Starfall

by Jamie Sedgwick

  “What is it?” Rowena said.

  River lowered the scope and gave her a perplexed look. “That plane... I think it’s my mother!”

  They watched in disbelief as the plane made several more passes. In a matter of minutes, it had disabled or destroyed half a dozen tanks, and had broken the enemy line at several points. Ghoul foot soldiers fired their muskets, but the plane swooped by and was gone again with such speed that they couldn’t train their sights before it was out of reach.

  Following the orders of one of their generals, two nearby tanks brought their barrels around to target the plane. They fired, missed, and fired again. The plane’s pilot saw the danger and took evasive action. The vehicle made a quick ascent and did a barrel roll into a turn. It zoomed across the field with impossible agility for a plane so slow and lumbering. The cannons kept firing, and somehow, the plane remained safe.

  It seemed to good to be true. It almost seemed that this one reckless pilot might change the course of the entire battle. Then, with a roar of cannon fire and the resounding crack of splitting framework, the effort came to an end. The plane’s tail section separated. It spiraled into the ground with a sickening crunch. Ghouls, humans, and Vangars scattered as the plane tore a swath through the center of the battlefield. It came to rest in a pile of rubble and a cloud of dust.

  River spun, eyes wide, chest rising and falling in a panic. “Put me down there,” she said to Rowena.

  The captain gave her an empathetic look and shook her head. “I’m sorry, I can’t. It would put my whole ship in danger.”

  In a flash, River had her revolver in hand. She raised it, leveling the sights at Rowena’s face, and released the safety with an ominous click! In a cool, serious voice she said, “Put me down now, or I’ll do it myself.”

  Chapter 28

  “B reeze?” Tinker’s voice was raspy and oddly compressed in the cloud of dust around the crash site. “Breeze!”

  He broke off in a fit of coughing. The sounds of battle surrounded him: gunfire, the kaboom of a cannon, the ringing sound of steel on steel. He turned, surveying the wreckage, ears straining for her voice. The remains of the plane lay strewn across a fifty-foot span, possibly more, but most of it was invisible in the haze.

  “Breeze!”

  “Here, Tinker,” she said. “Over here.” Her voice was weak, and it sent icy chills racing down his spine. Tinker followed the sound to the front section of the fuselage. To his horror, he found Breeze trapped underneath it.

  “I’m here,” he said, racing over.

  “Tinker, It’s hard to breathe...” Her voice was like a whimper. The helpless sound brought memories flooding back to him. He was reminded of the little girl who had come to his valley so many years ago, so helpless and alone, so afraid. Of course, she hadn’t been that little; not nearly as tiny and helpless as it had at first seemed. She had been a girl on the verge of womanhood, a fast-growing Tal’mar with powers that neither of them had even begun to suspect at the time. Had she ever been this helpless?

  “Hang on,” Tinker said. “I’ve already lost you once, I’m not about to lose you again.”

  He bent over, grasping the framework with his mechanically enhanced left hand. The force was like a vice, and the wood creaked in his crushing grip. Tinker’s mechanical reinforcements went to work, gears clicking and whirring as the power of high-carbon springs lifted the broken fuselage. Four hundred pounds of wood and twisted metal came off the ground with the ease of a child’s toy.

  There she was, half buried in dirt and rubble, goggles pushed up around her forehead, dirt-stains smearing her face. She grinned up at him. Tinker frowned. “What are you grinning at?”

  “They were probably right, not letting us fight.”

  Tinker made a grunting sound. “Stealing a mail plane to take into battle wasn’t the best idea.”

  “It was glorious though, wasn’t it?” She stared dreamily up at him. “Just for a few minutes...”

  Tinker cleared the rest of the wreckage away and lifted her off the ground. Breeze winced and made a moaning sound.

  “Are you all right?”

  “I think my leg is broken.”

  “Can you heal it?”

  “Maybe. I need some time-”

  A ghoul appeared behind Tinker. Breeze tried to shout a warning, but couldn’t get a word out in time. The monster struck Tinker from behind, driving the tip of its spear through his left shoulder. Tinker let out a gasp, and Breeze heard the grating sound of steel on steel as it tore through his mechanical attachments. The tip of the spear protruded through the flesh, shredding his jacket as it erupted.

