by R. J. Louis
“Outside?” Molly asks. “How outside?”
Mudge curses. “He’s taken Izaak. He’ll be looking for a ship to the Watchtower.”
“Well, let’s go get him,” Molly says. “He can’t have got far in an hour. Probably takes at least a couple hours to find a ship willing to travel somewhere that doesn’t exist for no money.” She cracks a grin. “I don’t know what everyone’s so worried about.”
“It’s just one more thing out of our control,” Mudge says. “And if things have gone pear shaped with Jonas and Lily—Did you hear that?” Molly shakes her head. “Who’s watching the dock?”
“Um, I was,” Rico says. “I came in to tell you that Jonas is in trouble.”
Mudge’s eyes narrow, then he roars. “ALL HANDS! ALL HANDS ON DECK TO REPEL BOARDERS!” He grabs a sword from the wall of Thunder’s cabin and steps out into the twilight. “Molly, get us ready to take off.”
Then he ducks as an axe swings through the air towards his head.
44 - Battle on The Kingfisher
A half-dozen men of ill-repute and ill-favour clamber over the deck like ants on a child’s sweet. Mudge ducks the axe that swings towards him, and winces as it chunks into the fine Livewood of the ship above his head. With a roar, he throws the sword at the first assailant, who stumbles back, hands dropping the haft of the axe, and leaving it for Mudge to pull from the wood and twirl viciously.
“Clear me a path,” Molly says quickly from behind him.
“They’ve really caught us with our pants down,” Mudge grunts. “Rico, you’re the closest thing we’ve got to our errant Raven priest. Any chance you’ve got some hitherto undeveloped magical ability to push these guys off our ship?”
“I—uh—” Rico stammers.
“I’ll take that as a no. ALL HANDS!” Mudge cries again, but already voyagers armed for war are starting to rise out of the lower decks like a vengeful swarm of bees. Then the assailant, who has picked up Mudge’s sword and balances it deftly in his hand, charges at Mudge.
The axe swings out, the flat of the head deflecting the sword, catching the blade. Mudge twists the grip in his hands, trying to break the other man’s hold on the weapon, but he withdraws the blade with a quick swipe, grinning a wolf’s eager grin at him.
He reminds Mudge of Dante, the sociopath from Evergreen, and anger clouds him. “Molly, stick behind me, and make it for the ladder as soon as you see a path. Rico... time to get your hands dirty kid.”
Then Mudge charges. He holds the axe across his chest, using the haft to block the swing of the Wolf’s sword, before his feet crash him into the unprepared assailant. His lips are curled in a bloodless smile, and he roars a battle-cry that sounds like ‘Shrew’.
* * *
As Mudge charges, Molly and Rico run together behind him, their own mad dashes quite different from the burly first mate. Molly takes the first opportunity she can to dart down one of the side-stairs, ducking and weaving as other voyagers spill out, some of them just waking up to Mudge’s roars. Rico sees her go. He watches, eyes wide, as the attackers charge at voyagers with cruel efficiency. His family. He sees one of the invaders spy Molly, and line up to throw a small axe at her back as she tries to fight through the crowd on the narrow stairway. Rico shouts, but the deck is chaotic with noise and his words scatter weakly to the winds.
He’s already sprinting though. Screaming his own war-cry, fighting forward. Molly slows, he can almost see her ears prick up as she hears him. She twists, concern flooding her normally genial face. He sees her mouth move, shaping his name, but he’s running too hard to form words, and it would be too slow anyway. He sprints towards her, as the vulgar attacker throws.
Then the throwing axe finds his back. His world is pain, and the last thing he sees before everything goes blank are Molly’s eyes widening in realisation. He made it between her and the axe. Relief and cold fire swim through his nerves, and he slumps as Molly leaps down the stairs, unharmed.
The darkness lasts forever, and only an instant. The world goes, and in its place there is a void, a distant wind echoes quietly.
Then Rico comes awake, appearing out of the air on the deck, in the midst of the fray. He’s lost, frightened. Confusion dampens his mind, his every movement feels like pushing through deep water. The world is loud, and painful, and it needs to be corrected. Something deep within him rages at confines he can’t see nor understand.
