by Mark Cole
They climbed out of the bowl and walked toward the tunnel down to the Silverwing berths.
“Wait, you said four people are supposed to be onboard to use the controller?” Alex asked.
“Yeah, and no’ a bloody one o’ ‘em are worth more than yer own two legs. Bloody Changelings o’ the Wing, Mother cradle ‘em. They built the durned things so they could trade with the flamin’ lands across the bloody ocean. Nothin’ gets ye’ from place to place faster than a flamin’ Silverwing, but ye have a right interestin’ time gettin’ there.”
Terra must have felt Alex’s growing sense of concern, because she looked at the two of them. “Why are you trying to terrify my husband, Brahm?”
He’s not trying, Alex thought. He’s succeeding.
“I’m just tellin’ yer husband ‘bout me own trip on a bloody Silverwing. An’ that yer supposed to have four people to pilot the flamin’ thing. An’ that they have years of experience doin’ nothin’ but pilotin’ the blasted thing.” Alex groaned.
Caitlyn laughed softly behind them. She had heard the entire exchange. “You aren’t afraid of flying are you?” she asked as they entered the tunnels.
Alex gritted his teeth. “Terrified,” he said through clenched jaws.
“Really?” Terra asked. He nodded. “Speeches, flying, is the Guardian afraid of anything else?”
“Spiders,” he muttered.
Caitlyn laughed. “You are afraid of spiders, talking to large groups, and flying through the air, but you aren’t afraid of engaging in single combat with machina that is almost ten times larger than you are?”
“No, I’m afraid of that too. But, at least when you kill one of those it stays dead.”
“When ye kill a spider it stays dead,” Brahm pointed out.
Alex shuddered. “Not always.”
“What are you talking about?” Terra asked. She could feel his revulsion. They entered the open-air Silverwing berths.
“One time, I think I was six or seven, I saw a spider walking on the kitchen floor. They didn’t scare me yet. So, I stepped on it with my shoe. When I lifted my foot, hundreds of little baby spiders came out of it. I’ve never been more terrified than I was at that moment.” He shuddered again. “I’ll never forget it.”
“That’s one o’ the most disgustin’ things I’ve ever heard,” Brahm said. The Dwarf exchanged mirthful glances with the two women. “But, yer seriously ‘fraid o’ spiders?”
They all burst into laughter. Alex glared at them. Terra suddenly stopped laughing and burped. He watched as she put her hand to her mouth and fought down the urge to vomit.
“Serves you right,” Alex said. They stopped at the last vessel in its berth. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. A few moments passed, and she opened them.
“This is it,” Caitlyn said as she walked to the brow that went from the deck of the vessel to the finger pier that ran alongside. They followed her onboard.
The Guardian looked around in confusion. “There aren’t any sails or rigging. There aren’t even masts.”
“Why’d there be masts when ye don’t need sails?” Brahm asked. “I told ye, me boy, this ol’ girl flies by magic. Terra’s our sails, our wind too fer that matter.”
Alex turned to his wife, a pitifully concealed smirk on his face. “Terra, I just wanted to tell you something. You are the wind in my sails.”
She rolled her eyes at him. “Aren’t you cute?” she said sarcastically. He nodded enthusiastically. Terra snorted a laugh and shook her head. She walked past him to a large blue sphere that floated a few feet above the quarterdeck. The Nexus placed a hand to either side of the waist high control device, and the ship hummed to life.
Mooring lines stretched and wood creaked against sudden strain. She took her hands off the sphere just before the lines began to part. “Sorry,” she said. “I wasn’t expecting it to be that responsive. Caitlyn, will you make sure the stores are firmly lashed down below? Will you two cast off the lines?”
The three newly-dubbed deckhands bustled about their tasks readying to get underway. They reported tasks complete, and Terra placed her hands back on the blue sphere. The ship rose gently. They slid out of the berth and into open air. As soon as the stern was clear of the top of the cavernous opening, they shot into the air as if they were launched from a crossbow.
