another army.
You’re about to call out a command when something wings through the air above, darting through the crude-shaped buildings. Two of the birdlike servants you freed from the Curiosity’s tower. Quinn dangles between them. Your heart leaps as they land in the dusty street. The girl wears a determined look as she strides forward and wraps you in a hug. You hold her for a stretching moment, not believing that your wild plan actually worked. She hugs you fiercely back before pulling away.
“We just flew over the Striving’s half of the city. It is an odd scene. I’m not sure what to make of what she’s doing. Come, see for yourself.”
Commands ring out. Adrian sends a sharp-eyed scout ahead of the group. As your heartbeat slows, you’re worried the adrenaline will fade. You know some of your soldiers might start asking questions. Their morning began with a charge toward the Longhand camps. And then you dragged them headfirst into another world. Best to keep them hunting.
“Everyone together,” you shout. “Be ready for anything.”
And for the first time in history, an army of Ashlords, Dividian, and Longhands moves as one. You take strength from that brief image of peace, even as you walk the bloodstained streets. All the smaller skirmishes have been extinguished. A few rogue soldiers are still loose. Those belonging to the Fury either surrender or flee. Those belonging to Quinn join your ranks, adding their number to the roaming host.
The Fury’s city is an earthen sprawl. Weathered stones rise up and pretend to be buildings. Great gladiator pits of reddish dirt trade off with grassy training fields. The city streets all lead uphill. The Curiosity’s notes described it perfectly. Ever a warrior, the Fury designed his city to be defensible. His soldiers would have the upper ground as they retreated back toward his throne. Except your plan worked. Adrian lured him outside the gates with a taste of blood.
As you reach the city’s upper tier, the great bridges come into view. Five on this level. Each one is wide enough to drive three carriages down, all side by side. A signal from you divides the gathered forces. You can’t help inspecting your newest allies. Imelda’s crew looks like your kind of soldiers. Bloodied, but unbowed. One of the girls catches your eye and offers a quick wink. She’s got a pistol in each hand, paired with a bloody smile. You suppose they’re not the worst people to have your back in a fight.
The waiting bridges are polished stone. They do not creak underfoot, though you must be some seventy paces above the ground. Your friends used to like visiting rooftop cantinas in Furia. Sipping wine and watching the crawling world below. You never liked such heights, so you stride carefully down the very center of the bridge. Adrian matches your steps.
Another city looms. It is as polished as the other is crude. Each building has efficient purpose. Windows run the length of some, reflecting each other back in infinite loops. Electric light borders everything like the bright veins of a larger body. None of this is a surprise.
It is the waiting servants that are odd. Quinn’s concern makes more sense. You are walking through a tableau. The god’s creatures stand motionless in the streets. Not lined up for war, but paused in their daily functions. Almost like abandoned dolls.
The first group you pass appears to be unloading a carriage. One holds a crate. The others look like they’re in the middle of a frozen discussion. Your army passes them warily.
But the city is full of such scenes. As you walk, you begin analyzing them more closely. Most of the creatures are similar to the Striving’s priests in your world. The god likes grafting her little sciences into them, altering them with her clever gadgets. But these servants have been pushed further than those you’ve met in the world above. Some boast entire upper bodies of metal and clockwork. Others have glowing blue veins that match the surrounding buildings.
It is an eerie sight.
You worry what their stillness means as you follow the main promenade. On instinct, you aim for the one building that is larger than the rest. The Striving might be a genius, but you’ve learned that most gods are the same. All of them dislike the thought of being outshone.
The building’s architecture looks impossible. The glass exterior glints with false light. It rises up and somehow four sides merge into a single point.