Air shimmered in the infinite distance as the sun crawled into the burning sky.

If Clayton was sane he would be sheltered, hiding in the thin shadows of a rocky cleft, or maybe buried under the hard, arid ground during the heat of day. But then, if he was truly sane he wouldn't be here at all.

The clouds had boiled off in the heat leaving only the punishing clarity of a vast blue sky. Nothing stirred in the oppressive heat, not on the ground nor in the air. Even the vultures had abandoned him.

Still, Clayton trudged forward, one determined step after another. The last piece of dried bread had been supper two nights ago, the final drop of water, today's lunch. Nothing remained to power his parched body but the thought of revenge.

von Hiderstraussen.

The name was like flame to his mind, igniting a burning rage within each time he thought it.

It was no accident that Clayton was here, in this wasteland doom. Only the machinations of the German could have proceeded so perfectly. Of this Clayton had no doubt. Recent events had played the strings of coincidence too perfectly for the discord of true chance to intrude.

And that smelled of von Hiderstraussen.

Then why, in his heat-induced haze, did he see another form? A perfect hourglass that teased and taunted him. Why was she inextricably linked to the German in his thoughts? And why did that bring such pain?

Visions swam in the hot air before him: cyclopean metal monsters, large flying eggs, the breath of a dragon and twin pairs of smiling eyes--one monocled, one bright blue, long lashes fluttering enticingly.

And he knew.

It had all begun with her.