On the vacant street outside the station waited a small winged boat crewed by members of Tori’s gang. The pale woman named Una stood by the helm. The kid, Leel stood in the center. Around them patrolled a collection of four young men and women with ratty clothing and dirty hair, held in place by red strings.

  Tori ran to the boat and vaulted on board. Saul looked over his shoulder at the station. He hoped the clerk had been scared enough she wouldn’t send a report from a comparator. Either way, he couldn’t go back. Olivia quickened her step and made it to the boat before him. He caught up and hauled himself over the side onto the deck.

  “Nice of you to join us, Burton,” Tori said with a smirk. “Funny someone like you would end up flying with us.”

  He narrowed his eyes as the boat began to beat its wings and rise from the street. “Tori, I’ve been exiled for four years.”

  “Doesn’t mean it’s not funny. Never would have thought it.”

  Olivia raised her eyebrows as she sat down between Tori and Saul, in a row behind. “Earth here. What’s so funny?”

  Tori glanced at her. “This guy was raised to be a worldmaker. He’s a whole hundred percent over folks like us in society. Or so they tell themselves.”

  Saul inhaled and shook his head. “Accident of birth, though it’s true that I tried to make the most of it.”

  The boat cleared the low rooftops around the station. Clouds of smoke billowed from the city center. Una guided the boat in an arc to face the Lord’s Tower, which loomed over the columns of smoke.

  “Gern are everywhere. They should keep the authorities busy.” Tori picked up the end of her scarf and spoke into it. Saul realized the cloth must be not only an art-child but also a comparator. Tori said, “People, today we take over this city. This is our chance to run more than the street side of things.”

  As she spoke, more ramshackle winged boats arose from the buildings and streets around them.

  “How big is your gang?” Saul asked.

  Tori lowered the cloth of her comparator scarf. “As big as the city. I am the queen, after all.”

  They flew toward the tower. The din of battle grew louder as they moved into the center of the city. Guardian winged boats clashed with airborne gern high above while Tori’s makeshift fleet hugged the rooftops. Saul gazed at the huge ring of stone that topped the Lord’s Tower, looking for any flicker of the world gate’s activation.

  Olivia checked her cattle prod’s battery. Leel paced the boat from one end to another, a serious frown on his young face. Una held a sword. The rest of the crew carried long metal poles for weapons, and they looked like they had experience in using them.

  They passed a burning building to the sound of screams and cries from below. The Lord’s Tower was still a few miles away. A trio of winged art-children ascended from the street below, each one as big as a winged boat, but shaped liked the dragons of myth, with heavy scales and impossibly vast wings. The three dragons circled upward toward Tori’s boat. Saul glimpsed the black of a guardian uniform on one’s back.

  “Looks like they’re not all busy.”

  Tori clenched her jaw and nodded. She stood in the center of the boat and stretched out her arms. Her sleeves grew long and whip-like. She drew a dagger from a sheath at her belt. “They won’t stop us. Leel, get ready.”

  The fire below crackled. Sparks flew from a collapsing roof. The dragon children with their blue and green scaled forms swooped toward Tori’s boat. Saul stood up and took an oven rod in one hand.

  Olivia closed the battery case on her cattle prod while her eyes followed the dragons.

  One of the monstrous art-children opened its jaws. Fire roiled within. The boy, Leel, leapt forward as the fire breath shot from the dragon’s mouth. Saul flinched as Leel entered the fire. Tori laughed.

  The billowing flames stopped their progress. Every tongue of the fire flew toward Leel. He stood, unburnt before Una on the prow of the boat. The fire was gone, and his clothes had turned from mostly-black to bright red.

  “His cloth-child absorbed the fire,” Saul said. “Impressive.”

  The dragon bellowed a roar. Una threw her winged sword at the creature and the weapon took to the air. The blade slashed along the dragon’s jaw and drew blood.

  The other two dragons dove toward the boat’s wings. Saul swung his sword one handed and released it. The blade winged through the air and stabbed deep into a dragon’s chest. The creature reached up with one clawed foreleg and pawed at the hilt. Saul’s eyes flicked toward the one on the other side. Tori’s sleeves had wrapped around the monster’s snout. She flew toward the creature’s rider as the dragon’s head thrashed.

  Tori hit the dragon rider with both feet and knocked him out of the saddle. He fell toward the rooftop twenty feet down. She tugged on her sleeve and the dragon tumbled as it lost its aerial balance.

  Tori’s sleeves unwrapped and she leapt toward the back of the boat.

  She hung in the air, sleeves still coiled. The dragon, whose breath Leel had stolen, lunged toward her. Saul charged to intercept the dragon, oven rod in hand. Tori landed on the boat, just above one beating wing. She turned to face the charging dragon, knife raised.

