The Final Faith breached the Dragonfire at dawn, just as the dwelf had predicted. Four airships as black as Long Night nosed into the lost, each of them emblazoned with the crossed circle of the church Kali knew all too well. But much as she hated everything that symbol stood for, she could not fault the machines behind it. Because while their airships differed from those of elven design — being uglier, ribbed things with more primitive gondolas and with rotors turned by steam rather than amberglow — they were nonetheless similarly and equally functional to the Old Race vessels that had inspired them.
The lead ship was larger and more ornate than its companions — the Kesar, Voivode and Rhodon respectively — and sported a huge gondola lifted by a double gasbag with two huge, thrumming rotors driving it from behind. This was obviously the flagship and its status was reflected in the name Kali could make out on its side: Makennon.
It wasn't the ship that drew her attention, though, but the figure she could just make out standing at its prow before a contingent of shadowmages. Even at this distance, a familiar blonde mane of hair could clearly be seen billowing behind the figure as it stared ahead.
"It's your sister," Kali said. "Back to mop up the mess she started."
"Then it's time we were on the move," the archer said. "You got a name for this thing yet?"
"Thought we might call it the Tharnak."
"Nice.
Kali followed Slowhand onto the Tharnak and, with a nod to everyone, decoupled the clamps securing it to the gantry.
"Aldrededor?"
"I am ready, Kali Hooper. All we need is a destination."
Actually, there are two, Kali thought.
The first had been obvious — Andon because she had to get the prism to the League — but the second had proven difficult. In fairness, it wasn't every day she had to work out where on the peninsula she could hide a spaceship. The problem lay in the fact that their civilisation was growing all the time, and there was no guarantee that any choice made today might not be encroached upon in a month's time, six months or a year, as both Vos and Pontaine continued to vie for dominance across their limited land. But at last she had decided. There was one place where they were unlikely to ever go. An inhospitable and downright pitsing dangerous place that defied any attempt at settlement and with which she'd had passing acquaintance. And there, in its vast sprawl, one specific location. An Old Race site that had once had a deadlier purpose but, since its destruction, would provide them with an underground harbour that should keep the ship safe for as long as needed.
"Andon and then east. We're taking this thing into the Sardenne — to the Spiral of Kos."
Aldrededor nodded in approval. Then his eyes closed. A second later, the Tharnak stirred, the thin traceries of hull visible between its thread funnels glowing brightly with their restored amberglow charge. There was a barely perceptible vibration in the ship and then the thread funnels themselves began to slowly move until the hull rippled like the reptilian hide it resembled. Dolorosa gasped as the Tharnak's wings shifted slightly and Kali could hardly blame her — because the ship seemed alive beneath them.
"Take her up, Captain." Kali ordered.
Aldrededor concentrated and the Tharnak rose unsteadily from its cradle, tipping left and right as the ex-pirate became used to the feel of it. The sensation of leaving the ground — becoming airborne — was, Kali had to admit, a little unnerving. Even Slowhand, who had already flown, clung to the deck rails, his knuckles white. Though that, Kali suspected, might have had more to do with the fact that he and Jenna were about to become mortal enemies in a confrontation only one of them might survive.
Aldrededor steadied the ship, the ex-pirate growing more confident in its handling, before turning it towards the approaching airships. It was a manoeuvre that shifted perspective in a way that Kali had never experienced before and that first she found discomforting and dizzying, but then exhilarating.
Watching the walkway skew away beneath the ship, and then the horizon tip diagonally, Kali felt an overwhelming sense of how impossible her current situation seemed. She'd come across many artefacts that were beyond her ken but she couldn't help but wonder how the people of the peninsula might react if they knew that a battle for their future was about to be fought between airships and a flying machine here at the top of the world.
The Final Faith airships were clear now and, sure enough, their decks swarmed with figures, all gathering at their rails to stare at the Crucible's remains. The fact that she and the k'nid had done their job for them would not, Kali suspected, garner a grateful slap on the back and, equally sure enough, once the situation sank in, all eyes — including the coldly narrowing ones of Jenna — turned in the direction of the Tharnak. Kali wondered what she made of the strangely shaped craft, and whether, for a moment, she might reconsider her intent and call a truce to examine this remarkable find.
