Free Edge of Destiny by J. Robert King

straps to stabilize in case the golem falls over.”
    “Ouch,” Eir said.
    Snaff nodded. “Yes, and you see that there’s plenty of clearance for flailing arms and legs.”
    “Show me how far we are.”
    Snaff led Eir to the worktables that held the metal golems. From the belly of Big Zojja, a blinding light flashed, and acrid smoke whiffed into the air. The light ceased, and Zojja’s head popped from the opening, her hair slightly singed. She set smoking hands on the golem fuselage.
    “Have you been welding by hand again?” Snaff asked.
    “It’s fastest,” Zojja said dismissively. “But I’ve got to make sure my eyes are shut.”
    “How are the cockpits coming?” Snaff went on.
    “Nearly done. Both are welded to the frame. Then you can hang your rigs.”
    “Ingenious,” Eir marveled.
    Zojja huffed. “Only if you trust metal over magic.”
    “Eir,” Snaff interrupted, “I don’t think I’ve shown you the laurels. . . .”
    “Wait,” Eir said, staring at Zojja. “What did you say?”
    “I said I don’t know why the two of you are putting more trust in golems than in magic.”
    “They’re magic golems,” Snaff volunteered with a weak smile.
    Eir waved him off. “No, wait. This isn’t about magic or metal. This is about Zojja disagreeing with the plan.”
    Zojja nodded tightly. “Exactly.”
    Eir folded her arms over her chest. “So you don’t think your master’s designs are good enough?”
    Zojja’s eyes flared. “Of course they are!”
    “So you don’t think your welds are good enough?”
    “My welds are rock solid!”
    “So you don’t think my plans are good enough.”
    Zojja pointed at her. “ There you go.”
    Eir nodded. “Well, your reservations are noted, but the plan goes ahead.”
    “Then we’re all going to get killed.”
    Eir laughed angrily, shaking her head. “No, we won’t. I promise you, we will kill the Dragonspawn, and every one of us will walk out of there alive.”
    Zojja cocked her hips. “If I die, it’ll be too late to say I told you so.”
    Eir towered above the asura. “Your master is a kind man. You could have much worse. In fact, every asura I have encountered would make a much worse master.”
    “Thank you very much,” Snaff said. “And now, about the laurels—”
    “But he has one fault,” Eir continued, never looking away from Zojja. “He lets you pretend you are the master.”
    “That’s because he recognizes that I am a genius,” Zojja said archly.
    Eir shook her head. “You work with a genius, and yet you disdain everything he does. He treats you with respect, and you act as if he is your enemy. One day, you will be without him, and then you will see who the true genius is.”
    Zojja rolled her eyes. “Nice speech.”
    Eir clenched her hands, gritted her teeth, and turned away.
    Snaff smiled and blinked placidly. “Let me show you these wonderful laurels.” He retrieved a pair of golden torcs from a nearby table and brought them over. Powerstones in red, yellow, purple, and green gleamed in settings of gold. “Beautiful, aren’t they? The stones are selected to map to the activation zones of our minds.”
    The word minds cast a pall over Eir’s face. “Yes. Minds. There’s the flaw in my plan.” She glanced over her shoulder, then looked back down at Snaff. “The Dragonspawn takes over minds. He corrupts them. His power infuses them, tempts them. He turns those who want to kill him into those who want to serve him. These machines are no good unless we can block his mind powers.”
    Snaff grinned like a boy who had studied well for a test. “He can’t. That’s why I’ve placed these here,” he said, tapping a powerstone embedded in the shoulder piece of Big Zojja. “The gray stones repel mind auras. Out here on the shoulders, they’ll create a field that will block the Dragonspawn’s mind. He can’t reach us, and he can’t take over our golems.”
    Eir slapped Snaff on the back, a move that shuffled him a few