  Saul’s oven rod rammed against the dragon’s snout. He activated it with a thought and a spark of energy from within. The oven rod’s end burned and transferred the deadly spark into the dragon. The art-child belched as if trying to build up more fire. It’s eyes turned white and its green scales blackened from beneath as the rod cooked it from the inside.

  The force of the dragon’s impact ran through Saul and he fell backward, losing his feet. The dragon crashed against the boat’s wing, then fell on the downbeat, and crashed into the rooftops below.

  Still airborne, Saul flew into Tori. Her arms wrapped around him and they tumbled onto the deck of the boat.

  He lay on his back, stunned for a moment. Then he rolled off of her and looked back. “Thanks for the catch.”

  Tori panted as she got to her feet. She grinned. “Warn me if you’re gonna do that again.”

  The last dragon fell back from the boat, leaving bloody claw marks on the wing, and taking Saul’s black-winged sword with it, still embedded in the creature’s scaled chest. Saul shook his head. He had liked that sword.

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  The boat climbed higher and angled toward one of the sky docks high in the Lord’s Tower. The huge building was nearly close enough to blot out all sight, and the smoke rising all around the boats combined with that vast shadow to turn the whole scene dark.

  A piercing screech echoed over the city. Hisses and screams built in the air. The boats shook with vibrations as the very air trembled in a shock wave.

  Saul looked back the way they had come, seeking the source of the cacophony. He steadied himself with a hand on one side of the boat. Through smoke and feathers and fire he saw it.

  A rift had been torn in the world, and looked at least a mile high. Colorless light spilled through the widening gap. Countless small claws tugged at the edges of the gash in the sky. From within the portal, the high-pitched sounds of countless gern ripping their way into the world chattered in the air.

  Saul’s eyes widened as the smell of burnt hair reached him on the breeze, mingled with sweet scents of the space between. Even the smoke that billowed from the burning city did not match what now assailed his senses. A single massive eye peered through the far side of the rent gateway.

  Olivia stared at the rift alongside Saul. “What is that thing?”

  “A greater gern.” Saul tore his eyes from the monstrous blue iris flecked with black. “Maybe one of the viziers created by Apahar.”

  “Well shit,” said Tori. “That doesn’t look good.”

  Saul glanced at her. “That’s the real distraction you need to take over this city.”

  “If there’s a city left when it crosses over.”

  “It’s after the hilt. If we take it away the gern should follow it.”

  “Then what will you do with it, smart guy?”

  The world gate atop the Lord’s Tower flickered with light as it began to activate. Electricity arced along the edges of the ring.

  “That depends,” Saul said, “on where we are.”

  Tori nodded. “You get the hilt. The rest of us will take care of Lord Dao.”

  Not much of a plan, Saul thought, but it’s all that we’ve got.

  The greater gern’s head emerged from the rift into Hidria, surrounded by countless smaller gern. Saul forced himself to ignore the monster’s massive blue eyes, pallid flesh, and slavering jaws. He turned to the tower. They were only a hundred yards from the side. Tori’s fleet had dispersed as they approached the Lord’s Tower, invisible in the smoke.

  The boat climbed higher toward the arched windows of the tower. The tower itself looked almost vacant. No guards patrolled the higher levels that Saul could see. Good, he thought, I don’t have a sword anymore anyway. He hefted his backpack and felt the two bricks of clay in the pocket slam against his back. His stomach growled and he wished he had been able to order food back at the coffee shop.

  “I know what I’m gonna do when I get the hilt.”

  “What?” asked Tori.

  “Eat a bowl of soup.”

  Tori laughed. The boy, Leel, smirked. Even Olivia brightened a little, but Saul knew that if he was hungry, she as an earth born exile and, therefore, someone with a weaker taph must be starving.

  She raised her cattle prod and pointed it up the side of the tower, now just two dozen yards away. The parapets on the side were open on all the upper levels. “So,” Olivia said. “Where do we go inside?”

  "As high up as we can get.” Saul looked up at the crackling world gate. “There might not be anyone out here, but the place can’t be empty.”

  “That gate is active. The lord will be up top.” Tori grimaced. “Keep your eyes open.”

  “Right.” Saul walked to the front of the boat and looked over the side at the lower levels. The base of the tower was a huge stepped pyramid with six tiers. Each successive level of the building over the pyramid was held up by a series of tall arches, some of which were open to the air, others of which had windows, and most which were filled in with black stone.

  As they climbed, Saul thought of the clay he had brought with him from Earth. Once they landed there would be little time to prepare. At the moment, they were still only about halfway up the tower’s height and circling into the shadow side of the immense structure.

