The ceiling exploded.
Stone and dust thundered into the hall.
Something vast crashed through the roof.
It had claws.
It had wings.
It had far too many teeth.
And it was wearing what appeared to be a brass helmet.

The creature roared.
The windows shattered.

Scurlock drew his sword.
Unlike Blackbird’s elegant rapier, his weapon was a long, wicked blade, black as midnight and twice as unpleasant.

“Right,” said Avery. “Who attacks first?”

Lady Blackbird grinned.
“I do.”

She sprang onto the back of a fallen statue, ran up its shoulder, and launched herself at the creature.
Her sword flashed.
She struck one of its horns.
Sparks flew.
The creature bellowed and swatted her aside.
Avery caught her.

Scurlock leapt onto the creature’s claw.
He drove his sword between two scales.
The beast shrieked and shook its limb violently.
Scurlock held on with one hand.

“Guardian!”

“Yes?”

“The lever!”

The Guardian went pale.
“Which one?”

“All of them!”

“That seems unsafe!”

“Precisely!”

The Guardian hurled himself toward the machinery.
Leonardo followed.
“Wait for me!”

“You’re an engineer!”

“Exactly! I understand levers!”

Behind them, Lady Blackbird and Avery attacked together.
Steel rang against brass.
The creature snapped at Avery.
He ducked.

Blackbird thrust.
The blade vanished between its teeth.
She stared.
“Oh.”

Avery grabbed her by the collar.
“Run!”

They fled as the beast bit down.
The sword snapped.

Blackbird looked at the broken hilt in disbelief.
“My sword!”

The Guardian pulled three levers.
Somewhere beneath the palace, a machine awakened.

ping:

The enemy of my enemy

Lady Blackbird drew her sword and advanced to attack her advesary.
“En garde, Lord Scurlock!”

Lord Scurlock sighed.
It was the kind of sigh a man makes when the evening has gone badly and somebody has just spilled gin on the carpet.
He rose from the throne.
He was tall, thin, and dressed in a black coat that looked as though it had been tailored by a funeral director with a grudge.
A silver chain hung from his waist.
At the end of it was a watch.
The watch was ticking backward.

“Must we?” Scurlock asked.

Lady Blackbird lunged.
Scurlock stepped aside.

She struck the throne.
The throne screamed.

Lady Blackbird spun and attacked again.
Scurlock parried with one finger.
The blade stopped an inch from his chest.
“Good sword,” he said.

“Good finger,” she replied.

He smiled.
Then he flicked her sword across the hall.

It landed beside Captain Avery.

Avery picked it up.
“I dislike him,” he said.

“You’re not alone,” said the Guardian.
The Guardian was hiding behind engineer Leonardo.

Scurlock looked at him.
The room became colder.
“You,” he said.

The Guardian swallowed.

“Me?”

“You pulled the lever.”

“That was her.”

Scurlock walked toward them.
Behind him, the golden throne folded itself into the shape of a chair.

“Lord Scurlock,” said Avery, raising the sword, “what exactly are you planning?”

Scurlock stopped.
Through the enormous windows came the sound of something moving across the sky.
Not flying.
Dragging itself.

Scurlock glanced upward.
“For once,” he said, “I’m not planning anything.”

The marble floor trembled.

“Then what is that?”

Scurlock looked at them.
“That,” he said, “is the reason I built the door.”

Avery frowned.
“The door exploded.”

“Yes.”

“Was that part of the plan?”

Scurlock considered this.
“No.”

The ceiling cracked.
Something enormous looked down through it.

Scurlock smiled without humor.
“Now,” he said, “we may all attack together.”

ping:

Behind the magick portal