The fire­ball lights up the entire city. The shock­wave almost knocks me off the Cir­cus wall.

The huge crowned head of Emperor Zargon goes fly­ing through the air, spin­ning end over end. It smashes into a neigh­bor­ing build­ing, which col­lapses in a plume of dust.

“Mys­tics!” Kiddu yells.

 

I try to ignore the chaos and zero in on the attack­ing archer. I spot him—now he’s glow­ing vio­let, just like the first fig­ure. The light nar­rows into an arrow-beam. Shoots. A thin spin­dle of light—for a hor­ri­fy­ing moment, I’m sure this magic pur­ple arrow is stream­ing through the night straight towards me.

But it sails just over our heads and beyond the Cir­cus, strik­ing a stor­age building’s wide rooftop—and the attacker appears. Som­er­saults out of thin air, like the vio­let arrow had fun­neled his exis­tence from there to there. He quickly stands up, illu­mi­nated by the still-pulsing fireball—a man in a dark robe and flow­ing tur­ban hold­ing a long bow.

Bal­anced expertly on the sloped roof tiles, the mys­tic draws an arrow from a quiver on his back. Nocks it. Points it at one of the watch­tow­ers on the Divid­ing Wall.

He starts to glow orange.

“Get down!” Kiddu screams.

She pulls me down low, just as the mys­tic releases the mis­sile. It shoots towards the watch­tower with another whoooosh! and explodes into roar­ing flames. The heat punches me in the face.

The mys­tic quickly draws another arrow and warps away with it, trail­ing a silky bridge of vio­let light.

After only a moment of calm, another explo­sion, this time from the native dis­trict. A plume of fire and smoke belches up from behind the Divid­ing Wall.

I don’t know why it takes me so long to real­ize this, but now I do—the city is under attack.

 

In the space of time this fact fil­tered down through my brain, the impe­r­ial sor­cer­ers must have been prepar­ing a coun­ter­at­tack. Now they launch it.

A peal of thun­der erupts from the Wall, and a blind­ing blue-white flash of light­ning sears through the sky, sharper and louder and brighter than any of the mys­tics’ arrows.

It is the first of dozens of blasts.

From their tall watch­tow­ers, the sor­cer­ers’ onslaught is mas­sive and indis­crim­i­nate. Streaks of light­ning blast down into the natives’ mud hov­els, shat­ter­ing their adobe walls into pow­der, burn­ing jagged lines into my vision. Thun­der­claps shake the build­ings and slosh my inter­nal organs.

Below and behind, I hear a growl.

“Somebody’s awake,” says Kiddu.

 

The lamashu stirs, flexes its mas­sive paws, stretches its feath­ered wings. Its eyes open, col­lect­ing the light from the explo­sions in ghostly glow­ing pati­nas.

Kiddu waves at the beast.

“Here, beastie beastie beastie…”

“Will you stop it!”

“YOU THERE! ON THE WALL!”

I turn around.

Three impe­r­ial hoplites look up at us, decked out in pearl­stone breast­plates, hel­mets, long spears, and huge round shields. Two of them hold up their spears over­hand, flexed to throw. The third takes out a bolt­wand tipped with a bright blue gem and points it straight at my chest.

Instinc­tively, I hold up my hands in a sur­ren­der­ing ges­ture. This includes the hand with the bomb

“He’s got flame­craft!” says one of the hoplites.

The one with the wand gives the order: “Jump down! NOW!”

Before I can com­ply, Kiddu grabs my arm and pulls me tum­bling down on the other side of the wall—back into the lamashu pen. The sandy ground knocks the wind out of me.

A thin bolt of light­ning angles up above us. The hoplite with the bolt­wand must have dis­charged and missed. Beyond the wall, I can hear them curs­ing.

Kiddu has already bounced up to her feet. She pulls me up.

