At seven thirty, the sky over Mount Zilpuv had only just turned from black to deep navy blue. Klara stood in the Machtvollian zeppelin, gazing out the control car’s window, watching the distant lights of the Alchemist storage facility—a shed big enough for one airship nestled in the foothills of Mount Zilpuv. Innocuous on the surface, but below? Klara knew a massive factory lay full of deadly Alchemtek.

  Ulrich had been true to his word and given them all the information they needed, and now the airship they flew on was rigged with enough explosives that it would super-heat the dark stone when they were set off.

  Their plan now was quite simple: land outside the factory and Ulrich would exit with a contingent of Yuri’s crew, most of who spoke Machtvollian. Much to Maria’s chagrin, she’d been sent with them. Once on the smaller airship, they’d take it over and return to Vera’s Revenge. Maria had let them know in no uncertain terms that she disapproved of being excluded from the assault.

  Meanwhile, Ruslan, Elana and the remainder of the 24th squad would hide at the top of the Machtvoll airship to be taken below. Once there, she and Mikhail would escort Elana to the Sila while the others wrecked havoc on the Alchemist facility.

  Mikhail came over and stood beside Klara, staring out the window with her. He still wore the black Alchemist soldier coat he’d acquired earlier that evening.

  “Are you ready to break into the most heavily guarded facility in Serovnya?” Klara asked.

  Mikhail gave her a sidelong look, then shrugged. “Even if we succeed, the Alchemists aren’t going to surrender after an attack on one facility.”

  “I know. But at least we’ll have a chance if we can do damage here.”

  Mikhail turned his attention to the mountain and cocked his head.

  “What is it?” Klara followed his gaze. One of the light towers was flashing a signal up the mountain. Its light caught a cloud of smoke rising into the air from the mine entrance.

  “What the depths happened?” Klara asked.

  “Matvei?” Mikhail suggested.

  “No. They had him, I saw with my own eyes.”

  “Maybe an accident, then.”

  Klara pursed her lips. “I suppose. I just hope that doesn’t mess with our plan.”

  The Machtvoll airship lost height, heading down towards the warehouse barely large enough to house it.

  “Well,” Klara said, “too late now. We better go get ready.”

  Mikhail joined her as she left the control car. The two airships had parted ways an hour previously. Vera’s Revenge returned to its hiding place in the mountains. After the assault, each group would make their way back to it.

  If they were still alive.

  Twenty minutes later Klara, Mikhail and Elana waited by a hatch on a walkway running along the mainframe ceiling. Yuri, Nika, and Ruslan waited further down at another exit. They all wore a black Alchemist soldier coats and carried modified gas rifles on their backs, grappling pistols at their waists, and either a knife or a sword opposite it. Klara also carried Sergei’s knife with its broken blade.

  The big airship shuddered beneath their feet as it slowed. They must nearly be at the warehouse.

  “You two ready?” Klara asked Mikhail and Elana as they waited, tense.

  They both nodded, their faces pale behind half-masks and hoods.

  Klara was sure her face probably looked the same. She rubbed her gloved hands together, clammy palms sticky against the supple leather.

  The Machtvoll airship continued to slow until they barely moved, and then with a thud it touched the ground.

  The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

  Its engines sputtered and stopped, leaving them in eerie silence after so long listening to their drone.

  Several minutes later, the airship jolted and moved forwards. Being dragged into the warehouse, Klara assumed. She badly wished that she could see what was happening, but dared not open the hatch yet.

  After another minute, they once again came to a halt, but only for a moment. The airship juddered, and outside Klara heard a distant but loud mechanical whir. Her eyes widened as she realised they must be on a giant lift, one like the lift at the Kosgrad airfield.

  “I guess there’s no turning back now,” Mikhail whispered.

  They continue to wait. Klara’s jaw quivered and her hearts thumped loudly in a chest. She drummed her fingers against her thigh, waiting. Ever waiting.

  Boooooom.

  The thunderous sound reverberated through Klara’s skull as they came to a halt and the mechanical whir ceased. But before Klara could move, once again the airship shifted beneath her.

  How long was it going to take to get them settled? She bit back a sigh and waited.

  Finally, they stopped, and remained so.

