Dragon Storm

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Dragon Storm Page 19

by Lindsay Buroker


  Maybe, instead of speculating on education opportunities, you should worry about the fact that they’re coming this way. And they have guns.

  Uh. Trip looked in the direction Leftie had gone, wanting to warn him, since he didn’t know if Jaxi could protect him from a distance, but he’d disappeared belowdecks. I don’t suppose you can tell him to stay down there, Jaxi?

  I don’t think he would be amenable to hearing my words in his mind. You could tell him quite easily.

  I don’t know how.

  You really should have come to the capital several months before this mission so Sardelle could have begun your training.

  Nobody sent me orders calling me over there until this week. Trip kept an eye on the men on the gangplank, but also on what had turned out to be six contraptions, all flying over the lagoon and angling toward his ship. Toward him.

  The military is so shortsighted, Jaxi said.

  Trip glimpsed Kaika, Blazer, and Rysha walking on the waterfront street, perhaps a quarter of a mile away, and wiped his brow in relief. As a captain, he ought to be able to handle toll-collecting pirates on his own, but he would be glad to foist the problem off on a superior officer.

  But the men didn’t give him time. Bolstered by the contraptions’ approach, they lifted their rifles and pistols, aiming at Trip.

  He crouched to spring away, but Jaxi ordered, Stay. I’ll protect you. And you don’t want them coming aboard, remember?

  She sent more than words into his mind—a hint of power accompanied them, and he wasn’t sure he could have jumped away if he’d wanted to.

  Guns cracked, and bullets fired, but true to Jaxi’s word, they bounced off the invisible barrier a few feet in front of him. Just as had happened in the forest.

  The men tried to rush him on the heels of their bullets. They had no more luck getting past Jaxi’s barrier than the bullets had.

  Can I attack them while you’re doing that? Trip asked silently as the flock of flying contraptions sailed out over the lagoon and toward their ship.

  Would they shoot at him? Or try to get to Leftie?

  You could do all manner of mental attacks, but you can’t shoot through my barrier. The bullets would bounce back at you.

  I don’t know how to do mental attacks.

  Did I say you should have come to the capital months ago? I meant years ago.

  Shots came from behind Trip, and he jumped. Leftie was charging across the deck, firing past Trip and at the men firing at him. A couple of his bullets glanced off the edge of Jaxi’s bubble, but others made it past.

  One thudded into a toll collector’s shoulder. He clutched at the wound and stumbled back, losing his footing and pitching off the gangplank. The other three dropped to a knee, shifting their aim to Leftie.

  “Get back!” Trip yelled at him. “Enemies incoming on multiple fronts.”

  He flung an arm to indicate the contraptions zipping toward them. Bronze and copper with small flywheels in addition to their wings, they looked like something from a toymaker’s shop, but Trip could now see twin gun barrels thrusting out to either side of the gleaming metal noses. He could also sense the magic Jaxi had spoken of, and he was certain they were capable of firing of their own accord.

  Instead of getting back, Leftie threw himself into a roll as the men fired at him. He ran toward one of the tarp-covered fliers.

  Trip groaned—he didn’t want Leftie shot up, but he didn’t want their fliers shot up, either.

  With few other options, Trip surged down the gangplank. He had to put a stop to this.

  Let me attack, Jaxi, he ordered, knowing he took the risk of being shot as he did so.

  I’ll handle them. Jaxi heated in his grip, and a ball of fire appeared in the air, forcing Trip to halt. You handle the metal gizmos. You’re the mechanic.

  I’m an engineer, thank you.

  You build tables; don’t glorify yourself.

  I also fixed all the broken equipment in the airship.

  Which you may be required to do again soon.

  The ball of fire grew, blocking Trip’s view of the men and threatening to singe off his eyebrows. But he heard and sensed them flinging themselves off the gangplank and into the water below.

  It was only a short reprieve. The contraptions continued without anyone’s guidance. They’d reached the ship, and they strafed the deck the same way Trip strafed pirate airships. Bullets slammed into the wood boards, and two of the machines angled toward Leftie’s hiding spot.