But in front of him stands a man who is not part of his family. A hairy, vulgar looking Solarii with a dumbfounded look on his face and a pair of throwing axes on his belt.
Rico rushes the man, ducking under his surprised guard with ease, and grabs an axe from his belt. With a scream, he starts hacking at whatever part of the man he can reach.
Beneath him, the Widowgas engine hums to life, and The Kingfisher prepares to flee.
* * *
Thunder’s world is darkness. She is coiled like a snake, crouching in the hidden crawl-space within the glass structure. Unable to see, unable to hear anything but the beating of her heart and the dim whine of her motors as they keep her alive.
At least she knows she is finally moving, as the glass sculpture around her shifts slightly. A team of labourers carrying it up and into the city proper. Finally on the move, Lily and Jonas must have played their role. Now it is her turn. She runs through possible scenarios in her head as the slow journey begins. She has no idea where in The Angel’s Fall she will eventually be placed, but she can at least be relatively certain Rishad will be checking on the delivery of his new winnings. Whether it’s in his private suite, or the main floor of the casino, the one thing she can rely upon is that he won’t be expecting her.
45 - Light and Lies
Rishad and his light-form pace in opposite directions around his private suite, waiting. Jonas watches, his head aching, his hands stinging. Lily hadn’t put up a fight. Jonas is bitterly angry at her for that.
He hadn’t put up a fight either, of course. Hadn’t had a chance. By the time he’d put his hand on the hilt of the sword, that light had compressed and shifted, it moved at regular speed, but could change its shape with ease. He’d spun around, and then compressed light had knocked him in the head and everything had gone very bright, then very dark.
He’s bitterly angry at himself for that. And now here he is, tied at hand and foot, kneeling useless in the plush room.
Really, Jonas is just bitterly angry.
“So, my men are taking your ship. Thunder is being brought here unawares. I know this isn’t Eights, but I really thought you’d be better at this little game, Lilian.”
“Fuck off grasshopper,” Lily says through grit teeth. “We’ve got you right where we want you.” She spits at the light-form which keeps returning to stand over her, pulsing with an even white light and denying her even a fragment of shadow to disappear into.
Rishad chuckles, before Jonas joins the fray. “That’s right. You’ve fallen into our trap, you sad, scared little man.”
Rishad growls, then steps closer to Jonas, he toys with a silvery knife, turning it end over end in his delicate hands as Jonas watches, hands bound. Then Rishad slashes at Jonas’ cheek, and Jonas topples to the side, blood spattering the floor.
* * *
The great crate holding Thunder is slowly carried, arms of serving boys straining as they cart it upstairs on long runners before finally delivering it to Rishad’s double-doors. They don’t even glance at Lily, Jonas, or Wilhelm. They are paid well enough to know not to ask questions.
The wooden box sits in front of the voyagers, having only just fit through the double doors.
“Send the guards in,” Rishad says, his voice high and cold. A troupe of security, Wolfpack and Solarii, stump in. They line up in a semi-circle around the crate, weapons drawn. The wolves point crossbows into the centre of the crate, the Solarii holding wicked throwing axes. “Erin, I’m sure you can hear me. I have your voyagers hostage, you’re surrounded. I’d advise you not to try anythi
ng stupid. There’s no escape.” Rishad nods, and the Solarii cut at the corners of the crate, sending the wooden walls falling to the ground with a loud thud.
“What the—”
The fallen walls reveal a great winged beast, sculpted of curling glass, intricately detailed scales carved into its skin. Great loops and swirls of flame run about its figure, two wings of intricately fine glass rest on its back. Its jaw is open in a defiant roar as it sits on its hind-quarters, claws raised. It is beautiful, and terrible. Rishad glares at it, then turns to Lily, eyes like daggers.
“You lied to me.”
“What did you expect?” She spits at him.
“So she is still on the ship,” Rishad muses. “I thought that scheme with your First Mate sounded too ridiculous to be true. No matter. Soon enough The Kingfisher will be taken, and she can be brought in. Shame she wont get to see you suffer.”