  Klara rose and slowly—carefully—pushed the hatch above them open. A wave of sound washed over her. Clanks of metal mingled with raised voices. Machinery rumbled and roared.

  Klara poked her head through, and her jaw dropped.

  The underground hanger stretched for hundreds of yards in every direction. No less than a dozen Machtvoll airships waited in two rows, like enormous dragons waiting to consume Serovnya. Klara did a quick count. Thirteen airships including theirs. Sovereign Sculptor, the Alchemists could transport a dozen battalions with full gear anywhere in Serovnya in under a day.

  They had positioned the airship in the front row at the south end of the hanger. Six airships stood between them and the hanger lift.

  Over the cacophony of the hanger, Klara heard a woman yelling. She looked around, and caught sight of a blue coated Alchemist marching from their airship to a row of ten giant, oblong steel machines.

  “Get those tanks loaded,” the Alchemist woman yelled, stepping aside and jerking a thumb towards Klara’s airship.

  On one of the “tanks”, Klara saw a man lounging in a hatch behind an intense harpoon cannon that looked far more advanced than the Mark Vs Klara had seen in Katavsk. The man saluted the Alchemist and disappeared into the hatch. A moment later, a bellowing roar filled the air, and the tank lurched forward, propelled by strange tracks that encircled either side of the oblong body. The others followed close behind.

  Klara cursed under her breath. They weren’t supposed to load their airship so soon. Oh well, she just had to hope they didn’t find the explosives on the dark stone… Dragging her attention away from the tanks, Klara glanced up and breathed a sigh of relief to see the metal girders of the ceiling only three yards away. They’d have no problem reaching them. It made sense that the girders were so close, this hanger must have cost a fortune to construct, and every extra yard of depth would have added an astronomical amount to the cost.

  From the girders, hundreds of gas lamps hung. Thankfully all had hoods included to boost the light shining down, but which left the ceiling in relative shadow. Not the perfect cover, though good enough.

  Klara ducked back into the airship and nodded to Yuri and his team. Without a word, they disappeared through the hatch above them.

  “All right,” Klara said. “The girders are within reach, so it should be easy to get out. Can you see where the Sila is being stored?”

  Elana shook her head. “It’s over one hundred yards away. Though I assume it will be furthest from where we entered—probably in the most secure place in the facility.”

  Great… Klara rolled her eyes. Most secure place in the facility, exactly what they needed. “Well, we’re already at the south end, so if we head east six hundred yards that will put as in the back corner of the hanger—furthest from the lift.” She pulled herself through the hatch and crouched on top of the mainframe, keeping herself as low as possible.

  Mikhail and Elana joined her then Klara shut the hatch. “Keep an eye out,” she said, slowly standing, “and make sure no one is watching. Let me know when you think it’s clear.” She lined herself up beneath one girder.

  “I can see the minds of people around the base of the airship,” Elana said, “but the majority I can sense are further down the hanger. I think you’re clear.”

  Klara jumped, fingers stretching above her. She grabbed hold of the girder and, in one swift, smooth movement, pulled herself up and over until she straddled it. Then, leaning over, lowered her hand.

  Mikhail jumped, his fingers closing around her wrist. Using his momentum, Klara heaved, hauling him up. He clambered over the girder and sat, his face deathly white.

  “What?” Klara whispered.

  “Broken rib,” he said, voice strained.

  Klara winced. Poor kid, she’d almost forgotten he had it. “Are you good to continue?”

  “I have to be,” he said through gritted teeth.

  Once Mikhail was settled, Klara leaned down again, hand outstretched to Elana.

  Elana jumped—

  —and shot past them, landing gracefully on the girder between them.

  Klara blinked, surprised. “How the depths did you do that?”

  Elana looked at her, her eyes twinkling in the dim light. “Sila, remember?”

  Of course. Klara shook her head. She should have remembered that. “Follow me,” Klara whispered, “and let me know as soon as you see Sila.” The concrete ceiling was barely two yards above them, so she crouched, hands out for balance, and waddled along the narrow beam.

  They only had to make their way through a criss-crossing forest of metal while being as silent as possible and not dropping to their deaths below. Or being spotted by the soldiers and having several battalions after them.

  And they had to move quickly because in about half an hour the airship they’d travelled in on would explode.