"There, you are wrong, young lady," the commodore huffed. "We are talking about time, and I know all about time. I know what is supposed to happen in it and what actually does happen in it. I know the difference between history and reality. I have dedicated my life to making reality conform more closely to history." Daria's expression grew only more unimpressed. "How can there be histories for things that haven't even happened yet?"

Waggling a finger beside his shaggy ear, Commodore Guff said, "And I would ask you how things can happen unless there is history?"

"Damn it," Urza said, growing irate. "We're wasting time." "Yes! Damn it," Commodore Guff said, tapping his pocket watch. "Damn it! Damn it!" He slipped the device into a vest pocket, seemed to lose it, and patted furiously. Nettled, he looked up. "Do you know what Teferi did? Phased out Zhalfir and Shiv! That'll take about a century to sort out-the little sneak." "One thing at a time," Urza said, trying to calm the man. "Yes." Commodore Guff nodded, quietly adding, "Damn it…" "All right, one final stop," Urza said, sweeping his companions away with him in a sudden planeswalk. The infinite library of Commodore Guff ceased to be, though the waistcoated gentleman still clutched a book from it. He slammed the volume closed, noticed his monocle was missing, and patted his vest again.

The crew arrived in utter blackness. Brimstone scented the air. Normally, planeswalkers could see into the darkest corners. Where sight was denied them, it was denied by one of their ilk.

That one circled them even now. His presence was titanic. His flesh was gelid and rubbery. A hint of a long tentacle slipped away into inky darkness. A scaly shoulder showed itself and was gone. A baleful eye watched them all. There came the distinct impression of teeth set in a razor smile.

"Bother!" Commodore Guff said, gaping into the darkness.

"Tevash Szat? Since when does he want to make Dominaria anything but an ice cube?"

The voice that answered seethed gladly. "You know me. Yes. I once tried to freeze the world-no thanks to you, Freyalise-only wishing to preserve it in perfect memory. I fight for Dominaria. How could it be preserved if it is overrun by… roaches?"

The commodore sniffed. "You yourself have had dealings with those roaches."

"Yes," the voice allowed quietly. "When the dealings suited me. Losing the world to Yawgmoth does not suit me."

"We are all agreed on that," Urza said. "Szat will be our inside agent. He knows Phyrexia better than even I."

"You spoke of eight guardians of Dominaria, aside from yourself, Urza," Taysir pointed out. "Who is the last?"

"Lord Windgrace. Just now, he aids Barrin in the battle of Urborg. I will send for him when the isles are secure. As for the rest of us-" the gesture was unseen, though it encompassed even dark-swathed Tevash Szat.

Suddenly they stood within a deep, dark canyon. Its floor and walls were black basalt. A dome of scintillating energy shimmered above. A volcanic plateau dominated the center of the cleft. On that prominence rested a weird city fashioned of obsidian. Once, this valley had been filled with Phyrexians, trapped within a fast time rift. They had built-and been purged from-the City of K'rrick. Since then, the gorge had become Urza's private laboratory. In it, nine new wonders had taken shape.

"Titans, I call them," Urza said, breathing happily.

Against the walls of the canyon sat nine monumental figures. They seemed huge warriors, slumped in rest. Each colossus was a suit of power armor. Massive armaments bristled from the hands and shoulders and feet of the machines-ray cannons, plasma blasters, powerstone ballistae, energy bombards, sonic shock generators, falcon engines, and countless other innovations.

"Bother," Commodore Guff said, paging through the book he held. "There's not a single word written on these yet."

"In these suits, we will launch our attack on Phyrexia. First, though, we will assist the coalition armies of Metathran, elves, and Benalians in the Battle of Koilos."

Daria sneered, "It would take months to learn to use these suits."

"Luckily, we have months-two to be exact. The coalition forces plan an attack on the Caves of Koilos in two weeks of normal time. We will be ready by then."

"It is time," Commodore Guff said decisively. "Damn it, it's time!"

Chapter 31

Barrin fought a futile, one-man fight over Urborg.

At first, Urza's coalition had held strong, but the Phyrexians were too many, too vicious. They slew the Keldons and Metathran to a man. They drove Serrans and elves and panther warriors from the isles. When the costs of battle mounted, Urza himself had summoned Darigaaz and the dragon nations away to Koilos, and enlisted Lord Windgrace for his titan corps. In the battle of Urborg, he left a single warrior-"My one-man army." Mage Master Barrin floated high above the rankling central volcano. He surveyed the wreckage of the past month. Helionauts burned on the ground. Longships sank in the brine. Angels lay dead in rainwater swamps and elves in saltwater marshes. Metathran were crucified to cypress trees. Keldons rotted in kelp beds. Muck made them all seem slain pigs. Bugs the size of fish fed on them- worse things too. Phyrexians clambered like roaches over the dead.

There were victories, of course. Two of the Phyrexian cruisers lay in broken heaps. The minions of the lich lord crawled into the fallen hulks like maggots into corpses. Ghouls and scavenger folk tricked away whatever they could and matched claws and teeth with the Phyrexians there. Barrin let them annihilate each other.

A worse battle loomed. This morning, a storm front had formed above the western sea. The clouds approached with slow confidence. All the while, they gathered steam and wrath above the churning ocean. The storm had rolled within a score of miles before Barrin saw what it hid. Along its advancing edge appeared the black prows of seven, eight… twelve Phyrexian cruisers.

"If I fight this fight alone, I will lose the island and myself," Barrin reasoned. "If Urza wants this stink-swamp saved-for whatever unfathomable reason-he will have to grant me more aid."

Closing his eyes, Barrin drew a long, deep breath of the brimstone air. He tapped memories of another island, of blue and beautiful Tolaria. Power surged through him, the azure energies of magical manipulation. Space folded. Barrin leaped from one wrinkle to another. Urborg vanished away beneath him, taking its envelope of steamy heat. Koilos formed, equally hot, but as dry as a furnace.

Barrin hovered above sand dunes and rills of rock. In the sheer distance, Phyrexians filled the world. They drilled and rested, fought for the best food and gobbled it down live, rode trench worms and burned their murdered own. In the near distance, coalition armies camped- Metathran, Benalish, and elf, with dragons sleeping in their midst.

Urza would be just beyond them, under that long line of canvas. The fabric hid a deep trench hewn from bedrock by artifact engines. It was Urza's secret bunker, a thousand feet deep, two thousand feet long, and a hundred feet wide. Within the bunker, he kept his secret weapons-the titan engines.

Drifting slowly down to the canvas, Barrin swept his hand over himself. He turned momentarily insubstantial and slid through the fabric.

Cool darkness filled the bunker. Titan engines stood against one wall, seeming watchers in an ancient tomb. In a few of the cannon-toting machines, planeswalkers fiddled, finalizing the settings of their command pods.

At the base of the trench, Urza worked. He had set up his folding travel table, a massive workspace that compacted into a slim panel of wood. Maps of Koilos lay neatly arrayed before the master artificer. He scribed confident lines across them, projecting angles of attack.