Wrath of Storms

by Steven McKinnon

  Without taking his eyes from Gallows, Zach rumbled, ‘A moment, Colette.’

  Colette huffed, letting the handkerchief fall to the floor when she left the room.

  Zach clenched his eyes. ‘Nyr’s tits, I thought enlisting in an army of women would be fun.’

  Gallows slashed at him. The pirate deflected and thrust at Gallows, missing him by a hair.

  Their blades chimed back and forth, but Zach knew he had the advantage. Gallows retreated, but the injury in his leg made for poor footing—he mistimed a deflection and the tip of Zach’s blade nicked his chest. He stumbled back and blocked the backswing, before launching a knee into Zach’s balls.

  The berserker went down on one knee, swinging in a wild, wide arc. Gallows lunged and sliced the pirate’s thumb off—the sword fell to the floor.

  Gallows went in for the kill—Zach gripped the edge of Gallows’ blade, pressed forward and tackled him against the wall, losing a thumb in the process.

  Gallows’ head snapped back into the wall. He pummelled the back of the pirate’s head with the pommel of his sword over and over. Zach launched his head up, catching Gallows’ jaw. Gallows bit into his tongue and blood filled his mouth.

  Zach threw him onto a dressing table. Photographs and empty jewellery boxes clattered to the floor—along with his shortsword.

  Dazed, Gallows rolled to the floor, fingers grasping for anything. He found a snuff box engraved with Musa’s harp.

  Dodging Zach’s fist, Gallows hurled the box into his face—a citrusy tobacco powder filled the pirate’s eyes.

  Blinded, Zach’s fists swung but caught only air, leaving himself wide open. Gallows didn’t waste the opportunity.

  He unsheathed the knife strapped to his back and stabbed Zach between the ribs. Blood spurted like a fountain, and Zach fell face-first to the floor.

  One down, a hundred to go.

  Morton corkscrewed through the air, bullets spinning. His bricode machine spat warning upon warning, and his instincts screamed at him to flee. No job’s worth dying for.

  He chased down an Avispa and got it in his sights. He squeezed the trigger—but the Avispa’s engines cut out.

  It plummeted like a stone, the absence of thrusters making it tough to spot against the backdrop of black sea.

  Stalled on purpose. Shit.

  Schaefer materialised in front of Morton, swooping low, hunting.

  ‘Get back!’

  The Avispa reappeared, thrusters blazing, arrowing towards Schaefer.

  Morton chased it down, drilling bullets into its belly—but he was too late.

  Smoke trailed from Schaefer’s Phantom. He spun towards the Queen, striking her hull and tearing a gash through it.

  Gallows clutched his knife—the better weapon in tight confines—and crept through a dark, quiet hold. Towers of cargo and luggage were lashed to the floor and walls, and the only sound came from hushed voices beyond a pile of suitcases—two male pirates, one big, one wiry. They rifled through belongings.

  ‘Come on, one o’ these rich buggers must have a book of dirty pictures. You find anything, Madyx?’

  The taller of the two—a mountainous man with slick, chalk-white hair—grunted.

  ‘All right, check the back.’

  They stalked close to where Gallows hid. He leaned against a stack of crates, watching the shadows shift on the floor as the pirates moved, knife readied.

  Steel lockers squealed and shunted as the storm battered the Queen. Gallows eased his weight onto one foot, stepping around the crates and flanked the pirates. He came up behind the bigger one.

  He crept closer, ready to cover Madyx’s mouth and cut his throat—

  An explosion ripped through the cargo hold, sending Gallows and Madyx flailing.

  Freezing air hissed inside—the explosion had torn a hole through the Queen’s hull.

  Before Gallows could think, Madyx grunted and rounded on him, two spiked knuckle dusters gleaming on the pirate’s fists.

  Gallows retreated to the shadows, but the hole in the Queen’s hull widened. Cargo broke free from its bonds and trolleys, crates and lockers wrenched from the floor and disappeared outside.

  Gallows ran between stacks of goods, flitting from cover to cover—but the Queen lurched. The floor tilted and broke away, throwing Gallows back towards the hole. He grabbed a secured crate’s safety netting, the only thing preventing him from tumbling through the expanding gap.

