”

 Garsa raised his eyebrows. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? It’s not as if you have a shield.”

 Taking the skiff off my back I suddenly had a realization. “I don’t know. Maybe I do.”

 Adjusting the belt at my waist, I held up the skiff in front of me.

 My companion snorted. “If their arrows go too deep into the wood, that thing will get riddled with holes and sink.”

 “But if the snake doesn’t start moving anytime soon, I may not have to paddle too far. Wish me luck.”

 Garsa raised up his now reloaded crossbow. “I’ll be right behind you, Syndeeka.”

 I quickly stuck my head out the doorway long enough to gauge the snake’s position in relation to us. It was roughly fifteen feet down the sluice, but the aqueduct’s steady current was obviously causing the automaton to slowly list forward. Pulling back into the exit, I closed my eyes, took a steady, deep breath, then raised my skiff over my face and started sprinting.

 Not long after I’d run out the doorway, several heavy thunks hit the front of my makeshift shield and I knew the bowmen had just wasted their arrows. I could hear Garsa’s pounding footfalls, keeping a steady pace but not overtaking me.

 Something swished passed me from behind and I heard another man’s agonized scream up ahead. Garsa’s aim was sure and true, I had to give him that. 

 Convinced Medon’s bowmen had to reload before they could unleash another volley of arrows my way, I dropped the skiff just under eye-level to appraise my position in relation to the serpent and the water. My boots splashed into a puddle and then, in an instant, I was struggling to keep my balance. I was surprised to discover I was veering diagonally, with the edge of the walkway less than…

 Suddenly, I was weightless for the briefest of moments and barely had time to adjust my skiff’s position. Then the boat slapped the water’s surface with a wet crashing and my knees banged into wood planks.
 

 I felt the wind knocked out of me and quickly darted my head about to access my options. Pink water was dripping off my scalp and shoulders, and my skiff and I were now bobbing on the waves created by the boat’s impact in the water. I desperately scrambled to sit up, reaching a hand behind me to pull the paddle off my back.

 The metal tip of the snake’s tail was no more than five feet ahead. Men further along the mechanical monster’s length were frantically fitting arrows into their crossbows.

 There was a thundering splash behind me and I realized Garsa must have joined me in the water. Slicing the waves with my paddle, I began a steady rowing. The snake’s tail was quickly coming into reach. The bowmen, now rearmed, ran down the length of the automaton to get me and Garsa in their sights. 

 The bolted metal plates of the serpent’s tail were almost brushing my skiff, but looking at the machine’s appendage, I now realized there was nothing on which I could grab to get purchase. If I could paddle my craft up beside the snake’s end I could possibly stand up in my skiff (however unstable that might be) and jam my sword blade between the segmented rings of the mechanical beast and then try and scramble my way up before I slipped off.

 Wait, I thought, didn’t I still have the coiled rope and grappling hook in my bag? I reached my hand into the bag at my hip and realized I must have left those tools behind at the platform.
 

 Very well, I’d just have to try the first plan.

 It was when I steered the skiff in a position next to the serpent tail that a masked bowman clanked across the steel plates of the beast and pointed his weapon at my head. I raised my wooden paddle before my face to shield myself and waited for the arrow to strike.

 He never fired his crossbow, though. Instead, the man uttered a grunting sound. I dropped the paddle between my crossed legs and saw the archer stumbling across the segments of the tail, a bloody arrow in his chest. He tumbled off the snake and splashed into the water.

 I glanced back at Garsa in his own skiff, his crossbow in one hand and a paddle in the other. “Thanks, Garsa. I didn’t think you could reload your crossbow and paddle at the same time.”

 His skiff wobbling erratically on the water as he rowed one-handed, Garsa laughed. “Trust me, Syndeeka, it wasn’t easy.”

 “Do you have a way of getting up onto this thing?” I pointed to the snake’s tail.

 Garsa dropped his crossbow between his legs and reached under his cloak. “Of course. Bardrakeu and I were ready to scale the snake when those men were fighting the Sepulchral Giant’s people.”

 “That was the Imperial guard.”

 “Really?” Garsa pulled a coiled rope off of his belt and held it up. “I need to tie a dagger to one end of this so we can try and lock onto the snake’s tail.”

 Another set of footsteps alerted me to one of Medon’s archers coming upon us.

 “Here,” said Garsa, throwing a rope to me. “And here’s a dagger.”

 He flung the knife over his head and I reached a hand up to grab it. It arced over me and I turned to follow its trajectory, only to see the dagger impale a masked man’s neck.

 The stricken man dropped his crossbow and clutched at his blood-drenched throat.

 I glanced back at Garsa. “How am I supposed to get it now?”

 Garsa gave me a smug smile. “Have faith, Syndeeka.”

 I looked back to the archer, who fell to his knees, knocking his crossbow off the snake. The weapon bounced off the bow of my boat before plopping into the water. 

 “Get it before it sinks!” called Garsa, trying to paddle his skiff with both hands now.

 The metal bow of the weapon dipped under the water, causing the wooden handle to stand up at an angle before it headed down.

 My skiff bobbed crazily as I shifted my weight forward to grab at the crossbow. I dipped my hand into cold water and managed to wrap my fingers around the handle.

 “Good,” said Garsa, “now toss it to me.”

 “Okay,” I said, flinging the crossbow to the big man’s outstretched hand, “but I still don’t have the dagger.”

 Garsa smiled. “I think your opportunity’s coming up.”

 “What?”

 I followed his gaze back to the serpent’s tail. The hooded archer, his tunic and pants dripping blood, slumped over before rolling off the metal tail and splashing into the current.

 I hated the notion of pulling a dagger out of a dead man’s neck, but we were pressed for time.

 Grabbing the archer’s cloak, I yanked the corpse up against the side of the skiff and pulled the dagger out of his throat.
 

 Then I sat back in my skiff and quickly tied the exposed end of the rope into a knot before fitting the dagger into the loop.

 “All right,” said Garsa, “now you just need to uncoil the rope and swing the end with the dagger at the--”
 

 “I’ve done this before, Garsa,” I interrupted, unwinding the rope. “I’m a mercenary, remember?”

 Garsa just laughed. 

 Scanning the length of the serpent for additional archers, I began unwinding the rope. As I got a sufficient length of hemp pulled out, I noticed there weren’t any more archers heading in our direction. Then I heard the unmistakable hiss of steam.

 I looked to Garsa, who was now maybe a foot from my own skiff. “I don’t think they’re concerned with us right now.”

