“I’m sorry,” Stephano said with a sigh. “I realize you people are only doing your jobs. I don’t suppose it matters what’s in there.”
“Unless there’s something that’s likely to blow up the entire island,” said Sir Henry, who must have been thinking along the same lines as Stephano.
“No, sir,” the worker said with a faint smile. “Nothing like that.”
“Pinnace has set sail,” Dag reported from the window.
He picked up the rifle and began loading it as the sergeant pointed out the weapon’s features.
“I’ve always wanted to fire one of these,” said Dag. “Just get me a clear shot at those fiends, sir. That’s all I need.”
Stephano drew his pistols and turned to Sir Henry. “Ready, sir?”
“Do you have a plan, Captain?”
“Not getting killed?” Stephano suggested.
“As good a plan as any,” said Sir Henry gravely. “Then, yes, sir, I am ready.”
40
My research has led me to develop an application of constructs that could prove useful in defending against contramagic. I need a way to test my hypothesis. If I am wrong, my experiment—and myself—may be short-lived.
—Journal of Rodrigo de Villeneuve
On the Sommerwind, Captain Leydecker was on deck trying to reason with Miri.
“I’ll be fine, Captain. The pinnace seems to handle just like the Cloud Hopper.” Miri gave him a reassuring smile. She inspected the balloon, looked around the small boat, and found all to her liking. “I’ve been sailing boats like this since I was tall enough to reach the helm.”
“I do not doubt your skills as a sailor, Mistress Miri, but it is much too dangererous—” the captain began.
Both of them heard the loud hoots and roars coming from the dragons and they turned to look in their direction. The three dragons were flying away from the refinery. Looking past them, into the Breath, Miri saw the Bottom Dwellers, the bat riders, and their black ship.
She looked back to the dragons, sucked in a breath, and bellowed her sister’s name. “Gythe! I need you!”
Miri returned to the argument with Captain Leydecker. “Landing on that island is going to be tricky and you can’t spare any of your officers or crew. Not with that coming.”
She jerked her thumb at the black ship and the attendant bat riders. Looking around the deck of the Sommerwind, seeing no sign of her sister, Miri shouted Gythe’s name again.
“Take two of my best marksmen, then—”
“Thank you, sir, but there isn’t room in the pinnace,” said Miri earnestly. “We don’t know how many survivors we may have to transport. And, let’s be honest, two marksmen aren’t going to be much help against that lot. I have to leave now. Where is my sister?”
Gythe came running up from below.
“Where have you been?” Miri demanded.
“I was putting the Doctor in the pantry,” Gythe signed.
“Never mind the damn cat!” Miri said angrily. She glanced at the captain, and shifted to speaking in the Trundler language. “What’s wrong with the fool dragons? Right when they might be useful, they’ve flown off! They’ve abandoned Stephano and Dag!”
Gythe was startled. The dragons were now several miles away.
“They’re afraid…”
“They’re afraid! We’re all afraid!” Miri snapped. She looked at Gythe worriedly. “Are the Bottom Dwellers talking to you?”
Gythe shook her head. “They don’t know I’m here.”
“I wish you would go below—”
Gythe tossed her head. Her hands flashed. “We’ve discussed this, sister! I’m not going to hide. If the Sommerwind is attacked, I can help fight them.”
“Pinnace is ready to set sail, Mistress Miri,” Leutnant Baumann reported.
“Be careful!”
“You, too!”
Miri kissed Gythe and embraced her, then climbed the ladder that led into the pinnace.
The balloon was now completely filled. The crew was holding onto the ropes, ready to let go when Miri gave the order. She took her place at the helm and studied the brass plate with the magical constructs engraved on it. The ship was Guundaran and despite what she had told the captain, Miri had been worried that the constructs might be difficult to understand. She saw with relief that they were similar to those on the helm of the Cloud Hopper. If anything, they were even less complicated.
