Chapter Nineteen
Lina watched the Dray Engine approach.
She stood just outside the Stormhammer pyramid, on hard earth baked black. To the west, the sun hung low as it set, casting long shadows across the scorched ring at the center of the island.
The Dray Engine tromped through the southern jungle, its reptilian head bright and brassy above the canopy of snapping, rustling trees. Occasionally it would pause and look down sharply. Then it would stomp, a single metallic thump that resounded across the island entire and drowned out the death cry of some unfortunate animal. That the murderous automaton hadn’t seen her yet was apparent.
This was a terrible idea. Lina swallowed and shifted her weight from one foot to the other. Sure, it had been her terrible idea, one she’d known Natasha would agree to. But that hadn’t meant she’d wanted to be the one out here in the open acting as bait. Though in hindsight, she couldn’t quite think who else would have ended up here.
“Can you see it yet?” called Natasha. The pirate captain stood inside the pyramid at the other end of the tunnel, peering out at her. Farther in, Lina knew, Rastalak was hunkering over the lever that controlled the Stormhammer itself.
Thankfully, Runt and her spawn were safely aboard the Dawnhawk. Her pet scryn had been exhausted after whelping and hadn’t wanted to do more than curl up with a bowl of hard liquor afterward. The scrynlings had quickly followed suit, to the mutual relief of the crew. Though frankly, Lina couldn’t see what all the fuss was about. Runt’s babies were positively adorable, like little flying worms.
“I said, can you—”
“I heard you!” snapped Lina, who then remembered who she was talking to. “It’s at the tree line to the south, coming right this way.”
Silence answered her. Lina winced. Even when trying to trick an ancient Voornish death-dragon into a trap by relying on a finicky ancient superweapon, she could depend on Natasha to make her miserable.
“I thank you for your frank input,” said her captain after a moment, voice tight. “Know that I am always willing to listen to anything you might have to say.” There was a thump, like a book snapping shut. “Which doesn’t mean I won’t beat you black and green if you keep giving me lip!”
Lina winced. That stupid book. The threats, she could handle. But Natasha trying to be nice made her feel like the world was crawling down its own throat. “Aye, aye—”
Palm trees snapped and fell as the Dray Engine pushed out of the jungle. It stepped into the clearing and roared, a deafening, metallic sound. Lina stared at it, even as her instincts screamed for her to turn and run.
The automaton stood as tall as the mainmast of a sailing ship, a reptilian horror rendered in imperishable Voornish metal. It was squatter than a real dragon, standing on thick hind legs and powerful feet, and its tail swayed behind as it stalked. The forelimbs were shorter, its designers having traded quadruped versatility for the ability to grasp and tear. From atop the thick, armored neck, it peered about through great red glass eyes, looking for victims to devour with its coffin-long maw. Past the carapace and armored scales, its inner workings ticked along, all whirling gears and churning pistons.
The Dray Engine finished its call and paused to listen to the echo. Then it lowered its head and snorted, sending out a great gush of steam. It blinked and peered about, and if Lina hadn’t known any better, she would have thought the thing looked bored.
“Captain,” she said in a hoarse stage whisper. “It’s here.”
She could actually hear Natasha rub her hands together eagerly. “Then get on with it, Stone.”
Glorious Goddess in the Realms Above, Lina prayed. Guard me in this, and I’ll make an amazing donation to your chapel in the Yellow Lantern Terrace back home. That one with the really gross priest who likes to hold your hand just a little too long. I’ll even give up the old Voorn jewelry that I got back in Yrinium. I swear it.
Lina took a deep breath, tried to ignore the lurching of her stomach, and cupped both hands around her mouth in a makeshift speaking trumpet. “Hey!” she yelled. “Hey, beast!”
The Dray Engine paused. It peered about, looking for her. Lina swung her arms about, and when that didn’t work, pinched her fingers between her lips and let out a piercing whistle. The Dray Engine stared straight at her.
“Yes!” shouted Lina. “Right here, you great damned wind-up lizard! That’s right, I’m talking to you!”
The Dray Engine snorted.