 Garsa, reloading his original crossbow which he cradled between his knees, gave me a quizzical look. “Are the Sepulchral Giant’s men about to shove out?”

 Another loud hiss echoed off the aqueduct’s walls.
 

 Twirling the daggered end of the rope over my head, I let a hiss of my own escape through clenched teeth. “I hope I do this right. Otherwise, we may have to paddle pretty hard soon.”

 I let the larger length of rope slide out through my fingers, giving the dagger circling over me a wider orbit. Turning my head to the snake’s end, I made a rapid calculation in my mind and then cast the rope out like a fishing line.

 The dagger sailed down from the air and clinked on metal serpent scales. I started pulling the rope back within lengths using both hands. The dagger scraped across the curved links of the serpent’s tail till it finally slid between two segments and caught. 
 

 I glanced to Garsa and nodded. “Alright, I think I hooked it.”

 The big man grabbed the rim of my skiff and used it to pull his own boat up against mine. “Good. Just keep pulling the rope in till it’s taut.”
 

 “And climb out.” I inhaled. “I hope the next few minutes go smoothly.”
If only they had.

 As I sat there taking in more rope, the now-clear water around us began to shimmer. Soon I could feel myself bobbing up and down as waves began rolling down the length of the dormant automaton.

 Garsa and I exchanged nervous looks.
 

  He made a sound like he was clearing his throat. “They’ve turned the machinery on. Why else would the water be sloshing about?”
 

 “Okay,” I said in as calm a voice as I could muster, “I think the rope is taut now.”

 I went hand over hand across the now tight length of rope, feeling my skiff sliding across the water to the rim of the snake’s tail. 

 There was another loud blast of steam further up the train of serpent links.

 The green metal bulk of the tail cast me into shadow and my boat banged into the mechanical creature. I shakily stood up in the skiff, feeling almost seasick as the waves rose and fell beneath me. This wasn’t like when Mala and I climbed up the inner flanks of the serpent when it was still a stationary base in the courtyard of the academy.

 Tentatively, I placed a boot sole on curved scales and tried pulling myself up. 

 I was yanked back by the serpent’s sudden burst of momentum. The automaton began pulling ahead and I almost toppled backwards into my boat.

 But I was still holding the rope, which was attached to the now moving snake. I desperately tried locking my feet under the wooden crossbar of my skiff so I wouldn’t fly out of the boat and get dragged bodily through the cold water. 

 I glanced back at Garsa who was paddling his skiff like mad to stay in my wake. He closed in just within reaching distance so I held out my paddle to him.

 "Grab onto it," I called.

 He leaned forward and reached a long arm out and just barely got his fingers on the thick end.

 I was still clinging to the rope with my other hand, my skiff somehow managing to stay against the snake's tail.

 Practically wrenching my other arm from its socket, Garsa stood in his own skiff and quickly jumped for my boat. His full weight tugged me down as his feet slammed into the bow of my skiff, almost causing me to lose balance and topple into the water.

 "Let me have some of the rope," he said, "and then you can try and climb onto the serpent and I'll follow."

 I raised the rope in my hand up so he could grab onto the free part hanging down in the boat. Garsa pulled his section till it was taut and I realized this might actually make my getting purchase onto the snake easier.

 I replaced my boot sole back onto the curved rim of the serpent's tail, let go the paddle, and extended my newly freed hand forward to grab some rope further up the snake. Without thinking, I jumped onto the hull of the mechanical beast and quickly scrabbled my way up.

 I looked back and saw Garsa preparing to climb the side of the serpent's tail, too, but called out to him: "Can you get my skiff?"

 Garsa stopped his forward motion. "What?"

 "I need a shield for when we get into firing range."

 Garsa briefly glanced back at his own boat, which was falling far behind the snake now.

 He growled under his breath and looked to me. "Fine. Just let me get halfway up and I'll try and grab your skiff."

 "Thank you." I straddled the curved scales with my arms held out for balance.

 Garsa reached down into my boat and grabbed the crossbar with his free hand and then placed a leg onto the side of the serpent and pulled himself up the tight rope. When he got both feet firmly on the side of the tail, he hefted the skiff out of the water and then slowly worked his way up to my place.

 Water splashed off the hull of the boat in thick droplets as the big man swung it around his body to hand it to me. That's when I noticed five arrow shafts jutting out of the bottom.

 "I guess the acacia wood was still thick enough to keep me from drowning," I said, fitting the skiff over my arm like a shield.

 "You were lucky," said Garsa.

 Since I had a shield, I took the lead and we clambered up the snake's tail while the flanks ahead of us began undulating back and forth in a serpentine fashion. Through the long, thin windows of the aqueduct walls I could see the golden light of the late noon sun and make out the Equoci capital, Riga Etirsuki, across the valley. Those windows were passing at a rapid rate. We had to be moving at least as fast as the water shuttles, so I knew we didn't have much time if we were to stop Medon and his followers.

 I unsheathed my blade and pressed on. 

 As we progressed past the tail section it became harder to keep our feet from slipping as the circular links of the snake were shifting left and right. I tried putting my sword arm out to keep from toppling over and rolling off the serpent, but the very surface I was treading kept sliding beneath my boots.

 Still, in spite of the sea storm challenge, Garsa and I were making steady progress forward. I could see, far ahead, the snake’s head which was elevated from the current by its raised neck. I counted five zigzagging flanks between us and our goal and believed that we might still be able to get to Medon and Juniusey before it was too late.

 Up ahead on the next flank was a round metal door, so I was expecting archers to spring it open and rise up out of the portal just  enough to fire a volley of arrows at Garsa and me. Certainly, they had to hear the clanking of our shoes on the metal hull of the serpent.

 That’s not what happened, though.

 Just as my companion and I were approaching the hatch, I suddenly felt a sensation of floating through the air. But the walls of the sluice began rising up and I heard a trickling sound. Nervously glancing about, I saw that the metal creature I was treading across was spilling over with waves. We were sinking.

 I hadn’t realized this automaton could submerge, but now my boots were being lapped with water, which quickly rose up to my waste. The head and neck of the monster were still above the water level, though.

 I looked back to Garsa. “They must be desperate to get rid of us. I wish we’d both brought our skiffs.”

 Gasa, his head darting around to take in the deluge, made a disgusted sound. “The only thing I can do is try to impale this monster with my sword and hope my blade catches on something.”

 He drove his sword into the streaming water, but it didn’t seem to catch on anything. Soon the pit fighter was caught up in the waves and floated off of the serpent and began to recede into the distance.

 I had hoped that the weight of his steel would have anchored him onto the mechanical beast, but that wasn’t the case.