Designed to serve as a lifeboat or to carry crewmembers and supplies between ship and shore, the pinnace was outfitted with a small lift tank built into the gunwale, a single balloon, and a small sail on a lone mast. Long rows of benchlike seats in the center could be removed if necessary. The boat was not armed. The helm was situated at the rear of the boat, so the helmsmen could see where to steer.
Pinnaces were meant to be used only for short distances. They did not provide the most comfortable ride. Being small and light, pinnaces were affected by every ripple, eddy, and current in the Breath. No sailor wanted to be caught in a pinnace during a storm.
“Or in a demon attack,” Miri muttered.
She put that worry out of her mind.
Running her hands over the helm, she was getting the feel of the boat and making certain everything was working. She was about ready to shove off, when she was startled by a “Whoops!” followed by a thud. She turned to see Rodrigo sprawled on the deck underneath the ladder.
“Missed the last rung,” he explained, rising to his feet and brushing off his clothes.
“What are you doing here?” Miri demanded.
“Coming with you,” Rodrigo replied.
“Rigo, I don’t have time for your foolery—”
“I’m not fooling, Miri. I’m coming with you. I can help,” Rodrigo said. “I’ve been working on something. I can’t explain it, but I think it could be useful against the bat riders.”
Miri was surprised. For once in his life, Rodrigo seemed to be serious. She didn’t have time to argue.
“Sit down on that bench and don’t move.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Rodrigo meekly did as he was told.
Miri ordered the sailors to cast off. The pinnace drifted away from the Sommerwind. When they were clear, Miri sent the magical impulse to the air screws, and they began to whir. She adjusted the sail and headed the small boat in the direction of the refinery.
“What happened to the dragons?” Rodrigo asked, taking sudden notice of the fact that they weren’t around. “What are they doing way out there? Did Stephano send them away?”
“They fled. Gythe says the beasts are afraid of the Bottom Dwellers,” said Miri grimly. “I’m not surprised. I’ve been expecting some kind of trouble from them.”
“You never said anything,” said Rodrigo.
“Who would listen to me? Certainly not Stephano. I haven’t been around dragons as much as he has, but I’ve studied their lore for many years. I guess I understand them as well as any human can. And that’s the point.”
“I don’t follow you,” said Rodrigo.
“Take Doctor Ellington. To Dag and Gythe, the cat is a loved friend, a trusted companion. To me, the Doctor is a cat who hangs around because he wants smoked fish. To Stephano, the dragons are comrades-in-arms, friends, companions. Viola and Petard and Verdi are not comrades, they’re not friends. Those names are not even their names. They’re here for their own reason.”
“What do you think that reason is?”
The dragons had landed on the distant island, close enough to see what was happening, but not close enough to be in danger.
“These dragons may be a hundred years old, but in dragon terms that means they’re adolescents,” she said. “They’ve been playing make-believe, pretending to be warriors. Now the make-believe has turned real and they’re afraid.”
“Stephano’s been playing make-believe, too,” said Rodrigo quietly.
“I know,” said Miri with a sigh. “I fear this is going to end badly all around.”
She eyed Rodrigo, who was removing a large wad of silk from beneath his coat. “If that’s a new shirt, it’s one of the ugliest I’ve ever seen.”
“It is a rather gruesome shade of red,” Rodrigo admitted. “I didn’t have much choice. I had to use what silk I could find.”
“What do you mean? Where did you find it?”
“Down near that bad-smelling place I believe is known as the bilge, where they store the rope and sailcloth and nets and such like.”
“And the spare balloons!” Miri was shocked. “Did you cut up one of the spare balloons?”
Rodrigo was down on his hands and knees on the deck, heedless of the dirt, smoothing the silk with his hands. Now that it was spread out, she could see he had made his own crude balloon, formed of two pieces of silk sewn together. He sat back on his heels and looked up proudly at Miri.
“I even did the sewing myself. Comes from years of observing my tailor. What do you think?”
She was busy trying to keep an eye on their destination and on the black ship that was crawling steadily closer.
“I think Captain Leydecker will toss you overboard if he finds out you cut up a spare sail,” said Miri severely. “Why did you bring a limp balloon on board anyway?”