As the ships began to move towards them Kali stared at the Tharnak's controls. "I wonder if any of these farking things are weapons?"
Aldrededor spoke from the piloting panel. "Have no fear, Kali Hooper — we have other means to defend ourselves.
"We do?"
"We have the ship itself. Or rather, how it flies."
"You mean use the threads?"
"Indeed. The Tharnak stimulates them, and if we can fly close enough to the enemy ships we should be able to disrupt their stability, bring them down."
"Sounds good. But you've only just learned how to pilot this thing. Are you sure you — ?"
Kali and the others wrapped themselves around rails as the Tharnak executed a perfect roll, three hundred and sixty degrees, leaving a reddened Dolorosa clutching her skirt about her knees when it righted itself.
"Convincing," Kali said, swallowing. "Do it."
Aldrededor winked and concentrated once more. The gap between the Tharnak and the airships closed rapidly. On the decks of the airships crewmen and shadowmages yelled in shock and surprise and, for a fleeting second as they hove in on the Makennon, Kali caught sight of Jenna frowning before racing along the deck, barking orders to her people.
All hells broke loose.
As the Tharnak drew level with the flotilla, the shadowmages aboard the Makennon and its sister ships began to weave their powerful magic. Suddenly the sky was filled with bolts of lightning, fire and ice. It was a devastating barrage and had Aldrededor not deftly manoeuvred their ship out of the way, the battle would have been over before it had begun. Having avoided the first barrage, the Sarcrean quickly brought the ship in close to the Rhodon, before veering suddenly away to starboard. The resultant play of the threads rippled along the sides of the Rhodon's gasbag like a squall wind and the moorings of the cloth tore away in places, leaving flapping wrents in the envelope. The Rhodon lurched suddenly, narrowly avoided collision with the Voivode.
Aldrededor wasted no time. As the Voivode pulled up to avoid its sister ship, the Sarcrean brought the Tharnak about, climbed, and then headed bow to bow with the second craft, intending to climb once more at the last second, generating a thread wave to slap the enemy ship down. The Voivode was more prepared than her sister ship, however, and even as the Tharnak headed towards her, the shadowmages had already discharged a volley of defensive magic, expanding circles of fire that would have been difficult to avoid even without the fireballs that accompanied them. Rather than take their impact on the most vulnerable area of the ship, the prow, Aldrededor did the only thing he could and swung the Tharnak around hard, flinging Kali and the others against the rails. The sky steadied itself after a second and Kali realised that while they had been forced to turn and run, they had still managed to inflict damage on the Voivode, which was bucking violently in their thread wake. She had no doubt that the same thought had already occurred to the Sarcrean, but she voiced it anyway.
"Aldrededor. Accelerate, now."
The air behind them rippled with distortions as their slipstream kicked into overdrive. The Voivode flew into the disturbance and was instantly kicked back, spiralling out of control towards the valley walls. Kali had to give its pilot their due, because they managed to regain some control before the ship impacted. Even so, the Voivode found itself colliding with, and badly snarling on, some of the sharper, projecting rocks.
It was their second victory but any element of surprise their manoeuvrability had granted them was gone, now, and even before Dolorosa had finished yelling and punching the air, the Kesar was heading in on their bow, moving hull to hull and tight against them on an opposed heading. It was a manoeuvre clearly meant to give the shadowmages already clustering at its rails chance to rake their energies along the Tharnak's side and Kali knew there was no way they would be able to avoid damage.
It was time to give Aldrededor a helping hand.
Unslinging the crackstaff, Kali lodged herself against the rails and let loose a burst of energy towards the nearing shadowmages. However she found she had underestimated them as, one by one, they deflected the incoming charges with hastily erected shields, ricocheting it back in her direction.
"Hooper, go for the envelope," Slowhand urged, suddenly beside her. "I'll cover you."
Kali didn't question the archer, immediately bracing the crackstaff and angling it upwards just as the Kesar nosed into range.
The shadowmages spotted what she was trying to do as she aimed and prepared to launch another volley at her. But before they could loose their magical assault, they fell to the deck bucking and screaming as Slowhand unleashed rapid volleys from Suresight. His arrows provided Kali with the cover she needed, and she used the time to unleash a raking assault from the crackstaff, moving it slowly and determinedly across the enemy airship and tearing a gash in its envelope Suddenly venting gas, the Kesar tipped violently and, amidst much scrabbling and screaming, the shadowmages tumbled from the gondola to fall through the trees to the valley floor below.