 My own skiff weighed me down for just a little longer, but the sheer weight of the water rushing into me caused me to lose my footing. I fell forward onto my “shield” and soon felt the buoyancy of the craft on the waters. Bobbing on the waves, I raised my head up over the rim of my craft to see the serpent’s head pulling away.

 I supposed I could try to paddle to catch up, but all I had to row with now was my blade.

 I looked down into the water and saw a green blur of scales and snake segments as the automaton glided to its bloody fate. Garsa had tried to stab at the serpent with his sword and the water level in the sluice was no higher than twelve feet, so what did I have to lose? Leaning over the rim of my skiff, I drove my blade down, stabbing the shimmering current. The tip of my weapon brushed metal scales and I could hear a muffled grating coming up from the water. Theoretically, if I just kept holding my sword down something would eventually snag on it and I’d be pulled forward with the snake.

 “Syndeeka!” called Garsa from behind me.

 I turned my head back to look at my companion and was shocked to see the big pit fighter skimming along the surface of the water, his head barely staying above the waves and one end of the rope firmly in his submerged hands. He was moving at a rapid pace and I had no time to move my skiff out of his way.

 I was practically jolted out of the boat as he collided with the stern. I fell forward and stopped my collision with the inside of the bow using the flat of my left hand. Pulling my sword from the water, I looked back and saw that Garsa was now clinging to the edge of the stern with one hand while gripping the rope end with the other.

 There was a foamy wake trailing behind him, and that’s when I realized my skiff was moving. 

 “It’s good to see you again, Garsa,” I said, “but how do we secure my boat to the serpent?”

 Catching his breath as he crested the waves, Garsa nudged his head. “What about the crossbar of your skiff? You could tie the rope to that.”

 I regarded the cloth-wrapped wooden plank I sat on. “No, I don’t think that would be a good idea. The boat would flip over if we did that.”

 Garsa exhaled, and I realized he must be cold in that pummeling current. “There are arrows sticking out the bottom of your skiff, right, Syndeeka?”

 “Do you want to tie the rope to one of them?”

 He coughed. “Yes, that might be a solution to our problem.”

 An idea occurred to me. “Or…you could tie the rope to one of your arrows and shoot it at the bow of the skiff. You’d have to make your way to the other side of the boat, though.”

 “Wait…” he took in a deep draught of air… “I think I know how to pull that off. I’ll have to let go of the boat for a few seconds, though, and let the snake drag me ahead. But could you take an arrow from the quiver on my back first?”

 “Oh! Certainly.” I leaned forward and reached my hand over his shoulder and fished an arrow out of his quiver then handed it to Garsa.

 “Thanks,” he said, transferring the arrow from the hand clinging to the skiff to the one holding the rope.

 “Here,” I said, “let me help you with that.”

 I worked a length of rope through his clutching fingers and wrapped it as best I could around the arrow shaft.

 “Does this look okay to you?” I asked.

 Garsa smiled. “It’s fine. Now hand it to me and I’ll be on my way.”

 I did as he requested and he clutched the arrow in a tight fist, pulled his arm off the inner rim of my boat, and went under the water.

 Immediately, I felt a bumping lurch and hoped to whatever gods were behind creation that he hadn’t gotten caught on the arrows sticking out the bottom of my skiff. For all I knew, he could drown down there if he got stuck.

 My worst fears were soon submerged as he came out in front of my skiff and raced forward up the length of the sluice. As he receded into the distance, he managed to swing his body around in the water. He pulled himself up the rope trailing behind the snake till he had a good length of hemp gliding on the waves before him. Then he raised his dripping crossbow, aimed in my direction, and fired.

 Like a fisherman’s harpoon, the arrow slammed into the bow of my boat with a loud thunk. Suddenly, I found myself knocked on my back as the stern of my watercraft lurched forward and I began a steady glide on the waters of the aqueduct.

 Up ahead, Garsa started pulling himself along the taut rope till he was finally up against the bow of my skiff, smiling.

 “Didn’t think I could do it, did you?” he asked.

 “I didn’t say that. Do you want to climb out of the water for a spell? There’s not much room in the skiff for two, but I can always get out and hang on that rope. I don’t mind getting wet; I’ve been that way most of the afternoon.”

 Garsa chuckled. “It’s cold in this water, Syndeeka. I don’t think you’d want to be getting pounded by freezing waves on my account. Plus, I have to consider your sex– your kind have a frailer constitution.”

 Oh, yes, Garsa, we weak females can’t handle anything harsh. I wanted to jump into the water just to show him up, but then I realized he’d learn if he did stay in the water.

 “Well,” I said, “if you insist. Anway, they have to come up soon because I don’t think it will be long before the archers will be running out of air.”

 Garsa pulled his head forward and then looked back at me. “Looks like we’re almost on the other side of the valley.”

 From down here in the water sluice, it was harder to see the valley through the tall windows cut in the aqueduct walls, but the city skyline was becoming a lot more prominent, so I knew my companion was probably right. 

 I let hot air hiss through clenched teeth. “We’re running out of time.”

 Soon the two aqueduct walls either side of us fell back and we entered a kind of crossroads where our channel was bisected by a curving second waterway. Our own sluice continued further up in the direction we’d been heading, but the serpent swayed to the left and turned into the curved channel. 

 My skiff swung sideways on the rope like the weight at the end of a pendulum. Garsa and I came close to colliding with the sluice wall, so I quickly paddled my with the flat end of my sword to get us aligned with the snake’s position. The serpent’s sudden move also brought up some choppy waves, but soon the waters settled as the engine of war continued its trek.

 Through the tall windows I could make out vast brick domes and apartment towers bathed in the golden light of a setting sun.

 I looked to Garsa who was still clinging to the skiff with a wet arm on the inside of the bow and asked: “Is this the way to the palace?”

 Garsa glanced ahead at the curving walls on either side of us. “I can only assume so, Syndeeka.”

 “If only we could find some way to climb the submerged flanks of the snake to get to the head.”

 “I think we may have another problem soon. Look up there, coming round the bend.”

 Before us was a water shuttle curving into view, its oars rising and falling with a steady rhythm. Even from this distance I could see that there were people on the topdeck. Several of these were dressed in sleeveless crimson doublets which marked them as off-duty oarsmen. Many of the passengers stood upon seeing the raised serpent’s head. The ship was maybe forty feet away from the serpent, but that distance was closing fast.

 Garsa and I stared ahead, anticipating trouble.

 The narrow galley raised its oars and briefly stopped dead in the water.