This is going to get me killed. This is going to get me killed, and I am going to die. She took a breath. Then she unlaced her trousers, turned around, and mooned the ancient Voornish machine.
The wind was surprisingly brisk.
Lina glanced back to see the Dray Engine jerk back in startlement. It blinked its great red glass eyes, its maw slightly agape. Then it roared in affront.
The ancient automaton leaped forward, its head held low for speed. Lina swore and raised her trousers, fumbling to cinch the buckle.
“What’s going on?” shouted Natasha. “What’s it doing?”
“It’s coming!”
“What?”
“It’s coming!” she yelled.
The ground shook like it was giving birth to an earthquake. Lina’s ears rang as the Dray Engine roared again, far, far too close this time. And her damned belt wouldn’t buckle.
To the Realms Below with it. She grabbed her belt in both hands and ran into the tunnel entrance to the pyramid. The earth bucked, twisting beneath her legs and ruining her footing. Heart in her throat, she fell, tumbling as the light from outside was occluded by the enraged machine. She hit the dusty earth as the Dray Engine slammed into the pyramid like a falling meteor.
“Now!” roared Natasha.
There was a sudden hum, which rose to a violent vibration Lina felt in her bones. Light bloomed, both inside the pyramid and somewhere outside past the Dray Engine. Then came a crackling discharge that seemed to tear through the world entire. What little Lina could see was painful and bright. The whole of the Dray Engine shuddered violently. Arcs of galvanic energy washed over it, and the grasping claws that sought for Lina just within the tunnel spasmed. She was near enough to the thing that her hair stood painfully on end, which forced her to roll away as sparks shot from the monster.
The Stormhammer’s blast faded. The galvanic arcs crawling across the Dray Engine died off. Then the ancient automaton went very still. It fell away from the pyramid, and the tunnel opened again as it crashed to the ground.
Lina stared, panting. White spots danced across her eyes, like she’d stared into the sun for too long. Her ears rang too. So much so that she barely heard the crunch of Natasha’s boots running down the tunnel.
“Did it work?” demanded her captain. “Did we get it?” Natasha stopped just inside the tunnel, Butterbeak flapping down to her shoulder. She peered out, wary, then glanced back at Lina. “Stone, get...” She paused. “Pull yer damned trousers up and get over here and go check that thing out.”
She stared at her captain, incredulous. I just almost died! Check it out yourself! But Lina only sighed. “Yes, Captain,” she said. Everything sounded funny, and Butterbeak was snickering at her, she was sure.
Lina scrambled to her feet, finally cinching her belt buckle. She walked over to the tunnel mouth—and her captain—to peer out at the burnished hulk outside. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Rastalak coming out the tunnel to join them. The little Draykin rubbed his hands together as if they’d been singed.
The clearing outside the Stormhammer pyramid was a scorched, blackened mess. Clouds of stinking smoke roiled up into the bright blue sky. Little flames danced across the ground, though just as before, the jungle ringing the island exterior seemed untouched.
The Dray Engine still lived.
It lay awkwardly, a massive metal hulk toppled over onto its side. Sparks jumped from its extremities while galvanic arcs sizzled across its armored carapace. The great red glass eyes of the thing rolled about
as it twitched and jerked like an old man having a seizure. From somewhere inside sounded a muted mechanical groan.
“It’s still alive,” said Natasha flatly.
“The creations of the Great Masters are notoriously resilient,” said Rastalak.
“It’s still alive.”
Lina adjusted her trousers. “That was kind of the point, Captain.”
“I wanted to kill it.”
Rastalak made a sibilant sigh. “We know, Captain.”
Natasha growled, a small weird twin to the noise the Dray Engine itself was making. She stepped outside and kicked the machine. Galvanic sparks flared at the contact, and Natasha jumped back with a yelp, flinging Butterbeak free as she cursed and shook her now-singed boot. With effort, the Dray Engine twisted its head around to glare hatefully at her.
“Enough!” she said. “Where’s the damned airship?”
As if on cue, a shadow fell across them all. The Dawnhawk appeared from behind the peak of the pyramid.