Alex, Brahm, and Caitlyn shouted as they were pushed against the deck. Terra gritted her teeth in concentration. Their ascent slowed, and they rose above the top of Highwind Point.
The sun was well on its rise. The bowl of glass around the massive eagle statue reflected the light, making the eagle shine like the sun. They leveled off and began flying a northwesterly course.
The gentle breeze ruffled his dark brown hair as Alex looked about in confusion. “Why is this called a Silverwing?” he asked. “I don’t see a single thing made of silver on it.”
Brahm grunted. Alex wasn’t sure if it was agreement or indigestion. “Terra, the boy can no’ figure out why the ship be called a Silverwing. Mayhap ye can show him this bird’s wings?”
The breeze blew Terra’s hair out behind her, the brilliant morning light setting her red locks aflame. She grinned. Alex didn’t need the link to tell she was having fun. “Go to the rails and hold on tight, my love. I’ll show you the fabled speed of the Silverwings.”
He walked to the portside rails and held fast. “Ready!” he called. The breeze picked up. It quickly went from gentle to strong to fast to what it felt like sticking your head out of car window going down the interstate.
A brilliant bubble of white energy sparkled into existence around the skin of the ship cutting off the wind. Wings of silver light stretched out to either side of the flying ship. Ground zipped by underneath them at a prodigious rate.
Alex grinned, sadness of the morning fading. But he would never forget the carnage of the last four days. His eyes flicked to the left, and the Guardian caught one last glimpse of the glass eagle. His hands tightened on the rail. And I’ll make sure Azreal never forgets it either.
Chapter Eighteen - Cut Off
Azreal walked down the row of pods in the Extraction Chamber. Doctor Moore, who had invented the diabolical machinery, walked alongside him. Beings both mundane and magical filled each of the large pods, which cast a sickly pale-green light.
“Everything goes as scheduled, Dark Lord,” the man said in a dour tone. “The pods are draining the energy from the primitives as expected. Some last longer in the pods than others. Those that are able to tap into the primal energies of this Realm last the longest.”
“Good,” the Demon Lord said. “I must admit, I had doubts when you first approached me with your proposal.”
“You thought the Realm of Science neutral?” the Fyrian scientist asked.
“And it is. But look what you’ve been able to do with these prototypes.” Azreal glanced down at the short scientist. “But you are not the Realm of Science,” he growled. “You are just one man.”
“I am more than enough.” Doctor Moore touched one of the pods as he passed. “When we install the next generation of pods in the other Obsidian Towers, the rate of life force siphoning will be exponentially increased. All for you, my Dark Lord.”
“When will you begin production in the Realm of Order?”
“As soon as you command, Overlord. I can have it ready to begin extraction from the prisoners there in as little as a month and operating at full capacity within three.”
Azreal reached the end of the chamber, and turned back to look on the pods. “Do it. You will have anything you need.” The seedy man hesitated before leaving. “Is there something else?”
“Almost all of the prisoners have been drained. If we are not able to keep a steady flow of them into the Extraction Pods, the gel will lose its ability to draw the life energy from new inhabitants.”
Azreal grimaced. He knew he should have kept some of the stronger Changelings of the Wing alive, but once the screams started… The Overlord
almost lost himself in the sweetness of the memory. Fear and pain and death echoed in his ears. “I will see that you do not want for prisoners,” he said as he began to walk up the spiral staircase to the Obsidian Throne.
“Thank you, Dark Lord,” the scientist’s voice echoed from below.
Azreal crossed the room silently and ascended more stairs to the very peak of the Obsidian Tower. Wind whipped his sanguine hair and black cloak about. Reaver stood with his back to the stairs overlooking the chaotic army surrounding the base of the tower. “Report,” Azreal snapped at his lieutenant.
The tall demon turned to face him. “There has been no sign of the remaining Silverwings or the Changelings of the Wing. I have dispatched Efreet from Gile to search the skies, but I do not think they will find anything. Before they were killed, some of the changelings said that the Winglord’s youngest son, Aeryn, was the pilot of an expedition across the sea, but that he should have returned already. I suspect his vessels crashed or were otherwise destroyed.
