Grand Admiral Meng wiped blood from his chin with the back of his gauntlet.
His neat topknot had come loose. His eyes had the wild look of a man watching three hundred years of certainty fall apart.
“He mocked us,” Meng rasped. “He gave me a thumbs-up.”
He grabbed the nearest formation master by the collar and lifted him off the deck.
“Are we the vanguard of Great Yan, or a repair crew for southern plumbing? Answer me!”
“We are the Imperial Void Armada, Supreme Commander!” the old man squeaked.
Meng threw him aside and drew his executioner’s blade.
“ALL HANDS TO BATTLE STATIONS! Load the broadside batteries! Wind the dragon-bone ballistae! Prepare the soul-piercing harpoons! If we cannot freeze him, we will fill his cabin with holes and drop the whole ridge into the earth!”
Three hundred marines raced across the decks. Bronze winches screamed as they drew the giant bows. Six-foot harpoons slid into their tracks, and gun captains aimed at the lodge.
Below, a deep growl rolled across the plaza.
Grrrrrrrrrr.
Cerberus Pug trotted out from beneath the porch.
All eight hundred pounds of him.
His black coat shone in the sunlight. Muscle rolled beneath it with every step, and his paws struck the stone like iron lids.
Pug stopped at the porch edge and raised all three wrinkled heads.
Six golden eyes studied the Sun-Slayer.
A sensible person would have seen an eight-hundred-foot flying fortress armed with enough weapons to destroy a kingdom.
Pug saw something long, pointed at both ends, and floating at a reasonable catching height.
Best of all, nobody was holding it.
One thought lit up all three of his brains.
STICK.
His stubby tail began hammering the porch boards.
Thump-thump-thump!
Three noses twitched at the smells of hot grease, sulfur powder, and frightened sailors. Three pink tongues flopped out, dripping happy drool onto the clean plaza.
Austin glanced up from his citation.
“Pug? What did we say about bothering aircraft? They haven’t paid their parking tab.”
Pug heard nothing. He saw only the stick.
KAAAA-BOOM!
His four paws cracked the black tiles as he launched five hundred feet into the air.
“WOOF! RUFF! ARF!”
All three heads barked as he sailed toward the flagship.
Lookouts dropped their spyglasses.
“Incoming projectile!”
“It’s a dog! A giant three-headed dog!”
CRASH-SMASH-BANG!
Pug hit the deck like a falling safe.
The dreadnought rolled thirty degrees. Ballistae tore loose from their bolts and slid across the tilted deck. Powder barrels broke their lashings and tumbled over the rail. Two hundred marines landed in a tangled heap of armor and bruised pride.
Pug landed on all four paws. His claws cut six-inch grooves through the Emperor’s thousand-year heart-pine decking.
He shook himself from nose to tail, sending sparks across the bridge.
“Repel boarders!” a marine captain shouted. He drove a Dragon-Bone spear into Pug’s ribs.
CLANG!
The spearhead snapped. The shaft burst into splinters.
Pug did not notice the attack. He leaned against the captain, happily accepting what he assumed was a rib scratch. The gentle nudge knocked the officer over a coil of rope.
Left Head began exploring.
He found a five-inch braided steel cable humming behind a brass grate. Azure light ran along its length. It carried power from the floating crystal keel to the ship’s thrusters.
To Left Head, it smelled like hot marrow.
CHOMP-CRUNCH!
His jaws cut through steel, insulation, and spiritual mesh.
BZZZZT-POP-BANG!
Blue energy sprayed across the bridge. The backup thrusters sputtered and died.
[WARNING: KEEL LINE BREACHED. LEVITATION POWER LOSS: 88%]
Right Head found the ship’s ten-foot steering wheel on the navigation dais. It was carved from dragon-blood hardwood, covered in gold leaf, and marked with royal seals.
To Right Head, it was the king of chew toys.
CRUNCH-SPLINTER!
He sank his fangs into the wheel and shook it until the ancient wood burst into yellow matchsticks. Gold leaf floated through the bridge like tinsel. Right Head tore away a four-foot piece and held it up with pride.
Center Head walked over to Grand Admiral Meng.
The Admiral still stood at the rail, staring blankly while a giant hound dismantled his flagship.
Center Head sniffed his breastplate. He smelled burned blood, brass polish, and salted beef jerky inside Meng’s sash.
Clearly, this was a friend.
Pug dragged a five-foot pink tongue up the Admiral’s face.
SCHLUUUUUURP!
Warm drool covered Meng’s nose, eyes, beard, and golden helmet. Meng did not react. His mind had left the premises.
Without its main power line or steering wheel, the Sun-Slayer dipped toward the ground.
SCHWWWWOOOOOM.
Its broad iron hull caught the mountain updraft. Instead of falling like an anvil, the ship entered a slow, unpowered glide. Its fins leveled the hull fifty feet above the eastern ridge.
The landing skids hit the gravel.
THUD-SKIDDDDD.
They cut two straight furrows through the lot. The warship slid for three hundred yards, losing speed until it stopped perfectly level.
When the dust settled, the flagship sat centered between two white chalk lines. Austin had snapped them with an eighty-foot reel.
Cerberus Pug jumped off the bow and trotted back to Austin. His tail wagged so hard it blurred. Right Head still carried the soggy piece of the Emperor’s steering wheel.
At Austin’s boots, Pug dropped it.
Clink.
He sat with his front paws together and looked up. Six golden eyes shone with pride. Three tongues panted happily.
Austin looked at the chewed wood, then at the five-thousand-ton warship parked four inches from the curb.
He nodded.
From his pocket, he produced three foot-long sticks of smoked jerky and tossed one to each head.
Gulp. Gulp. Gulp.
Then he scratched all six ears.
“Good boy, Pug. Proper parking enforcement. Next time wait until they land.” Austin checked the marines crawling out from beneath ropes and loose gear. Nobody appeared crushed. “We need those winches in one piece, and I’d rather not spend the day digging sailors out of the deck.”