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Eir waited beside the trench, clutching a burnoose full of enspelled dragon-blood jewels. “Looks like ten feet deep, Zojja. That should do it.”

Big Zojja looked at her, and from within the golem came the metallic voice of Little Zojja. “I don’t want anything to jump out.”

“Me, neither,” Eir said. “But you’ve got to be able to climb out. We need you to guard the east entrance.”

The golem stared at the sandy ground up to her waist, nodded, and then began her less-than-graceful climb from the trench. Meanwhile, Eir walked along it, pouring the dragon-blood crystals into the bottom. Those stones were enspelled to cling to the dragon’s minions, to embed in the flesh and root deep.

At last, Big Zojja had extricated herself from the trench and clambered to her feet. “One more to dig,” said Zojja within.

“No. I got Glint to do it.”

Big Zojja’s head slumped dejectedly.

Eir shrugged. “We just ran out of time. Don’t worry. You’ve contributed tremendously here, Zojja. These stones at the bottom of the trenches—they’re the genius of this plan.”

Big Zojja looked up at Eir to see if she was kidding.

“I’m serious. This is going to work,” Eir said. “Now, go make sure Snaff is finished with the powerstone yoke, and make sure he’s safe within his golem. This whole thing rests on him.”

Big Zojja stood rooted before her. “You promise me he’ll be safe.”

“I promise,” Eir replied, “as long as you get to your post.”

Big Zojja nodded and tromped off through the archway, heading toward the central dome.

Eir meanwhile looked to the north, where the sky was darkening. At first, it seemed only a giant shadow, as if an eclipse were moving across the world. But then the shadow gained substance. It was a storm—a boiling cloud that grew on the horizon. In minutes, it spread across the whole northern desert. Then it came on, piling high in giant thunderheads.

A monster was in that storm.

She could see it now—the flash of a gigantic eye, the surge of a huge wing, the long lash of a scale-covered tail.

“He’s coming!” shouted Eir. “Stations, everyone!”

From within the sanctum came the tromp of Bigs and the scratch of talons and the skitter of claws.

Garm bounded up beside Eir, pressing his muzzle to her hand as if to say this was the day she had always wanted—the day that she would destroy a dragon.

She patted him. “You’re right, Garm. You’re right.”

The black presence now overspread the whole sky. Lightning crackled among the clouds. Golden beams of light stabbed down to bake the desert sands. The ground seemed to melt, to boil and twist. The golden fire seared a highway through the desert. It was heading straight toward Glint’s sanctuary.

Eir hoisted her bow, nocked three explosive charges on the string, and drew back to sight the heart of the cloud. She took a deep breath and released.

Three long shafts vaulted skyward, carrying their powerstone payloads toward the beast. The shafts vanished into the murk, and three green flashes ignited within the cloud.

Then came the boom! boom! boom!

Shock waves shook the ground.

Already, Eir was lifting three more arrows.

But suddenly the belly of the cloud ripped open, and out of it dropped the dragon. Huge and jagged like cracked stone, it soared toward Eir. Its fangs gaped, its eyes blazed, its hackles spiked.

Eir held her breath and launched another salvo. The three arrows arched over the dragon’s head and dropped to stab through the thing’s back. Three more flashes, three more booms! and the creature shuddered.

Still, the explosions seemed only to enrage it. Its massive mouth dropped wide, and golden breath roared out. The plasma splashed down across the desert, melting sand to glass in a road that led toward Eir.

“Come on, Garm!” Eir shouted. She turned and ran through the archway of the stone sanctum, her wolf at her heels. Behind them, dragonbreath bathed the great arch, which crackled dangerously. “Take cover!” Eir leaped into a niche along one wall.

Garm, meanwhile, ran full out ahead of a flood of dragonbreath. It filled the air from floor to ceiling and