“The dwarves and the Scale have sealed all the approaches to Adorac Volcano. We are not able to get in nor can they get out. The only opening to the volcano is through the top, but the dragons ferociously defend it. We have the entire Forest of Souls surrounded, and the elves and the Fang trapped within. But our forces are either ambushed or turned away when we try to enter.”
Azreal clenched his fists in frustration. “You do not give me good news, Reaver. I ordered them annihilated, and the strongest among them brought here for extraction. You are quickly building a history of failure.”
“I was saving the best news for last. The barbarians of the north and the Changelings of the Claw have marched a considerable force from the Icethrone Castle. They make for the Gap of Druun in the Great Range to try cutting off the army we sent against them there instead of the open tundra. I dispatched a larger force to take the Icethrone and cut them off from behind.”
“Good,” Azreal said. “Grind them to dust.”
Chapter Nineteen - A Hard Landing
“Terra!” Alex shouted over the rush of icy wind. Still on her knees, hands clenched on the control device, Terra muttered mindlessly, her gaze distant and unfocused. “Babe, you have to concentrate!”
Three days of no sleep had exhausted Terra. Had she found a body of water large enough, she might have been able to set the Silverwing down so she could rest. Instead, Terra had only managed a fitful doze while remaining just awake enough to use the required magic to keep them aloft. A storm of freezing rain and howling winds had risen up to batter them. The cold air sapped the rest of her strength, leaving them to plummet toward the frozen tundra below.
“It be no good, boy. Pull ‘er away and strap yerselves in! We’re goin’ down hard!” Brahm shouted over the roaring gale. He and Caitlyn were belted into two of the eight chairs on either side of the helm.
Alex leaned in closer to her. “Cold… So cold,” she muttered deliriously. “Can’t… Can’t keep… Air.”
He looked to Caitlyn. “Can you fly this thing?” he shouted.
Caitlyn shook her head. “She tried showing me how, but it’s too complex. I couldn’t figure it out.”
Alex swore under his breath. “Terra, I know you’re cold and tired, but you have to concentrate. We’ll all die if you can’t level us out. Come on, Beautiful, you can do it.”
Her head turned toward Alex in a daze. Unfocused eyes looked through him. She smiled wanly. “Such a wizard. Always there when I need you.”
Alex put his hands on either side of her face. Her cheeks were freezing. “Terra, you’re in shock. Listen to my voice. C’mon, Babe, you can do it. Listen to me and focus.”
“Alex,” Caitlyn yelled. “The ground is really close. We only have seconds!”
He threw his arms around his wife. “In case we die,” he said in her ear, “I want to tell you I love you. And I wish we could have seen our baby.” She stiffened under his arms. He thought he heard her say something. The Silverwing began to level out, but it was too little too late.
The bottom of the ship slammed into the unyielding tundra. Alex lost his hold on Terra in the impact. He flew from the ship to slam shoulder-first onto the icy ground. His collarbone snapped. A searing heat shot through his chest. He rolled over the break and blacked out from the pain. Something landing wet and heavy next him brought Alex back to consciousness. The Guardian opened his eyes to see a stanchion driven into the ground a couple inches from his face.
Controlling his breathing to steady his racing heart and clutching his arm to his chest, Alex struggled to his feet. He half-ran, half-stumbled to the bulk of the wreckage. His wet clothing stiffened as it began to freeze solid.
Brahm was helping Caitlyn stand. The changeling held her left arm. “Where’s Terra!” Alex shouted over the storm. Brahm pointed to the opposite side of the Silverwing’s ruined hull. Alex ran around the wreckage and let out a sigh of relief.
Terra knelt, still holding the control device on the remains of the quarterdeck. The magic she had used just before the crash had protected her. Alex crouched beside her. “Terra,” he said, leaning close so she heard him. “You did it. We’re down.”
Blank eyes looked at him. “Did we make it?” she asked. She collapsed onto the splintered planks of the wreckage.
Brahm rushed over and picked Terra up. Caitlyn followed a few steps behind. “We have to get out o’ this storm. We’ll die o’ exposure,” the Dwarf said.