"Hah!" Dolorosa shouted after them. "Thatta is whatta you get fora working with the Final Feelth!"
Aldrededor banked the Tharnak to starboard, pulling away from the battlegroup and the Makennon, taking advantage of the chaos to head for the Dragonfire rather than challenge the superior ship of the Faith flotilla.
Unfortunately, the Makennon had not been idle while he had outmanoeuvred her smaller sisterships, bringing its heavier bulk about in a manoeuvre that was perfectly timed. Even as the Tharnak's bow turned to the Dragonfire, Jenna's flagship came seemingly out of nowhere to loom massively and directly in front of them, nose to nose, blocking their way to the exit from the valley, their artillery trained on the Old Race craft.
The message was clear
You want a fight? I'll give you a fight.
Kali moved to the front of the deck and found herself in direct eye contact with Jenna. Seeing Kali, Slowhand's sister smiled coldly. Slowhand came to stand by Kali's side, but if the archer had any hope at all of his sister's resolve weakening in his presence, it was dashed as her smile failed to falter.
"I see Fitch hasn't returned with her," Kali said through clenched teeth. "You still think there's no chance we can talk her round?"
"Hooper, the fact Fitch hasn't returned with her answers that one. Look at her — that cadaverous bastard's job is done."
Kali swallowed. She could tell that Jenna was actually enjoying this moment.
"Back us up," Kali said to Aldrededor. "Gently."
The Tharnak began to slowly reverse. Slowhand looked at Kali questioningly and, on the Makennon, Jenna frowned. But then with a wave of her hand she ordered the Makennon to follow them. Keeping the ships nose to nose.
"Keep going," Kali said.
"Hooper, what the hells are you doing?"
"Keep going."
The Tharnak continued to reverse and the Makennon followed her. Had they continued the game that way, they could have played all day, nudging through the valley, but then Slowhand spotted something that would soon put paid to their backward flight.
"Er, Hooper…" he said.
Kali turned and saw that, behind them, the Rhodon, Voivode and Kesar, scarred and damaged though they were, had taken up positions in their path, enclosing them in an arrowhead formation. And those shadowmages that had survived the first assault lined their rails ready to unleash a fresh assault.
Jenna seemed to have them exactly where she wanted them.
"Bring us to a stop." Kali said.
"So what now?" Slowhand asked. When Kali didn't answer, he added, "Hooper, she's an expert tactician. There's no shame in being outmanoeuvred."
Kali looked at the archer, but couldn't hold his gaze. Had she been facing anyone but his sister her next move would have been delivered with some degree of satisfaction but -
"I'm sorry, Liam."
"For what?"
"Finishing what you started."
"I don't understand."
"For once," Dolorosa elaborated, "the bossa lady did not make it up as she went along."
Slowhand stared at the two women as they moved to the ship's rails. He looked down. Below them, a great number of small, wavering flames were visible in the treetops, covering the canopy like stars. Slowhand knew instantly what he was seeing and snapped a look at Dolorosa and Kali — just as they raised their arms and dropped them down.
From the cover of the jungle more than a hundred burning arrows were unleashed by yassan archers and arced upward towards the three smaller airships, puncturing their envelopes and firing their rigging and gondolas A second volley came, firing those parts of the ships untouched by the first wave and doubling the damage. There was no escape and nowhere to hide from the devastating rain and, as the third volley filled the sky, it was intermingled with a renewed chorus of panicked and agonised screams. Their was nothing the shadowmages could do to prevent the surprise attack, though some of them tried, sweeping the jungle canopy with energy bolts that cut a swathe through the vegetation. But for every Yassan that was caught, three more still wielded their bows and the shadowmages themselves became targets, falling to their arrows. It took only seconds before the Rhodon, Voivode and Kesar were little more than flying funeral pyres and then they were only pyres, not flying at all.
Kali watched the remains of the airships spiral down into the jungle. Only the Makennon remained. As the flagship hung there, the yassan archers emerged fully from their cover, and once more Dolorosa and Kali raised their arms. All across the jungle canopy the Yassan waited poised. Kali and Dolorosa swallowed and turned to Slowhand, their arms stayed, awaiting the archer's word. Aldrededor, too, turned. The decision — the word — had to be his.
