Starfall

by Jamie Sedgwick

  “It’s all over but the fighting now,” he said.

  Breeze rose to her feet and leapt off the wagon. She started down the hill, back towards the encampment, her skirts swishing as the heels of her boots dug into the hard soil. Tinker stared after her for a moment and then shouted, “Where are you going?”

  “I can’t watch this. I’m going to find a plane!”

  Chapter 27

  Back on Rowena’s airship , the crew heard the sounds of battle long before they could see the fighting. They rushed to the bow, leaning against the rails as they strained for a better look. The spyglasses came out and went from hand to hand as they took turns gazing to the north over the bleak and desolate Badlands. The curvature of the earth and rising and falling of the landscape blocked out their view, but the unmistakable booming of cannon fire rolled across the sky like thunder. Rowena ordered her men to load the ship’s guns and cannons, and to prepare for battle.

  An hour passed before they caught sight of the black silhouette of a Legion airship hovering over the horizon. To their right, snow-capped mountains rose steep and impassible to any but flying vehicles, and then fell into desert at the border of Kantraya. By then, Micah had woken River from her nap to join the others on deck.

  “We’ll swing to the north over the mountains,” Rowena told them. “In an hour or two, I’ll set down behind friendly lines. After I unload our supplies, you can either stay at the alliance camp or ride with me back to New Boston.”

  “What about Sanctuary?” said Morgane. “Can you take us there?”

  Rowena looked her up and down. “Perhaps. I’d be more inclined if I thought their might be a profit in it, or at least some fuel.”

  Morgane and Micah exchanged a glance, but said nothing. Rowena turned back to her crew and started barking orders.

  The Skyhart’s change in course soon presented a new challenge: the shifting winds coming out of the north put an enormous strain on the vessel’s sails and engines, and it cut their speed in half. Soon, they were tacking back and forth into the icy currents, the props churning at full speed, the steam engine revved up to full power. The entire hull shook with the vibrations and swayed from side to side as the wind buffeted the broadsides. Those working above deck had to secure safety lines around their belts. Everyone else went below, forced to wait out the journey in the relative safety of the lower decks. They tried to steal glimpses of the battle through the cannon ports and gun slats, or in the windows in the galley, but what River saw did not encourage her.

  The Legion seemed to have an overwhelming force. While it was impossible to count their numbers, or to even see the entire army from her vantage, it looked like the ghouls outnumbered their enemies by ten to one. As if this weren’t enough of an advantage, the Legion had airships, tanks, and at least a dozen giants, the size of which River had never seen or imagined. At eight or nine feet in height, the Vangars had seemed like giants in her youth. Some Kanters stood as high as twenty feet. The giants she saw on the battlefield stood thirty feet tall or more, and carried swords and maces that could wipe out a dozen men in a single swipe.

  To make matters worse, the Legion’s handful of gyros were sweeping across the battlefield, dropping bombs seemingly at random. It didn’t matter to the ghouls if they killed a few of their own; they were easily replaced. When River saw the bombs decimating the helpless troops below, she could no longer sit idly by. She went to the armory, helped herself to a long-range rifle and ammo bag, and headed topside.

  An ice-cold wind hit her face as River stepped onto the deck. She caught her breath, shocked by the cold. She immediately wished she’d thought to grab a cloak, or a coat. It didn’t matter, she decided. Humans were dying on the ground. She could suffer a little cold.

  “What do you think you’re doing?”

  River turned to see Rowena staring down at her from the upper deck with her hands on her hips. The captain had to shout to be heard over the noise of the engines and the wind. River shouted back, “I’m taking out those gyros.”

  Rowena scanned the skies to the southwest. “Impossible,” she said. “Nobody could make a shot from that distance.”

  “Watch me.”

  River went to the portside and moved forward along the rail until she found the clearest line of sight. She loaded a powder charge into the rifle, and then instead of loading a slug, she rammed in a second charge.

  “That’s dangerous,” Rowena said, appearing next to her. “That rifle’s going to explode.”