  Leftie leaned out and fired at one. His bullet struck it but clanged off without doing noticeable damage. The machine arrowed straight toward him.

  Trip sprinted to intercept it, hoping the men who’d jumped off the gangplank wouldn’t swim back to shore and race out again.

  They probably will, Jaxi said. They have reinforcements coming. I’m going to try to deter them and make sure Kaika and the others can get through the growing crowd.

  “I had no idea avoiding docking fees was such a crime,” Trip growled, running and jumping to reach the construct angling for Leftie’s hiding spot.

  He slammed the soulblade into it before it could reach Leftie. Jaxi was still flaring gold. He had no idea if that added magic to her blade, but was relieved when it cut into the flying gizmo. His strong blow cut it in half, and the pieces crumpled to the deck.

  Unfortunately, the five others turned their focus on Trip. They clinked and clanked as their parts whirred, and those barrels rotated unerringly toward his chest.

  Despite Jaxi telling him he had to handle them while she handled the reinforcements, he could feel her power flowing into his limbs, guiding him with moves that should have been impossible for a sword-fighting neophyte. Or any mundane human being.

  Somehow, he sensed the bullets’ trajectories—they seemed to slow down so he could see them—and he whipped the blade in front of him as he ran, deflecting them. A couple of times, Jaxi cleaved bullets in half, the remains clinking to the deck.

  He advanced as he defended and sprang for another contraption.

  This one saw him coming and whipped to the side, as if it were a sentient animal rather than a machine. But with Jaxi guiding his arms, he reacted instantly, the soulblade darting to follow it. He clipped it, slicing off part of a wing. It wobbled, still trying to target and shoot him as it lost altitude. Like a logger, he brought Jaxi down to cleave it in half.

  But its bullet fired, and from that close, he didn’t have time to dodge or deflect it. It sliced through his side, burning like fire. He gasped, almost dropping Jaxi.

  Don’t you dare. A sorcerer is supposed to die with his soulblade in hand.

  Shouts came from the waterfront, along with the firing of more guns. Trip worried that the women would need help, but with four more contraptions harrying him, he couldn’t look in their direction.

  The machines surrounded him, not worrying if they hit each other with their bullets, not when those bullets simply clanged off their metal hides.

  Again letting Jaxi guide him, Trip whirled and blocked, his arms and legs whipping about with impossible speed as he deflected their relentless attacks. He tried to back away from the clump so they would all be in front of him, so he wasn’t too busy deflecting bullets from all sides to attack. But the damn metallic creatures moved with him, cutting him off.

  Leftie yelled curses from the side and fired at one of them, but his bullets also clanged uselessly off. Trip lunged and slashed at one as it whirred backward. He sliced the muzzle off one of its guns. Unfortunately, that didn’t affect its flight—or stop it from firing.

  While he was distracted with his attack, one fired at him from behind. Sensing it, he sprang to the side, but the bullet grazed his arm.

  Trip gritted his teeth at the pain, abruptly realizing he could die from these awful devices. He whipped Jaxi about, deflecting more bullets, but his breath was growing labored from the demanding moves, and he worried he couldn’t keep it up much longer.

  Frustration buil
t within him as he once again failed in a sword attack. He roared, imagining Jaxi summoning some power to incinerate them, and flung out his hand as if he could will it to happen.

  To his surprise, a huge wall of flame rose all around him. Heat poured off it, but Jaxi flared, creating a barrier again to protect him.

  Leftie yelled and cursed, his voice sounding closer than Trip had expected.

  With a lurch of fear, Trip yelled, “Jaxi, make it stop. Please.”

  The flames disappeared. Leftie lay on his back a few meters away, his rifle on the deck next to him, one arm raised to protect his face. His eyes bulged round, filled with terror. But he did not appear to be injured. He must have been running closer to the fray when the fire appeared. Maybe he’d thought to club the damn contraptions.

  Trip lowered the soulblade and looked around, wondering where they had all gone.

  Look down, hero.