For his part, Slowhand simply moved up to stare across the gap between ships, his mane of blonde hair blowing in the wind. Across that gap, her own hair blowing and eyes defiant and unblinking, Jenna stared back.
A second — an eternity — passed.
The archer's jaw tensed.
"Fire!"
Their eyes tearing, aware of the enormity of the decision Slowhand had just made, Dolorosa and Kali dropped their arms, and the volley of arrows turned the flagship into a flying inferno within a matter of moments. While Dolorosa had not had much time to train the yassan, train them well enough she obviously had, because amidst the volley, certain arrows did not randomly target the ship itself but instead those members of the crew manning the cannon, dropping them as they prepared to return fire.
Finally, the bow of the Makennon began to dip.
As Dolorosa pointed out, to a chorus of curses, the flagship of the Final Faith, while indeed beginning a slow dive, did not seem to be diving fast enough. Its angle and rate of descent was sluggish and lumbering, perhaps fitting of a ship its size. This was not a problem in itself but a problem did lie in the fact that that same angle and rate of descent was forcing her stern upward. If it continued as it did it would soon flip completely over toward the Tharnak. If it hit, it would swat the ancient spaceship out of the sky.
Aldrededor was visibly struggling to pull the Tharnak out of its path. As the Final Faith flagship continued to nose heavily downwards, the ex-pirate finally managed to force the Tharnak into the beginnings of a climb. It seemed they might make it — but it was going to be close. Close enough, in fact, that they found themselves able to watch the last moments of the Makennon and her crew in intimate detail.
Pulling up even as the Makennon angled down, the Tharnak flew along the Makennon's deck, finely manoeuvring through the metal ribcage that had supported its all but burned out envelope. As they accelerated past they could see just how much damage the yassan archers' arrows had done.
Kali watched Slowhand watching the deck of the Makennon, following the actions of his sister amid the chaos rapidly developing there. It was testimony to Jenna's command skills that the ordinary crewmen still followed her orders — though the contingent of shadowmages aboard had already succumbed to panic — trying to beat back the flames despite the fire's inevitable triumph. Jenna strode the deck as if she could restore the Makennon's flightworthiness though, even at a distance, Kali and Slowhand could see the strain thinning and greying her face. But, in the end, Jenna had little choice other than to accept the ship's doom. The sheer amount of collapsing rigging, support struts and explosions defeating any effort that could be made to stay what had to come. And at last it happened. A combination of spreading fire and detonations that conspired to separate the ribbing and remains of the envelope from the gondola completely.
The Makennon began to fall to jungle below.
Jenna faced her demise with dignity, anchoring herself at the airship's wheel and standing steadfast The last thing Slowhand saw before she was obscured by the overturning hull was his sister staring directly into his eyes.
Goodbye, brother. I wish I knew what might have been.
"She's going to clip us!" Kali shouted over the roar of the dying ship as its tail swung towards the Tharnak. Even as Aldrededor struggled to gain more height there was a bone-shaking vibration that juddered the ancient craft right to its core, throwing Kali, Slowhand and Dolorosa to the deck.
As the Sarcrean struggled at the control panel there was a dull boom from the underside of the ship and the amberglow layer beneath the thread funnels crackled and darkened.
"We have lost the use of half of the funnels on our port side and a third on our starboard, Kali Hooper. The retro funnels are gone completely. Though we have some limited manoeuvrability remaining, I fear it is not enough to enable us to negotiate the Dragonfire."
"We're going to crash?"
"We are going to crash."
Behind her, Slowhand slammed his palms onto the rail and walked to the Tharnak's stern, staring down at the smouldering remains of the three smaller airships and the Makennon, reflecting with a certain calm that perhaps it had indeed been fated that he and his sister should die together.
They were going down and what they needed was a miracle.
What neither he, or anyone else aboard expected, was that they got one.
From the still burning remains of the Crucible, something was rising. Something that, at first, looked like a plume of smoke but, on second glance, turned out to be something else entirely.
It moved more slowly than smoke, for one thing, and seemed to be made up of countless tiny shimmering particles. As all aboard the ship watched, the particles began to coalesce.