  Saul stepped back from the edge of the boat and unslung his backpack. His empty sheath clanked against the seat, reminding him of his lost sword, probably still embedded in that guardian’s dragon child. He unzipped the big pocket and took out one of the bagged bricks of clay. It did not look much like a brick now that they had been out of the freezer for over twelve hours. It was thick but liquid.

  He closed his eyes and considered his options. He lacked the time to make anything too complex. What do I need? A weapon? A way into that tower?

  The boat rocked with an impact, but Saul didn’t open his eyes. A way to protect the others from Irene and Rufus once we catch up with them. Hush, the firebird, was the only child he knew for certain they had with them. He frowned as the boat continued to rock. Cries and warnings from Tori’s crew rang in his ears.

  His eyes opened.

  Olivia stood beside him. “They’re shooting at us from below. What are you doing?”

  “I’m making a plan.”

  She frowned at him. “For what?”

  “Buy me some time.”

  Olivia sighed and turned to look over the side of the boat. Her coat swished soft in front of Saul. A burst of fire shot upward past the boat, blackening one side just in front of the wing.

  Olivia stepped back. “Crap.”

  “At least its not another dragon,” said Una.

  “But I can’t absorb attacks from underneath before they hit us,” said Leel.

  Tori scowled up at the world gate atop the tower, which was beginning to sound like a lightning storm all on its own. Clouds of smoke rose up around them. “Una, take us through the smoke. We’ll be harder to see.”

  Una turned the wheel and the boat began to curve into the nearest cloud of smoke. “Hold your breath.”

  Saul looked down at the bag of clay and took a deep breath of air. He set an oven rod on the seat beside him and then opened the bag. His hands sank into the wet clay.

  The spark inside him, as inside all makers, sought to live. The energy that poured from the taph wanted to become something new. Saul dove into the clay. He worked, drawing out the material, turning it in his hands. He shaped with his fingers and his palm. The clay went flat. Time demanded simplicity. Life demanded complexity. Saul worked even as smoke began to choke his eyes.

  Water for liquids.

  Earth for solids.

  Flesh for life.

  The clay took form. First a small set of limbs, four legs. Next, a little body. Clay covered his hands. He formed a pair of eyes, then a fierce nose, a nose that could sniff out gern, that could sniff out Apahar’s presence. He made a leonine mane back over the small body’s neck. He reached for the oven rod on the seat. He took it and reversed the end to draw with its pointed grip.

  He carved the patterned ring of a taph on the top of the catlike body, then used the leftover clay to fashion a tail. Unlike the metallic taphs of the gern, this ring with its smaller circles went into the clay, but just the same, it granted life and a mind when infused with creative power.

  His eyes burned with smoke. Tears dripped onto the child’s taph-patterned back. Inspired, Saul turned the child and dropped his tears into the still eyes of the leonine face. Before the tears could dry, he switched his oven rod around. His spark activated the tool and he pressed the heated end into the clay belly of the new art-child. Rult was his name.

  Saul set the little form on the seat and focused on the elements. Water and earth became flesh as they passed out of the smoke. The small lion became a black-furred reality with a red mane. The little creature mewed softly. Saul rubbed eyes with the back of one clay-coated hand.

  “Your name?”

  The art-child looked at him, then said in a voice deeper than Saul had expected. “I am Rult.”

  “Rult. Good.” Saul smiled despite the tears on his face. “I’m Saul, your maker.”

  The boat hung in the air just a few floors from the top of the tower. The shadow of the world gate fell over them, flickering with lightning. Rult turned toward the tower and growled. “The god-enemy is inside that tower.”

  “Good.” Saul smirked. “That’s Apahar. What level is he on?”

  “The highest.”

  “I thought so.” Saul nodded. Olivia and Tori walked over to him.

  Olivia looked down at Rult, stunned. Saul realized she must never have seen an art-child being made before. The little black lion sniffed the air. “He’s moving toward the gate.”

  “Tori, we need to get to the top, now,” Saul said.

  “I’m flying as fast as this thing can,” said Una from the helm.

  Tori’s eyes flicked from Una to Saul, Olivia, and Rult. “If we want to go faster, we’re gonna have to get out.”

  “Then that’s what we do.” Saul looked down at the open parapet with its brownstone floor on the nearest level of the tower. “Nat can get us to the top of the tower as soon as we find some shadows inside.”

  Olivia followed his gaze. “Good idea.”

  “Let us off at the next level, Una. Then keep climbing.”

  “Sure thing boss.” The boat banked toward the tower.

  Saul zipped up his backpack and then put it out. He slipped his oven rod into its loop. He walked to the side of the boat. Rult leapt onto his backpack with a thump. Claws dug in and the small lion hung on.

  The boat passed over the parapet. Saul, Olivia, and Tori leapt.