* * *
Mudge roars, planting his heavy boot in the chest of the last of the boarders. The man screams as Mudge kicks him off into the night sky, his wail echoing downward until it cuts off with a soft thump. Mudge takes a moment to adjust his hat, then turns around. Most of the surviving crew stand on one side of the deck, scattered with corpses. They stare as one frightened group at Rico, who is still kneeling on the body of the boarder he killed. He grips the haft of the man’s axe in two hands, straining softly to pull it from the corpse.
“Easy there Rico,” Mudge says, walking over and resting a hand on the boy’s shoulder. He can feel him shuddering, trembling with each breath. “You did what you had to do.”
“B-B-B-b—” Rico stammers.
“I know bud, I know.” Mudge takes Rico, lifting him easily off the body, and then picks up the ex-boarder, careful not to get too much blood on Thunder’s duster, as he carries him on his shoulder and drops him off the edge of the ship. He turns to survey the remaining voyagers. “Alright everyone, if you’re wounded, speak to Patch, the rest of you scalawags get to work, I want this deck cleared of bloody corpses, it’s a trip hazard.” He stomps off to the wheel, lit up from behind by the evening lights of Rezir. “Molly, bring us down closer to the ground. We’d better pick up the Captain before this plan falls into any more pieces.”
“Uh, Captain, I don’t know if a slow descent is really the optimal plan at the moment,” Jamala says, her eyes trained on the docks. “Seems almost too perfect of a coincidence that those ships would be taking off right after we made a break for it.” She gestures towards two smaller vessels ascending on twin trails of burning Widowgas, the indigo light shimmering behind the two sky-ships as they power towards The Kingfisher.
“Damn. Okay, new plan.” Mudge looks around at the beleaguered crew, those who aren’t pushing dead boarders off the hull into the desert below. He grins. “Captain Thunder might have to fare for herself. They won’t deliver her unless they get the all-clear from The Angel’s Fall, so she’ll just have to wait a little longer. We’re bravely running away. Molly, punch it.”
* * *
Unfortunately, the all-clear from Angel’s Fall had been one of the things Lily had told Rishad about. She’d told him that Thunder would be waiting in the crate to be delivered, and that they had a rather convincing body double on the ship.
She hasn’t lied. Except perhaps ‘convincing body double’, which she can admit to herself is a little generous. She’s just... withheld the full truth.
It saves their lives.
“Get down to the docks. I want as many men as I can on that ship. Cut them all down, and if it flees...” Rishad pauses, consternation weighing heavily on his face as he contemplates a difficult decision. “Shoot it down. Then burn the remains from the sky.”
Rishad’s men give a salute, most of them look almost eager to get out of the room before Rishad begins playing with his new toys. Still, Lily can see the obedience in their eyes. Much as they might dislike their boss, there is no hope for them there.
“Why the dragon?” Rishad muses, tapping his fingers together as he thinks. “Why this whole rigmarole of the game of Eights?”
“A distraction,” Lily says, trying to colour her words with as much truth as she can. “To keep you from the ship.”
“But why come back here at all? Erin must be going senile.” Rishad moves in to inspect the glass sculpture. Even Lily is impressed by the workmanship. The title of ‘Best glassblowers across the seven shards’ is clearly deserved.
Before Lily is forced to come up with an answer, the glass dragon shatters. A burst of indigo smog fills the room with the smell of burnt Widowgas, and Thunder’s muscled arm reaches out for Rishad’s chest. Her hand grips the scruff of his fine emerald coat, as glass tinkles to the ground around them. Her voice is hoarse, the words scraping like fingernails on a chalk-board.
“Hello, old friend.”
46 - Beneath Heedless Stars
“Mithra’s arse! They’re not giving up!” Mudge yells, his voice whipped by the wind as The Kingfisher powers through the air, trailed by two gaining sky-ships. The three trails of burning indigo light the night sky behind them, leaving streaks of purple over the desert. “Ready the bloody cannons!”
“Sir, we’re not going to be able to get them broad-side without—”
“You let me deal with that. Ready the cannons on the starboard side. Molly,” Mudge shouts into the communication relay, his voice echoing in the metal tube. “Get us a bit more elevation, then get ready to shut off the engines.”
