Chapter 28: Amelian

"All hands!" Amelain shouted as she stepped into the middle of the deck. The crew grew quiet and attentive almost immediately.

Poor fools were scared, Amelian acknowledged silently as she scanned the crowd that now gathered around her.

"The Dragon has slipped past the other airship and is on its way to the Bore. If it is allowed to achieve its aim, the City will go dark. This ship, and every soul on it, are all that stand in its way."

"We plan to lure it into close range, and hit it hard enough to drop it into the water. Corporal Vascel, choose a detail and move the starboard Valkyrie and its ammo to the port side. Sergeant Lancet, Valen will require your assistance. Flight crew, Maxwell will have deployment orders. Everyone else, arm up. Salamanders and extra rounds."

Amelian paused and was slightly unnerved that every eye on the ship was still watching her. So she reached into her training, grinned, and added, "Ss of right now, we're the City's only defence, so screw-ups will not be tolerated."

One of the engineers raised his hand. Raised his hand, like he was in school. Good grief. She nodded to him, and he asked, "Is that different from normal somehow?"

The entire crew started laughing. Rich and rancorous, Amelian was surprised to see even Valen break decorum and join in. She looked up to the wheel house, where Gerald grinned and waved. Lucille, still with a knife held lazily in her hand, only shrugged when their eyes met.

Amelian smiled and chuckled to herself. "No," she admitted, "It's not. To your stations!"

"End of the world is easier with orders to follow, isn't it?" Valen asked, grinning.

"It really is," Amelian laughed. She glanced back up at Gerald again, and added, "Poor bastard."

Valen saluted and marched away, meeting up with the newly promoted Sergeant Lancet. She quickly directed him to the railings, with one of the lanterns, pointing towards a building in the City below.

She turned away after a moment and took the opportunity to take out her spyglass and watch the Dragon's progress.

And found she didn't need to. She could make out distinctive shapes in the mass of flames, and the billowing mass of fire that swirled with every beat of its immense wings.

"Get that Valkyrie moving!" she shouted as she dashed over to where Mia was still unlatching the cannon's mount. Despite the six people attempting to lift the gun, two of whom were Samuel and Barnes, they couldn't get the wheel-mount over the makeshift guard that kept the gun from rolling further onto the deck.

"Gun's ash-seared heavy," Mia cursed, as Amelian joined them. "We need to cut away the guard."

"We don't have time to do that!" Amelian hissed, just before a hand set itself on her shoulder.

Lucille stepped past and drew a Salamander round out of her pocket. She held it up over her head for a moment, and Amelian saw the end of the shot begin to hiss and spit out a small lance of bright blue flame.

"You're a Crafter?" Amelian asked, as Lucille turned the burning Salamander shot and pointed it at the metal. The fire cut through the metal rapidly, and it took only moments for her to cut through the entire rail.

"Gerald's doing this. Said it was easy," Lucille remarked, as she began to cut through the other end of the rail. It clattered on the deck a moment later, and Lucille kicked it away. "Show-off."

They wheeled the Cannon across the deck in a headlong rush, driven to a frenzy by the crackling thunder of the Dragon's wings. It took only a few moments to set the Valkyrie a few feet away from the other gun, and Amelian took the opportunity to step back and look up.

She wished she hadn't. The beast had devoured much of the distance between them and was close enough its bright yellow eyes blazed beneath the fires swirling around its massive head. Fire dripped from its open mouth, its claws blazed like the firebrands of the Rider, and Amelian could feel the hot air being hurled about from the beast's wing beats.

"Maxwell! Go relieve the Captain!" Amelian cried out without seeing the helmsman. She merely hoped he had heard, not willing to turn away from the Dragon or the gun crew still loading the other Valkyrie.

It was close enough to attack the ship, but it was waiting to draw close. Amelian understood that as she watched it close. It knew Gerald could comfortably counter its assault at a distance.

"Loaded!" Mia shouted, but whatever she said next was drowned out as the Dragon roared. Its scream was such a surprise that the Gunnery screw startled and scrambled back, reaching for their swords.

Amelain looked up, to see the fire begin to surge towards the ship.

"Down!" Amelain heard Gerald shout, as he dashed past her. She saw him toss something into the air, before the bright red fire became too bright to look at. She dropped and rolled behind the Valkyrie, and saw Mia stop behind the other Gun.

The fires turned blue, and the wave of force caused the entire ship to buckle. As she took a breath, Amelian was startled by how hot the air felt as it entered her lungs.