 “They’re going to have to recalibrate the oars so they can pull back,” said Garsa.

 “How long will that take?” I asked, terrified at the water shuttle’s prospects.

 “Not long. I used to row one of those boats before I took up pit fighting. If I recall correctly, it should still take them a few minutes, though.”

 The skiff began rocking. I looked about and saw waves rolling from underneath us and heading left and right before sloshing against the retaining walls of the sluice. A sudden force knocked me on my back and I desperately scrambled to pull myself out of the bottom of the skiff. When I did I noticed we were rising.

 “Uh,” grunted Garsa. “I think they’re going to try to ram the water shuttle.”

 As the last rivulets of water spilled from either side of my boat, the green flanks of the serpent rose up and soon we were on solid ground.

 Garsa stood up, looked at the long scaly automaton laid out before us, and unsheathed his steel. “Now’s as good a time as any to try our assault on the Sepulchral Giant.”

 I jumped out of the boat, my own blade in hand. “I’ll still need my shield.”

 “Not a problem,” said Garsa, stooping down and pulling the arrow from my skiff’s bow.

 There was a lurching sensation and we both almost toppled over, just barely managing to get our bearings.

 Sunlight flickered across us as the windows of the aqueduct started moving at a faster rate. Ahead of the serpent, the water shuttle was getting larger on the concrete horizon. If the crew didn’t get their oars in the water soon then it wouldn’t be long before the golden waves were tinged crimson. 

 Grabbing the crossbar of my skiff and raising the boat before me, I looked to Garsa. “Let’s put a stop to this.”

 Garsa waved me forward with a grin. “After you, milady.”

 One deep breath, my eyes closed and my mind visualizing Mala, and I found myself running forward into danger.

 The flanks of the steel snake began undulating from side to side as the mechanical beast picked up speed. Before it was the water shuttle, which now had finally lowered its oars and begun pushing away up the sluice. I didn’t know how fast this machine could go before it wasted the water in its tanks and would need to recharge, but it was pretty obvious it had a good chance of overpowering the modest galley before it. 

 The scaly flank before me curved away and I managed to jump onto it, almost losing my footing on its wet skin in the process. I stopped my onward charge just long enough to hold out my sword arm in an attempt to regain my balance. (Damn the leather soles of my boots!) When I had righted myself, I resumed my run. 

  A few feet before me was a metal hatch which soon swung open. A masked archer climbed out and pointed his crossbow at me. I raised my shield up, which obstructed my sight and forced me to go on instincts. I could feel my opponent’s arrow thunk into the planks of the skiff, but even after that I kept the barrier before me. Soon I felt a thudding and heard a gasp as my skiff slammed into the man. I didn’t stop but kept pumping my legs.

 The masked man tumbled across the serpent flank until he fell into the water.

 In my desire to get to Medon and Juniusey, I’d completely forgotten the open hatch the archer had climbed out of. He’d stepped a few feet from it when he’d confronted me, but now I’d crossed that distance. The toes of my boots slammed into the metal rim of the hatchway and I practically somersaulted into the opening. But then my skiff slapped into the portal and broke my fall. I banged my knees on the planks of the boat, but at least I didn’t sail head-first into the chamber below. 

 I heard metallic footfalls coming from behind me.

 “Don’t go lagging behind now, dear,” said Garsa as he ran ahead of me. 

 Fool! At least I had a shield.

 Garsa continued his heroic sprint, even jumping a few twisting flanks up ahead. Meanwhile, I awkwardly slid off my skiff and unsteadily got to my feet.

 I looked forward and noticed to my dismay that the snake seemed to be closing the distance between itself and the fleeing water shuttle. Some of the passengers on the deck tried jumping from the ship to the neighboring walkways, but most of them missed and plunged into the waters of the sluice.

 I took up my makeshift shield, raised my sword, and continued my run. 

 Garsa was making embarrassingly good time and was almost halfway up the length of the mechanical monster. No, I thought, this is not a competition between him, no matter what he thinks. My best friend was dead and soon countless others would be joining her if we didn’t stop these mad insurgents. 

 I kept up my pace, ever mindful of slippery surfaces, jagged steam pipes, and new portals. 

 Garsa actually seemed to be coming on another set of Medon’s henchmen, who were rising one after another in a group of three from one of the hatchways. He loosed an arrow from his crossbow into one of the men, but another engaged him in the sword while the third one pointed his  crossbow at my companion.

 “Garsa, get down!” I screamed. 

 I doubted he heard me from this distance, but he seemed to notice the archer out of the corner of his eye and quickly brained the man with his own crossbow. The archer fell on his back and Garsa engaged the swordsman with his steel. The two men frantically struck and parried with their swords, but Garsa seemed to be besting his opponent with his superior fighting skills.

 Then the man he’d knocked down pulled himself up and pointed his weapon at Garsa.

 To my horror, the archer’s arrow hit Garsa just under his sword arm. I knew from experience that the shaft had probably punctured a lung. The brawny pit fighter stumbled a bit, giving his fellow swordsman the opening he needed to pierce his chest. Blood spilled down his torso and legs and my friend (yes, friend) crumpled to the scaly skin beneath him.

 You idiot! You should have brought your skiff, I thought, tears filling my eyes. I blinked till water spilled down my cheeks and I could see again. 

 Beyond the place where poor Garsa lay, beyond the several flanks that marked the front quarters of the serpent, and beyond the raised snake’s head where Medon and Juniusey stood was the water shuttle, soon to meet the metallic beast and be crushed under its vast mass. I didn’t even know that I could get to the front in time to put a stop to this carnage, but distance and pain and sorrow weren’t going to keep me from trying.

 My boots pounded the metal scales of the monster as I pressed forward, hoping beyond all reason that I could still save lives and stop the world from crashing down to rubble.

 Repeating Garsa’s feat of jumping from one undulating flank to another was hardly as breezy for me as it had been for him, but I somehow managed, even though I slipped and sprawled on all fours once. It wasn’t long before I reached the still-open portal where the two warriors responsible for my friend’s death resided. Garsa’s bloody corpse lay splayed out in front of the opening, but I quickly skirted his remains to meet his killers. The cloaked, masked men saw me coming but simply dropped down into their chamber as I ran at them. 

 That’s when I saw why.

 In the narrow confines of the sluice, the small, thin galley that had been trying to evade this ancient engine of war had nowhere to turn when the serpent finally slammed into it like a steel tidal wave. The water shuttle exploded into a cloud of kindling. Men, women, and children flew in all directions. Some bounced off the sluice walls like ripe tomatoes while others plunged into the waves before being barreled over by the divine monster and drowning.

