The cheer that went up from the stern of the ship overwhelmed any noise Ford made in complaint. He went to the end of the bowsprit and sighted in the distance.
There was something… a smudge… something in the clouds. It was moving rapidly toward them but Ford couldn’t make it out.
“What is it, Captain?” Reedis’ voice came from the end of the bowsprit.
Ford shook his head, “I’m not sure…”
“Lash it tight there, men!” Sykes called as the first six pounder reached the bow. “Tie her there on the port beam!” Sykes turned back to Captain Ford and grinned ear to ear. “They might not see us but you can be damned sure they’ll hear us, sir!”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Ford said, glancing toward Sykes and the frolicking gun crew. Even as he watched, the second six pounder was hauled up to starboard and quickly lashed to makeshift rigging.
Boom! The first gun roared. Ford could see the ball arcing forward and slowly falling to the ground.
A moment later the second gun roared out. The men began cheering loudly, hoping that their voices would carry over the harsh sound of the guns.
“You can’t say their heart isn’t in it, sir,” Knox said as he took position to Ford’s left and rear. “At least we’ll be going out in style.”
“Indeed,” Ford agreed glumly. “And if there’s anyone out there, they’ll soon hear from us.”
Chapter Four: Fountain of Air
“Are you certain?” Sybil said, when Krea Wymarc returned to human form. “A flying ship?”
“Yes,” Wymarc replied grimly. “That’s what killed Annora.”
“What is it doing here?” Hana asked, staring off toward the pass, in hopes of spotting it.
“It’s after me,” Krea said in a dull, dark voice.
“They tried to kill me once before,” Wymarc added in confirmation, “I imagine they are hoping to finish the job.”
“How did they kill Annora?” Hana asked with dread.
“They shot her with a cannon,” Krea said.
“They shot Jarin with the cannon,” Wymarc corrected. She closed Krea’s eyes in pain. “I couldn’t let them hurt him. He was so new, so lost…”
“So you pushed him aside,” Krea said, opening their eyes again, pushing warm thoughts toward her twin soul. “You saved his life.”
“And he found you,” Wymarc finished with an upwards lilt in her voice.
“If he hadn’t, I’d be dead,” Krea said.
“We would both be dead,” Wymarc said in fervent agreement.
“Who is Jarin?” Hana asked.
“Jarin is a dragon, new-found,” Sybil said. She glanced at Krea, looking to Wymarc. “Annora Wymarc were tasked by Ophidian to help him grow and protect him from himself.”
“From himself?”
“Have you never done something silly?” Sybil said to the young girl. She gave Hana a thoughtful look and shook her head. “No, I suppose you never have.” She tried again, “Have you ever seen a boy doing something incredibly silly? Something they might die doing?”
Hana had no problem nodding her head vigorously.
“Jarin is like those boys,” Sybil said.
“Only a thief,” Krea said, “and a liar.”
“And a dragon,” Wymarc added, shaking her head. “He thought it would be fun to tease the airship but they fired on us and then Jarin got angry.” She frowned Krea’s face sadly. “He toyed with them until they got smart and then they shot toward him and the only thing I could think to do —”
“Was push him aside,” Sybil said, nodding. “Very much your manner, Wymarc.”
“He was just a child!” Wymarc wailed. “And because of him, Annora died.” Her tone changed as she added, “But he killed one of theirs, threw him off the top of one of their balloons. He plunged to his death not far from where I fell.”
“They have cannon?” Sybil said, glancing to Krea Wymarc for confirmation. She glanced back toward the castle that was her home. “With cannon, from the sky, they could destroy this place.”
Boom! The sound carried faintly in the chilly air.
“They’re too far away, we can’t even see them,” Hana said, frowning. “Why are they shooting at us?”
“They’re challenging us,” Wymarc declared.
“Can you take the ship by yourself, Wymarc?” Sybil asked.
Krea found her head shaking with Wymarc’s response.
Sybil glanced toward Hana. “The gods of air have blessed you, would you like to learn what that means?”