Alex glanced around. The back of the Silverwing had broken off cleanly and was leaning at an angle about a hundred feet away. It looked as if one of the compartments for holding supplies still was in one piece. He pointed, and they stumbled toward it.
“Are you all right?” Alex asked as they drew near the closed door.
Caitlyn nodded, saying she had struck her elbow on a spar and thought it was just bruised. She asked him the same question.
“I think my collarbone is broken,” he said.
They stopped by the back of the vessel. It swayed back and forth in the wind. This is going to collapse soon. We need some kind of shelter. “If you do the same thing you did with the statue at Highwind will this be safe to enter?” Alex shouted over the wind and driving rain.
“A preservation?” she shouted. After a few seconds of contemplation, she nodded. “We’ll have to leave the door open so we can get in and out though.” Alex walked over and held the door open. Caitlyn began to cast the spell. The wind picked up, and the poorly balanced wreckage tipped toward them.
Alex shouted and rolled away, pain lancing through him. The aft end of the vessel never touched the ground. He looked back and saw a broken board less than an inch from Caitlyn’s face. The now stable shelter leaned at a wild angle. She had finished the spell just before it crushed them all. The door had closed some, but they all managed the tight squeeze through. Alex thought it fortunate that at least Brahm remained uninjured.
Alex shivered as he checked on Terra, each movement making his collarbone scream in pain. Being passed through the doorway from Brahm to Caitlyn, she had been scraped, but otherwise was not injured. “She’s freezing,” he said. “Can we have a fire in here?”
“On it,” Caitlyn said. She held her hands out and a ball of fire sprang into existence. Drafts came in through the walls that had separated some in the crash, but the air still warmed with some speed. In relatively short order, the four stopped shivering and began to tend wounds.
Brahm inspected Caitlyn’s elbow and declared it not broken. A massive bruise was already beginning to rise though and swelling would make it stiff, but there was nothing they could do about it. Alex’s collarbone was a different matter on both accounts.
“It’s definitely broken, but I think I may be able to heal it,” Caitlyn said. “I’m stronger now, and that was what always held me back from being able to heal people in the past.” Alex nodded his assent for her to try. She released the spell that sustained the ball of fire and crouched next to him. She placed her hands
over the break.
He took a deep breath and clenched his jaw. He groaned as his bone moved into position and set itself. Caitlyn gasped in sudden pain and yanked her hands away. She was panted heavily. “What’s wrong?” Alex asked. His collarbone still ached, but it felt as if it had been healing for several weeks.
Caitlyn winced as she pulled the neckline of her dress over to expose her collarbone. A bruise covered the area where his break had been. “I don’t understand. I’m in my human form.” She regarded him for a second then shook her head. “I’m sorry, Alex, but what the sprites did to me must have changed me somehow. If I had healed you more, my collarbone would have broken. As it is, it’s like we both broke that bone a while ago.”
He lifted his arm experimentally. It still hurt a little, and it would easily break again, but it was much better. “It doesn’t hurt as much. You did what you could. Thank you, Caitlyn.” She nodded.
“Do this food be safe to eat, Cat?” Brahm asked. “I do no think we’ll be able to find our packs in the wreckage and’ll be needin’ supplies.”
She shook her head. “It can’t be eaten now. When it’s time to go, I’ll remove the preservation. This will collapse, and we’ll have to cut through the top to get to the food and heavier clothing we brought for the cold.” Terra stirred, and they all looked at her. She muttered something unintelligible and stilled.
“We’ll have to wait here for at least a day for her to recover,” Alex said. “When the rain lessens, I’ll go outside and look for our packs. They’ll have some food at least.”
A day and a half passed, and the rain continued to drum down. Terra still slept, and everyone was concerned for her well-being. She had warmed but was unresponsive to lights and sound. They had more than enough water to drink and were able to trickle some into her mouth, but there was no food. Weak and shaking, Alex made the decision to go out into the driving rain and wind to look for their packs. “I’ll bring back anything I find,” he said.