((This cannot stand)) said Cailin to Kaiku privately. ((The Aberrants are approaching fast. We cannot defend against both them and the cannons))
((Then we should get out there and give those ships something else to deal with)) Kaiku thought fiercely, the message expressed in a blaze of images: burning ships, dying men, blistering hands and melting Masks.
((Agreed, I want you on the next ship. The first of our vessels are already beginning to engage the enemy on the sea))
Kaiku sent her a defiant jumble of emotions in response, indicating that she would go when she was gods-damned ready and that she would not be ordered by Cailin. But in her heart, she would be glad to get off the dock where she was little use for anything but intercepting the enemy's missiles. Defence was not her style.
((Then I am asking you, Kaiku)) Cailin said irascibly. ((Will you take the next ship?))
((I will)) she said, because at that moment she spotted Tsata racing up a jetty, and her last reason for staying was removed.
She pushed her way through to the ship that Tsata had boarded. To the north, the feya-kori were engaged in their usual mindless destruction of anything and everything around them, but they were cutting a very definite swathe towards the docks. Shellshot cut through the air overhead, but it was going long and none of the Sisters were interested in stopping it. It smashed into the domed roof of a temple and stove it in with a blaze of smoke and flame.
Another missile got through the Sisters' defences, this time because the sheer volume of artillery was too much for them. It hit the docks in the midst of a swarm of people, most of them Tkiurathi. The explosion ripped bodies apart, sending mutilated limbs skidding across the cracked flagstones, men clawing at their blinded eyes and women flailing on the ground, waving cauterised stumps of flesh that used to be arms and legs.
Kaiku squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, appalled, but she had no time to spend on horror or sympathy, and she pushed on through to the gangplank. Men stumbled past her, supporting the wounded from the burning ship. She smelt the reek of suffering, mixed with the vile, poisonous odour of the feya-kori's miasma, and she used it to fuel her hatred. Breaking free of the crowd, she slipped up the jetty and on to the junk.
There was little space to move on the deck. The sailors were shouting at the Tkiurathi to get below, but few of them obeyed. They were not seafarers, and they did not like the idea of being trapped in a box of wood which was in danger of sinking at any moment. She sought out Tsata, but it was hopeless amongst the mass of tattooed and camouflaged folk.
Other ships were being freed from their moorings up and down the dock now. The remaining craft were filling fast, and Kaiku guessed they would depart close together, for the sailors knew they could not afford to wait any more. The report of cannons bellowed through the air, seeming nearer now than before.
And then suddenly the docks were alive with gunfire as the soldiers of Lalyara opened up on the first of the Aberrants. Sailors on board Kaiku's ship roared the order to cast off, and the sails unfurled along the mast as ropes pulled tight. Tkiurathi on board sought targets for their rifles as the Aberrants appeared.
Massive ghauregs led the charge, smashing into the defenders on the north side of the docks and throwing them aside like broken dolls. Shrillings tore in after them, warbling in their throats as they pounced here and there, taking down men and savaging them; and skrendel slipped between, biting and strangling. They overwhelmed the primary defences by sheer suicidal force. Even after four years, Saramyr soldiers found it hard to stand against an enemy that cared nothing for their own lives. Then the Tkiurathi on the ships opened up, and the predators were cut to pieces in a shredding hail of rifle balls. But the range was long, and some of them survived to engage the remainder of the soldiers. A dockside cathouse, empty now, took a direct hit from one of the Weaver cannons and vomited fiery rubble from its facade. Swords were drawn, rifles barked, and the soldiers fought as best they could, but they knew their cause was hopeless. They were giving their lives so that the ships could get away. They had been ordered to hold this spot and they would die doing so.
Now Kaiku could feel the slow, massive movement of the junk as it caught the wind and the last of its hawsers were cut free. She shoved through the crowd, her mind divided between the communication of the Sisters and the incoming missiles. She let her kana seek Tsata out, following the link between them, the bonds of emotion that existed in a palpable sense within the Weave.
She found him refilling the ignition powder in his rifle from a pouch, just as the pier began to slide away. Another boat to their right had launched ahead of them, a huge, swaying shadow in the murk as it gathered speed. Tsata did not see her as she approached; he was intent on priming and aiming again, picking off the Aberrants that were invading the docks.
One of the junks was not fast enough to escape the tide of teeth and claws, and the creatures swarmed up the gangplank onto the ship; but then it began to move, and the plank fell free, pitching the creatures into the sea. Those few on board were killed, but they took three times their number with them.
Kaiku frowned as she bent her concentration towards a fresh volley from the Weaver ships. There were fewer missiles coming in now, as the Weavers turned their cannons to the junks that were trying to run the blockade; but one of the feya-kori had accelerated in its rampage towards the docks, smashing through the buildings of the city. Though slow, it was not slow enough for Kaiku's liking, and it seemed to know that the ships were escaping and was heading right for them.
Then the pier was behind them and they were out in the harbour. Some of the Aberrants were throwing themselves at the junks, bouncing off their hulls and into the water, where they swam raggedly away. Others were pushed over the edge of the docks by the headlong rush of those behind them.
But they were out of the Aberrants' reach now. The last of the ships had pulled away, and those soldiers that were left on the docks – including several dozen Tkiurathi who had not made it aboard in time – were cut to meat by the Weavers' creatures. The sight was mercifully shrouded by the fog, which gathered ever thicker as they gained distance on the carnage.
There was a moment's respite in the bombardment from the sea, during which Kaiku laid her hand on Tsata's bare shoulder. He was wearing a sleeveless waistcoat of grey hemp, as ever, stitched with traditional patterns. He did not turn, but he laid the hand of his other arm across hers as he stared at the fading outline of the dock.
A burst of alarm across the Weave shocked her out of her brief calm, and she turned her attention to it. It was one of her Sisters, noting that the approaching feya-kori had changed direction, and was no longer heading for the docks but had angled itself out into the sea. Kaiku heard the furious hiss from the fog, the angry boiling and bubbling of the salt water as the feya-kori touched it. A wave rocked the junk to their left, and then Kaiku felt the swell pass underneath their vessel too.
She went cold as she saw the black Weave-shape of the demon ploughing through the waves. It was going to intercept them.
A mournful groan came from the mist, terrifyingly close, and it spread panic across the deck. The ship that had left dock ahead of them was still close on their starboard side. The mist thinned in a swirl of wind and the vast shape of the demon reared out of the water, trailing spray and steam and drooling poison. It rose up, its yellow eyes muted and baleful in the haze, and raised both its enormous arms above its head; then it came down with a thunderous rush of air, onto the junk next to Kaiku's.