The Tartaruga hummed quietly through the mouth of the shipyard carved out beneath Fortress Five. The ship from Yarnsford's harbour, the one Dorothea had fallen overboard in her desperate attempt to escape, was sitting in dry dock. Crook-necked cranes arched over the massive, multi-barrelled battleship, its belly supported on a wheeled cradle locked in place by large wooden wedges. The ship eclipsed the modest Tartaruga.

Gorso manoeuvred into the shipyard and concealed them between a pair of Commission patrol vessels along the main dock. A siren blared, interrupted by gunfire and the occasional shout. Explosions from above shook the cavern, making the long-tailed lamps swing crazily overhead and the shadows they cast to dance wildly.

"Sounds like seven sorts of hell breaking loose," said Angeline.

"This does explain why no one's keeping watch on our way in," Herrera mused. "But I would prefer we know more. Collin, my good shadow, go take a look and see what you can find out."

"On my way."

Collin climbed out, quickly and quietly, and strode down the pier.

While Bastion preferred his book, the rest of them watched Collin traipse  casually along, arms swinging by his side, not playing the role of a soldier as Turner imagined one would.

"He doesn't look like he's trying to blend in at all," Turner said. 

"Such is his talent," Herrera said, "to act like he's not even acting. Believe me, when I say, each  member of this Brigade is an expert in their craft. Collin's skills are just more subtle."

"I get where you're coming from, kiddo," said Angeline, "it takes more than subtle to impress me-"

"Back!"

Everybody jumped at the sound of Collin's voice - Everybody besides Bastion, his nose never leaving his book. The shadow man stood behind them, his reappearance like a trick pulled by a master magician.

Angeline let out a relieved sigh. "Damn, that's impressive."

"Collin!" Gorso growled.

"What?"

"We're all drowning in our own sweat, here, and you sneak up on us like that?" 

"You can't blame me for being amazing."

"Well, could you put a bell around your neck or something?"

"I could, but I think that might be a tad gaudy and possibly get us all shot."

"What's it like out there?" Herrera asked.

"Ghost town. Everybody seems to have gone upstairs. They also just ran out of apples." Collin bit into an apple.

Herrera clapped his hands together. "This distraction presents us with a grand opportunity. But let's not get caught up in the mayhem. We move as shadows. We challenge no one without good reason. Bastion - No killing."

Bastion finally pocked his small book and paid Herrera a small nod. He didn't look nervous. He didn't look raring to go, either. He looked almost disconnected from the situation. Turner suspected this was the look of a natural killer; tame but still very dangerous. Turner better understood the meaning of 'battle specialist' and couldn't help but be a little afraid of Bastion the Bookworm.

"Come, my friends. We head out!"

******

Dorothea trembled as she watched a hulking shape stride across the black iron bridge towards the island where she was imprisoned. It was the golem. She was sure of it. She'd been glued to the window ever since the first reports of gunfire jerked her awake. All attempts to stymie its progress had clearly failed and it was not only impervious to their assault but possessed sufficient defences to thwart its would-be attackers and was evidently not the least bit reluctant to employ them. She stared down at the soldiers scuttling about below, like swarms of ants that had been rudely uprooted from their nest. A thick plume of smoke rose up from the other island, the flames rolling at its base, giving body to the towering pillar lumbering through the dark of the night.

The speaker in the corner of her room crackled to life. She recognised Kritzinger's voice.

"This is an all-hands notice. By order of General Balsa, all Fortress Five personnel are to report to the shipyard for immediate evacuation. I repeat: this is an all-hands notice. By order of the Commanding Officer, the fortress grounds are to be evacuated—"

Four sonorous cracks halted Kritzinger and drew Dorothea's attention back to the window. Shells issuing from the various ships Dorothea had noticed that day scattered along the horizon sped in from the dark reaches of the night, each one blasting apart a portion of the bridge in spectacular fashion. The golem had been almost halfway across when the crossing was blown out from beneath it. Dorothea watched with a mixture of horror and relief as the golem plunged into the ocean along with the broken remnants of the bridge. The narrow stretch up to the castle's precipice was abruptly erased.