  Then Madyx spotted him. The pale-skinned giant lurched towards Gallows, eyes glinting and paying no mind to the treacherous destruction within the cargo hold.

  But before he could reach Gallows, one of the crate’s safety cables snapped.

  Gnashing his teeth, Gallows clung to the netting with one hand as the crate’s momentum thrust him through the gap. His stomach rolled as he twisted through the air, watching the crate’s single remaining cable uncoil in front of him.

  The cable tautened, and the crate slammed into the Queen’s outer hull. A chill wind bit at Gallows, as cold as plunging through the surface of a frozen lake.

  The crate whipped and buckled in the air like an unbroken stallion striving to kick its rider off.

  Gallows let the knife fly from his fingers. With two hands, he gripped the crate’s netting, wind and rain lashing him and the black sea willing him to let go.

  Fighter craft zipped past and bullets scorched the air. Gallows pulled himself across the safety netting, crawling back towards the cargo hold.

  Then the cable frayed where it hooked into the safety net.

  Shit.

  Luggage flew out of the hole, spinning past Gallows and missing him by inches. His forearms burned from the strain, but still he kept scaling the netting, unable to take his eyes from its fraying threads.

  He reached for the cable—as soon as he grabbed it, the crate snapped away at his feet and smashed against the airship’s hull.

  Gallows dangled from the cable, legs whipping in the air and unable to breathe. He climbed hand over hand, inch by agonising inch, not knowing if the pirates were waiting to send him into the sea.

  Bullets drilled into the hull next to him, and one of Morton’s Phantoms erupted.

  Almost there…

  He pulled himself through the gap and back into the cargo hold, clinging to the rope, refusing to let it go.

  The pirates had gone.

  Gallows clung to the wall, and let himself breathe.

  Serena stepped over two dead bodies, their wide eyes staring up at her.

  She’d taken a short, thick-bladed sword from a dead body—it felt awkward and heavy, but it was better than nothing.

  ‘They’ve unlashed the life capsules,’ Enoch said, peering through a hatch leading to an external lifeboat bay. ‘There’s no way off the airship—I suggest we locate Captain Vabrizio.’

  I’d rather find the kennels and make sure Scruff’s okay.

  Myriel squeezed Serena’s shoulder. ‘So, the pirates intend on keeping the Queen—I believe we can assume they aren’t here for you.’

  It was small comfort. ‘Guess not—but I’m the only one who can stop them. I’ve got an idea.’

  Shaking with adrenaline, Gallows fought his way towards the Queen’s main lobby. The raiders congregated there, herding hostages like sheep, kicking them to the floor and taking turns beating them.

  Gallows’ jaw set. Assholes.

  A commotion broke out among a knot of passengers—Aulton Carney was putting up a fight against three raiders.

  The blonde-haired pirate, Colette, frog-marched another hostage across the atrium: Genevieve.

  She brandished a gold-hilted dagger in front of the singer, silencing Aulton’s protests.

  Gallows gripped the hilt of his sword tighter. He scanned his surroundings, looking for a way to strike at Colette without being spotted.

  Then the point of a blade pressed into his lower back.

  ‘Drop the weapon,’ a woman whispered. Her voice sounded familiar. ‘Stupid finis
a.’

  All I have to do is get close enough to their leader, and this is over.

  Enoch charged, acting as decoy. Three raiders converged on him, lashing with hand-axes.

  Serena slipped past, down towards the airship’s main atrium. She felt Gallows’ presence down there somewhere, among the rest of the hostages.

  I can do this. The siren-song vibrated inside her. All I have to do is get close enough.

  She brought her heavy sword around and cut one of the cables connecting the balcony to the ceiling. She gripped the cable, heart thrumming like overpowered pistons.

  Here goes.

  Serena leapt.

  She dropped the sword and swung across, the lobby below zipping past in a blur. She landed on a lower balcony at the opposite side and squeezed between passages and conduits as she made her way down to the hall, avoiding the open aisles and sticking to shadows.

  Marauders stormed past, cursing at Enoch as he kept up his part of the plan.