Through the tumult of sor­cer­ous thun­der I can hear the hoplites run­ning around to the back door. The Empire also has mas­ter key­wands for open­ing gravitic doors and they prob­a­bly work much faster than the one I used.

Oppo­site the back door, down the open-air pas­sage­way, the lamashu has appar­ently just real­ized it is no longer chained. It rears up on its hind legs and spreads out its wings—its body as long as one and a half of me, its wingspan as wide as three of my heights—and then slams its front paws down, kick­ing up a cloud of dust.

The beast stands in front of the big wooden gates to the main arena—the only other way out of the Cir­cus.

 

“Kiddu,” I say, “maybe we should—”

What I want to say is sur­ren­der to the sol­diers, but then I notice a more imme­di­ate prob­lem. The lamashu, star­ing at us with its mask face and lamp eyes, has low­ered its head. Its good horn points at us like a spear.

It snorts and stamps its paw on the ground.

“—Get the hell out of here?” says Kiddu.

“No! If we move, it’s going to pounce!”

The beast stamp-snorts again, this time beat­ing its huge wings at the same time. Sand and dust blast every­where.

I’m still hold­ing a smoke bomb in one hand and a lighter in the other.

I don’t know where I get the inspi­ra­tion, or the decisiveness—but in a sec­ond I light the flame­craft and hold it aloft.

The beast growls at this new light.

“What do you think you’re doing!?” says Kiddu.

“Um! Cover! Fire in the hole!”

And with that, I lob the smoke bomb. Not aim­ing so much at the beast but some­where between us. The lamashu traces its flight through the air with its big head.

Then it explodes. A white orange flash. The force is sur­pris­ing, shocking—I thought it was going to be mostly smoke. We’re knocked back flat against the wall. The explo­sion knocks the lamashu back­wards too, but it beats its wings, using the blast to lift itself up into the air.

It ends up perched pre­car­i­ously atop one of the big wooden gates. This gate begins to swing open and sag dan­ger­ously off its hinges.

The lamashu beats its wings again and pushes off from the gate. This time, the gate tears away com­pletely from its hinges and slams to the ground. A dust cloud explodes up from the impact.

More wing­beats from above now—and another sound. The gravitic door behind us open­ing—

“Go!” yells Kiddu, and drags my dazed body into a steady run down the pas­sage­way, over the col­lapsed gate, and into the cen­tral sand­pit.

 

The cen­ter of the Cir­cus is wide and empty. Chaotic sounds of the night echo around the cir­cles of stone benches—crackling fire, clank­ing armor, deaf­en­ing thun­der­bursts, scream­ing, and now a roar­ing, fly­ing lamashu.

I watch the beast soar and swoop through the sky, wing­beats heavy and thick. It’s amazing—this is the entire rea­son I came out, to see this crea­ture finally free.

As I’m watch­ing the lamashu I almost run straight into two hoplites.

They’ve thrown open the main entrance and have charged through, shields and spears in bat­tle posi­tions.

Kiddu tugs my hand just in time and we run towards the cen­ter of the arena. The hoplites fan out, joined now by a third hoplite from the back door. They cast long shad­ows from the green lit-lamps ring­ing the pit.

I feel like I’m being cor­ralled like a wild beast. They advance slowly, pearl­stone hel­mets blank and skull-like expres­sions in the dark.

A wing­beat blasts from above—and I see the whites of the near­est hoplite’s eyes triple in size beneath his dark hel­met.

“GODS IN HEAVEN!”

He swings his shield up just in time—the lamashu’s hind claw rakes the pearl­stone, bat­ting the sol­dier down into the dust. The beast growls and pro­pels itself back up into the air, nearly flat­ten­ing me with the force of its wings.

“Now!” says Kiddu, and she pulls me around the two stand­ing hoplites who are now much too dis­tracted by the beast over­head to block us.

Only when we reach the arched cor­ri­dor lead­ing out of the Grand Cir­cus does a sol­dier finally notice our escape and yell to give chase.