  “I’ll take that risk. It’s the only way to make a shot at that range.” Rowena frowned, but didn’t argue. She took a few steps back, indicating that she might allow River to take such a risk to herself, but felt no compulsion to let River kill them both.

  After jamming a slug down the barrel, River rested the weapon over the rail, flipped up the rear sight, and sighted down the length of the barrel. Already, she was shivering and her hands were shaking with cold. Rowena saw this and ordered her first mate to throw down his cloak. Rowena caught it, and draped it over River’s shoulders.

  “Thanks,” River mumbled, still gazing down the sights.

  “The wind’s fifty knots from the northwest,” Rowena said. “I’d say the gusts are closer to seventy.” River nodded. She moved the gun, following the movement of the nearest gyro. It buzzed the battlefield and vanished in the shadows of the valley. A moment later, it zoomed back into the air. River twisted the rifle, trying to bring the vehicle back into her sights.

  “It’s no good,” Rowena said. “It’s like trying to shoot a spearfly at a thousand yards.”

  “Do you think we could slow down a little?” River said. “Just for a minute or two, to smooth the ride?”

  Rowena gestured at the first mate. He shouted an order into the communication pipe. The engine went silent. Suddenly, all they could hear was the rush of the wind and the periodic booming noises and cracks of gunfire in the distance.

  River watched the gyros moving to and fro, rising and falling over the field. One of the machines finished its mission and headed more or less in a straight southward course toward one of the airships. River adjusted the barrel, following him with her sights. The Skyhart rose and fell with the wind, tilting portside and then to the stern, the movement constant but still unpredictable.

  River made continuous adjustments. The barrel of her rifle remained almost perfectly level despite the movement of the ship. In her mind, she calculated the distance, the wind, and a thousand other things. River knew from experience that with an average load, a rifle slug would drop ten inches per every one hundred yards. Rowena’s powder charges were more powerful than average, and River had used two. Assuming the gun didn’t explode, she expected about twice the range and speed. That would get it to the target. The problem was hitting it.

  River added all this up intuitively, using her experience to guide her. She knew the speed of the wind would create a drag and sideways pressure on the projectile. She knew the pull of gravity would affect the arc of its flight. If she aimed directly at her target, the shot would be several yards low and at least that many behind him. The gyro’s rate of speed entered into this calculation, also. River would have to aim high and well ahead of the target...

  At some point, she stopped breathing. She wasn’t even aware of it; wasn’t aware of anything except the line of the sights and the movement of the target, the ship, and the wind. All of these things had to work together at just the right moment, to come into perfect symmetry. She waited, zeroing in with all her focus, her instincts taking over to make constant tiny adjustments.

  At last, River squeezed the trigger. Fire blasted out of the muzzle. The kick of the rifle against her shoulder was almost enough to knock her down. River twisted, absorbing the impact. Her eyes remained fixed on the target, unblinking. The icy cold wind made tears flow down her face, but she didn’t notice.

  A second passed. Then another, and another.

  River didn’t see or hear any indication that
she had made her shot. With a snarl, she straightened and turned away. “Wait!” Rowena said, catching her by the shoulder. River spun, and she saw a gush of steam trailing out behind the gyro.

  Her eyes went wide. It was remarkable that she’d hit the target from that distance at all, but to strike the machine’s boiler? Luck was on her side! The pilot lost control, and the gyro spiraled in for a rough landing at the southern end of the battlefield. All around her, cheers went up from the crew. River turned, astonished. She blinked the tears from her eyes and saw that the entire crew had returned to the deck to watch her.

  “Well done,” Rowena said. “Do you think you can do it again?”

  River glanced at the rifle in her hands. “Not with this,” she said. She held it up, displaying a series of hairline fractures at the rear of the barrel. “It’ll have to be destroyed.”

  “You’re lucky you didn’t get killed,” Rowena said. She took the rifle and handed it to the nearest crewman. “Have this melted down.”