The door to Dorothea's room flew open, and one of Kritzinger's agents barged in. His face was dappled with sweat, capped by the grubby bandage on his forehead from the wound he'd received during Herrera's attempted rescue. His hair was as unruly as a wild shrub.

"You have to come with me," he insisted. "You're in danger."

"Do you mean the golem? It was on the bridge when they blew it up just now. I saw it fall into the ocean."

"They blew up the bridge?" Vale joined her at the window. Where the majestic iron bridge had once dominated the horizon, nothing remained but iron supports, their mangled ends now the bearers of nothing. He shook his head. "It doesn't matter. I need to get you out of here." He took her elbow. "We must hurry."

Another explosion drew their gazes outside in time to see the rolling tide between the two fortified isles erupt. A massive figure landed with a thud five feet from the castle's entrance, leaving a crater in its wake.

With seawater running off it in streams, the golem turned its head westward towards the open sea. Three intense beams of light, one after the other, shot from its round eye. With uncanny aim, the white ribbons blasted into the sides of the destroyers idling nearer the fortress. The three ships burst into flames that burned vividly in the night. Within minutes, nothing remained of the sinking wrecks.

The golem turned until its expressionless gaze settled on the shore opposite. It began a relentless all-out assault, drawing luminous lines across the face of the island without discrimination, its scrawl laying waste to every hanger, bunker, and freestanding structure in sight, obliterating their contents and virtually every road between them. The ensuing firestorm consumed the island complex, leaving it desolate, nothing but char and flame.

The golem scorched a line across the front of the castle, blowing the stronghold open. Dorothea and Vale staggered as the castle quaked. Vale held out his hand to her and she didn't hesitate. Clutching onto each other, they made their way quickly out the door, away from the flames reflected in the window and the raucous mantra of destruction that drew steadily closer.

******

Herrera and his team of five were creeping up a long, winding flight of stair that encircled the castle's core when the evacuation call sounded. Frightened soldiers ran headlong towards the stairs, like small children from some nameless terror, and flew past the infiltrators pressed against the wall without so much as a glance.

There were shouts to head for the shipyard, away from the commotion out front. Herrera hoped the Tartaruga's position, mostly submerged and obscured from view, would safeguard it from discovery.

A thunderous roar shook the castle to its core as the last of the soldiers emptied the stairs. Gorso grabbed Turner by the arm before he toppled over the side of the stairwell.

"This is madness," he hissed, as Herrera continued upward. "The enemy is running away, and we should be too. If our man is still here waiting for us, he's no doubt as mad as we are."

"I second that," said Angeline. "A thing that can besiege one of the great fortresses and send the Commission packing is something I don't want to meet; especially wearing what has to be the most uncomfortable pair of boots ever tailored by man. This is pretty crazy, even for us."

"When your actions may well decide the fate of the world and the very course of history, no line can be drawn between perseverance and insanity. History remembers those who believed in their cause and tried their maddest to succeed."

"I'd rather history remember me for dying of old age."

"We press forward," Herrera insisted. He gave Gorso a wry smile. "But let us be quick."

******

Vale prodded Dorothea down a long flight of stairs that extended from peak to pit. She acquiesced because there appeared to be no other option except to stay and die in this place.

All about, blasts echoed that made Dorothea's ears ring and left her clutching the railing to keep from pitching down the stone steps. Vale looked anxiously about, as if fearing discovery. With a maddened golem lurking somewhere in the castle, she couldn't blame him.

The air was thick with smoke, making it hard to breathe. Terrible, frightening sounds echoed up the stone gullet, an endless raucous parade of explosions and gunfire. All Dorothea could see through the thickening smoke at the bottom of the interstice was the lively flitter of flame and shadow, but she knew the golem was down there somewhere, no doubt adding to the ruin it had already wrought.

Dorothea wondered miserably whether she was destined to die in this place. The Commission had taken what they wanted, stolen the one cherished memento she had of her grandfather, in order to bring their monster to life. Surely her part was over. They didn't need her anymore.