For Kali and Slowhand, it reminded them of the dwelf slowly taking shape within its sphere. But this was something quite different. A long, undulating worm-like was body was forming, kept aloft by majestic wings that stretched far and wide.
The red eyes of the creature regarded them. Then the dragon flew towards them.
"Oh, shit." Killiam Slowhand said.
"Great Grandma of the Gods." Aldrededor and Dolorosa breathed together.
Only Kali said nothing and smiled to herself, knowing what was actually happening. This was what the dwelf had meant when he'd said that there had been one last thing he had to do. Whatever technology and magics he had left — and she suspected this was more magic than technology — the doomed ancient one had somehow reconnected them to the dying Crucible and produced at last the one creature of peninsulan legend they had never recreated. Why he was doing this now, she didn't know, and nor did she know how much of the dwelf's consciousness existed in his creation but, in the end, it didn't matter. As its people watched in awe from the jungle canopy, the Dragon God rose over them.
"It's coming right at us!" Slowhand warned.
"There is nothing I can do," Aldrededor confessed.
"I don't think it means us harm," Kali said. "It might even be coming to help…"
"Help?" Slowhand repeated.
"A-ha. Look."
Slowhand and the others did, but not for long, as they were too busy ducking. Because despite Kali's assurance, they could not help but instinctively drop as the massive creature flew directly at the ship and then swooped overhead, so close that the downdraught from its wings beat the air around them. As they watched in amazement, the claws attached themselves to the Tharnak and pulled the entire craft up beneath it, towards its belly, as if for protection. As soon as the ship was secure the creature proceeded to fold its vast wings about the craft, pulling it in tight.
The very last thing they saw, before the creature entirely enfolded the craft, was the Dragonfire before them.
"Hold tight!" Kali shouted. "It's taking us through!"
"What the hells do you mean, taking us through?" Slowhand screeched.
"Slowhand, sometimes you've just got to have a little faith!"
Faith and a pretty good sense of balance, Kali thought to herself. Because for the next few seconds — but what seemed like an eternity — she and the others found themselves being flung from one side of the deck to the other as the creature manoeuvred through the cave system. And then, suddenly, they were through.
The dragon's wings opened and the Tharnak was lowered by its claws, and they found themselves being flown high along the pass.
"My Gods!" Slowhand said.
"No," Kali corrected. "Their God."
The archer, like the others, looked to the rails, and saw the yassan emerging from a hundred cave mouths along the pass. As the Dragon passed over them they fell to their knees and emitted a great roar of worship that resounded deafeningly through the mountains. And as it did, the dragon's long neck waved slowly from side to side, as if in acknowledgement.
"This is the moment that they — that their ancestors — have waited countless years for," Kali said. "In a strange way, in believing what they did, they were right all along."
"I hate to spoil the moment," Slowhand pointed out, looking somewhat less elated than Kali, "but while they may have been right, something here is wrong."
"What are you talking about?"
"Well, for one thing, our friend here isn't letting go."
Kali looked up, and frowned. "I'm sure it will soon."
"No, bossa lady, it is more than that," Dolorosa said. The ex-piratess had climbed up on a rail to examine the creature more closely and she, too, frowned. "Look atta this," she added, nodding at a scabrous wound that seemed to be spreading by the second all along its underside. "Eet is injured."
"Hardly surprising," Aldrededor said. "Our passage through the Dragonfire was a rough one."
"Except only its outside hit the walls," Kali pointed out.
Slowhand bit his lip. "Hooper, are you saying — ?"
Kali nodded. "Nothing except the k'nid can survive outside the valley."
"Then we are in trouble, Kali Hooper," Aldrededor piped in. "Because as my wife would say, we 'havva another problem'."
"What, Aldrededor?"
"Perhaps you and Mister Slowhand would care to take a look over the side."
"Ohhhh, fark," the archer said.
"You can say that again," Kali answered.
"Ohhhh, fark."
The curse was wholly appropriate. Whilst they had all been speaking, not only had the dragon flown them out of the pass and beyond the Drakengrat Mountains but it had also, for its own reasons, climbed. Features on the landscape below were now little more than dots, the dragon having gained at least a thousand metres in height.
A thousand metres.
And it was still climbing.