A year and a half after the death of his wife, and the annihilation of his city,

Zachariah Eight Arms watched the gauges on his flying machine, and smiled. Sola

and Bolan rode in the back so they could enjoy the ride and not criticize him on the

performance of the thing that he had built.

It had taken a year of work to build all the parts he needed. He had performed odd

jobs to get the food and shelter they needed. He had moved east from Riordiana’s

crater all that time. Rumors circulated that some of the neighbors had invaded and

been repulsed by his people.

Festus had wiped out his own city to stop whatever it was that had erupted in the

middle of the capitol. There was no telling what he would do to people trying to take

advantage of the situation.

Zachariah planned to travel to Messer’s Reach and study there for a bit. He hoped that

his ability would allow him to work on the machines that the city was famous for

while he improved his own knowledge.

He and Bolan had been able to fix every problem thrown at them so far, and when

they had to resort to manual labor, Sola’s Hardy had been able to help them with

enough rudimentary tasks that they had earned their pay and been able to move on

without any problems.

They talked about going back, but there really wasn’t anything for them to go back

to. Zachariah’s beloved Wanda had been ripped out of the sky while he watched. And

Bolan’s parents had been in the square when the thing had erupted.

There was a chance they were still alive, but Bolan wanted to prove how useful Knife

was before going back.

And the spider was a moving tool box that could make itself into anything they

needed to get the job done.

Between Gold Bug and Knife, Zachariah didn’t see anything they couldn’t repair, or

make, if they had enough time.

The flying machine they rode in was a case in point. It had taken hours to build. Gold

Bug had to make the parts while Knife fitted them together. Hardy had lifted the

mechanism where needed so they could attach the various components together. It

still needed work, but the rough start was over so they could work on refining the

process.

The library at Messer’s Reach might give them the means to boost the speed of the

thing so it could go faster than a horse’s trot without burning something up.

A horse appeared on the trail ahead of them. The rider sat in his seat and let the horse

walk along picking at the grass on the side of the road. The animal looked up and

whinnied at the sight of the silver carriage floating along the trail, stirring up dust.

The rider looked over his shoulder and smiled. He pulled the horse off the trail so

they could pass without spraying the two with debris thrown up by the jets along the

bottom of the thing.

Zachariah moved to the left of the trail so he didn’t spray the rider. Twigs and chewed

bushes exploded from the jet as the engine cut most of it up and used it for fuel.

That was a good idea, thought Zachariah. It kept the engine moving and anything

providing fuel meant they could use their garbage from camping as a source.

Three men stepped out in the middle of the road. The middle one held up one hand.

The other dropped to the hilt of his sword.

“Highwaymen,” said Zachariah. “They probably want the cart.”

“They’re not getting it,” said Bolan. “We put too much time in this thing to hand it

over to some thieves.”

“Bolan is right,” said Sola. She held Hardy in her arms. The flying insect was bigger

than what Zachariah remembered. He looked about the size of a house cat now.

How big could he grow if they kept using him to lift things?

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Zachariah put that speculation out of his head. He had to deal with the bandits in front

of him. He had the inclination to just ram through their line, but thought that was

exceedingly dangerous with the children in the cart.

“Stand and deliver!,” shouted the bandit over the buzzing of the cart as it hovered in

place. “Throw down your valuables, or we will kill you and your children.”

“We don’t have any valuables,” said Zachariah. “Please step aside. We are trying to

go to Messer’s Reach.”

“No valuables?,” said the bandit. “Then how did you get this magical cart?”

“We built it from parts,” said Zachariah. “Please let us pass. We don’t want any

trouble.”

“They’re aren’t listening,” said Bolan. “We might have to resort to violence.”

The bushes rattled to one side of the cart. A man flew out on the road. He had a

growing lump on his face.

There were more sounds on that side of the road. The three bandits and the

Riordianians looked at the undergrowth. Something snapped and a man screamed.

The rider from earlier stepped out of the bushes. He wore a smile as he looked at the

three bandits in the road.