She looked up and could see nothing beyond a curtain of bright blue fire, stretching from beyond the bow to past the main propellers of the ship. And Gerald; hair the colour of molten metal, stood with a swirl of white fire around him and his arms outstretched as if pushing at something.

The Dragon's fire.

"Mia! Ready?" Amelian called out to Mia, as she struggled to her feet and felt for the hammer of the Valkyrie.

"Aye! Just say when!" Mia called back.

A resounding crack pounded at her as something behind the mass of fire exploded, rocking the ship and hurling the Captain away from rails. Amelian forced herself to stare forward instead, as the fire dissipated and the Dragon came into view.

"Fire!" Amelian cried and pulled the trigger.

There was a bright blue flash, and the force of the gun firing pushed the air out of her lungs and shoved her backwards a step. She was only barely aware of the other gun going off.

Two streaks of grey tore through the open air, as the cannonballs struck the Dragon squarely in the chest, and sent it tumbling down.

Mia cheered, but Amelian immediately dashed into the centre of the deck and waved at Maxwell up at the helm. "All ahead full!" she cried frantically. "Take us towards the Bore! Preston, Reginald, Mitchelson, look for that Dragon. Tell me if it starts coming at us!"

Maxwell waved slightly as he set the ship into motion, and she turned away to see Lucille crouched over Gerald, with Valen standing nearby.

"His shoulder's dislocated," Amelian heard Valen say, as she approached. "Might have cracked some of his ribs. No other injuries."

"Fires below," Gerald hissed. "I need both arms to fly the ship. The Spire's winds are unforgiving."

"Understood," Lucille said, as she took off one of her gloves and put it in his uninjured hand. She stepped over to his dislocated arm, placed it over his chest, and said, "Bite down."

He put the glove between his teeth and bit down as she slowly rotated his arm at the elbow. He grit his teeth and bit down hard as she turned his arm, but didn't try to stop Lucille as she rotated his shoulder until it slid back into the socket.

"Not bad," Valen said in approval, as Gerald sat up and gingerly tested his shoulder.

"Evaluator training involves a lot of falling. Learning to reset a dislocation seemed like a good idea about half a year in," Lucille said. To Gerald, the commander added, "be as careful as you can with it."

"Duly noted. Where is it?" Gerald asked.

"Mitchelson?" Amelian called out.

"On our port side, about a thousand yards! It's flying away from us, trying to regain its height."

"Altitude. It's ascending to gain altitude," Gerald muttered as he regained his feet. He moved slowly, and every time he inhaled he grimaced, but he was walking unaided, after saving the ship.

She followed as he marched back to the wheel house, as Maxwell stepped away. "We're too high," Amelain said, as Gerald began to do something with the smaller wheels.

She understood a moment later, as large sails began to unfurl on the sides of the ship.

"Even if we knock it down, it will recover before it hits the water. We need to get lower."

"We can't cool the lift-bag unless we open the bottom-hatch, ma'am," Maxwell said to her as the ship surged ahead. "Which we can't do unless the Captain redirects the fire. And I am not up for riding the Bore."

The Songbird began to rattle as the winds began to push away the normally still air around her. Amelian clutched the rails with one hand and decided not to ask how fast they were going.

"Riding the Bore? You have a name for this?" Amelian asked, surprised by the note of hysteria that crept into her voice.

Maxwell nodded, solemnly.

"My master will lure the Dragon. We just need to survive for a few minutes," Gerald said, swinging one of the propellers. "Then, we can follow."

Amelian turned back, to see the Dragon approaching from behind them, rushing through the air as quickly as it had approached earlier. "We can't trade blows with it, and we can't outrun it."

"We can outrun it," Gerald said, with a smile on his face. "When it blitzed us just now, it gave away its top speed. It's fast, a bit faster than any train in the City could manage. But in the winds of the Spire, I can outrun it."

As if to prove his point, the ship grew dreadfully quiet as the wind took the sails and yanked the ship into a wide spiral around the Bore. The sprawl of Central, the heart of the City, passed with startling swiftness, as immense buildings passed in, and out of her sight.

She looked back, to see the Dragon pass out of sight as the Spire blocked her vision. She blinked and looked away, as the column of fire burned at the eyes like the Sun, even from half the City away.

A few moments later, the Dragon came back into view, as it peeled away from its pursuit and flew in the opposite direction, waiting as the ship now approached.

She turned back and saw Gerald was also watching. He did not seem as troubled as she felt. "Good luck flying into this wind," he said, scathingly, as he pushed the rear propellers even harder.

