The dryad looked up suddenly. She had been staring into the depths of the black glass sphere. “Aye, Captain,” she whispered. The wind picked up behind them, pushing them to greater speed.
“I should go down there,” Gerith said, peering over the rail.
“What are you talking about, Snowshale?” Dalan said.
“All those people!” Gerith said, gesturing out at the city. “What if we can’t stop Marth? They need to know what’s about to happen! Someone has to warn them.”
“You want to fly through Sharn on your glidewing and tell people the sky is falling?” Dalan asked.
Gerith looked crestfallen. “When you put it that way, it just sounds stupid,” he said meekly.
Ahead of them, the Seventh Moon dove toward the nearest edge of the massive floating island. A squadron of airships burst from the cloud cover as he approached, speeding toward him. The Seventh Moon banked and climbed higher as bolts of flame and arcs of electricity erupted from the ships.
“Brelish warships,” Tristam said, running to the bow and staring out at the swarming vessels. “Draikus must have sent word ahead.”
“Maybe they’ll buy us time to catch up,” Pherris said.
“Or maybe they’ll just get themselves killed,” Zed replied.
The air, though already bitterly cold, grew even colder as a shockwave of white energy erupted from the core of Marth’s ship. The Legacy’s power washed over the attacking airships. The elemental fire that supported a dozen of the closest vessels vanished in an instant. The remaining ships scattered, the fleet thrown into disarray by the Legacy’s incredible power. Terrified screams drifted upon the thin air as airships plummeted toward the city below. A gleaming fissure appeared in the shining clouds of Skyway. Cracks began to spread through the floating island.
“Flame forgive us all,” Zed whispered. “We’re too late.”
“Not yet,” Tristam said. “Skyway was built to be self sustaining. If we can stop him quickly, the island will repair itself.”
“We aren’t going to catch him at this rate,” Pherris said.
Even as he spoke, the Legacy’s wave washed over them and the Karia Naille gained speed. The ship’s elemental ring burned pure white, crackling with raw energy. The airship surged higher, moving above and behind the Seventh Moon. Far beneath them, Tristam could see the Cyran soldiers on the deck shouting and pointing upward. Marth stood in their midst, his pale hair and face a marked contrast to the others.
“We need to get closer,” Tristam said, holding his wand in one hand and a flask in the other.
Pherris nodded, but even as the ship descended, the Moon banked suddenly to starboard. The Mourning Dawn soared on ahead, still descending.
“He’s coming around,” Zed said.
“Trying to get behind us so he can shoot us down,” Pherris muttered, fighting to mirror the Moon’s maneuver.
The smaller airship struggled to veer about as the Moon came around behind her. A searing blast of electricity erupted from the warship’s bow, singing the Mourning Dawn’s hull. Tristam cursed. The winds were fierce this high above Sharn, rendering their flasks and crossbows nearly useless. Marth could elude them forever, whittling them down to nothing with his lightning. The Mourning Dawn was forced to gain altitude, pulling out of the Seventh Moon’s range.
The Moon sped past them again, toward the heart of Skyway. Another burst of energy erupted from the ship’s heart as the Legacy activated a second time. The cracks that threatened the floating island began to spread. Tristam could see the taller buildings of Skyway tremble as a tremor shook the district.
“If we get close, he’ll just circle around and blast us again,” Zed said. “We’ve got nothing to stop him at this altitude unless we just plan to crash into him.”
Tristam looked up. An idea struck him.
“Get him behind us again, Captain,” Tristam shouted, running back below deck, “but stay above him!”
Pherris gave him a dubious look, but complied. The Mourning Dawn dove again. Moments later, another bolt of lightning narrowly missed its keel strut as the Moon moved to pursue again. Tristam emerged on the deck, holding the life ring he had taken from the Seventh Moon. He looked down at the pursuing airship and hefted the ring in one hand.
“What are you doing, Tristam?” Dalan asked.
“Jumping onto the Seventh Moon,” he said. “We have to stop Marth somehow.”
“How do you plan to come back?” Zed asked.
“I’ll worry about that later,” Tristam said with a crooked smile. “This can only carry four. Who’s coming with me?”
Omax had already seized one side of the ring. Seren quickly grabbed another. Zed, Ijaac, and Eraina all reached for the remaining handle.
Shaimin had already grasped it.
TWENTY-FOUR
The black sphere in Marth’s hand seethed with bitter cold. The smell of burnt ozone singed the air. Below him, the city of Sharn was thrown into chaos. Already he could see fires erupting in the lower reaches of the city from the crashed airships. Alarm bells echoed throughout Skyway. Lights flickered in the buildings ahead as citizens roused from their slumber. The Brelish airships, thrown into chaos, pursued the Seventh Moon at a distance. They were hardly even worth concern.
Only one other vessel could dare share the sky with him now. The Mourning Dawn soared high above, narrowly rolling to one side as another bolt of lightning erupted from the Moon’s bow.
A soldier laughed as he watched the Dawn dodge and weave high above them. “Why did she come back down?” he said, laughing to a comrade. “They don’t have any real weapons. They don’t have a chance against us.”
Marth looked sharply back up at the ship. That was an excellent question. Why would Pherris Gerriman put his ship in their range again? It wasn’t like the gnome to do something so suicidal.
It was a trick.
“Veer to port!” Marth shouted urgently.
The Seventh Moon rolled to one side. Marth staggered to keep his balance. In the starlight, he thought he saw something fall past the ship’s rail. He allowed himself a smile, wondering if Xain had attempted to board his ship. What a strangely ignominious end, to fall to his death over the same city he had hoped to save.
“Watch the Mourning Dawn carefully,” Marth commanded. “Keep her behind us, where she is useless. Captain Gerriman can watch us destroy Sharn if he so desires. He is no threat. Helmsman, take us to the center of Skyway.”
The ship gained speed again, soaring deeper into Sharn. Marth saw lights rising from the floating island like hornets stirred from their nest. Some were the burning rings of airships, flying out to reinforce the fleet. Others might be skycoaches attempting to flee the city or even the gleaming staves of wizards flying under the power of their own magic. A squad of swift Brelish airships darted up from the streets below, soaring toward the Moon in formation.
The airships attacked with a desperate volley of fire, lightning, and raw arcane power. The changeling’s hand tightened around the glass sphere, and the Legacy lashed out. The magical energy dissipated before ever reaching the Moon. The airships dropped from the sky like dead birds. Marth frowned. Wouldn’t the men and women aboard those ships have known their attack was suicide?
In their position, he supposed, he would have done the same.