  Tinker’s left arm went limp. He dropped to his knees, trying to lower Breeze to the ground without harming her. Her feet hit the ground first, and a cry escaped her lips as jolts of pain shot through her body. Spots swam before her eyes. She was only vaguely aware of Tinker extracting himself from beneath her, turning to face his attacker.

  The spear was lodged in Tinker’s shoulder. The ghoul tried to pull it free, but the creature lost its grip as he turned. Tinker stretched with his good arm, but found the weapon out of reach. The ghoul smiled. It drew a dagger and came at him. Tinker took a swing, but the ghoul easily dodged the attack.

  I’m too old, Tinker realized. All this machinery won’t help us now...

  The ghoul came in, stabbing low with the dagger. He aimed for Tinker’s gut, but the engineer twisted just in time. The dagger pierced the front of his jacket. The ghoul twisted his arm, struggling to free the weapon. In a flash, Tinker closed his good hand around the ghoul’s wrist. If nothing else, he could at least, take the weapon out of the equation.

  For a moment, the two were nearly frozen in struggle. The ghoul twisted and tugged. Tinker hung on for all he was worth. Suddenly, the ghoul’s eyes went wide. The creature shot a horrified look down at its feet, and then released its grip on the knife. It turned and ran. Confused, Tinker glanced down and saw Breeze’s open hand.

  “What happened? Did you do something?”

  “I’m not sure. Ghouls don’t work quite the way humans do.”

  Tinker’s eyebrows shot up. “You used your healing skills on him?”

  “Not healing,” she grinned. “Un-healing.”

  “Oh... I didn’t know you could do that.”

  “It was worth a try.”

  Tinker bent close, looking her over. “My arm’s broken. How am I going to get you out of here?”

  “I think I can limp, if I can lean on you.”

  Tinker shifted around, trying to get situated to help her up. It took a while. Tinker’s left arm was not just useless, it was now a weight, slowing him down. He hauled Breeze up to her feet with his right, and managed to get her situated with an arm draped over his shoulder. It was in this manner that they finally emerged from the wreck.

  Most of the dust had cleared by then, but thick clouds of smoke and steam drifted across the battlefield. To the north, they caught glimpses of allied foot soldiers pounding through the ghoul front. Cannons lined the foot of the hill beneath the camp, firing at the tanks approaching from the south.

  They stood at the edge of the plane’s carcass for a moment, surveying the battle. When the area cleared enough to make their escape, they started hobbling to the north. The moment they rounded the plane, something big stepped in front of them.

  Tinker froze, craning his neck back. Before them stood a ghoul twenty feet tall. Superficially, it was a man. It had once been a Kanter, one of the tattooed giants from the desert lands south of Astatia. Now, it was a ghoul with a rib cage and spine of plated brass, and iron trusses strengthening its arms and legs. The creature brandished a double-headed battle-axe in its hands with a shaft nearly ten feet long.

  “Tinker,” Breeze said in a whisper.

  Tinker licked his lips. “I’m thinking...”

  “Mashaego kannuti!” the creature said with an iron-toothed grin. Tinker didn’t know the language, but the meaning seemed clear enough: Pr
epare to die!

  Deep, guttural laughter rumbled out of the ghoul’s chest. It closed in on them, and the pair stumbled back, moving deeper into the wreckage. They heard sounds of cracking leather and grinding gears as the monster raised the axe.

  From out of nowhere, something struck the creature. Not something, but someone. The impact of the blow knocked the Kanter ghoul a few steps sideways. A tall broad-shouldered man with long blond hair planted his feet where the ghoul had been standing. The ground made cracking sounds under the warrior’s heavy boots, and clouds of dust rose around him. His long black cloak shifted in the breeze, and his leather armor creaked as he lowered his stance. The warrior raised a battle-hammer.

  Tinker and Breeze exchanged a surprised glance. “Vangar?” they said in unison.

