Iron Warriors Book Novels & Stories

In the high tower behind me, I heard Lyra’s voice echo down the stone steps. "Contact," the whole-board reader said. "Grid is active. Painting targets." Miles inland, hidden behind the mountains, Cord’s forty Iron Voices were loaded and locked. In the deep keep, three hundred Firewalls closed their eyes and braced for the end of the world. And in the trenches above the beach, Zane drew his heavy, straight iron sword, the Long Carrier standing at the front of a line of a thousand silent wolves. The mapmaker on the beach had smiled because he thought he was fighting beasts.

— And this is where we come from now. Ragnar looked up at the large building. It was the same big, big fortress, but it dwarfed all the surrounding buildings. A hole pierced the wall and glowed like the eyes of a hungry beast. At the top of the building was a huge metal flower the size of a dragon boat. Ragnar could not guess what the target was. A large iron gate blocked the way forward at the beginning of the road. Ragnar's softness and blows made it possible to say that many feet have passed this way over hundreds of years. Above the door are carved strange runes that Ragnar has never seen before. Two guards, armed with iron harpoons, guarded the road. They seemed to be made of metal. The

Garrett The clearing is exactly as I remembered from my scouting trip yesterday. Secluded, peaceful, with a small stream running along one edge. I've set up blankets, cushions, and most importantly—a stack of books. Iris stops when she sees it, hand flying to her mouth. "You did all this?" Her voice is soft with wonder. "I wanted it to be special." I guide her to the blankets. "And I found something I thought you'd like." I hand her the top book. It's old, leather-bound, with gilt lettering. "Advanced Theories in Shield Construction and Consciousness-Based Magical Architecture."

If that's the norm, I won't care if I'm included or not. I just went to the library to read a book about Eleftheria. Maybe there is information there about the volcano. I will just pour out my anger and annoyance there. I am being immature and I don't understand myself either. The Palace library is spacious. Even if I spend a year reading it I won't finish all the books. Fortunately, it's easy to find what you need to read here because there are names. I went to the row where there were books about different parts of Valeria. I saw there a book about Samona, Caracass, Avalone, and Valencia. There was also a book about monsters in the Valeria forest and Eleftheria caught my eye.

I whispered, slamming the slagged iron down onto the open page of the leather book. The Ledger of the Scar I didn't write a line of text. I used the heat of the molten iron to burn a hole straight through the center of the manuscript. The effect was an instantaneous, systemic shockwave. The valley didn't freeze; it recoiled. The iron Enforcers froze mid-strike, their hydraulic lines locking up as the text that authorized their existence was physically incinerated in the leather book.

And whether she liked it or not, that made her a target. I headed back to her room and let myself in. If she wasn't going to tell me where she'd gone, maybe her belongings would. The room was exactly as feminine and frilly as I'd expected—all pastels and lace and delicate furniture that looked like it would break if you breathed on it too hard. But the books on her nightstand told a different story. I picked up the first one. The Art of Blade Combat: Techniques and Strategies. The second. Mastering Self-Control: A Guide to Mental Discipline.

“Do you understand? Human children, families… cities… if you strike, if this escalates…” Samuel’s gaze softened for a moment—a flicker of the man he once was—but it vanished instantly. “Collateral is inevitable. I am not your Adrian,” he said, voice sharp as a blade. “I am the Iron King. And the world will learn fear or it will perish.”

“When?” Eli shook his head. “Soon. He’s got the Iron Fangs in. Dave is running with him now.” Ramirez cursed under his breath. “Idiots aligning with monsters.” He stepped back and studied the kid again—wet hair, cracked lips, the trembling hands of someone who hadn’t slept since the last mistake he made. “You look like you’re about to break, Barker.” “I just want out,” Eli said quietly. “I didn’t sign up for this war.”

“This is the only thing I owned that was just for me.” Igor watched me, his expression softening completely. “Keep it. It is your armor now. It is the uniform of the free man.” Finally, I retrieved the book Leo had placed on the sofa earlier: the thick, dense edition of Thucydides’ History of the Peloponnesian War. I opened it to a random page, and the quiet scent of old paper and dust hit me.

I tell her, remembering I am now her new tutor. "Okay," she sighs. "What would you like to read?" I ask, and as if I made her day again, she smiles brilliantly and answers: "Ovid's Metamorphosis!" I can't help but laugh at her enthusiasm. "Why that book?" I am intrigued a little girl would be so excited to read a book meant for college students. I should know. I had to read the book as part of my mythology elective. "Because of the gods and goddesses!" She simply answers.