Lina sighed in relief. She’d been reasonably sure that the airship would be safe from the Stormhammer out along the northern shore of the island, but none of them were certain. Still, the vessel was a wreck. Her ropes dangled, her hull was scuffed, and her canvas sagged in places along the gas bag to reveal the cells beneath. The shining aethersails were either torn, or hung at bent angles.
Even so, the airship maneuvered into place overhead, fifty feet above. Reaver Jane leaned out over the gunwales to peer down at them.
“Everything work out?” she hollered.
“Aye,” said Natasha. “Now get down here and help me tie this contraption up!”
Reaver Jane shouted an order back down the deck, then tossed a rope ladder over the side of the airship. More ropes and cables appeared, followed by Etarin, Farouk, Paine, Michael Hockton, and Andrea Holt.
Lina moved to hold the nearest ladder for her crewmates. “How’s Runt doing?” she asked as Etarin reached the ground.
The Salomcani pirate stared at her. Then he turned away in disgust. Michael was down next, though, and he smiled at her, his face covered in welts. “She’s fine,” he said. “The younglings too—all asleep. I think I saw a small cage in one of the storage lockers that might hold them. We can dig it out once we get moving again.”
Lina jerked back. “What? We can’t cage them up!”
“Stone!” snarled Natasha. “Get over here! This was your damned idea in the first place!”
She flinched. “Yes, Captain.” Lina smiled at Michael, then grabbed a dangling rope from above and went to work.
Restraining the Dray Engine was awkward, haphazard work. The smoke in the air made it difficult to breathe, and residual galvanic charge shocked them wherever they touched the metal skin of the thing with bare hands. As if that wasn’t enough, the monster seemed aware that they were crawling across it. Its seizures became more violent, and the muted rumble within its carapace grew stronger with every passing moment.
Impending death by mechanical dragon proved a great motivator. Lina raced across the thing, running cables under the knees, around the neck, and across the armored carapace. It was tricky, especially with the Dray Engine twisting and jerking about. The last thing she wanted was to slip and get her leg caught in the heavy gears twisting along beneath the armored plates.
The others did their parts, working quietly and efficiently. For all their trepidation and the weirdness of the situation, this was something they knew how to do and practiced regularly. Loose knots, awkward weight, weakened chains—all of these could cause a stack of freshly stolen cargo to go slipping off into the ocean on its way up to the airship holds. So Lina and her crewmates moved with care, doubling loops around brazen limbs and triple-checking the knots that would suspend the monster evenly.
Finally, they were done. Lina stepped back with the rest, regarding their handiwork. The Dray Engine lay bound in a nest of haphazard cabling and old rope, now tethered firmly to the Dawnhawk above them. The machine fought, its strident groans becoming stronger with every second. But their restraints would hold. Probably.
Andrea Holt stared at the giant automaton. “This is...insanely dangerous, Captain.”
“Oh, don’t I know it,” said Natasha flatly. She turned away to climb up the ladder. “But it’s time someone else suffered this miserable clockwork nuisance as much as I have. Besides, I seem to recall that it really enjoyed tearing apart Perinese warships. Good plan, Stone.”
Their captain ascended back to the airship above. Lina found herself suddenly being glared at by everyone else. Even Michael looked dubious. “What?” she said, throwing up her hands. “If we can get it back to town, it’ll wreak havoc!”
“Yes,” said Paine. “If we can get it back to town.”
“And what do we do when the fighting’s done?” asked Reaver Jane. “Ask it nicely to leave?”
“Get yer arses up here!” snarled Natasha.
Lina’s crewmates turned away from her, reluctantly, until only Michael Hockton was left. He put a hand to her shoulder, and she leaned into it wearily.
“You think it’s a good idea, don’t you?” said Lina. “I mean, we don’t even have to do any fighting this way—just drop the thing on them and fly off.”
The ex-soldier shrugged. “Well...”
Lina glared at him. Then she shrugged his hand away. “Fine, then. Just wait. This will—”
The ground shook as the Dray Engine slammed its tail into the earth. It roared, its maw closed and muted, but unmistakably enraged.