 There was a jolt that shuddered through the hide of the metal beast as it made contact with its prey. Right as this happened, the enemy archer pulled the hatch down over his head and I jammed my sword in just as the door clanged shut. Dropping my skiff, I clasped both hands tightly on the hilt of my weapon while my legs flew out from under me. Soon I came back down on solid ground and looked at the scene unfolding ahead. 

 The serpent plowed ahead through the floating timber of the wrecked water shuttle. Clinging to bobbing pieces of wood were passengers and oarsmen, some of whom were soon crushed by the unstoppable onslaught of the metal juggernaut. But many were able to paddle to the sides of the sluice in time to save their own lives.

 And a few, I was surprised to discover, had been knocked onto the walkways either side of the sluice. Several of these were oarsmen, who (in spite of their injuries) now pulled out the swords they carried in the unlikely case of aqueduct pirates. It wasn’t long before the oarsmen began jumping across the gaps between the walkways and the serpent. 

 While some of them slipped off the curved sides of the snake and splashed into the water, three managed to land on the metallic beast. Soon  portal hatches started opening and armed men jumped out to confront the invaders.

 I wasn’t sure how Medon’s followers knew to come out at that time. Maybe it was just that they expected they’d be needed after impact with the water shuttle. Or maybe they had some ingenious communications system between them.

 Regardless, I realized that soon I’d be able to pull out my sword and join in the fray near the front of the monster. 

 It was several seconds before the metal hatch holding my blade down swung up and to the side. When it did, I immediately yanked my weapon out of the chamber and stood with my makeshift shield held just under my eyes. The two masked men who’d killed Garsa poked their heads out and both pointed crossbows at me. I raised the skiff and felt the thud of arrows penetrating its wooden planks. 

 It would take too long for them to reload their crossbows, so they’d probably come climbing out with their swords at the ready. Sure enough, the men started clambering out of the portal.

 Wait, I thought, why did I need to waste time fighting them?

 When they were halfway out, I simply reached sideways, grabbed the rim of the open hatch door, and slammed it onto their heads. They both screamed as the door banged their skulls. When they began sinking back into the chamber below, I completed shutting the door… onto their still outstretched arms. The crunching of bone mingled with screams, and blood pooled out onto the scales beneath spasming limbs. 

 There was nothing left but to press forward and meet Medon’s warriors as they came. In the wake of the water shuttle collision, the steel serpent picked up speed, and the flanks ahead of me began whipping back and forth like banners in a hurricane. 

 This wasn’t going to be easy, I realized, but the image of Mala splashing into the waters of the king’s chamber set my resolve.

 I pumped my legs in a rapid sprint. 

 Before me was a section of the serpent curving towards the flank I was on. Just keep moving, I thought. 

 I leaped into the air and sailed through space. At the end of my arc was the forward flank, which was now pulling away. My bootsoles clanged onto its retreating scales and I felt like I was about to lose my balance and topple backwards into the waves. Quickly, I held my skiff forward and let its weight act as a counterbalance.

 Near the front flank of the automaton were the three oarsmen who’d managed to alight onto the mechanical beast. Two were engaged in ferocious sword fights with masked insurgents, but the third was stumbling about, clutching his chest. He staggered and fell on his side, dropping his hand from his tunic and the bloody arrow shaft he’d been concealing. (What a brave soul, I thought.) 

 Beyond the curving aqueduct wall to my right the outline of the Imperial palace (three domes topping a massive rectangle of stone) swung into view. We were definitely almost to our rendezvous with destruction– and I still hadn’t reached the front flank of the serpent. The automaton had picked up so much speed that I was finding it difficult to even stand up straight, let alone run forward. 

 Wouldn’t Medon be out of steam soon and be forced to refuel? Then it occurred to me that the only way for the serpent to reach the palace from the watercourse was to smash through an aqueduct wall. This was a suicide mission! Killing the passengers and crew of the water shuttle wasn’t done out of any malice, but simply because they were in the wrong place and the snake needed to build up enough speed to transform into a colossal projectile.

 But it would have to make itself straight like an arrow. 

 And that’s when my fortune took a turn. While the serpent continued to accelerate, the swishing of its flanks began to subside until the metal monstrosity stretched itself out to its full length. There was one last massive exhalation of steam jets from the pipes dotting the monster. The force pulling me back dropped to nothing and I realized they’d either cut the motors or expended all their water. 

 The beast was now coasting. 

 The curving water sluice straightened out into a long concrete corridor that ended in an intersecting waterway up ahead. And above its retaining wall was the Deity Imperator's palace. 

 I’d been hoping to work my way up to the serpent head and slay Juniusey and her giant nephew with my trusted sword.

 No such luck. I was on a one-way trip to oblivion. 

 I wasn’t going to save Bardrakeu’s father, I wasn’t going to thwart the assassination of the Tyrant Ruler, I wasn’t going to stop a civil war from ensuing, and I wasn’t going to prevent the fall of the Equoci Empire and the coming of chaos.

 I looked to the front of the serpent and saw that the two surviving oarsmen had killed their opponents and were heading to the raised snake’s head. Could they stop Medon? No, I thought. Even if they somehow managed to climb up the beast’s neck and confront the madman controlling the serpent, the kola’s had already been cast. This engine of war was hurtling to its final fate.

 Are you at the bow or the stern? 

 Neither, Mala. I’m just in the middle of the madness.

 She was dead and the wonderful world she’d hoped to initiate with the turn of a key would never come to pass. If I’d just handed that key to the Emperor, none of this would be happening. Nebiat would still be alive. Garsa and Calendra and Dusana would still be annoying me with their foolish words. And I would still have my nearest and dearest friend and confidante. 

 I’d come with so much, but now I’d be leaving with nothing but shattered hopes and dark memories.

 The oarsmen jumped up from the base of the serpent neck, attempting to get purchase, but couldn’t reach the head. And then Juniusey dipped her ladle into her bag and let a paralyzing snow fall on them.

 A deep, heavy sigh escaped my lips.

 As the retaining wall rushed upon us, the serpent let out a bright hot jet of fire. The concrete barrier simmered and smoked. 

 Should I take my skiff and dash off the serpent and drop into the water and try and save myself?

 What did it matter? The weight pressing down on me made me want to fall to my knees.

 I found a thin line between two metal segments of the serpent and drove my sword down into it. Then I raised my shield up in front of my face and closed my eyes. I didn’t know how bad the impact with the retaining wall would be, but I was in no mood to be mangled before death.