  As he disappeared below deck, they heard a kaboom to the south, followed by a loud whistling sound. All eyes turned to see a flaming cannonball go whizzing by. It passed thirty yards beneath their feet. In the distance, they saw one of the Legion’s black airships bearing down on the Skyhart. Rowena shot River a glare.

  “Well, you’ve got their attention now. Men!” she bellowed at the top of her lungs, “Battle stations!”

  The flurry of activity that followed was a blur. It remained so in the memories of the surviving crewmembers for many years, until at last it was relegated to a series of tall tales spun by old warriors at holiday feasts and around campfires late into the night. Even River could hardly get a handle on what was going on.

  Rowena shouted orders. Sails went up, others came down. The engine roared to life and the props responded with a resonating hum that shook the entire airship. They turned to face the headwind, plowing into it with a fury. The Legion airship closed in on them and Rowena ordered the Skyhart into a sleep climb. The wind shear became wild and unpredictable. The sky grew dark, and a heavy snow began to fall.

  The black ship, though larger than the Skyhart, could not match her speed. The ghoul vessel struggled to make the climb as the Skyhart shot up the mountains and into the sky. A distressed engineer screamed through the communication pipes that the engine was about to blow, and Rowena ordered another change of course. They made a hard turn to starboard. The sudden shift brought the wind to sail. In what seemed like seconds, they had come about and were bearing down on the enemy ship.

  The Skyhart now had the advantage of both speed and altitude. The distance closed in seconds. The ghouls scrambled for their rifles, but Rowena ordered her crew to stand down.

  “Tie off!” she bellowed. “Tie off, or get below decks!”

  River, Micah, and Morgane followed the others down the stairwell. Those crewmen who remained topside lashed themselves down with ropes and prepared for what was coming. River and the others had no idea what to expect, so they hurried to the starboard side to peek out through the gun ports.

  As they passed over the Legion ship, Rowena ordered another hard turn to starboard. The combination of the swift turn and the roaring winds tilted the entire ship sideways. Inside, crewmembers and passengers hung on for dear life. At the same time, the gunners to the portside gained a clear view of the Legion’s upper deck.

  “Open Fire!” Rowena screamed. “Fire, Fire!”

  There was a roar of cannon fire. The ghouls could do nothing but stare into the sky as the cannonballs rained down. The missiles passed through all three decks of the Legion ship and tore gaping holes in the bottom of her hull. Ghouls shrieked as they went tumbling through the sky. One cannonball disabled the Legion’s mainmast, and another struck the forge, scattering hot coals across the deck. In seconds, the ship was ablaze.

  The ghouls’ captain ordered the ship into a steep dive, but the flames were already burning the ropes that secured the ship to the balloon. They were still three thousand feet above the slope when the front lines gave way, and the bow of the ship let go.

  For a moment, the vessel hung suspended vertically at a precarious angle. The balloon shifted under the weight, and left the bow facing straight down. The broken mast gave way with a groan and took the others with it. The contents of the ship spilled out, including dozens of howling ghouls. The weight of the ship’s guns ripped open the bow, shredding the keel into splinters as they tore a gaping hole in the ship. The ghouls who had tied themselves to lines, or had managed to catch a handhold at some point in the disaster, could only swing in the freezing wind, helpless.

  Finally, the last of the ropes burned through. The crew of the Skyhart could only watch in horrified fascination as the vessel dropped like a spear into the mountainside. The broken hull crumbled with a sound of snapping wood and grinding metal. A boiler tank erupted, sending up a shower of water that instantly froze into a flurry of light snowflakes. The Legion airship vanished in a sheet of white. Above, the balloon howled into the sky with no weight to hold it down.

  The crew of the Skyhart erupted in a series of cheers. Micah, Morgane, and River emerged from the stairwell, wide-eyed and pale. Rowena saw their ghostly looks and burst out laughing.

  “It’s okay to breathe,” she said. “We’re still alive.”

  Micah hurried over to her. “That was absolutely brilliant! Where is my sketchpad? Morgane! Where is my satchel?” They hurried back downstairs, leaving River alone with the captain.

  “Well?” Rowena said, cocking an eyebrow.