Lina swallowed. “This...this will work. It has to.”
She grabbed the rope ladder and climbed up, crawling just over the gunwales as the Dawnhawk gained altitude again, if just barely. Natasha had taken the wheel from Ryan Gae while Allen frantically worked the gearbox controls by the helm. The propellers at the rear of the airship spun up, pushing and lifting against the massive weight anchoring it, tilting the deck at an awkward angle. Lina swore and grabbed for a handhold while the rest of the crew yelled in surprise.
“Can we even fly right now?” demanded Natasha. She held out an arm for Butterbeak to land upon.
Allen ran over to eye the propellers at the very rear of the ship. “We should be able to, if we haven’t burned through all our coal stores,” he said. A great scraping noise echoed up from the earth back down below, and he smiled up the deck at everyone. “See?”
“What do you mean, if?” demanded Natasha. “Shouldn’t you know how much coal we have?”
“I haven’t had time to check it!” said Allen, raising his voice. “I’ve been fighting off soldiers and pirates and every other Goddess-damned thing you people get caught up in!”
Lina blinked at Allen. Natasha too seemed surprised. “No need to be a child about it,” she said, sounding uncharacteristically reasonable. “Just go check the stores as soon as we get underway.”
Bit by bit, they gained speed. The scraping noise continued as they went, interspersed by the clang of a rock as they dragged the Dray Engine across the burned earth. Natasha took them around the pyramid, avoiding the jungle as they gained speed and height, and with one last dragging lurch, they leveled out and floated free.
Relief washed over Lina. The rest of the crew seemed to feel it too; big Farouk let out a whoop that the others joined in on. They were free of the Stormhammer, the Castaways, and the threat of the Dray Engine itself.
Sort of.
Oh! Runt! In all the excitement, she’d forgotten to check up on her little mother.
Lina ran down the deck, grabbing Michael Hockton by the arm as she passed him. “Michael! Quick, where’s Runtie? And her adorable little babies?”
Her ex-soldier stumbled a bit as the Dray Engine shifted itself below the airship. “She’s in her usual spot,” he said with a strained smile. “Just over here.”
Lina dragged him over to the exhaust pipe amidships, where she and Runt both preferred to spend their free time. The little mother lay there below the pipe, snug up agai
nst it in an exhausted coil about her scrynlings, who slithered back and forth, blindly writhing about.
“Aww,” she sighed, looking back up to Michael Hockton. “Aren’t they adorable?”
Her crewmate stared at the scrynlings, his face a frozen mask. A forced smile fought its way onto his features, fell away, and reappeared. “Sure,” he replied slowly. “Why not? Here, let’s get that cage.”
Lina felt butterflies take flight in her stomach. She leaned into him, then rose up on her toes to give him a kiss. His attention was still riveted on the scrynlings, and it took him a surprised moment to respond. But respond he did, and she quickly forgot the taste of blood, vomit, and smoke on his lips.
The moment broke as the deck shifted again. Lina pulled away, hunting for balance, as Runt gave a weary chirp and surprised exclamations echoed from the rest of the crew on deck. Michael said nothing, only continuing to hold onto her.
“We’re just at about peak ascent,” called Natasha. “Swollen guts of the Goddess, that beast is heavy.”
Lina glanced back at her captain, only to see Allen standing a few feet away. He’d been heading up towards the bow on some errand, a coil of rope over his shoulder and a hammer in his hand. The apprentice Mechanist was staring at her and Michael Hockton. Then he threw his hammer to the deck, startling Runt, and stalked away back towards the helm.
Oh. Allen. That’s right, I’ve been leading him on for a bit. Lina stopped to think. Is that why he’s been so out of sorts this afternoon? Or was it the fires, the fighting, and that finger he lost? He’d always been a bit odd, even at his best. She’d have to have a talk with him later.
“Captain Blackheart!” cried Omari from up near the bow. “We need to make another pass!”
“The Dray-thing is too low,” echoed Paine beside her. “It’s not gonna clear the cliff!”
Beneath a Burning Sky (The Dawnhawk Trilogy Book 3) Page 31