Hana’s eyes grew wide.
“What are you thinking?” Wymarc asked.
Sybil smiled at her. “Don’t get jealous.”
“What? Why?” Wymarc said crossly.
Sybil smiled at her and turned to Hana. “The gods of air have blessed you,” Sybil said to her. “Are you ready to use their gift?”
“What do I do?” Hana asked. Krea could tell she was nervous.
“You used your air magic earlier,” Krea reminded her.
“And drenched the whole bathroom!” Hana said.
“Good,” Sybil said, “that’s a good start!”
Hana and Krea exchanged looks.
“I want you to remember what you did but think it bigger and underneath you,” Sybil said. “I want you to think of a funnel of air lifting you upwards.”
“A funnel?”
“You’ll be in the center, and it will lift you up like a fountain,” Sybil explained.
“A fountain of air?” Krea said. Sybil turned to her. “Krea Wymarc, get aloft. Hana will join you.”
Krea smiled at her friend encouragingly.
“Your turn now, I think,” Wymarc told her. Krea nodded in agreement. She took a quick step forward, skipping, once, twice, and then she jumped —
— and flew upwards, crying with joy and excitement.
A funnel! Wymarc exclaimed tartly. Wings would do the job better.
If the funnel doesn’t work, we can suggest that, Krea thought in reply, imagining giant air wings attached to Hana’s shoulders and lifting her into the sky.
“Very well, Hana, go meet your friend,” Sybil called from the ground.
Watch this! Wymarc said, turning their wyvern form in a tight circle, nearly hovering over Sybil and Hana one hundred feet below.
“You’d best be careful, Wymarc,” Sybil called up to them. “This might be tricky.”
From below, Krea Wymarc saw Hana frown in thought and then a swirl of air rose around her. It grew wider, forming a great circle easily twenty feet in diameter and closed in, tighter and tighter on Hana. And then, with a cry of shock, Hana surged up into the air.
We may need to catch her, Krea warned Wymarc, readying the talons on her feet.
Hana’s eyes were wide with fright as she rose up toward Krea Wymarc and then she her head back and laughed.
“I can do it, I can do it!” Hana cried with joy. She saw Krea Wymarc and shifted her stance, moving one hand and causing a new funnel to grow from it, pushing her toward the wyvern. “Let me come to you!”
It’s at times like these when I regret not having a voice, Wymarc thought to Krea. Krea understood the other’s feelings but screeched in response to Hana’s words, flicking her wings in a beckoning motion.
And then Hana was floating beside them, resting on a pillar of swirling air.
“Come back down!” Sybil shouted from the ground. “Hana first, then you Krea Wymarc.”
Hana nodded and turned back toward Sybil. She turned green with horror as she looked down and suddenly Wymarc stooped, cupping her wings to her sides and diving towards the stricken girl, for Hana’s fear had stripped her of her magic and she tumbled uncontrollably to the ground.
Krea Wymarc caught her just a few feet from the ground and gently lo
wered her. A moment later, Krea turned back into her human form, grabbing at the sobbing Hana and muttering soothing words.
“You’re not hurt, just frightened,” Sybil said, joining them. She caught Hana’s eyes and said, “You did very well for your first flight.”
“But the airship is out there —” Wymarc objected. Another boom! punctuated her words. “— we have to do something now.”
“Perhaps we can go on our own,” Krea said.
“I can’t help you in the sky,” Sybil said regretfully. “Nor can my family for that is not our power.”
Krea stepped back from Hana and said soothingly, “It’s okay. We’ll be fine.”
Hana looked up and sniffed, shaking her head. “I’m sorry, I know I can do it but —”
“No worries,” Krea told her. She turned, skipped, jumped — and flew away in wyvern form.
#
We must be careful, Wymarc said as they flew higher and higher. We have to be smart if we’re to defeat this flying ship.
Krea said nothing. The people at the House of LIfe and Death had befriended her. If they needed her and Wymarc to protect them, she would do it.