  Four molten lumps smoked on the charred deck around Trip.

  You’re amazing, Jaxi. They weren’t quite incinerated, but this would do just fine.

  I am amazing, but I didn’t do that. You did. I was busy helping Kaika and the others get past all the pirates impeding them.

  I… did? That’s not possible.

  Those four molten lumps suggest otherwise.

  Trip let the soulblade droop. She couldn’t be serious. How could he have created fire with his mind?

  The notion stunned him, but he also felt strange. Tingly all over, as if power ran through his veins right now.

  Footsteps pounded on the gangplank, and Trip turned, lifting the soulblade once more. His breathing was heavy, but he would attack again if he needed to.

  But these weren’t enemies running onto the ship. The three women, with Rysha in the lead, raced off the gangplank. Their eyes met, hers wide with an expression he couldn’t read. Surprise? Horror? Awe? How much had she seen?

  A part of him was already groping for an excuse, a story to explain how Jaxi had been responsible for all that, but another part of him lifted his chin and thought that he’d like it if she knew he was a strong warrior, even without Jaxi guiding him.

  Please, if not for me, you’d have more holes in you than bubble cheese.

  You can’t give me a couple of minutes of self-absorbed delusion before smothering me with reality?

  I wouldn’t want you to become overly full of yourself. Nothing good comes from sorcerers turning into arrogant asses.

  Sorcerer, that was an overstatement. It’s good that you’re along to keep me grounded.

  Indeed so. Also, those bullet wounds you suffered may help with that.

  Trip touched his side as the women approached. He’d almost forgotten about them, but as he brushed the gouge down there, pain flared anew. Blood dripped from his fingers.

  “Trip,” Rysha said. “You’re hurt. Let’s get—

  “The hells out of here,” Blazer growled, racing to the wheelhouse. “Leftie, Trip, cut the ropes. You can nurse your owies later. We’ve got more trouble coming.”

  “Owies, Major?” Leftie rolled to his feet, stiffly but with determination. “Could we call them something more manly, please?”

  Blazer slammed open the wheelhouse door and charged in without answering.

  Another gun fired. Kaika’s. She knelt behind the railing at the top of the gangplank, shooting at men who were crouching behind pilings and crates on the dock, shooting right back.

  A bullet whizzed past Trip’s head.

  Ducking low, he ran to the ropes securing them to the dock. His side burned, as did the fresh gouge in his forearm, but he kept Jaxi in hand as he raced to cut them. Because she was useful in that chore and also because she’d forbade him to drop her.

  Glad you were listening, she told him. Oh, how tedious.

  What? Trip hacked at one of the thick docking ropes, not wanting to jump down where he would be more visible—and an easier target—to untie it.

  There are cannons on the waterfront, and someone is preparing them.

  All this because we didn’t pay a toll? Trip ran toward Leftie to help him. He was also cutting away a rope, but using a simple knife instead of a soulblade, and it wasn’t going quickly.

  I believe the fireballs may have increased their ire toward us. Sorcerers aren’t loved in most of the world, you know.

  Tell me about it. Trip was surprised the pirates allowed one on their island at all, even one who protected them.

  “One more rope,” Leftie said, running across the deck with his head low.

  Trip followed him as Kaika continued to fire from the gangplank. The engines thrummed below the deck, and gas hissed into the envelope above their heads.

  “How did things devolve so quickly after I went belowdecks to get money?” Leftie started to hack at the rope, realized Jaxi could slice through it in a second, and let Trip handle it.

  “I’m not sure. I think the situation started out devolved.”

  “I guess it’s a good thing your new sword friend makes infernos.” Leftie’s lips twisted. “Though a little warning would have been nice. I almost got my front half incinerated. I’m real partial to some of the parts on my front half.”

  “I suppose you’d have trouble charming the ladies with just the back half.”

  “It would certainly be more of a challenge. Though I have been told I have a nice ass. Nice to look at. Nice to squeeze.”

  Maybe I should smother his self-absorbed delusions too, Jaxi told Trip.

