“Why, that is the room where the spelljamming engine is housed, since the engine must be close to the paddlewheel shafts to turn the-”
“Well, how does the bridge tell it what to do?” Teldin asked, sensing that he was getting an elaborately circular explanation.
“Ah,” Wysdor said brightly, “that’s the ingenious part of it, because from here we can visually examine our route, then, by means of automated carillon signal system…"
Seeing the human’s confused look, Wysdor stopped and struggled to find a simpler explanation. “By means of signal bells, the bridge tells the engine to go slow or fast,” he finally explained, as if talking to a child.
At least that made sense to Teldin. The clamor on the bridge continued unabated, and Teldin had to shout over the noise for Wysdor to hear him. “So what powers the engine? It was only a chair.”
Wysdor stared at the ceiling as he tried to think of the simple way to describe the process. “This is very hard to explain. According to studies of the Spelljammer’s Guild, the spelljammer engine derives its energy through the absorption of thaumaturgical power, which it then redirects into motive force, which-”
“Eh?” the puzzled human interjected.
Wysdor sighed and tried again. “It, uh, drains spells from our ship’s wizard and uses that power to lift the ship.” The captain looked to see if Teldin understood.
“But I thought you said the paddlewheels moved the ship.” The farmer’s head was hurting again. A bustling gnome carrying a bundle of charts and scrolls squeezed between Teldin’s legs, bound for the admirals.
“The paddlewheels are a vital part of the secondary systems, as are the masts and sails, just in case the engine should fail at some critical time during flight and the need for secondary backup systems becomes apparent, in which case--"
“Ready and away!” Ilwar finally shouted, interrupting
Captain Wysdor’s explanation. Wysdor bobbed a quick bow, ushered everyone to a seat, and hurried to assume his post beside Ilwar, Niggil, and Broz. A hush fell over the assembled gnomes, giving the maiden flight-and first field test-of the new and improved Unquenchable a near-religious significance. Teldin tensed with eager expectation, not really knowing what was supposed to happen.
All at once the silence was shattered by the blaring of clanging bells and ear-shattering whistles. Teldin sprang from his seat. “What’s wrong?” he shouted to anyone who would listen. Gomja stood wincing, his ears pressed tightly against his head.
Instead of answering, the gnomes let loose with a cheer. Their celebration was broken by a violent jerk as the deck suddenly lurched upward, a movement that threw Teldin and the rest of the crew sprawling to the floor. The cloakmaster hit the wooden deck on one shoulder and lay gasping for breath as the reignited pain of his injuries coursed along his nerves like molten fire. Only Gomja, feet widespread and knees braced, remained standing. With one big hand, the giff easily hoisted the numb human back to his feet.
The deck wobbled underfoot. Eager and fearful, Teldin joined the gnomes crowding around the portholes. Tall enough to stand in the back, the human was able to look over the assembled heads as the gnomes jumped up and down, fighting for a glimpse of the outdoors. Beyond the edges of the deck, the crater lake’s dark water slowly receded. The Unquenchable was airborne.
And headed straight for the neogi deathspider, Teldin noted when he raised his eyes to the horizon. “Gomja!” he shouted. “What’s the plan for getting past the enemy?”
Gomja pushed his way over to Teldin and shouted over the pinging racket the Unquenchable made. “Plan? I assume the improvements to speed the gnomes made on the helm will let us easily outrun the neogi ship, sir.”
“Improvements to speed?” Admiral Niggil spoke up, overhearing their exchange. “Oh, no, no, no. We improved the sound and color of the helm, not the speed, since- Teldin and Gomja looked at him with expressions of fear on their faces. “Admiral,” Teldin practically screamed, “that’s a neogi ship out there! How do you expect to get past it?”
The impractical Niggil looked at the human with a pained and confused look on his face. “But why should they chase us? This is only a scientific-”
“Gods, Gomja, we’ve got to do something!” Teldin yelled as he comprehended the gnomes’ utter naivete. The giff nodded in agreement, still stunned to find the gnomes so unprepared. Out the fore porthole, Teldin could see that the deathspider had already started into motion. The slender legs were beginning to open, ready to receive the onrushing Unquenchable. Teldin grabbed Niggil, practically lifting the little gnome off the floor. “Niggil-that deathspider. What are you going to do?”
The gnome sputtered and kicked, as unprepared for Teldin’s assault as he was for the attacking ship. Furious, Teldin pushed Niggil aside and grabbed Ilwar. “The deathspider!” Teldin yelled at him, pointing at the approaching ship.
The stately Ilwar looked out the window. His brownish skin went pale at the sight of the voracious neogi ship bearing down on the lumbering Unquenchable. “Oh, dear,” Ilwat mumbled, awestruck by the vision. “They mean to attack us, don’t they?”
The answer to Ilwar’s question came as a shattering boom mingled with the grating screech of tearing metal. The Unquenchable heaved forward and everyone, Gomja included, slid to the back of the bridge as the bow suddenly angled upward. As the portholes flashed by, Teldin caught glimpses of the deathspider’s metal legs wrap around the Unquenchable’s hull in a murderous embrace. The view ended when the farmer thudded into an unyielding mass of arms, legs, chests, and boxes.
Floundering out of the pile of tangled gnomes, Teldin shouted at Gomja over the noise of the groaning hull. “What’s happening?"
“She’s grappled us, sir,” the giff boomed. “Prepare to be boarded!” Gomja grabbed the doorjamb and heaved a group of the gnomes outside.
Teldin staggered across the canted deck to Gomja’s side, dragging Ilwar along by the collar of his uniform. Planting the admiral between himself and the giff, he shouted questions at the dazed gnome. “Do you have weapons aboard-big ones?”
“No, Teldinmooreofkalaman,” Ilwar answered, too dazed to obfuscate. “This is a scientific vessel.”
“Wonderful,” Teldin commented sarcastically. “Then at least keep your spelljammer engine going full-speed reverse to try breaking free.” He let go of the gnome, who scrambled back to the slowly untangling mass of his fellows to pass on commands. “Gomja, we’d better organize something to repel boarders.” The giff nodded in agreement, a smile crossing his face at the thought of battle.
With an easy pull, the big fellow dragged Teldin off the bridge and onto the deck. Up near the bow, they could already see the grappling legs drawing the gnomish ship closer to its hull. Only one leg was firmly embedded in the bow; the others clung precariously to projections along the Unquenchable’s sides. Umber hulks were already clambering through the rigging of the anchored leg, gradually nearing the bow.
“That’s where they intend to attack, sir!” Gomja bellowed over the continuous squeal of grinding metal. None of the other grapples is secure enough to carry a boarding party.
Teldin nodded. “Then that’s where we’ll fight them. Come on.” He charged along the pitching ship’s deck, past masts and cabins, toward the gangways that led to the main deck. As the pair worked their way forward, they corraled every gnome that scrambled into their path. Those Gomja deemed fit to fight joined their growing squad; the rest Teldin curtly ordered to fetch axes and begin work chopping the other grappling arms away.
Teldin and Gomja pressed on, down the gangway and onto the main deck, past the ship’s boat, swinging wildly on its davits, and through the jumble of booms and chains the gnomes used to load cargo. By the time they reached the bow, the two commanders had an ad hoc collection of engineers, deckhands, and scientific types carrying everything from swords to spanners. The little warriors noted the lordservants’ advance with apprehension, but none shirked from his or her duty.