It is not enough to have a brave heart, Wymarc corrected her testily. We are going to have to fight and no one has ever fought an airship before.
What about you and Jarin?
Fought successfully, Wymarc said.
First, let’s see what the ship is like, Krea thought.
They rose up level with the pass and Wymarc started them flying through. We must be careful here — a gust swept down from the nearest peak and suddenly flipped them on their side. Krea cried out in alarm but they straightened up again. The air currents through passes are treacherous and can be frightening, Wymarc finished sardonically.
Moments later they were through the pass and heading out over the great snowy plain below.
Boom! the airship’s gun roared out. A moment later, another boom! marked the firing of a second cannon.
Let’s climb above them, Krea said, adding her will to Wymarc’s to cause their wyvern form to climb higher and higher. Perhaps we can find a thermal, Krea suggested when all their effort seemed to only inch them further into the sky.
The higher we fly, the harder it is to climb, Wymarc told her. If we look for thermals, we can’t watch the airship.
Krea turned their head toward the airship which was now ahead and a bit to their left.
It doesn’t seem to be going anywhere, Krea said. She turned, peering more closely. Another boom! confirmed her suspicion. The guns are firing from the front.
They fired all of them from the side when they hit us, Wymarc recalled painfully.
They can move the guns, Krea said. If they see us, they may move the guns to the sides. She looked at the strange ship, saw the balloons from which it was suspended. The top one at the front was a different color from what she remembered.
It is different, Wymarc confirmed when Krea brought her observation to the other’s attention.
Something happened to it, Krea guessed, and they replaced it.
It’s magic, isn’t it? Wymarc said.
I wonder if it can be punctured, Krea thought.
What’s that? Wymarc thought, turning toward a new sight. There’s fire.
It’s for the engines, Krea said, to turn the propellers. She realized that they hadn’t been turning before and wondered what that would mean for them.
Chapter Five: The Wyvern’s Shriek
“Sir, sir!” Knox cried running back to Captain Ford. “It’s the wyvern!”
“What?” Ford said, turning to follow Knox’s directions. He pulled up his telescope and quickly glanced through it. “By the gods, you’re right!”
“The gods have smiled on us,” Crown Prince Nestor said. “The wyvern is here. All we have to do is defeat it and our glory is guaranteed!”
“It won’t do us any good unless we can return to Kingsland,” Knox muttered grimly. He glanced up at Ford. “That’s the same beastie that killed Lieutenant Havenam, sir?”
“No,” Ford said, shaking his head. “That wyvern was gold. This is white with gold etchings. The colors of the one who flew away.” He gave the prince a sour look. “The one who was reborn.”
“My father told me to come back with the wyvern or not come back at all,” Nestor said, glaring toward the white dot that flew toward them. “This is my only chance at the crown and my inheritance.”
“It’s no use killing the wyvern,” Sykes said. He’d seen the others talking and had sprinted back from the bow to join them. “How are we to bring it back?”
“The head, surely,” Knox said. “That’d be all we need.”
“So, after we kill it, we’re supposed to land, chop off its head and then sail back triumphantly to Kingsland?” Sykes said. He shook his head. “How are we going to kill it, anyway?”
“You can’t kill her!” Angus Franck cried from his position by the useless steam engine.
“Well, I can hardly see how we can capture her,” Sykes replied, gesturing toward the wyvern. He frowned. “She’s getting closer, isn’t she?”
“I can talk to her, if you let me get near enough,” Angus said in a pleading tone.
“I don’t see how we can go anywhere, we’ve got no power,” Knox said.
Angus licked his lips, desperately trying to come up with a solution. Finally, in triumph he cried, “We could tear up the decking, or the wood in the quarters and use that to stoke the boiler!”
“And how do we get back?” Ford asked the apprentice smith ruefully.
Angus frowned for a moment, then looked up brightly, “She could tow us, sir!”