Something bright shot up from the torrid square below, like a burning star intent on returning to the night sky. The bolt of light blew out a portion of the castle's tile and stone ceiling, leaving a hole large enough to see the heavens through. Heavy stone fragments fell from the breach and landed behind Dorothea, narrowly missing Vale and destroying the stairs between them. She didn't hesitate. Desperate to escape, she launched herself down the remaining stairs, not knowing what lay ahead.

She stopped in her tracks when she saw a band of eight in Commission uniforms moving up the stairs towards her. The lead man looked up and she was stunned to see it was Silverio Herrera. He lit up when he saw her. Her mind raced. They worked for the Commission? Who were these people? What were they doing here? Or were they attempting to abduct her again? The flames, the smoke, the din of devastation, the panicked bodies, and the familiar faces who would claim her – it was that fateful night on the ship all over again.

Dorothea looked around wildly. Two steps behind her was a narrow bridge leading back into the bowels of the castle. She moved to cross it.

"Child, wait!"

"Dorothea!" cried a familiar voice. She halted and looked down in disbelief at the band running up the stairs towards her. One of them broke ranks and sprinted past Herrera. Turner ran out onto the bridge and threw his arms around the stunned Dorothea. After a moment, she pulled away and looked over his shoulder.

"Turner, these people are—"

"They're good folk. You can trust them."

"But, what are you doing here?"

"I promised you, didn't I? I'm going to always be here to help you, no matter what."

"You there!" Dorothea stiffened. Kritzinger stood at the far end of the walkway. "Hold it right there, all of you," he warned, drawing his pistol. "Who authorised you to take that girl? And why are you not evacuating with the re-"

A shot rang out and the weapon flew from Kritzinger's hand and over the side of the bridge. He looked down at his now empty hand in shock. Bastion stood opposite, a steel revolver smoking in one hand.

"Bastion, stand down!" Herrera shouted. "Nobody shoots!"

"Intruders!"

Four agents stepped through the door behind Kritzinger, with another four behind them. The nine men stepped out and halted in the centre of the bridge. Unarmed, Kritzinger stood his ground at the head, while the others drew their weapons. Kritzinger waved them away. "Stand down, fools," he urged. "Those are children in your sights."

"She's coming with us," Herrera said.

"You have what you want," Dorothea said. "Just let me go! I'm not special..."

"You are special, Dorothea," Kritzinger said, taking a single step closer. "More than you know."

A lance of pure white flame shot up from below and abruptly sliced through the gap bridging the two parties. Dorothea and Turner threw themselves back towards Herrera.

They watched, stunned, as the bridge began to buckle and sag. Kritzinger's men dropped their weapons in a desperate attempt to cling to the railing for safety and began hauling themselves up the other side. As the last man clawed his way back to safety with the help of his comrades, the bridge broke from its bindings, clanging as it bounced downward, plummeting into the raging inferno that blazed below. Kritzinger's men scattered.

"The golem!"

"Golem?" Herrera turned his startled gaze onto Dorothea. "This is a golem's doing?"

"Herrera, we need to run!" yelled Collin. "Like, now, and very fast."

Leaving Kritzinger across the chasm, helpless to stop them, Herrera led his people down the stairs. They hurried, arriving at a long narrow passage that led away from the castle's flaming interior into the yawning jungle of cranes and girders that was the fortress's shipyard. On its enormous dry dock, the Commission's great warship teemed with soldiers frantically prepping it for its immediate voyage. Its steam engines were being stoked back to life, their bass growls filling the cavern.

No one noticed the small group as it skirted the ship. Their crew were at the ready and, as they scrambled aboard, the anchor was raised and the ironclad Tartaruga slipped away from the dock. To their dismay, the warship did the same, sliding down the incline on its large, wheeled cradle, descending the slipway into the sea.

"We'll never outrun her," Gorso cried. "We should take cover at the dock until it's far enough away that it won't notice us."

Herrera shook his head.

"No, it's too dangerous."

"Don't you think us being the only other boat on the water will make us stand out just a tad?"

"Something tells me we're the least of their concerns, Mr Gorso."

