His Ancient Heart by M. R. Forbes

taking control of his face. Talon looked back, finding Oz racing towards them, the juggernaut carrying his massive sword in hand and bearing down on the soldiers.  
    "My apologies, your Lordship," Talon said, dropping the clothes from his arms and striking the soldier in the face with enough force to break his nose. He grabbed the hilt of the man's sword even as he fell to the ground.
    He heard the thwip of bowstrings, and the ping of the arrowheads smacking against Oz, his heavy shell deflecting them without concern.  
    "Oz," Talon shouted.
    The juggernaut didn't pause. It steamed past him, swinging its huge blade and cutting the soldiers down from their mounts.
    "Oz," he repeated.
    Oz turned, its red eyes blazing. "It is pleased to see First of Nine."
    "What did you do?" The first soldier was still alive, on his hands and knees. Talon put the sword to his throat. "Be still."
    The soldier didn't move.
    "It is worried. It is coming."
    "Worried?"
    "It is not right back."
    Talon looked at the corpses of the other soldiers. Oz had almost cut them in half.
    "I was coming back," he said. "I was dealing with them."
    "It is worried."
    It said it as though that was all the reason it needed.
    "I gave you an order," Talon said.
    Oz was silent.
    "Oz. You disobeyed me."
    The juggernaut was still. "It is sorry."
    Talon stared back at the creature. There was much more to it than he understood, but there was one thing he was sure of: Oz was not like any of the other juggernauts. The question was, why?
    "Here," Talon said, picking up the cloak and holding it out to it. "Put this on, quickly. You should have left your sword with mine. Now we have to find somewhere to hide it."
    "It is sorry," Oz repeated. It put the sword on the ground and took the offered cloak and deftly slipped it over its shoulders with one arm. Then it took the hat and placed it over its head.
    "It is wearing clothes," Oz said.
    "Yes. Keep the cloak closed." Even though Urla had gotten it from a man called 'the bear' it was still pulling at the juggernaut's shoulders, and it barely dropped to the top of its ankles. The hat was also pulled on tight, the shadow of the wide brim just barely enough to keep its face in darkness, the glow if its eyes hidden.  
    Talon looked down at the soldier, who stayed motionless beneath the sword. He shifted his hand forward and drew a neat line into his bare neck, cutting deep. The soldier gurgled in pain and fell.  
    Murderer.
    Talon closed his eyes.  
    Yes. He saw too much. A risk we couldn't take.
    "Let's go," he said, dropping the sword to the dirt next to the body.  
    Before they could, a rush of footsteps echoed around them. The soldiers ran in from the alleys and cross-streets, a hundred strong or more. Dozens of arrows trained on them, tense bowmen keeping their strings taught and ready to loose.  
    Oz started reaching for its sword.
    "Don't," Talon said. "That is an order, and you had better follow it."
    Oz stopped moving.
    Three men on horseback parted the masses, riding ahead to where they stood. One took the reins of the dead soldier's horses. The other two came close.
    "Silas Morningstar," Fehri said, his eyes filled with disgust at the carnage. "You are under arrest."

CHAPTER TWELVE
    Spyne

    General Spyne made the last few steps up to the top of the ridge. He was sweaty from the climb, breathing hard, the anger pulsing beneath the surface of an icy stare. The rest of the Historians filed in behind him, wheezing and gasping, complaining at the soreness of their muscles, and wishing they had been able to bring the horses up the steep terrain.  
    All except Worm. He didn't so much climb the mountain as flow up it, soundlessly making the ascent without breaking a sweat, without breathing any harder, and of course without a word. He was the one who paused next to Spyne, looking down the slope on the other side towards the distant ruin that was Genesia.
    "Home," Spyne said.  
    The small emotion that had sat in his gut for