"Sir, can you spin the ship in place?" Amelian asked.

"In this? That's insane," Maxwell said, adamantly, but it wasn't the old Engineer she wanted an answer from.

Gerald pondered for a moment, then said, "I can do a corkscrew spin. Amelian, use the Valkyries at your discretion. Wave to me once they're loaded, and I'll try to point the guns in our enemy's direction. Maxwell, I'll shout orders about the sails from here."

"I might not hear you over this wind, sir," Maxwell replied.

"Then I'll write the orders on this pad. Keep an eye on it," Gerald said, as he reached into his pocket and handed Maxwell a small pad of paper.

She and Maxwell both saluted before marching back down the stairs. She looked at Maxwell, and glanced at the blank pad of paper in his hand.

He noticed her confusion, and said, "The captain can write on it using the Craft."

"Really?"

"You saw him do it before."

"Guess I assumed the distance made it more difficult," Amelian said, as Maxwell turned back to the wheel and held his hand out, thumb pointed toward the lift-bag.

After, he showed Amelian the paper. In a hasty scrawl along the top of the page, she read: signal if legible.

Amelian smiled as she turned away. "Mia! Are those guns loaded yet?" she called out, as she approached the guns.

"Aye, ma'am!" Mia responded, not looking up from whatever adjustments she was making to the sights. As she approached, she could see the corporal was muttering under her breath.

"Need a second marker to identify lateral drift. No one made Valkyrie sights for a moving vehicle. Wish I knew what the winds were doing, but...." Mia mumbled as she adjusted another knob. Amelian could barely follow the rest of it, as her corporal rapidly glanced up and looked out with irritation at the winds howling around the ship.

"Burn me; I'll just eyeball it," Mia said, as she wrenched the sights off. "Besides, we're pointed right at the Bore, and will probably stay that way."

She looked up to the Captain, caught his attention, and waved. He nodded without taking his hands off the wheels.

"Captain's going to point the ship at the Dragon," Amelian said. "Be ready."

"Flaming hell!" Mia exclaimed and darted to the winches along the side of the Valkyrie's mount. "How?"

"Something he called a 'corkscrew spin'," Amelian replied.

"Burn him and his expectations! He wants me to hit a moving target on a spinning platform with hundred mile an hour winds? With a fifty-year-old gun?" Mila exclaimed indignantly.

"Can you do it?" Amelian asked, firmly.

"Yeah, of course," Mia answered, clearly offended.

Amelian hissed under her breath, leaving her exasperation unexpressed.

Valen approached beside her and said, "We passed the message along. No response, but that's our fault. We can't watch a part of the City long enough to notice. Ship's too damn fast."

Amelian nodded. "We don't need their response. Have Reeves take a detail and track the Dragon. Watch, and anticipate its movements. Have him report directly to the Commander, at the helm."

"Aye, ma'am," Valen replied, somehow managing to sound compliant and pay a compliment in a single phrase. It was another thing she admired about the old soldier, being able to say so much so concisely.

Small wonder the man was supposed to be second to the Lord Captain right now. Outranking him never sat right.

"When's he turning?" Mia asked.

Maxwell suddenly bellowed out to some of the other engineers, and the sails near the guns were wound in with surprising swiftness, as long chains pulled the canvas in and tucked it against the hull of the ship.

"You had to ask," Amelian said.

The ship's bow swung to the right, away from the Spire, violently twisting in the air.

"Only this gun!" Mia shouted, and the soldiers near the other cannon stepped away.

"Lieutenant, down two degrees!" Mia exclaimed, her hand resting on the trigger lock.

Amelian scrambled to the side of the gun and began turning the winch, careful to watch the gauge and follow Mia's instructions as precisely as possible.

Chew her out over giving orders to her commanding officer later.

"Two degrees down!" Amelian cried out in confirmation.

Mia barely let her finish, before shouting, "Clear!"

Amelian dashed away and covered her ears as Mia fired the Valkyrie, the deafening roar only slightly muted by the hands covering her ears.

She turned back, watching carefully, as the Dragon's head was rocked back and it careened backwards, tumbling down as they passed.

"Boom! Headshot!" Mia exclaimed, throwing her arms up only for a moment before clutching at the cannon. The spin was still getting faster as the ship was pointed away from the direction they were travelling in.

"On a moving target, from a moving gun, with hundred miles an hour winds! Eat your heart out, Crafters!" Mia shouted, still jubilant.