 Heat from the serpent’s flame on the wall spread and I could feel a desert warmth in the air around me. I clutched tightly to the hilt of my blade, hoping the impact would knock me unconscious before we plunged down into the palace. 

 A tremendous banging shuddered through the serpent. The ensuing jolt pulled my hands off the hilt of my sword and I fell onto my back. I felt the wind knocked out of my lungs and found my eyes squinting in the rays of the setting sun.

 Water sloshed over my legs, torso, and arms, and I just barely lifted my head up to keep from choking. There was a sinking and rising sensation as the metal serpent started bobbing under my body.

 With quick, cautious hands I pulled myself up to sitting position and stared before me.

 Small, light waves receded from the skin of the automaton as it settled back to a level position on the surface of the water. We had not plummeted into open air and crashed into the palace below, afterall, but had somehow managed to remain up in the aqueduct sluice.

 The burnt retaining wall (still singed by the serpent’s breath) was starting to crack. Medon and Juniusey were no longer standing atop the beast’s head. My eyes soon pulled down and found their charred remains on the front flank next to the paralyzed oarsmen, who amazingly enough still lay prostrate on the serpent.

 The barrier hadn’t shattered from the force of impact. No, but it was about to crumble. Black clouds of smoke rolled away from the smoldering wall and glided across the water towards me. 

 Maybe I could still get to the head. If I could find some way to climb up the snake’s neck then I could reach those levers Medon had been tugging on and turn off the fire jet.

 What did I have to lose now?

 Given how hot that flame was, probably my skin.

 Very well. I was hoping for at least a painless death, but if I could avert disaster then that hardly mattered.

 I surveyed the length of serpent before me and found no masked henchmen ahead (maybe they’d been knocked off when the automaton struck the wall?), pulled myself up to my full height, and yanked my sword out of the snake’s steel skin. I doubted my skiff shield would be much use to me as I neared the flaming region of the serpent, but I decided to hold it before me in case any cloaked insurgents popped up out of the portals.

 Then I started running.

 I realized I still had no plan for getting up to the snake’s head or, for that matter, protecting myself from being burnt to a crisp. Suddenly, I felt  damned foolish.

 As I neared the front flank it occurred to me why the automaton hadn’t smashed through the aqueduct wall. The head itself, when it was at water level, would have made a perfect battering ram. But those oarsmen, having come onto the serpent from the front, had forced Medon and Juniusey to keep the head aloft for their own protection, thus hobbling their ability to smash out of the waterway. 

 Maybe luck was with me.

 While most of the water had receded off the scales beneath my boots, it was still somewhat slippery. At least the flanks had stopped moving and had straightened out to one long path– The Diamond Highway with the Divine Despot at its end? 

 Up ahead was the round hatch of a portal. Did I have to search the chamber beneath it? Well, I could run all the way back to the tail end of the serpent to retrieve my rope, but that would probably take longer.

 I stopped, got on my knees, and grabbed the metal handle of the door. Even before I’d finished pulling it open a young man with long dark hair framing a long sad face jumped out, a sword in his hand. I raised my own blade over my face in a defensive stance. 

 He nervously pulled his hood over his head and raised his sword above him. Maybe he thought he could just hack at me, but I had the advantage since I could easily pierce his torso.

 “I need your help,” I said. “Your people repelled down from the Sepulchral Giant’s balloon with ropes. Do you still have one?”

 The young man (no older than the students at the academy) eyed me with fear and contempt.

 My impatience growing, I poked the front of his tunic with my blade and steadily rose from the ground to face him. When I was at eye level with the insurgent, I placed the tip of my sword at his throat. 

 “I don't want to have to kill you if I don’t need to,” I said, “but we’re running low on time.”

 To my surprise, he dropped his sword and it clanged on the scales at our feet. “I…I can’t do this anymore. We were supposed to die heroic deaths.”

 I sighed. “This isn’t the way. Your people would just throw the whole world into disarray.”

 Oblivious to the swordpoint at his throat, the young man darted sideways, ran to the edge of the snake’s flank, and jumped into the water. He was gone, leaving a trail of blood in his wake.

 I wiped the red off my blade using a pant leg and knelt down by the open hatchway.

 Below were the rungs of a ladder which descended into a cramped space within the serpent. I quickly climbed down into the compartment and looked about me. 

 The walls were little more than a metal meshwork and beyond them were cogs and wheels– the kind of mechanical parts I’d seen when I’d destroyed the brass god at the palace a few years ago. The machinery wasn’t moving so I figured the metal monster really had run out of steam after its fierce acceleration.

 I searched the tiny compartment for what seemed like too long a time, but then found a coil of hemp stashed in the meshwork near my feet. Thinking the unknown gods I always swore by must be working in my favor, I retrieved the rope and headed back up to the surface. 

 When I poked my head out the portal opening I was assailed by thick clouds of smoke. I quickly blinked my eyes to wash out the burning sensation. Then I took my cloak and wrapped it around my mouth and nose. 

 At the front of the serpent, the concrete wall was spiderwebbed with thick cracks which spewed smoke. The jet of flame from the steel reptile’s open jaws had dwindled somewhat, but was still burning into the barrier.

 Maybe I could wait for the snake to use up its fuel? No, that would be too risky. I just needed to forge ahead and try and kill its fiery breath entirely.

 Working my way to the front of the serpent took less time than I’d anticipated, but the plumes of smoke from the smoldering retaining wall continued to burn my eyes, and the hot air dried out my wet clothes and beaded my face with sweat. Before me now were Medon and Juniusey’s charred corpses, locked in a final embrace which pinned the Sabantahen Sister under her nephew’s massive weight. Next to them were the fallen oarsmen who, despite lacking the Giant’s bulk, had somehow managed not to have been thrown clear of the serpent. I wanted to check the laters’ vital signs, but felt pressed for time. 

 I stared up the length of the snake’s neck. If only there were some kind of rungs I could climb. Unwinding the coil of rope in my hands, I made a large loop at one end, figuring I could swing it up and hopefully catch it on one of the levers on top. Still, I needed something to stand on to get a better reach. I stared at the body of the Sepulchral Giant.

 That might do.

 But for his vast size, he was unrecognizable. His shiny black mask had burned off his face, leaving a charred deathshead with swollen cheekbones and nose and an immense lantern jaw. While his body radiated a warmth greater than he’d had in life, the waves brought up by the serpent’s collision with the wall had quelled the flames that had burnt him to a husk.