“You will see,” said Rodrigo.
Rising to his feet and hauling the silk with him, he lurched across the rocking deck, heading for the small lift tank. “Once I fill my balloon with some gas from the lift tank the balloon will take flight. How does this valve work?”
“Rigo, don’t you dare touch that!” Miri cried.
“I won’t syphon off much gas,” said Rodrigo. “Just enough to fill the balloon. Do I turn this crank thing—”
“No!” Miri howled. “You don’t know how to work it! If the valve sticks, the lift gas will all leak out and we’ll sink! Rigo, I’m warning you—”
Miri stopped, stared, then gasped. “Oh, God!”
Rodrigo heard her and turned, alarmed. “What?”
Miri pointed.
The island on which the refinery had been built was little more than a large chunk of rock, a part of a continent that had broken off and gone drifting out into the Breath. She could see the underside of the island and three bat riders who had apparently been clinging, hiding there since their failed attack, waiting for their comrades to return. They now had swooped out of hiding and were flying toward the pinnace.
Miri glanced over her shoulder. They were too far from the Sommerwind. They would never reach the ship before the demons were upon them.
“Miri,” said Rodrigo tensely, “tell me how to work the valve. I need to fill the balloon!”
“One more word about your stupid balloon—”
“I swear, Miri, this will help us! That’s why I made it! The balloon is covered with magical constructs. I don’t have time to explain. Miri, please—”
“I’ll fill it!” Miri snapped, watching the bat riders flying nearer. “You come here and watch the helm. Put your hands here and here and don’t move. Don’t so much as twitch!”
Rodrigo gingerly placed his hands on the symbols where Miri had shown him and froze. Miri ran over to the lift tank.
“Fill the balloon all the way,” Rodrigo told her.
“I’m an idiot,” Miri muttered. “A bloody idiot. And I’m going to die an idiot.”
She cranked open the valve until she heard the gas start to escape, then swiftly clamped the opening of the silk balloon over the valve. The balloon filled rapidly. Miri shut the valve, then deftly tied the balloon with the bit of string Rodrigo had borrowed from the cat.
“Don’t let go of it!” Rodrigo warned.
Shaking her head at her own folly, Miri carried the balloon back to Rodrigo. He took it from her and gazed up at it lovingly. She saw a green flash and cringed. One of the bat riders had fired his fireball long gun at them. The Bottom Dwellers were only finding their range, however. The fireball trailed off harmlessly into the Breath.
“Whatever you’re going to do with that thing you’d better do it quickly,” Miri told Rodrigo.
He held the balloon by the string and began running his hand over the silk, drawing lines, connecting lines, forming magical constructs. Being a channeler, Miri could see the constructs start to glow with a faint blue radiance.
“You have a balloon that glows in the dark,” she said caustically. “How is that going to help us?”
“I am going to use it to create a magical shield around the pinnace,” Rodrigo explained.
Miri shook her head and drew her pistol. Cocking it, she laid it on the helm. The three bat riders were separating, planning to come at them from different directions. They raised the long guns. They were in range.
“Rigo, get down!”
Rodrigo paid no attention to her. He was still drawing magic constructs on the balloon.
Green fire flared. Two fireballs slammed into the pinnace; one hitting the hull, the other tearing a hole in the sail. She couldn’t see what happened to the third. The pinnace reeled. Miri gripped the helm with both hands. Rodrigo fell backward into a bench, ending up in a seated position, still managing to keep firm hold of the balloon.
Miri cast an embittered and angry glance at the dragons, who were watching from the safety of their little island. The young one, Petard, appeared to be arguing with the others, hooting and lashing his tail. His sister Viola roared at him, ducked her head, and flared her wings. Petard backed down. Verdi was off to one side, staying out of the quarrel.
“Ready!” Rodrigo announced.
He held the glowing balloon in both hands, cupping it by the bottom. Moving to the center of the pinnace, swaying with the motion of the boat, Rodrigo raised the balloon into the air, holding it as high as he could reach.
The three bat riders were again taking aim.