“Shut off the what?!” Molly shouts, over the hiss and clang of the engine around her.
“Just DO IT!” Mudge roars.
“Aye-aye Captain!”
Mudge growls something unintelligible and turns to a waiting voyager. “Get up the rigging, have them ready to drop the sails on my command. Go!” He practically pushes Jensen, the nimble Singer into the ropes, seething. Cannon-fire sounds behind them, and Mudge ducks, swearing, but they’re already gaining altitude, and the shots fly below the keel of the ship.
Mudge feels the rush of command, and the weight of Thunder’s hat and duster on his head and shoulders. Heavy is the head, indeed. Stars twinkle above, heedless of the chaos on deck. Rico is mumbling insensate on the deck, stuffed out of the way against the gunwale. Captain Thunder, Jonas, Lily, and Wilhelm... all still in Rezir. Artemis and Izaak, the one they had been able to save from Evergreen... gone, right under his nose. That smarts.
He resolves to hit Artemis rather hard when all this is over. But for now...
“Places people! We haven’t got all bloody night! I want to get all this dying done before first light! It’s going to get bloody hot out here!”
“Mudge, don’t do anything she wouldn’t do,” Molly says, her voice almost stern.
“When did you grow up?” Mudge asks, cracking a wide smile. “Don’t worry, she gave me the idea for this years ago. She’s going to be damn pissed she didn’t get a chance to see it. She was always too worried it would snap the ship in half.”
“What?!”
“No time to explain! Cut the engines. Now!”
Molly, bless her soul, does as she’s told. The humming vibration that is so familiar to voyagers across the shards goes silent with a cough and a bang from the engine.
The Kingfisher drops through the air, then Mudge signals the voyagers in the rigging, who drop the main-sail and mizzen-sail off the starboard side. The sails flutter then burst full of the wind generated by the remaining momentum. The crew strain at the ropes of the boom as the ship creaks angrily, the main mast bending under the pressure as the ship turns as it falls in the air.
“Now fire!” Mudge yells. The cannons roar, shooting a wave of black iron into the oncoming ships. The foremost of the ships gets hit across the hull, a lucky cannonball penetrating in toward the engine. The Widowgas trailing out behind it sputters, and it begins to lose altitude at an almost equivalent rate to the falling Kingfisher. The second ship pulls back, taking evasive action.
“Alright, Molly, hit the en
gines! Bring us back up!” The wind roars in his ears as he waits for Molly’s response and the hum of the engines.
But no sound comes.
47 - Reunion With Rishad
Rishad laughs, a high pitched cackle that grates on the senses. The laughter dissolves into coarse hacking as he breathes in the smog from Thunder’s exhaust, which fills the room surrounding them.
“So there you are, Erin,” Rishad says, his lips curled into a sneer. “I suppose you think you’ve got me at a disadvantage.”
“I’ve beaten you before,” Thunder says tightly. “I’ll gladly do it again, and this time, finish the job.”
“Things are different now,” Rishad says. “I’m stronger.”
Thunder’s fist tightens in the scruff of Rishad’s fine shirt, and she lifts him bodily from the ground, glaring at him. “Prove it,” she hisses. Rishad only smiles, and then his light-form appears behind Thunder, resolving above the smoke and broken glass. Before Lily, watching from the sideline, can shout a warning, the form punches Thunder in the side of the head, sending her sprawling, dazed.
Rishad falls with her, before scrambling away. “Like it?” He says, as the light-form steps over Thunder, who kicks at it. Her boot meets resistance, but the light-form makes no reaction. “Last time we fought, I could barely do more than see and listen with it. After you left me alive, I knew I had to be stronger.”
The light-form leans down, and punches Thunder in the gut. She grunts in pain. “Strong, isn’t he?” Rishad chuckles. “We trained every day. For this.” Rishad steps closer and kicks Thunder while she’s on the ground. She reacts, whip-quick, and grabs his boot. He stumbles back, off-balance, and she pushes him, sending him sprawling to the floor.