“How’s it going?,” said the lone traveler. “Name’s Cantrell, Geoff Cantrell. That last

one was a bit clumsy of me. Had to break his leg. I think he might be all right if you

can get him to a medician.”

“We can still kill you,” said the lead bandit. His hand dropped to the hilt of his sword.

“Hold on,” said Geoff. “If you pull steel, I’ll have to kill you. It’s nothing personal.

I understand. I messed up your ambush, broke your friend’s leg, maybe hurt some of

these other guys, so a certain irritation is to be expected. But if I have to pull my

sword, I’ll have to kill all of you and I don’t want to do that. It makes my girlfriend

think I don’t appreciate her. So just walk away and rob someone else.”

“Do you really think you can take the three of us?,” said the bandit. He looked at his

friends. They didn’t look so confident of the odds.

“If you want to die and get your friends killed, you pull that sword and see what

happens,” said Geoff. He wore a smile on his round face. His eyes were pieces of

coal. “I get a dispensation for killing idiots.”

The two bandits fled from their leader.

“Besides you don’t want to rob Riordins,” said Geoff. “Their king has been making

examples of people. You don’t want to be the guy who caused a giant rock to fall out

of the sky and wipe out your whole village, do you?”

“I suppose not,” said the lead bandit.

“We’re going to ride on and let you figure out how to get your friends home,” said

Geoff. He waved at Zachariah to drive on. “Do something else. You don’t want to be

scrubbing latrines for eighty years to work off your sins. The Underworld is a horrible

place as far as that goes.”

Zachariah pushed the throttle forward and his mechanized cart floated through the

busted barricade and kept going. He looked behind him. Geoff’s horse had walked

out of the trees and the knight swung up in the saddle. He gave a cheery wave before

urging the horse to start walking again.

“That was something,” said Bolan. “I was about to call Knife and have him do

something to get us clear.”

“If we had fought, the men in the trees would have come forward to take us by

surprise,” said Zachariah. “We would have looked like easy pickings if we were

surrounded on all sides.”

“Hardy would have taken care of them,” said Sola. “He’s bigger now.”

She rubbed the beetle’s shell. He looked like a cat in her arms.

“We didn’t have to fight, and that’s what matters,” said Zachariah. “Once we get to

Messer’s Reach, we can improve the cart into something faster than a horse, maybe

find a way to make a bunch of them at the same time so we can turn our attention to

other things.”

“That Geoff said that Riordiana is rebuilding,” said Bolan. “They’ll be able to help

us more than any outsider.”

“We can ask to put a factory there,” said Zachariah. “But until we figure out the

power dynamics and how to get a bit more power to her, no one is going to want this

as it is now. You can’t even plow a field with it.”

“If we increase the pull, we’ll rip up the ground as we go,” said Bolan. “The suction

would chop dirt apart in an instant.”

“It’ll look like a giant snake’s trail,” said Sola. “It kind of looks like that now, but not

as wide.”

“Maybe we should add wings to it,” said Bolan. “That would give it lift.”

“I would like to go home, Da,” said Sola.

“There’s nothing there for us, Sola,” said Zachariah. “Everything is gone.”

“What happens if we can’t mass build these flying carts?,” said Bolan.

“I have been working on some other things we can do,” said Zachariah. “Long range

transportation and cargo placement has always been there, but most people prefer

horses. We might be able to change that if we can come up with the right solution for

the problem.”

“How much work are we talking about doing?,” asked Bolan.

“I don’t know yet,” admitted Zachariah. “The initial designs call for a much bigger

engine than the one we put in our cart.”

“How big, Da?,” asked Sola.

“I don’t have it worked out yet, but bigger than this by far,” said Zachariah. “We

might have to keep moving if we can’t find a place to work on things.”

“Won’t the government want these things if it will replace the horse?,” said Bolan.

“Only if we can figure out how to make them go faster, and spray less,” said

Zachariah.