  The ghoul snarled and leapt forward. The axe came down in a broad stroke that could have cleaved through six ordinary men. The Vangar, though less than half the size of the giant, parried the blow with his battle hammer. As the swing went wide, the momentum caught the overconfident ghoul by surprise. It stumbled forward, and the Vangar brought up the head of his hammer, smashing the creature’s jaw.

  There was a sound of snapping bone, and the ghoul stumbled back in a daze. The Vangar pressed the attack, driving the hammer into the ghoul’s midsection. Around them, the battle closed in. Tinker and Breeze suddenly found themselves surrounded. The Vangar warrior threw a glance at them over his shoulder. “Go!” he bellowed. “Make for the line!”

  Tinker and Breeze stumbled a few yards in that direction, and promptly came face to face with another ghoul. The creature had a brass exoskeleton and plating on its skull. It snarled like a wild animal as it saw them. The ghoul raised a spiked club over its head and brought the weapon down in a crushing blow. The couple stumbled back, flinching away from the attack. Crack! the side of the ghoul’s skull vaporized. It dropped to its knees, fell sideways into the dirt, and lay motionless.

  Tinker followed the familiar sound of the shot, and saw the wooden hull of the Skyhart descending from above. He noticed a woman dangling from a rope ladder alongside. She had a pistol in her hand, the other arm looped through the strands of the ladder for support. She wore a Vangar slave collar on her throat, and platinum blonde strands of hair whipped across her face in the wind. He grinned. There was no mistaking her: it was definitely River. She stared at him with her eyes wide, jaw hanging open in disbelief.

  “River!” he called, taking a few steps closer. His voice rattled, and not just from the dust.

  “Tinker?” she said in a quiet, disbelieving voice. The wind whipped the sound away before it reached his ears, but even from that distance, Tinker could see the tears brimming her eyes.

  The ghouls fell back as the men on Rowena’s ship fired down at them. Tinker and Breeze limped away from the wreckage, dust swirling around them as the airship dropped closer to the ground. As the Skyhart reached ground level, a loading hatch opened up and several sailors jumped out to help them aboard. They scrambled inside. Even before the hatch was closed, Rowena gave the command to lift off.

  Tinker lowered Breeze onto a crate where she could lean back against the hull. “She needs water,” he said rising up. “And food-”

  He turned to find River standing there, inches away. She gazed up into his face, eyebrows knotted, a look of disbelief shaping her features. Her lips parted as if to say something, but no words came. For a moment, they just stared at one another in silence.

  “It’s me,” Tinker said at last.

  River blinked, and tears spilled over her cheeks, streaking through the dirt stains. “How?”

  “Your friends in Avenston,” Breeze said behind him. “Hatch and Shel... They saved him.”

  “Them, and the ocean,” Tinker said with a twinkle in his eye. “When the Vangars broke down the door, the blast from the bomb threw me across the beach, right over the pier. I would’ve drowned, if our friends hadn’t saved me. Of course, I was still at death’s door until Analyn brought Breeze to me.”

  River touched the side of his face, her finger sliding across the metal framework and then across the stubble on his scarred chin. Tinker smiled, and River shook her head, still finding it hard to believe. She looked around him at her mother. “You did this... machine work?”

  “I helped,” Breeze said. “There was a Tal’mar healer in Avenston -a Vangar slave who had been freed after the war.”

  River’s thoughts flashed back to her excruciating time aboard the Vangar flying city with Mayor Rutherford. The Overseer had spent days torturing her, beating her within an inch of death, only to have a Tal’mar healer revive her so the beatings could resume. Nightmares of that time still haunted her. Her hand went to the slave collar, fingers gliding over the smooth iron loop.

  “It’s all over now,” Tinker said, taking her hand in his. “I’m alive, and we are all together again.”

  There was something reassuring about his voice, and River suddenly found herself in his arms, her face pressed up against his chest. The pain of his loss came back to her all over again, the fear and rage she’d felt on that hopeless day.

  “I’m so glad we found you,” Breeze said. “We’ve been worried. We heard stories about the Iron Horse, but we had no way to contact you.”