  Heart pummelling, Serena made her way through a crawlspace, freezing when a pirate stood not one foot away from her. Serena waited for his footsteps to disappear before creeping closer to the assembled hostages.

  With Enoch diverting attention, Serena made it to the atrium’s ground floor. She kept well back.

  The pirates all wore similar leathers and oxygen masks—she’d have to get inside someone’s head and make them tell her who the leader was.

  There’s Gallows. A female pirate put him on his knees, looming over him like the spectre of Nyr herself.

  Then she removed her mask and shook her wild, black hair out.

  Serena froze.

  Holy shit—Tiera?

  It didn’t make sense—Tiera Martelo was crew, once—family. Why was she here?

  Let’s ask her.

  Serena summoned the song, focusing on Tiera—she didn’t hear the footsteps behind her.

  Someone grabbed Serena and hurled her to the floor, kicking her in the ribs and sending her rolling into someone’s legs.

  ‘Colette!’ her assailant called.

  A blonde-haired woman sauntered over to Serena, a sword in her scabbard and a dagger in her belt. She glanced from Serena to a pocket watch with a yawn. ‘Well done, you beat up a girl. Help corral the others.’

  The pirate who had attacked Serena put his fist to his heart and disappeared.

  She’s the one giving orders.

  ‘Your name?’ Colette demanded. The pirate reminded Serena of a porcelain figurine—pretty, but cold and lifeless. Serena’s eyes flicked to the ornate dagger in her belt, and electricity played on her fingers.

  Come closer.

  Colette bent down to Serena, so close the pirate’s lavender perfume stung her eyes.

  ‘Eh, should you really be standing so close?’ said one of her subordinates.

  Send him away.

  ‘Help Madyx, and find Zach’s body.’

  Aulton Carney struggled over to Serena. ‘Animals! She’s a young girl.’

  A tan-skinned woman with long, greasy brown hair pulled Aulton back. ‘Here’s a question,’ the woman barked. ‘No way you cut around with Genevieve Couressa and don’t have a go of her—what’s she like? She moan as good as she sings?’

  Aulton clenched a shaking fist—the pirate goaded him, barking at him like a feral dog.

  Serena delved deeper into Colette’s mind. Make her stop.

  Colette angled her head back. ‘Leave the old man be, Solassis. Surely there’s stronger prey on this rig?’

  Solassis spat a wad of phlegm onto the floor and squared her shoulders. ‘Since when do you give orders to me?’

  Serena’s heart rate spiked. Colette’s not the leader?

  Colette let out an exasperated sigh. ‘Is everything a competition with you? You’re worse than the men and their cock-swaggering. Have your way with the old man, I care not a jot—but best not kill Couressa’s retinue until the captain gets here, yes?’

  Solassis bowed in mock deference. ‘As you say.’ She marched backwards, arms spread wide.

  Aulton smiled a thank you to Serena.

  It lasted a second before Solassis spun and slashed the old man’s face.

  Serena screamed.

  The old man fell backwards, blood leaking from him. Fabian Aereli cried out, hobbling over with his hands behind his back.

  Solassis made a show of stretching and yawning. ‘He’s still alive, your magnificence.’

  Rage burned in Serena’s gut.

  An instant.

  That’s all it took.

  The connection between her and Colette intensified.

  Juddering like a puppet, the pirate withdrew from Serena, unsheathed her dagger and attacked Solassis.

  Kill her.

  Serena’s command was simple—too simple, a fluttering thought that she couldn’t grasp.

  Colette slashed at Solassis—the other woman dodged, face screwing up. Serena commanded Colette to attack again—but Solassis wove away and plunged her own blade into Colette’s gut.

  The connection severed.

  Blood spilled from Colette’s wound. She dropped to her knees, head angled at Solassis.

  Then she slumped to the floor.

  ‘No.’ The word drew out of Serena as silent as a breath. ‘No, I…’

  Solassis and the other pirates stared at Colette’s corpse in silence.

  ‘Get the captain,’ Solassis barked.

  Enoch’s fist cracked against a pirate’s skull with a dull thud, sending him crumpling to the floor. What civilians he managed to save retreated, but to safety or further danger, Enoch didn’t know—one could only do so much.