 I knelt down beside his ashen corpse and grabbed at his tunic, which began disintegrating in my hands. Still, I was able to pull the Sepulchral Giant’s body off his dead aunt and drag it to the base of the serpent’s neck, then lean it against the beast’s metal skin. Almost immediately, the huge corpse began sliding sideways and I had to strain to push it back into place.

 I needed something else to prop it up. 

 I looked to Juniusey, now hairless and with a reddened, shriveled face like a rotted plum. Very well, you hateful old crone. I’d wanted the satisfaction of avenging Mala’s murder by driving my sword through you, but you’d still be of use to me. 

 After I’d finally leaned the old woman’s corpse against Medon’s remains, I put my hands on the giant’s shoulders and hoisted myself up. When my boots were planted on top of him I used part of my cloak to insulate my hand as I placed my palm on metal scales to support myself. 

 I still wasn’t quite to the top of the serpent’s neck, but I could make out seven tall iron levers rising above the snake’s head like a crown. One was pushed all the way forward, so I assumed that must be the one operating the reptile’s flaming breath. 

 I twirled the lassoed end of the rope over my head and then flicked it forward. Sadly, it failed to catch on the target lever and came falling back down.

 The smoke was getting even thicker and my eyes were practically on fire now. I felt so tired, demoralized, and deeply alone. Here I was trying to undue my deceased friend’s action in the king’s chamber, while all the while I missed her so terribly that my heart felt like rupturing.

 Be brave, I told myself. Mala may have been mistaken, but she only wanted to make a better world. The least I could do was try my hardest to keep it from getting any worse. 

 My mind made up, I squinted through the billowing clouds of black smoke and began twirling the rope again. It was almost impossible to make out the levers now through the sudden onslaught of increased vapors, but I had a muscle memory from when I’d initially thrown the rope out. 

 Concentrate.

 I shut my eyes to stop the burning and cast my rope out.

 There was a long space of empty time. Then I pulled on the rope and I was surprised to feel it tighten on something above. I wasn’t sure if I’d snagged the lever or not, but my instincts told me to tug with all my might.

 I did and immediately tumbled off the Giant’s shoulders.

 Now I was swinging back and forth on the rope. I let go and landed on my feet, stumbling a little.

 Very well. I’d done what I’d set out to do. Now what? I couldn’t stand around to see if I’d stopped the flame, and there were two paralyzed oarsmen lying near me. 

 The heat was only getting worse and I could feel it rising up through my bootsoles. I knelt down by a stout, muscular black man with ritual scars on his face and bruised limbs, placed a hand to his neck, and felt a pulse. That was a relief.

 I tried the other man and found nothing. Sad, but that still left the first. 

 I couldn’t leave the fellow here and didn't think he’d simply float if I pushed him into the water. I looked back to where I’d left my skiff. It was starting to singe at the edges, so I quickly retrieved it, stepped over to the side and let it splash into the water –I figured the snake’s bulk would block any current that might cause it to drift away. 

 Returning to the prone oarsman, I grabbed at his arms and dragged him to the side of the serpent. Then I nearly broke my back lifting him up. There was a good chance I might miss when I tried dropping him into the skiff, but what other option did I have? With all my effort, I heaved him overboard and he managed to plop face down onto the boat, although one arm and one leg hung over the rim. 

 Oh, well, I thought, at least he has a chance now. 

 Of course, now I had to wonder if I had a chance. Wanting to better appraise the situation with the wall, I ran back down the length of the serpent till I got to the tail end where the first rope still lay. Now that I was away from the brunt of the smoke, I could get a better view of things. I turned and saw that the serpent’s breath had indeed gone. But the aqueduct wall was a billowing mass of black clouds and smoldering orange cracks. 

 I considered if there might be some way to warn the people in the palace below should that wall crumble and let water and snake come hurtling down. They must have heard the bang, I thought. And certainly, they would see that there was a fire.

 I stepped to the side of the tail and stared at the water. They always anchored the academy water shuttle in place at the embarkation point by having one of the crew secure it by rope to one of the metal rings that lay embedded at the bottom of the sluice. Well, I had a rope appended to one end of the serpent, albeit only with a knife. Maybe I could take the other end of the rope and tie it to one of the rings down on the sluice floor. 

 Why not? I could be the hero of the day afterall, not that it meant much to me anymore. I was so weary and sad that I felt like lying down and closing my eyes. No, I had to push such notions out of my mind; this wasn’t over yet.

 The smoke wasn’t as bad back here so I took off my cloak. I placed my sheathed sword on the scales, grabbed up the loose end of the rope, ran to the edge of the snake, and jumped into the water. There was that horrible sloshing in my ears that always happened when my head dipped under the surface, but I tried to focus my eyes on the sluice floor. 

 I scanned the length of the waterway till I finally spotted an iron ring the size of a large man’s head maybe ten feet to the side of the snake’s tail. Hoping the rope would stretch out long enough to touch the anchor point, I kicked my legs up and down and glided in the direction of the ring.

 Soon I reached the iron circlet and tried wrapping the rope end around it. All seemed to be going well and I had just enough length left to make a knot to secure the rope in place. 

 Relieved and in dire need of air, I rose to the surface and took a deep, gasping breath. I stared back at the aqueduct wall and was shocked to see chunks of smoldering concrete plop into the water. Well, I thought, at least I secured the rope to the sluice floor. 

 Maybe I could test that rope and make sure it was secured? No, best not to risk loosening it. 

 I was wet and swordless so I swam back to the snake. That’s when I realized I’d need the rope just to climb back on. Reluctantly, I grabbed onto a length of hemp and worked my way up onto the snake’s tail. 

 It was getting dark now and the sun’s dying rays tainted the scattered clouds in the sky with a deep copper. I grabbed up my sword and reattached it to my belt and looked at the sluice wall. More chunks of concrete fell into the water, onto the head of the serpent, and apparently into the open air beyond the aqueduct. 

 Suddenly, I felt a jolting under my feet and instantly knew the serpent was moving forward. Water must be pouring out the opening in the wall, dragging the snake with it. I looked back at where the rope dipped into the water. It was stretching out and becoming taut. Maybe I should have untied the rope from the dagger and secured it with my sword? It was too late to make any changes now.

 I should find the nearest exit so I could work my way down to ground level and warn them at the palace. Looking up and down the length of the two intersecting waterways, I tried to see if I could spot any stairwell entrances. I knew they placed rings at the bottom of the sluices at regular intervals should a craft need to stop for any reason, so the ring I’d found didn’t mean there was an embarkation point for passengers nearby.

 I stared at the smoldering spot on the wall in front of the serpent and realized I could now see parts of the palace domes through it. Soon the whole thing would collapse, releasing a torrent of water that would not soon abate.

