“We ain’t got a choice!” Rosh protested. “Bekka can’t do it, you can’t do it, I can’t do it…you think I’m wanting to risk my neck on someone that ain’t never flown before?”
Rosh squeezed Willa’s shoulder encouragingly. “I reckon you can do it. You’re special, and I’ll have words with anyone here that says different.”
His last statement was accompanied with a challenging gaze at each person gathered on the deck in turn. Dexter shook his head, then glanced at Xander. The wizard looked like he was starting to glaze over again.
“Oil’s gonna be soaked into the dirt soon,” Dexter said. “Willa, go sit your pretty behind on the helm and see what happens. You got one shot at it.”
She looked on, wide eyed for a long moment until Dexter made a shooing motion with his hands to get her going. Bekka went over to her and grabbed her hand, leading her below to the helm and talking to her along the way, trying to offer her some hurried advice and suggestions on how to make the connection.
After a long and tense couple of minutes on deck, Dexter cursed and unbuckled his sword belt. He tossed the sheathed weapon to Jenna and turned to head towards the bridge. “That’s one of the few weapons that will hurt those things,” he said over his shoulder while pointing at the small dark cloud of wind spirits high above them.
He paused at the top of the staircase and looked back at them. “Soon as you feel the ship under control, let them things come. Somebody yell when they’re all around us in the oil, then when we lift, throw the alchemist’s fire.”
Dexter started down the stairs but was halted by Bekka coming up from the bottom. “Where’s Willa?” he asked.
“She’s on the helm.”
“And?”
Bekka shook her head, wincing as she did so. “Never seen anything like it,” Bekka said. “I don’t know how she figured it out so quick, but you should have seen her face when she merged with the ship. Like a child with her first sweet.”
“Think she can do it?” Dexter asked her, putting his own surprise behind him.
Bekka shrugged. “She’ll die trying.”
Dexter nodded. “So will the rest of us,” he said darkly, then turned and headed back up the stairs.
The Voidhawk’s Captain caught the tossed sword and buckled it about his waist again. There were nervous smiles around them, save for Xander who was pinching his arm in an attempt to get one last burst of energy to keep him going. Dexter called for everyone to get ready, then told Xander to drop the spell.
With a sigh of relief, Xander, blinked his eyes slowly. When he opened them, he opened his mouth to confirm that it was done but the sounds from around them did it for him. The infected carriers discovered the dropped barrier almost immediately, and rushed towards the ship. There were dozens of them, nearly all of the members of Aidan’s troop as well as many of the Perryns that contracted the magical plague.
The ship rocked as they slammed against the hull. Some tried to climb the struts, something no one had considered. They were part of the hull and did not come up to the edge of the deck, however, a reckless bit of balancing and stretching would allow someone to reach the railing from the struts. Reckless and uncaring of their own safety, the ghouls had to be struck away from the struts as they reached for fresh prey.
“Set sail!” Dexter yelled, praying that Willa was not so caught up in the new sensations that she would fail to hear his order below. His fears were unfounded as, a moment later, the Voidhawk lurched beneath them and rose into the air slowly.
“Now!” Dexter called out, throwing his own cask to the ground.
Jodyne and Bailynn did likewise, while Logan, Rosh, Keshira, and Aidan were busy at clearing each strut. Jenna stayed ready to leap to the aid of anyone who would need it, and found herself rushing forward at one point to assist Aidan as his sword caught in the ribs of a former soldier that tried to scramble aboard.
Flames leapt up below them, sparking up immediately as soon as the casks cracked and allowed fresh air into the alchemical substance. The flames spread rapidly, igniting the oil in the ground and on the feet and legs of their attackers. It climbed up their clothing and bit into the flesh, chewing away at them and making them growl and hiss angrily as their prey escaped into the air above them.
A cheer rose up from the crew, one even shared by Dexter. They cleared the tops of the ruins, with no clinging zombies remaining, and saw no movement below them save for those trapped in the flames. Wind caught the sails, stretching and straining them as they were pulled taught. Improperly repaired, they nevertheless held against the lurch of movement the wind inspired.
“Dex, here they come,” Jodyne said, pointing into the sky.
Those not working the lines looked up and saw the dark streaks leaving the cloud and heading towards them at a speed that made the wind look like it was standing still. Dexter nodded and looked to Bekka, who was holding some loose canvas.
“Xander, got anything to slow them down?” Dexter asked, trotting over to the half-elf and taking the bundle of cloth.
Xander stared for a long minute then nodded. “I can try something,” he mumbled, then hastened up the stern castle himself and reached into his pockets for spell components. Dexter nodded, trusting the man to buy him the time he needed.
Dexter did not spare a glance from his task of tying a rope through several loops in the canvas until he heard a great whooshing noise above him. He looked and had to admit a moment of awe. A sheet of flames sprang up and fanned out in mid-air. It forced the elemental guardians to retreat and go around it, or at least wait until it subsided a few moments later. Either way, it gained the Voidhawk precious time to slip further away and gained both speed and altitude.
Dexter tied his last knot and tested it. Feeling confident but nervous, he stood up with the canvas hanging from the rope he held in his hands. He spun it, lifting it off the deck, and continued to spin faster and faster to help him get it higher. Finally ready, he gave it a final surge of strength and sent it up above him and off the bow of the ship.
The bundle of canvas started to open, coming loose with the release of the tension of the ropes. Dexter squatted down and grabbed a thinner rope he tied to it, grimacing as it burned his hands. He pulled it taught, springing the bundle open and catching the wind. Bekka had sewn together a crude kite to act as an extra sail for them. It was only good when the wind was behind them and they were running in a straight line, but it promised some extra speed.
Dexter hurried back to oversee the pursuit. Xander slumped against the railing, watching the pursuing mist devils through glazed eyes. Dexter grabbed his robes and yanked him away from the railing, not being gentle but also keeping the man from accidentally toppling over the railing. He watched their pursuers close the distance slower than he had expected. His hand flexed repeatedly against the sword at his side until, with little over a hundred yards separating them, the spirits gave up the chase. They slowed and halted, retreating back to reform a cloud over the ruins.
Dexter stared for a long minute, amazed and stunned by their turn of fortune. He chuckled, and then laughed harder and louder. Xander roused from his fatigue induced stupor enough to see the situation and speak about it.
“They only guard the ruins, we got far enough away to no longer be perceived as a threat,” he mumbled.
Dexter shrugged, just happy to be alive. He clapped the wizard on the shoulder and left him to lie upon the stern castle. The Captain hurried down to the main deck and announced the good news. Everyone cheered and congratulated each other, even the typically somber Jodyne seemed in a good mood by their harrowing escape. Of those gathered, only Jenna seemed troubled.
Dexter saw her expression and his grin faded. “Jenna, we’ve escaped! What’s wrong?”