  “I’m impressed. I had no idea an airship could do that.”

  “You should see what else she can do,” Rowena smiled proudly.

  “Show me.”

  The captain narrowed her eyebrows. “What do you mean, exactly?”

  “There’s another one. Let’s go get it.”

  The nearby crewmen went silent as Rowena considered her suggestion. “We had an advantage here,” she said thoughtfully. “The wind was at our back, the altitude in our favor. Next time, we might not be so lucky.”

  “Luck had nothing to do with it,” said River.

  Rowena grinned. “You’re right. Let’s do it again.”

  River kept a close eye on the battle as they approached. The actions playing out below did not look promising. The gyro’s bombing campaign and the Legion’s cannons had torn vast holes in the ally defenses. In the areas where they had broken through, the ghoul foot soldiers and charioteers were pouring through the lines and into friendly territory. It became clear to River that if something wasn’t done, the Legion would overwhelm the allies through sheer strength of numbers in a short time.

  The second airship was ten miles off, to the south of the battlefield. As that gap began to close, it became clear that this second vessel was not a gunship like the first. The Legion had outfitted the ship with a broad deck that served as a landing strip for the gyros. This, it seemed, was where they had been going to reload their bombs. This realization brought a wide smile to Rowena’s face. She walked to the center of the deck and shouted, “Load the cannons, boys!”

  It almost seemed that the captain of the black ship heard her, because within seconds it had changed direction and was starting to flee. Rowena ordered her men to fire anyway. Out of six or seven shots, they managed to knock a massive hole in the lower deck and took out the foresail. Rowena was deciding whether or not to pursue them further when the gyros started buzzing the Skyhart, throwing bombs in their direction.

  Rowena ordered the pilot to bring the ship into a rapid ascent. The gyros couldn’t compete with this rate of climb, and quickly found themselves out of reach. As the ship rose, Rowena’s men took advantage by firing rifles and muskets. They disabled a handful of gyroplanes, leading to several spectacular crashes. Those that remained limped back to their mother ship for repairs.

  River joined Rowena on the command deck. “We have to do something about those tanks,” she said. “The Legion is tearing apart the
ally defenses.”

  “Our cannons can’t shoot straight down,” Rowena said. “We can keep the skies clear, but I’m afraid the men on the ground are on their own.”

  Rowena ordered the pilot to bring her ship about. As they began making their way back towards the mountains, River and the others could do nothing but watch the allies’ inevitable defeat. The men and women on the ground fought bravely, facing off against an insurmountable enemy. The ghouls came at them in waves, pouring over the infantry, pounding their defenses. Everyone on the ship knew it was only a matter of time.

  A short while later, River heard a strange buzzing sound. She turned, scanning the skies, looking for a gyro. The ghoul pilots must have repaired their vehicles, she thought. Now, they were back. But when she picked out the black speck of movement gliding past the lines at the northern end of the battlefield, she was surprised to see a plane of some sort.

  “What the devils is that?” Rowena said, following her gaze.

  “It couldn’t be one of ours,” one of the crewmen said. “The senate grounded Astatia’s air fleet months ago.”

  “It’s too big to be a fighter,” River mumbled. “And way too slow.”

  To her surprise, the cargo door at the rear of the plane slid open and a man appeared. River couldn’t see him from that distance, but she saw the glint of metal on his arm and narrowed her eyebrows. “Is that a Vangar?”

  They watched in fascination as the plane whooshed over the field. The man in the cargo door tossed something out. Micah appeared next to River and leaned up against the rail, just barely peeking over the top. “Was that a bomb?”

  “Too small,” River said. But a fraction of a second later, they saw the fireball of a small explosion and saw one of the Legion’s tanks flip over on its side. “I think it was a cannon charge,” River said, her eyes wide.

  Another explosion hit a group of ghouls that were separated from the crowd, and sent body parts, bits of metal, and chunks of dirt flying through the air. River raced up the steps to the command deck. She snatched the pilot’s scope from the wheel housing and raced back to the port side.