The full moon glinted off the snow blanketing the long plateau nestled in Mount Katavsk’s crook. Klara strode across the expanse towards a small box of a building huddled in the mountain’s shadow. Zin and Mikhail followed close behind, their boots crunching in the snow.

  A frigid wind tore at her half-mask and hood, trying to claw through the stiff leather. Sovereign Sculptor, didn’t you make it cold enough down on the tundra?

  Vera’s Revenge sat a hundred yards from the stone building, amidst several other airships.

  A shiver unrelated to the cold ran up Klara’s spine. Beneath her feet lay Katavsk. More specifically, the Gate Cavern, or as the Sentinels knew it, the Arena.

  Sergei had told her that when the Katavsk Gate opened nearly three decades ago, it had rent the mountain, leaving a deep valley. The gate sat in the centre of the valley, and every time a dragon travelled through it, the gate sent shockwaves that shattered anything within a hundred feet of it.

  With the aid of the Alchemists, they’d sealed in the valley with thousands of tonnes of stone, leaving a huge cavern surrounding the gate.

  A cavern in which over the decades, thousands of Sentinels had died killing dragons before they could escape the contained space.

  A cavern in which her father had lost his arm.

  A cavern in which Lokteva had died.

  Klara shuddered as she recalled the day forever burned into her mind: the day her father returned a broken and defeated man. She remembered every word Sergei had screamed, every tear she had shed. Every piece of furniture breaking.

  Klara could see Elana weeping in the corner, cradling Mikhail, her face as white as her hair.

  Sergei’s pain never faded, it only got buried deeper. A temper to replace a daughter; bitterness to replace an arm.

  As tears stung her eyes afresh and instantly froze, Klara forced the memory down and rubbed the frozen tears away. No time for old wounds now.

  They reached the stone building, and the door opened and a watcher stepped out, his gas rifle raised.

  “Courier,” Klara said, holding up a sealed metal tube with a Sentinel stamp on it. A present from Yuri. Klara hadn’t asked how Yuri had acquired it. Probably much the same way he’d acquired his impressive arsenal.

  The guard waved them through, and they stepped into the meagre warmth of the building. To the right, a wide, brightly lit flight of stairs disappeared down into the mountain.

  The air warmed with every step, and soon they removed their hoods and half-masks.

  After hundreds of steps, they reached a long landing covered with Sentinels. No one paid any attention to them.

  To the right, several tall doorways stood. Klara’s breath caught in her throat. Beyond those doorways lay the Arena’s battlements. She hesitated.

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  “What is it, Klara?” Mikhail asked.

  Klara peered through the closest doorway, trying to catch a glimpse of the Arena beyond it.

  “Go on,” Mikhail said. “I know where I’m going. I’ll find you later, all right?”

  Klara shot him a grateful look.

  His eyes twinkled as he winked at her then turned and strode to the stairs.

  “You coming, Zin?” Klara asked as Mikhail disappeared from sight. “See what we missed out on?”

  “I think I should go with Mikhail, make sure he’s safe.”

  Klara began to object then paused. “You know what? That’s a good idea, Zin.”

  “Course it is,” Zin said, throwing her a lazy salute as she headed after Mikhail.

  Full of trepidation, Klara stepped through the doorway.

  Her jaw dropped as she found herself standing on a huge, sweeping battlement. Sentinels of all ranks patrolled the parapets and every few hundred feet a tower rose, atop which Klara knew were powerful gaslamp spotlights and harpoon cannons. Beyond the battlement lay a giant cavern three hundred yards across and half a mile long.

  Klara walked up to the parapet and covered her mouth with a hand as she stared, wide-eyed at the sight before her.

  The Katavsk Gate.

  The shimmering green oval large enough for a dragon to leap through hovered a few feet off the ground in the centre of the cavern. The ground surrounding it was torn and shattered as though a giant hand had gauged the rock.

  Hundreds of powerful gaslamps were strung along the high ceiling and fought to light the mind-bending space.

  Klara edged forwards until she could see over the parapets. She swallowed as bile rose in her throat. The wall disappeared into a deep, dark moat that ran along the base. A moat designed to keep wingless dragons from climbing up. In the event of a winged dragon coming through the gate, a division of Sentinels would wait on the battlements to defend the harpoon cannons from airborne assaults.

  The shimmering gate quickly recaptured Klara’s attention and she could only stare. She belonged out there, fighting dragons as they burst into the world. An icy hatred came from nowhere and slithered through Klara, chilling her to the core. Every hurt, every injustice, every nightmare she had suffered was for nothing. All because Kozlowek decided that despite Klara’s decade of service to Serovnya, she’d dishonour her. A decade of right toppled by a single mistake. Klara sighed. That life was gone. Forever.

  She stood, lost in thought as she watched the gate, transfixed by the swirls of vibrant green that flickered around the oval. For the first time in a decade, her future was a hazy shadow. For so long, one goal had dominated her life. Now she stood less than two hundred yards from that future and yet it was further away than ever before.

  Suddenly, a high pitched whine resonated through the cavern. Klara looked around, trying to find the source of the noise. The Sentinels surrounding her all turned to stare at the gate. Klara followed their gaze.

  All movement of the gate had ceased, like a frozen emerald lake, it sat there.

  Klara looked closer and her hearts began to pound in her chest. It wasn’t frozen. The green oval was vibrating so fast it looked still.

  “Dragon!” someone yelled.

  An explosive crack, so loud Klara felt it in her bones, echoed through the cavern, and the gate disappeared amongst a cloud of dust and debris.

  The battlements burst into life. A distant gong sounded. Sentinels’ hoods and masks went up as they sprinted to their stations. Entire squads darted down ladders to the armoury below.

  Heavy uzhasgart doors rolled one by one across the doorways leading into Katavsk. Klara stared at them. She had time to leave before they sealed the Arena. Hearts thumping in her chest, Klara slid her half-mask into place and pulled her hood up. Don’t do it, you fool. You’re here to protect Mikhail.

  One fight, then she’d have her vengeance and be free to help Mikhail.

  You might die! You don’t even know if it’s a Nishkuk! It could be any kind of dragon.

  It could be. But regardless, she had to know if she had what it took and know she hadn’t wasted her life training.

  Wanting nothing more than to throw up, Klara joined the flow of Sentinels heading to the armoury.