As the Commission's warship neared the end of the long wooden slope guiding it out to sea, a shimmering lance shot through the cavern's limestone ceiling in the direct path of the ship. Unable to move in any other direction but forward, the ship was helpless to employ evasive action. Like a hot wire through a clay slab, the idle beam sliced through the battleship from bow to stern, gravely wounding the leviathan as it slid into the sea. The two seared halves parted ways, causing it to bubble and sink. Horrified, the Tartaruga crew watched, knowing all too well they were helpless to avoid a similar attack.

"All hands to the life rafts!" a voice boomed over the ship's loudspeaker. "All hands to the life rafts now!"

Dozens of life rafts landed in the water, inflating on impact. Desperate soldiers leapt over the side and into the water after them. Within minutes, the life rafts were filled to capacity with passengers, many of them injured. Dorothea felt a pang of sympathy at their exhausted, woebegone faces.

"What the—"

Without warning, a spectacular burst of light and flame blew out the back of the castle, leaving a large charred hole surrounded by stones melted into molten slag. Blackened pieces of rubble splashed down around the ironclad Tartaruga. Clangs could be heard as several landed on it. Dorothea flinched and huddled against Turner.

Among spiralling flowers of orange flame, draped in a fine blanket of smoke, the clay giant appeared, its one round eye an angry amber tinge, like a glowing coal.

"My god," Herrera shook his head in awe. "So, that is the golem."

"We heard tell of the Commission acquiring a golem some time back," Gorso said, "recovered from the ruins of the old Davishnan capital. We weren't sure if it was true."

"You didn't mention this before," Turner said.

"It had nothing to do with our rescuing Dorothea," Herrera answered. "Such no longer appears the case."

The soldiers in the water began to paddle frantically, watching in horror as the luminescence began to build once more in the golem's eye. It shimmered with increasing intensity as a vibrant hum filled the air.

Dorothea's stare widened, her eyes welling up with tears.

"Stop it!" she gasped. "Can't you see they're running away? That's enough!"

Immediately, the light in the golem's eye faded and the fearsome giant slouched. Everyone was thunderstruck and turned to stare at Dorothea. She was as astonished as any of them. She hadn't even realized she'd spoken out loud.

And it had listened to her.

"It listened..." Herrera said, echoing both her thoughts and own wonder.

"Out of all the voices crying for mercy this night," Collin said, "it answered only yours."

"They thought it could lead them to the Golem City," Dorothea said. "I – I don't know why it's doing any of this."

"Doesn't look to be in good shape," said Angeline. "Thing's coming apart at the seams."

Dorothea considered the giant, for a moment. Half its face robbed by some Commission weapon. Its left arm was missing, and clay fragments were flaking from its built. The damage inflicted by guns and other arms were closing more slowly than before.

"If it's really from the old capital," said Herrera, "that marvel's been around since before the likes of guns and artillery."

"Incredible it could endure so long against the means of our age," Collin said. "But it appears even our ally of legend has its limits."

"Why are we wasting time, then?" Bastion asked, holstering his pistols. "We should be telling it to finish the Commission off, while it can." His suggestion was met with a resounding no from Dorothea.

"That was never our mission, Bass," Gorso said, endorsing Dorothea's sentiment.

"I'm not too big on the idea of wholesale slaughter, either," Angeline said, "tall, big and deadly out there has wrecked just about everything short of their lives, why take it further?"

"Our mission is to inhibit the Commission's ability to fight back against the world states," Bastion said, speaking his opinion without malice but a cold logic. "We could put a real dent in the Commission's strength, here and now, if we see this through all the way."

"I'm not going to kill all those people," Dorothea declared.

"But you won't be killing them," Bastion said, "that thing will be. You don't even have to watch."

"But I do, because I'll be the one responsible!"

Bastion's pitiless mask cracked briefly, giving way to an almost admiring look. With that, the gunslinger mutely ceded the discussion.

"So the kid won't ask the hulking clay thing to kill everyone, ok, good stuff, I can go with that," Angeline pointed at the golem, "but what happens if the Commission figures out how to make it listen to them rather than her? Even if the thing is half-dead, it could still lead them to the city, can't it?"