 If that wasn’t bad enough, I saw my skiff and the paralyzed oarsman on it drifting towards the sundered concrete of the aqueduct. How many people had to die this day? Could I run up to the head of the serpent and jump in the water and save the man?

 No, I realized, watching a huge gash open up in the bottom of the retaining wall. The skiff sped forward on the swift currents, went through the jagged hole, and disappeared. 

 It felt like my bones had melted to liquid and my whole body was going to collapse in on itself like a frameless pavilion tent. If I couldn’t stop this disaster then I didn’t want to leave. I’d just ride the snake to its destruction down below. I’d never felt so much overwhelming guilt in all my life. If the Deity Imperator and the Sepulchral Giant were deliberate monsters, I was the accidental kind.

 I turned my head back to the straining rope holding the serpent in place. If it should break…

 …well, then, I’d just have to re-tie it. If I was going to die anyway, let it be while trying to save additional lives. Without even thinking to remove my sword, I took a deep breath and jumped into the water and swam to where the end of the rope lay.

 My blade weighed me down, but I needed to be at the bottom of the sluice anyway.

 My nose just above the surface, I treaded water as I hovered over the place where the stiff rope stabbed into the water, all the while darting my head back and forth between the iron ring below me and the mechanical serpent in front. The snake had inched forward on the water, but that measly bit of hemp still managed to hold it in place.

 But for the glowing wreckage of the aqueduct wall before the automaton, there was now very little light to see by. Should I just stay here indefinitely? That was impractical.

 In the glint of the fire I could see torrents of water streaming out the hole in the retaining wall. Well then, they certainly didn’t need me to warn them in the palace. I just wondered if Fodineo Quabeno would have enough sense to evacuate the place. 

 As water spilled off the sluice more came in to take its place and soon I could feel the current dragging at me. Even the weight of my steel wasn’t enough to hold me in place. That current would eventually get so strong it would pull the serpent out of the aqueduct no matter what. 

 Taking a huge lungful of air, I dove down and grabbed the rope with one hand and the iron ring with the other. The tension on the rope was overwhelming and it became obvious that my efforts to stop this disaster were futile. 

 It was cold and dark and my chest was beginning to burn from lack of air.

 Then the rope in my hand jerked forward, tugging me off the iron ring. I was yanked up above the surface of the water and felt my whole body being dragged back.

 The rope must have snapped.

 Did I still have time to let go? It didn’t matter at this point; the current had me.

 My eyes stared up at the vagrant first stars of evening. Soon these old friends were blotted out by an overwhelming orange light. I ducked my head below the surface so I wouldn’t be burned by the fire.

 And then I was out of the water and floating up in the air, my hand still clutching the rope. I felt lighter than gossamer and could hear the wind whistling in my ears. I glanced behind me and saw the glowing hole in the sluice wall rising up and away.

 It was now just a matter of seconds before impact with the glass panes of the dome. 

 There was a loud crashing below me, followed by the sound of a thousand windows shattering. I turned to see what fate lay before me and beheld the steel serpent tear through the ribbed metal framework of the dome before crashing through thick marble columns. It knocked them down like tent pegs. Stones sprayed in all directions from the cracked pillars. 

 And right above this tableau, as if they were floating clouds, was a sea of glass shards. My sense of time had slowed considerably and I could prepare for the moment those shards would strike. I thrust my free arm before me to shield my face from the broken glass. Some of the shards cut through my wet clothes and into my limbs and chest, but most of the window fragments were still ahead of me in our downward trajectory.

 Writhing in the air like a real snake, the automaton plunged down into the throne room, which was already filling with water. The head soon slammed into the floor, creating an expanding starburst pattern of cracks in the wet marble. A column came down on the serpent head like a felled tree. Then the rest of the snake’s metal flanks plunged down in coils, which ruptured upon impact, bursting into flame.

 I could feel a great heat warm my falling body, and I dreaded the idea of being consumed in that fire below.

 My free hand joined the other one already clinging to the rope and I held on tight, realizing this action was a wasted effort, since the far end was still attached to the serpent’s tail and pulling me to my doom. But I noticed the section of rope between me and the snake had whipped up in the air above my head, probably because the hemp cord was lighter than me. (Why even speculate on such aspects of natural philosophy at a time like this?)

 The glass shards before me bounced off the metal monster, fragmenting into even smaller shards.

 Should I shut my eyes and just let the sudden impact with the beast below blot out my consciousness?

 No. Even in death, I was still a scientist. I just had to see what came next. 

 Soon I was passing through the ripped metal webbing of the dome’s frame.

 There was a sudden jolt in my arms and I was jerked up into the air before resuming my fall. But then my earthward flight stopped.

 Confused, I pulled my head up and was shocked to realize the rope I clung to had snagged on one of the torn metal beams of the dome. The long iron rod was now bent down from its impact with the serpent and had part of a crossbeam at its end that made for a perfect hook to snag the loop of hemp that had floated above me.

 As the serpent’s tail whipped down to join the rest of the steel beast on the floor I was soon pulled up into the air. I was about to slam into that iron beam above my head before my body would be jerked back down to shatter on the debris below. 

 If I could just kick up my legs, I thought, then I might be able to negate some of the impact. I swung them up just as the beam came at me and my boot soles slammed into the iron shaft. The rope was still pulling me up, but now I’d slowed my ascent enough that I could possibly let go just as it slid over the beam and dropped down into the throne room.

 My bloody body glided against the side of the metal rib and then I was briefly airborne. I released my grip on the rope and came down on top of the iron beam. The wind got knocked out of me, but there was no time for rest. Quickly, I scrambled to keep from sliding off. Then I collapsed on top of the iron support, watching the rope whip through the air and plunge into the flaming machinery beneath me.

 I coughed and then took in a huge draught of air. I was still alive. Bloody, bruised, battered, but alive.

 What now? I was bleeding, but they seemed to be mostly minor cuts and weren’t necessarily lethal– if I could get medical attention soon, anyway.

 I turned my head and stared up the curving length of the metal rib I clung to. If I could just crawl up it like a caterpillar then I might be able to work my way to the outer rim of the dome and then set foot on the palace roof. Then I could run to one of the stone domes at either end of the building. 

 I knew from previous visits to the palace that those domes had observation decks. I doubted Fodineo had any need to lock their entrances since the only way off the palace grounds from the domes would entail jumping to one’s death.

 Very well, then. I needed to get safely down into the palace to see how bad the damage was, so I began my awkward ascent.