Aubrey started. ‘You know who I am?’
‘I was told to expect you.’ He raised an eyebrow. ‘And I was told that you aren’t actually a traitor.’
Aubrey went to shake, but Galloway declined. ‘You won’t need greasy hands, not where you’re going. Now,’ he consulted a clipboard, ‘you’ve been given one of the new specials, a T16 Merlin Scout. Faster and more responsive than anything you’ve flown before. No armaments, I’m afraid, but I’ve been told you’ve made your own arrangements on that front.’
‘In a manner of speaking.’
Galloway slapped the fuselage. ‘Good, good. The Merlin’s also capable of being pressurised, as we understand you’ll be flying the crate at its limits.’
‘I won’t be doing the piloting,’ Aubrey said.
‘I will,’ Caroline said, taking off her motorcycle helmet and donning a leather flying helmet. ‘Tell me more.’
‘Right you are. Tech specs are here.’ He handed the documents to Caroline. ‘But I have no idea if they’re worth anything any more.’
‘I beg your pardon?’ Aubrey had to shout as a sluggish, partly filled airship droned slowly overhead, lines dangling and effectively being towed by a lorry.
Galloway pointed to the three black-clad operatives who were clustered about the tailfins of the Merlin. ‘Your magical chaps. They’ve been working hard, applying their mumbo-jumbo all over the place. They muttered something about altitude enhancements and controlled levitation, but it’s all nonsense to me. Still, I’m in favour of anything that helps us with those johnnies.’
Galloway jabbed a pen skywards. Cruising steadily, skirting the edge of the city away to the south, was Dr Tremaine’s skyfleet. The ships caught the sun, but were no less ominous for that.
In the hasty moments before they had left Darnleigh House, Aubrey had tried to encapsulate the observations they’d made of the skyfleet in their nearly fatal approach so the advice could help the other attacking units. He stressed the magical nature, and that even though the ships appeared to have no crew they were likely to be deadly, nonetheless. His advice had been to concentrate on the flagship and to be aware that the other ships would do their best to prevent the Sylvia from suffering damage. Ultimately, they were expendable, but Aubrey knew that Dr Tremaine’s magic would ensure they’d be lethal in their protection.
‘We’ll do what we can,’ Aubrey said to Galloway.
‘Good man.’
The magical operatives were both grey with tiredness. They stumbled over their words when they tried to explain what they’d been up to, which didn’t fill Aubrey with confidence.
The older of the two, a steely-eyed woman Aubrey had seen at Darnleigh House working with junior operatives, gestured at the tail assembly. ‘That’s the device. It’s…’ She waved a hand at a brass box, the size of her hand, attached to the underside next to an oil conduit. ‘Enhancing the lift ability of the ornithopter.’
The younger operative reached out and tapped it with a finger. ‘Careful, though. You’ll have to work a spell to control the rate of ascent.’
The older operative squinted at the box. ‘We should have tested it more, you know, but we didn’t have time.’
Again, this wasn’t the sort of assurance Aubrey was after – but he had little choice.
‘Good luck,’ the younger operative said, and immediately the two sought Captain Galloway, who consulted his clipboard and directed them toward the next ornithopter in line.
Galloway rejoined Aubrey and Caroline, who’d finished inspecting the pilot’s controls. ‘We’re done here. You can take off as soon as that signalman gives you the yellow flag.’
Standing on the tarmac twenty yards away was an overalled mechanic with a pair of flags under his arms, goggles on his face and an impressive set of lungs in his chest. He was bellowing over the top of the devil’s chorus of mechanical noise, pointing red flags at the aircraft that were on NO ACCOUNT to move yet. Yellow flags signalled which aircraft were to go and, one by one, four ornithopters gathered themselves and thrashed into the sky, sending dust, twigs and people scattering.
George and Sophie had already piled into the back of the ornithopter, so Aubrey sprinted around to his side and sprang inside, finding, after some fumbling, a place for his rifle. Caroline adjusted her helmet, acknowledged the flag holder with a nod – and was rewarded with a grin, Aubrey noted – and slipped into her seat. ‘Buckle up,’ she said needlessly and, before she had any further comment, they were all driven back into their seats by the violence of their take-off.
74
The clamouring of the wings and the hammering of the engine was always at its greatest during climbing, so Aubrey sat as mutely as his friends, and prepared himself.
All the other ornithopter crews were under the same orders: to do what they could to stop Dr Tremaine using magical and more direct means. To most of the pilots, that meant engaging in aerial combat. Some were determined to board the skyfleet ships and wreak enough havoc to destroy them. Aubrey was happy for them to attempt all this and more but, having been close to the skyfleet and seen how large each of the ships was, he wondered if they could be brought down by conventional means. Their aborted inspection of the ships suggested that they had many of the qualities of regular vessels, but he was keen to get nearer to see if assuming concrete substance had left the cloudstuff skyfleet vulnerable.
He shook his head. Dr Tremaine’s goal wouldn’t be thwarted by scuttling his fleet. His magic had to be stopped.
But if the other crews could distract Dr Tremaine and keep him occupied, it might give Aubrey and his friends time to find the rogue sorcerer. Then it was up to Aubrey and his magic bullet.
The Armourer at Darnleigh House had enough Symons rifles for Aubrey to take his pick. All of them had been well fired-in and were perfectly maintained, in much better condition than the unfortunate Oberndorf that von Stralick had purloined from that farmhouse. Aubrey had taken a handful of. 303 shells and, as Caroline herded the shuddering aircraft skyward, he plucked one of them from his pocket.
It had been the rifle that had let him down at Dr Tremaine’s retreat, bursting like that. He was confident that the principle – and his spellwork – was sound. Now that he had good equipment, all he needed was a decent opportunity and he could trap the master sorcerer. He’d be rendered harmless and could be brought to justice, and the people of Trinovant would be safe.
All Aubrey had to do was to concentrate amid the noise and movement of an ascending ornithopter, then cast a series of fiendishly difficult spells, and make a magic bullet.
75
The rubbery nature of time was always brought home to Aubrey when he worked on magic. The intensity of his focus and the intellectual effort needed to shape magic meant that time either slipped past or ground to a halt. This time, when he was done and the Symons had the powerful spell in its breech, he became aware of his surroundings again just as the sound of the wings changed. Instead of all his weight being on his back, pressing him into his seat, he found himself leaning forward. They were levelling off. ‘That’s our ceiling,’ Caroline announced. ‘The Merlin won’t go any higher.’
Aubrey peered out of the window. The earth was far away, Trinovant spread out in all directions from the heart of the city to the faraway outskirts blending into countryside. He could see the other ornithopters labouring upward, all trying to gain altitude.
He tilted his head. Dr Tremaine’s skyfleet was still thousands of feet overhead and maintaining its steady course: a great circle taking it right around the city of Trinovant, from Lambshome in the south to Parmenter in the east, Mayfield in the north and Marbury in the west.