"Lieutenant!" She heard Maxwell shout out, and she turned to see him ripping a page of paper off his pad, and tossing it aside. "We're doing two spins!"

"Got it!" she called back, trying to keep from swearing out loud. "Load that Valkyrie! Mia, prep the other gun! Mitcheson, tell me when the Dragon levels off!"

"Aye, ma'am!" She heard several voices reply, and nearly a dozen people dashed about. She saw Mitchelson slide, rather than run across the deck to the far side; and the soldiers loading the Valkyrie did it on their knees.

She followed their example as she set herself at the Valkyrie with Mia. "Assume the Dragon does three seconds of free-fall. Another two hundred yards further, but the wind works in my favour. Down, eight degrees."

Amelian assumed the last bit was directed at her and started lowering the muzzle of the Valkyrie. She wound it as much as she could but found herself coming up short.

"Six degrees is all you're getting, Mia!" Amelian called out.

Mia's eyes widened, and she hissed in disbelief. "Brimstone and ash!" she said and turned away to think.

Amelian understood her concern, after a moment. The angle of the gun was the only variable they could adjust, and if they couldn't get the gun lower, their next shot would pass harmlessly over the Dragon's head.

All of this flashed through her head as she watched the bow of the ship pass the Dragon.

"Put a second ball in the barrel!" she heard Maxwell call out, and with wide eye, she turned back to Mia.

"Will that work?" Amelian asked Mia.

"I'll make it work! Two degrees up!" Mia shouted in response.

Amelian darted back to the dials beneath the Valkyrie as Mia dropped another metal ball in the barrel.

She wound it as quickly as she could but didn't make it two degrees up before Mia shouted frantically. "Clear!"

Amelian rolled away and covered her ears, as another shot rang out. This time she was close enough to feel the sound in her lungs, and despite the hands over her ears, it was hard to hear anything for a moment.

"Both!" She heard Mia gloating, her hands in the air as the ship turned away from the Dragon. "Three hits, two shots! All hail Mia Vascel, goddess of the gun!"

The ship swung back into the wind, and Maxwell's engineers hurled the canvas sails out to catch it, hauling the ship forward and away from the Dragon. Behind them, the Dragon rightened itself and flew in a wide circle away from the Spire.

Maxwell waved as he detached himself from the flight crew and approached. "Nice shooting," he said, clearly impressed.

"It's all her," Amelian admitted, pointing with her thumb to Mia. "And thank you for suggesting the second cannonball. It was inspired."

"It was the Captain," Maxwell admitted, showing her the page of paper he was reading from. In the scrawl of surprisingly neat, but tiny writing, was 'use two cannon balls'.

Maxwell turned to Mia, and added, "You're still only meeting expectations." He looked confused as he said it, but smiled as he saw Mia's expression before turning away and returning to his work.

"Flame-baked prick," Mia cursed, sputtering indignantly. Amelian chuckled, amused despite herself. She'd ask about the inside joke later.

"Mitchelson, where's the Dragon?" she asked, shouting to the private who was standing in the middle of the deck.

The boy glanced to one of the lookouts, who waved with a few gestures that Amelian couldn't see. "It's trying to follow us, but we're outrunning it!"

Amelian nodded and waved to Mitchelson to confirm that she heard him. She circled away, and marched up towards the Captain, thinking as she walked.

They were stuck in a Spiral around the Bore. No, she corrected herself as she stepped behind the Captain. Not stuck, but they couldn't outrun the Dragon unless they had the wind at their backs.

And a close-range engagement will probably get us all killed. The Captain cannot commit to an attack without leaving them defenceless, and they had no other way of delivering a significant blow to the Dragon.

On the other hand, the ship had a decided advantage in both manoeuvrability and range. The Dragon will attempt to close before attacking since it's long-range assaults proved futile in the past. All of which plays perfectly to the Songbird's advantages.

"We're in a stalemate, sir," Amelian said to the Captian as she stepped to his left.

"Exactly as we hoped," Gerald replied, without turning around. "Once the other ship arrives, we need to lure the Dragon towards the water. The other ship has cooling lines, so they can descend without opening their lift bag. Hopefully, the Dragon follows, and we can follow after."

"Can we really expect the other ship to bear the brunt of the Dragon's wrath?" she asked.

"They have more guns, cooling lines, and a better Crafter," The Captain said, simply.

"And what if the Dragon assaults them from above, while they descend?" Amelian asked. "What if it attacks their lift-bag?"

"Then we celebrate," Gerald answered cryptically, and Amelian glanced grimly towards the other ship.