Ford stroked his chin as he considered this wild idea. He glanced up to Angus. “Very well, Mr. Engineer, you may use the ship’s wood for your fires.” Angus started to rush away but Ford stopped him with an upraised hand. “Take the bulkheads first and the galley tables. Try to leave us enough that we don’t fall apart.”
Angus nodded hurriedly and rushed off.
“Mr. Reedis!” Ford called loudly to the mage who stood amidships ready to do his job. Reedis turned to his call. “Can you warm the water for us? We’re going to stoke the boilers with the ship’s wood but it would be a great help if the waters were already hot.”
Reedis walked quickly back to the captain, raising a hand in salute which Ford, in surprise, returned.
“If I do that, sir, I’ll be no good for anything else,” the purple-robed mage warned. “Not going up or coming down.”
“If we can’t move forward, we’re doomed,” Ford said. He nodded firmly. “Do it. We’ll manage what comes after.”
“I hope so!” Reedis replied with a grin. He turned to the looming shape of the metal boiler and, shaking his head regretfully, walked toward it. He turned to call back to Ford, “Have someone ready to catch me.”
“Of course,” Ford said, nodding to Knox who detailed a sturdy airman to follow the mage.
With the airman at the ready, Reedis put his hands on the boiler, drew himself up to his full height and threw all his magic into the cold, frozen water. With a gasp, Reedis dropped to the deck, caught by the airman at the last moment.
Angus came rushing hurrying a squad of airmen who were carrying bundles of wood. He had the men throw them into the boiler and hastily called up flames.
“I didn’t know he could do that,” Knox muttered to Ford, pointing to Angus.
“It’s fire magic,” Ford said. “Maybe Ibb taught him.”
“No,” Annabelle said as she approached them. “He had the need, so he found the power.” She glared at Ford. “He tore all the tables and benches out of the galley, where are the men going to eat?”
“The wyvern!” Crown Prince Nestor cried, grabbing Annabelle’s arm, “we found it!”
Annabelle jerked her
arm out of his grasp. “You found the wyvern, so what?”
“I can go home!” Nestor said.
Annabelle shook her head and snorted. “How will that happen, princeling? We’ve no fuel — we’re burning our own ship for power and we’ve no shot left for the cannon.”
“What?” Nestor cried in alarm. He glanced to Ford. “No shot?”
A cannon fired and Nestor jerked his hand toward it. “What is that, then?”
“Listen to the sound,” Annabelle told him testily. “That was charge of gunpowder, no ball.”
“But we have to kill the wyvern!” Nestor wailed. “If we don’t, I can’t return to my father.”
“Nestor,” Ford said, with a sour look on his face, “I have something to tell you —”
“Tell me that we’ll get that wyvern!” Nestor shouted back.
Ford’s face flushed with anger. “Whether we get it or not, your father ordered me to return without you!”
Nestor’s eyes went wide. “What?”
“Your father, King Markel, said that whatever happened, I could not return with you,” Ford told him in a hard-edged voice. When he saw the lad’s confusion, he persisted, “He wants you dead.”
“Dead?”
“Dead,” Ford confirmed. Ruefully, he added, “Your royal mother, on the other hand, told me not to return without you.”
“Mother always liked me better,” Nestor said in agreement. He glanced toward the white form in the distance. “But if that’s the case…”
“It doesn’t matter what we do with the wyvern,” Ford said.
“You’ll not be killing her, not while I have breath in my body!” Angus declared hotly, coming to the stern to join the others.
“I hardly think it’s possible,” Ford allowed mildly, “given that we’ve no cannonballs left.”
“I’m not sure that she knows that,” Annabelle said, pointing at the rapidly approaching figure of the wyvern. She cast a glance at Ford. “Do you suppose she is out for revenge?”
“I would be, in her position,” Ford agreed grimly. He glanced around, toward the bow where Sykes and his crews were firing off the last of their powder, toward the stern where the propellers were deployed and had begun pushing Spite — however slowly — forward once more. “Cease fire!” Ford called. He saw Sykes turn back to him incredulously. “Mr. Sykes, cease fire, jettison the cannon!”
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