  Rowena shouted something overhead. The command was relayed, and the crew men below deck rushed to the cannons. River pulled away from Tinker. She straightened, and wiped the tears from her cheeks. “It’s not over,” she said. “We have to finish the fight.”

  “Go ahead,” Breeze said. “We’ll be fine here.”

  Tinker shot a glance at his limp left arm. “Sorry, I’d help, but-”

  “No,” River said. “Look after mother. I’ll check on you soon.” She gave him another quick hug and then headed for the main deck. She emerged from the stairwell to find Rowena standing there with a huge grin on her face.

  “Perfect timing,” the captain said.

  River gave her a perplexed look. “What are you talking about?”

  Rowena nodded in the direction of the portside of the ship. They hurried over. Below, marching in to the battlefield from the east, they saw an army. The knights at the head of the army rode on mechanical warhorses. They carried lances and shields, and weapons strapped to their saddles. The light glinted on their brightly colored armor, and the ground seemed to shake with the rumbling tanks behind them. The footmen marching beside them carried the banners of Stormwatch and Dragonwall. Someone in the army’s ranks sounded a battle horn, and the sound of another followed. The knights closed their visors, lowered their lances, and went charging into the fray.

  “I don’t believe it,” River said.

  “Do you know these people?” said Rowena.

  “Those are the knights of Dragonwall. Kale is one of them-”

  “Kale!”

  “A lot has happened in the last few months.”

  They fell silent as the knights swept into the battle. They drove their lances through the ghouls, ripping their bodies apart, hurling the broken limbs and armor through the air. The tanks turned to focus their guns on the Legion’s war machines, and the footmen came roaring in to join the fight.

  In a matter of minutes, the tide of battle seemed to change. The ghouls suddenly found themselves distracted by this flank attack, and their charge into allied territory faltered. For the first time, River realized they might have a glimmer of hope.

  As they were watching, a Legion commander appeared on a chariot below the Skyhart, bearing down on the footmen. He was tall, more than nine feet in height, and the chariot he drove had been specially designed for his size. The other ghouls parted to make way, cheering their leader on as he swept into the onslaught.

  One of the knights realized what was happening, and moved to intercept the ghoul. As they came together, the knight leapt from his horse, tackling the Legion commander and bearing him over the side of the chariot. They vanished from sight for a few moments, and River was sure the knight had met
his end. To her shock, the man reappeared a moment later. He leapt onto the chariot and the vehicle took off, lurching into the chaos at full speed.

  The knight raised a massive broadsword and began sweeping the weapon through the air, decapitating ghouls left and right as they came within reach. There was an outcry. They fled from his path, but the knight led them right into the waiting spears and swords of his companions. The knights tore through the ghouls effortlessly, pausing just long enough to drive their weapons into the creatures’ skulls to make sure they were dead.

  “Incredible,” Rowena said. “Who was that knight?”

  “I’m not sure,” said River.

  “That’s Dane,” one of Rowena’s crewmen said.

  River gave a dismissive shake of her. “It can’t be. Dane is dead.”

  “Not that Dane,” said the crewman. “The new one. Queen Aileen remarried three days ago.”

  River felt an odd tightening sensation in her gut. She remembered Aileen having taken an interest in Kale, but before she could even form the thought, a voice next to her said, “It’s Kale. He married the queen.” River glanced down and realized that Micah had been standing beside her. She had no idea how long he’d been there.

  “Married? Kale, married?” Those were two words she had never thought would go together.

  “He’s changed,” the halfling said. “Dragonwall changed him.”

  Before she could respond, one of the crewmen at the aft end of the ship cried out, “Look at this!”

  They scurried up to the command deck, crowding in around the aft rail. To the north, they saw a surge of Tal’mar warriors. There were twelve hundred in total, though the number wasn’t clear at the time. The people aboard the Skyhart only saw a wave of fast-moving Tal’mar warriors descending onto the battlefield, fanning out in all directions. Many sought out the high ground. Some raced up onto neighboring hillsides, others climbed onto the ruins of destroyed tanks, or the carcasses of slain giants. They nocked their arrows all at once, as if following some inaudible command, and released their strings in perfect unison.