“Rigo, get down!” Miri pleaded.
“In a minute,” he said, gazing up at the balloon, oblivious to anything else.
Miri grit her teeth and aimed her pistol at the Bottom Dwellers. She wouldn’t hit anything. They were too far away, out of range. She felt the need to do something.
“Ah … there…” Rodrigo breathed gently. “You see? Look at that!”
Miri stared in wonder at the magical blue glow starting to radiate from the balloon, lighting up the pinnace, glittering in the air.
Green balls of flame sizzled through the Breath. Miri ducked behind the helm. The green fireballs struck the blue glow … and the contramagic disintegrated. The flames fell harmlessly around the pinnace in sparkling green drops.
“It works!” Rodrigo cried. “Did you see that, Miri? It works!”
He sounded completely amazed.
“You mean you didn’t know if it would?” Miri gasped.
“My reasoning was quite sound,” said Rodrigo. “I needed to put it to the test. I’ve been thinking about magic and how it reacts with contramagic and it occurred to me that if there is indeed a connection between the two, then that connection should work both ways. Contramagic erases constructs and neutralizes magic, like an alkali does to an acid. The problem is, I kept focusing on the effect that contramagic has on constructs when I should have been concentrating on how the two coexist…”
Miri had no idea what he was talking about. She muttered, “Yes, yes” every so often and went on with her work. The pinnace was drawing closer to the island. The bat riders were still out there, reloading, probably puzzled as to why their attack had failed.
Rodrigo paused to make some adjustments to the balloon, then prattled on.
“Granted, it takes a lot more magic to neutralize contramagic, but it can be done. Since magic is inherent in the lift gas in the balloon I drew a construct that would project that magic into a shield—”
Miri interrupted. “Fascinating. How long will the shield last?”
“Ah, that’s a good question,” said Rodrigo, gazing up at the balloon. “Since I have never created such a complex construct before, I can’t say. Those hits weakened it. I
can try to shore it up, but I’m not sure how long that will last. How far are we from the refinery?”
“Not far,” said Miri.
The bat riders had flown out of range to reload their weapons. Now the three were coming back to the attack, swooping around the pinnace. Miri crouched down behind the helm. The blue shield held; the green flames struck it and scattered like starbursts. Miri was elated. Rodrigo shook his head dejectedly and began hurriedly tracing lines on the balloon.
“My constructs are breaking down and the lift gas is leaking out. I can’t do much more to repair them.”
“If you can hold the bat riders off for just a little longer, we should reach the island,” said Miri, eyeing the distance to the refinery, which was shortening rapidly.
“What about the return trip?” Rodrigo asked. “I’ll need to fill the balloon with lift gas again. The attacks are depleting it. Will there be enough gas left to fill the balloon and carry us to the Sommerwind?”
Miri glanced over her shoulder at the black ship and the attendant bat riders. The black ship had reached the cluster of islands and was having to negotiate its way through the narrow channel. This had slowed the ship’s progress, but wouldn’t slow the bat riders if they decided to come after them.
“We have to calculate the weight of the survivors, the amount of lift gas I’ve already put into the balloon, the amount we used traveling to the island, the amount we’ll need to make the trip back…” Miri gave a little sigh.
“Well?” Rodrigo asked worriedly.
Miri smiled. “Rigo, no matter what happens, you are my hero. I’d give you a hug, but I can’t leave the helm.”
“What you are saying by not saying is that there won’t be enough lift gas,” said Rodrigo glumly. A thought occurred to him. “The refinery makes the liquid form of the gas! We can use that!”
Miri gave a noncomittal nod, not wanting to shatter his hopes. The lift tank on the pinnace was constructed to carry only gas. She couldn’t figure any possible way to fill the tank with liquid.
“One worry at a time,” Miri told herself. “After all, we may not even live long enough to care.”
The three bat riders were flying in for another attack. This time, when the green fire struck the magical shield, the blue glow was noticeably weaker. The balloon was shrinking. The bat riders must have grown frustrated. They veered off, flying back to the other side of the island.
Storm Riders Page 59