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We must help Hunyadi’s army

You knohat must be done, the Dustman replied

Is it difficult?

Not at all It is part of our ic What we are

Hallient down on one knee, thrusting the long, narrow fingers of both hands into the blood-soaked dirt For a moment, he wondered ould happen, and then he knew All he needed to do was visualize In his mind’s eye--in the Dustman’s mind--they could see the constructs

The earth churned nearby Froh soil, a hand thrust up fro itself out It rose, clad in armor of its own, and drew its sword But the warrior was only dirt and sand and stone, as were its armor and sword A construct

The construct turned, opened its mouth in a silent battle cry--for it had no voice, no life or mind--and it ran into battle A Euphrasian cavalry, bleeding A warrior of Atlantis stood over the fallen ht feet tall and splashed with the blood of others A deadly eneht its sword around--a blade whose edge was as sharp as diamond--and cleaved the Atlantean in half at the torso Both halves of his body hit the ground together

Halliwell and the Dustan to rise Six Eleven Nineteen At twenty-seven, he could do no more To extend himself any further could have led to a loss of control, and Halliwell could not risk it In his an tothem from afar, a puppeteer

But Halliwell didn’t mind What he did next would be for him, and the Dustman did not need to be involved

The sand of his body shifted and resculpted itself, and noore the bowler hat and ain He went to the fallen soldier and held out a hand to help him up

The horseman stared at him, eyes ith terror

"Get up, pal," Halliwell said, aware of the incongruity of his voice, his words, coend A monster

The horseman shook his head once, slowly

"Suit yourself," Halliwell said, dropping his hand In the chaos of ith shouts of fury and screa of weapons, so of the downed horse

"Julianna Whitney Bascombe’s fiancée Is she here?"

Suspicion clouded the soldier’s eyes A sadness caain, he would need to use fear to achieve his ends Fear was always swiftest

The sand ran like ain, and now the cloak returned and his vision becah the Sander-knives reached down for the terrified horseed hiround

"Is Julianna here?"

The horseman nodded He pointed up the slope toward the tents at the top of the hill in the distance The king’s enca the wounded," the soldier said, his eyes and voice desperate

"Of course she is" Halliwell sh to in to cry

Halliwell dropped hi his constructs to aid Hunyadi’s defense against the invaders He would see to Julianna’s safety through the end of this battle He owed her that And then he would go hoain Whatever else he had becolared upon Ovid Tsing’s face, but his eyes were closed Half-conscious, he stared at the inside of his closed eyelids, at the bright red glow of the sun His lids fluttered He wanted to wake But he winced at the glare and pressed theain, let his head loll to one side Beads of sweat dripped and ran across his scalp and along his neck before falling His clothes were daet so heavy

Blood, then

He shifted, trying to move onto his side Pain lanced the left side of his abdoht have been sweat, but he doubted that Blood ought to have been warmer, but as hot as it was outside, perhaps his skin had become hotter than blood

His blood felt cold on his skin

Ovid wished for a breeze The wind had not died He heard a tent flapping nearby His body strained as though he could catch the wind if only he were more attentive It took so as a wind-break, keeping any breeze frohts When again he becalare on his eyes, his side felt tight Gingerly, he ed to reach down and touch the place where the Yucatazcan spear had punctured his flesh, and he found a bandage there A sigh of relief escaped hie him--probably to stitch hieon didn’t think he was going to die today

Carefully, he tried to sit up Pain surged through hiain and he faltered The darkness threatened, but did not overco air through his teeth, waiting to feel the trickle of a freshly reopened wound on his side, but no blood flowed

From far off, he heard the echoes of coods and ’s Volunteers were faring without hi just fine His lieutenants ell trained, and they had heart They had co else would do, save death Ovid only hoped it would not come to that

Good son

Ovid frowned, eyes still closed Had he heard a voice in the cacophony of battle or in the flap of the nearby tent? Perhaps someone inside of the tent

In his ainst the red-flare curtain of his eyelids He saw again the broken corpse of his ore-encrusted holes where her eyes had been He saw, all too clearly, the face of the monster--the face of Ted Halliwell, thefor Oliver Bascombe