HEADS OF THE MILITARY
Eir stepped back from carving another huge basalt head. It showed Snaff's face-the quirky rumple of his brow mirrored below in a slight smirking lip, the wide and happy eyes, the long nose, and those ears like milkweed pods.
"How do I look?" Snaff asked, posing nearby.
Pacing across the stone chips that littered the floor of Snaff's laboratory, Eir said, "You look good."
"Good?" Snaff said dejectedly. "Not dashing?"
"I've never seen you dash…"
"How about brave?"
"Sure," Eir said as she brushed rock dust from her hands. "Brave."
Snaff waddled up beside her and stared at his likeness. A smile crept onto his face, and he said, "Brave."
"Well, that does it for the second head," Eir said. "What about the body?"
"Oh! Zojja's been working hard on my design," Snaff said enthusiastically. He grasped the norn's hand and led her over to a short drafting table covered with sketches. All showed a spherical cage with a leather harness suspended within. "The cage is for protection, of course, like your rib cage, because inside it is where the driver will be suspended. These straps will hold the person secure within the center of the cage, with side straps to stabilize in case the golem falls over."
"Ouch," Eir said.
Snaff nodded. "Yes, and you see that there's plenty of clearance for flailing arms and legs."
"Show me how far we are."
Snaff led Eir to the worktables that held the metal golems. From the belly of Big Zojja, a blinding light flashed, and acrid smoke whiffed into the air. The light ceased, and Zojja's head popped from the opening, her hair slightly singed. She set smoking hands on the golem fuselage.
"Have you been welding by hand again?" Snaff asked.
"It's fastest," Zojja said dismissively. "But I've got to make sure my eyes are shut."
"How are the cockpits coming?" Snaff went on.
"Nearly done. Both are welded to the frame. Then you can hang your rigs."
"Ingenious," Eir marveled.
Zojja huffed. "Only if you trust metal over magic."
"Eir," Snaff interrupted, "I don't think I've shown you the laurels…"
"Wait," Eir said, staring at Zojja. "What did you say?"
"I said I don't know why the two of you are putting more trust in golems than in magic."
"They're magic golems," Snaff volunteered with a weak smile.
Eir waved him off. "No, wait. This isn't about magic or metal. This is about Zojja disagreeing with the plan."
Zojja nodded tightly. "Exactly."
Eir folded her arms over her chest. "So you don't think your master's designs are good enough?"
Zojja's eyes flared. "Of course they are!"
"So you don't think your welds are good enough?"
"My welds are rock solid!"
"So you don't think my plans are good enough."
Zojja pointed at her. "There you go."
Eir nodded. "Well, your reservations are noted, but the plan goes ahead."
"Then we're all going to get killed."
Eir laughed angrily, shaking her head. "No, we won't. I promise you, we will kill the Dragonspawn, and every one of us will walk out of there alive."
Zojja cocked her hips. "If I die, it'll be too late to say I told you so."
Eir towered above the asura. "Your master is a kind man. You could have much worse. In fact, every asura I have encountered would make a much worse master."
"Thank you very much," Snaff said. "And now, about the laurels-"
"But he has one fault," Eir continued, never looking away from Zojja. "He lets you pretend you are the master."
"That's because he recognizes that I am a genius," Zojja said archly.
Eir shook her head. "You work with a genius, and yet you disdain everything he does. He treats you with respect, and you act as if he is your enemy. One day, you will be without him, and then you will see who the true genius is."
Zojja rolled her eyes. "Nice speech."
Eir clenched her hands, gritted her teeth, and turned away.
Snaff smiled and blinked placidly. "Let me show you these wonderful laurels." He retrieved a pair of golden torcs from a nearby table and brought them over. Powerstones in red, yellow, purple, and green gleamed in settings of gold. "Beautiful, aren't they? The stones are selected to map to the activation zones of our minds."
The word minds cast a pall over Eir's face. "Yes. Minds. There's the flaw in my plan." She glanced over her shoulder, then looked back down at Snaff. "The Dragonspawn takes over minds. He corrupts them. His power infuses them, tempts them. He turns those who want to kill him into those who want to serve him. These machines are no good unless we can block his mind powers."
Snaff grinned like a boy who had studied well for a test. "He can't. That's why I've placed these here," he said, tapping a powerstone embedded in the shoulder piece of Big Zojja. "The gray stones repel mind auras. Out here on the shoulders, they'll create a field that will block the Dragonspawn's mind. He can't reach us, and he can't take over our golems."
Eir slapped Snaff on the back, a move that shuffled him a few steps forward. "You are a genius. But could you put some gray stones in a necklace for me and a collar for Garm?"
"Of course," Snaff replied offhandedly, but then said, "You know, nobody else has this technology. Everybody else is making golems without heads!"
Eir feigned shock. "No!"
Snaff nodded deeply. "Their golems fumble around, while mine combine the genius of an asura with the power of a titan! Nobody can do this stuff!"
"They all think he's cracked," Zojja explained flatly as she jumped down from the belly of her golem. "I agree. Sometimes."
Eir laughed ruefully. "So, is everything ready?"
"Everything except the head of my golem," Snaff said. "You can put that into place while I get your gray-stone necklace and collar made. Then we'll have a meal and a rest, and tomorrow-"
"We march on the Dragonspawn."
She headed back toward the worktables, lifted the huge head of Big Snaff, and slid it into position atop his metalwork body. When the stone base contacted the metal frame, loops of steel rose to engage the stone shoulders and clamp down tightly. Then Eir had only to set a powerstone in the head of the creature. It fused with the basalt, sinking in and rooting.
Big Snaff sat up.
Eir set the other powerstone, and Big Zojja rose, too.
Garm and Eir stood between those towering creatures. Snaff and Zojja wandered over to join them. They stared in wonder at what they had wrought.
"There is a certain sick calm before battle," Eir said. "The panic of the heart that something has been left undone, that we are not ready for this." She looked at the two asura, only rising waist high, and at her wolf, who rose only to her ribs. "We are ready."
Snaff clapped his hands once and then rubbed them eagerly. "Then let's feast."
A pig turned on a spit within the laboratory's ironwork forge, and among the coals below, potatoes nestled in chain-mail sleeves. Wild onions and butter-soaked leeks simmered in iron skillets. Cornflower cakes rose on the hearth, and little pitchers of honey and gravy warmed there, as well.
The four warriors lined up along the hearth and loaded pewter plates with this bounty. Then they gathered around the great stone table where Big Zojja had been built. Even Garm had a place. Though their plates were heaped with smoked pork and caramelized onions and leeks and cornflower cakes, they sat in silence, unsure what to say.
At last, Eir spoke. "Spirit of Wolf," she breathed, her voice husky in the hot jungle air. "Spirit of Bear and Snow Leopard and Raven, we eat this meal tonight in preparation for war tomorrow. We fight not just for the norn but for you, for all races. Be with us. Help us prevail against the Dragonspawn."
With those words, the spell of regret over them all was shattered. They ate and talked and laughed but did not speak of what the dawn might bring. • • • The first red glow of sunrise filtered through the skylight of Snaff's laboratory and shone across his two massive golems: a twenty-foot-tall Snaff and an eighteen-foot-tall Zojja. Both stood with their cockpit hatches open, ready for their drivers to climb in.