"She's right," Gorso said. "The Commission will send reinforcements, and they'll take the golem back, especially if it doesn't resist. If they figure out what makes it tick, then there's no telling what..."

"That's it!" cried an excited Dorothea.

"Bah!" Gorso said, clutching his chest. "Watch it, with that, love! Like Collin doesn't provide me enough frights and heart attacks..."

Dorothea stared right at the golem.

"I think I can help. I was told I could take it back."

"Take what back?"

"What makes it tick." Her ancestor had recalled the name once before... Couldn't she do it too, then? Without the name, the golem would be just a statue and the Commission would never be able to force it to find the Golem City for them.

"Come back to me," Dorothea whispered. "You mustn't help them. Please, I need you to come back. I'm begging you-"

Thousands of minute cracks webbed the golem's surface, like veins that swelled to bursting point. Everyone watched in awe as it crumbled into grains of sand, carried off by the greedy wind that peppered the sea with its remains. The castle followed suit, succumbing to the fire that devoured it, disintegrating and falling into the ocean in the golem's wake. A hush fell, punctuated only by the cries of the soldiers tossed about on the otherwise empty sea.

"Was that meant to happen?"

Dorothea shook her head, entirely at a loss.

"Fret not, young Dovetail. Better it left in nobody's hands than in theirs." Herrera turned his attention to his crew, "Bastion, Collin, stoke the burner. Angeline, prepare the balloon. Mr Gorso, set a course due east. We head home."

Dorothea turned an anxious glance out towards the soldiers who bobbed up and down on the swells.

"What about them?"

"They'll live," Gorso said. "They'll make for shore as eagerly as they departed, count on it."

Silence settled over the group as everyone except Dorothea and Turner busied themselves with the tasks at hand.

"Been through quite a bit these past few days, haven't you, my brave Dorothea?" Herrera said, once they were thoroughly underway. "I regret if my men and I contributed to your ordeal. I just hope we've proven in some way that we mean you no harm."

"You have, Mr Herrera. Thank you."

"Many questions, many questions, I have," Herrera said.

Dorothea, indeed, sensed questions in the air, begging to be asked: What had happened to her after she was taken, why had she been taken, how had the golem been resurrected...?

"But we can discuss then later. Now, you rest."

Dorothea was relieved. She was so tired.

"You're trembling," Herrera said, taking off his large coat and throwing it around Dorothea. "Head up top, if you like. Nothing soothes the soul like some fresh sea air."

Dorothea climbed slowly up onto the top of the Tartaruga, Turner following in her wake.

Above them, the Tartaruga's balloon was inflating, its many panels unfolding as it billowed.

"Are you okay?" Turner whispered, sitting beside her on the Tartaruga's cold metal roof. His face was covered in soot and smudged with sweat. He hadn't left her side since they reunited. She found his constant presence, despite the close quarters, a comfort. She nodded. "Turner, how did you meet these people?'

"That's a long story. But it can wait a bit."

Together, they stared at the amber-hued skyline, where the castle had stood. It was as if it had never existed, as if it had all been a dream. She thought of the beloved paper sculpture that her grandfather had given her and her hand crept up to her throat, touching the now empty purse that hung there. She was crestfallen.

Something fluttered down from the ochre sky, gliding like a windswept feather towards her. Without thinking, Dorothea reached out and caught it in her hand. It was a piece of parchment. With wide eyes and eager hands, she opened it, recognising the strange script scrawled on it. Her keepsake had found her again. She looked at it in awe, reasoning that, if the residing spirit could make elements like water and earth do its bidding, why not the wind?

While the name remained mostly intact, some parts of the parchment had been burned off. Was that why the golem had been crumbling? Was a golem imperishable, only so long as the parchment that animated it remained intact? Like many things about the golem, she could only guess.

"Dorothea, what is that?"

"A long story," Dorothea said, slipping the singed parchment back into her pouch. "A very, very long story."

"Alright, kids, time to come back inside," Herrera called out. "We're heading to the skies, and from there, home."

"Where's that?"

Herrera smiled. "At Rainbow's End, of course!"