  ‘There are more coming,’ he called to Myriel.

  ‘Give me a moment…’

  More pirates filled the corridor, rushing on Enoch, undeterred by their fellows’ broken limbs and moans of pain.

  ‘Close your eyes!’ Myriel said.

  A thundering crack and a flash of pure, white light filled the passage, stunning the pirates attacking Enoch.

  He fought them back, hurting them without killing.

  But more were coming. The Queen of the North had been boarded by an army.

  It was a strange thing, to be immortal and still feel pain. Fear had dimmed inside Enoch, but it was still there; while his bladder didn’t fail him and his knees didn’t quake, Enoch embraced all the fear his dead heart could muster—it was a reminder that part of him was still human.

  He fought his way down to the lobby, ploughing through scores of pirates, breaking bones and destroying weapons—but he would not take their lives; even an immortal only had so much capacity for sin.

  When there was only one soul brave enough to confront him, Enoch said, ‘This would be an opportune moment to consider your choices. Give up—tell your fellows to do the same, and perhaps we can salvage your lives and souls—’

  The pirate screamed and lunged at Enoch, swinging a curved blade as long as his forearm. The tip of the blade nicked Enoch’s dark cloak, revealing the stony skin beneath.

  The pirate didn’t care. He stabbed and slashed at Enoch in a mad frenzy, froth foaming at his mouth. Does your captain drug you before sending you into battle?

  The pirate swung again but Enoch seized his forearm. ‘Violence is not the way, my friend.’ He twisted the pirate’s wrist, and the blade fell to the floor. ‘A necessary evil, but only as a last resort.’

  The pirate didn’t even register the pain. His free hand jabbed at Enoch’s hooded head.

  ‘Friend,’ Enoch soothed, ‘a real warrior knows when the fight is lost. The Gods—’

  The pirate laughed. ‘We live a life free of the Fayth.’

  Still in Enoch’s grip, the pirate withdrew a metallic orb from his belt.

  An ignium charge.

  ‘Myriel, back!’

  The charge exploded, and Enoch’s world turned dark.

  Morton swooped low and corkscrewed beneath the Queen’s belly. Bullets zipped past his skyglass, stri
king his tail and sending him careening off-course.

  Knuckles white, Morton fought to regain control. He climbed, but it was treacherous.

  He righted just in time to see Darron’s fighter spewing smoke. He spun down like the descent of a flaming comet before the sea swallowed him.

  The Avispas scoured the air around the Queen, guns silent. Smoke belched from the airliner’s stern.

  Am I the only one left? He turned low, broke through the cloud. Beneath him, inky black water shimmered from bursts of lightning overhead.

  Bullets streaked past: Qitarah—she was still alive, hunting down an Avispa and destroying it.

  Well, if she’s still fighting…

  Morton got an Avispa in his sight, lined up the shot, and pulled the trigger. It erupted into a thousand pieces.

  His bricode machine stuttered into life: All Stormriders return to base—surrender and you’ll be spared. Repeat: RTB.

  Qitarah broke off towards the airliner, her guns silent.

  Damn.

  They’d lost.

  Again, Morton considered fleeing—but running on fumes, he wouldn’t get far.

  All Stormriders return to base—surrender and you’ll be spared.

  He’d put up a good fight, but seeing the pirates allow Qitarah to dock in the Queen’s flight tubes convinced him to obey.

  Hell, they might even offer him a job.

  ‘Captain’s boarding!’ called one of the raiders.

  A heavy silence enfolded the grand hall—even the jeering marauders succumbed to it.

  Anxiety churned in Serena’s stomach and rope bonds burned her wrists. She tried to summon her song, but seeing how little control she’d had over Colette silenced it.

  No—I had too much control over her.

  With heavy footsteps, the leader of the pirates marched through the lobby.

  ‘Captain Ventris.’ Solassis—the one who’d killed Colette and slashed Aulton—put a fist over her heart. Ventris returned the gesture.

  ‘Captain… It’s Colette. She’s dead.’ Solassis’ voice cracked. ‘Bitch went crazy and attacked me—had to put her down.’