  You don’t agree about the niceness of his backside?

  I’m certainly not tempted to squeeze it.

  He patted the flat of the soulblade. How would that work if you were?

  Don’t underestimate the power of magic.

  Not just for creating infernos, eh?

  Not in the least. Though fire is my specialty. I approve of your methods back there, even if you scorched the deck and almost set the balloon on fire.

  With the ropes cut, the airship lifted free from the dock. Bullets continued to fire, but Trip flopped down on the deck, his back to the railing, and felt some relief. Until a thunderous boom came from the waterfront.

  The cannons Jaxi had mentioned?

  Something slammed into the envelope at the rear of the ship, and Trip jumped to his feet again.

  “What now?” Leftie groaned.

  Actually, those aren’t quite cannonballs. One moment. The soulblade's hilt grew warm again.

  As more booms came from the waterfront, Trip ran toward the opposite side so he could see the threat. He was in time to see three fiery projectiles speeding toward the airship, toward the envelope.

  “Damn it,” Kaika growled, shooting toward the waterfront. “I should have brought a sniper rifle. There’s not enough range or accuracy with this old girl.”

  One of the blazing cannonballs, or whatever they were, blew up before reaching the envelope. The second two struck an invisible barrier. Jaxi’s work, Trip presumed.

  You presume correctly, but it’s difficult to create one large enough to protect the entire airship. I— Three more blazing cannonballs fired, and she fell silent. Busy concentrating?

  Once again, one was destroyed in the air halfway to them. Another bounced off her barrier, but the third sailed through the envelope at the far front. Jaxi cursed.

  Trip thought the airship would make it out of the lagoon—he’d seen balloons perforated by far more than a few cannonballs continue to hold enough gas to fly for hundreds of miles—but that projectile had left flames behind after sailing through. Flames that were spreading quickly. Were those cannonballs coated in pitch or something else that was highly flammable?

  He realized that the first cannonball had gotten through, too, before Jaxi had started defending against them. Flames burned heartily around that hole in the front, creeping up the side of the balloon.

  “Someone’s going to have to put those fires out,” Blazer yelled, leaning out of the wheelhouse.

  Trip would climb up there with wet blank
ets if he had to, but he questioned Jaxi first, on the chance she could simply magic them out. Can you do anything?

  An explosion came from the waterfront, far noisier than the booms from cannons firing. Trip peered over the railing in time to see flames leaping from the spot where one of the cannons was—had been.

  Trust me, Jaxi said. I am doing things.

  Another cannon blew up.

  So I see.

  Trip spotted Rysha climbing a ladder attached to one of the ship’s support posts, and he raced over. If she could reach the fire, he could get a hose and feed it up to her. He had made sure the ship’s water tanks were full before they’d left the fjords.

  But she paused at the top of the ladder. “I can just see smoke from here. The fire’s on the top half. I don’t think there’s any way to reach it unless someone can climb up the balloon’s framework.”

  “I’ve got a better idea,” Leftie yelled from the other side of the deck where he was tearing the tarps off the fliers. “We get some buckets and fly up there to dump them.”

  “I don’t think that’s going to work,” Trip said, sensing how far the flames had spread by now, as if the massive black plumes of smoke flowing from the envelope wouldn’t have told him.

  “We’re losing altitude,” Blazer yelled.

  A final explosion sounded, the last of the cannons on the waterfront blowing up. Trip was glad Jaxi enjoyed blowing things up and was good at it, but he feared it had happened too late to help them.

  16

  “This airship seems destined to crash,” Blazer growled, turning the wheel to follow the shoreline away from the lagoon.

  Rysha caught the words as she ran into the wheelhouse. “I don’t think there’s any way to put out the fire, ma’am. I looked. The men were talking about going up in their fliers with buckets of water, but—”

  “Buckets?” Blazer scowled over her shoulder at her. “They might as well try to piss the fire out.”

  “Er, yes, ma’am. I don’t have to do any calculations to know it’s spread too far. It would take a fire suppressant more powerful than water to help in such limited amounts.”

 

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