Chapter 30: Lucille

"By the memory of the last flare before the endless night," Lucille heard her charge whisper, a rather poetic curse she didn't recognize. He was staring below, as the other airship whirled about like a leaf in a whirlwind, its cannons hammering the plummeting cannon caught in the eye of the ship's maelstrom.

He was awestruck, she realised. And grieving.

"May I burn so brightly," Gerald added. He turned to her, and she wasn't surprised to see tears in his eyes.

But when he spoke next, there was nothing but the sharp confidence of a man who knew the authority his words carried. "Maxwell is on his way up, to take the wheel. I'll need your knife and your assistance with the hatch. Four and a half seconds."

Abyss below. Six seconds and the bag goes out. At five, it doesn't inflate enough to generate enough lift to counter its own weight, let alone the ship's. There isn't a lot of wiggle room there. And even at four and a half seconds, they may as well be in free-fall.

All of this a stone's throw from the Spire, with two-hundred mile-an-hour winds. Never mind that the Midnight Songbird was less than seven hours old.

"Aye, sir," Lucille said. Her Captain right now, not her charge. And right now, she needed to be more than a shadow.

She stepped next to him, reached into his coat pocket, and took out another small pad of paper. "You're hoarding a fortune in your pockets, you know."

Gerald started to say something, but Lucille cut him off with a wave of her hand. "I need to get the crew ready for this. Just write on the pad if you need me," she said, and started down the stairs.

She headed straight to the pair of cannons hastily positioned on the side of the ship, and the half-dozen soldiers busy nearby. She picked out the gunnery specialist, Corporal Mia Vascel, as she crouched behind one of the guns. She appeared to be deep in conversation with the old sergeant, Valen Redgrave.

"Because the rangefinder is as useful as wings on a train, sir. All you see is cloud, and there's too much drift. We're on a moving platform, trying to hit a moving target," Mia explained as she waved a small piece of metal around in her hand.

"Anyone who isn't you is going to need the damn thing, corporal. And right now is a bad time to be indispensable," Valen replied. He looked up and saw her approach.

"Ma'am," Valen said, standing up and saluting. Mia followed suit, before crouching back down over the gun.

"Captain's preparing to take us down after the Dragon. I want some ideas about attacking the beast once we're in range. What can we fire out of these guns?" Lucille asked, looking at the ammunition stored nearby.

"We've been using round-shot, so far. Nothing else has the range. If we were hoping to hit harder, do more damage, we would use Incendiary. There's some Canister shot, but that's mostly for large groups of soft targets. Gloamtaken," Mia explained.

"We need something that can keep the Dragon from flying for a few seconds. Tangle it up, even. Can we fire chains at it, somehow? I thought that was a type of projectile."

Mia cringed and shook her head. "It would shred the rifling, and it wouldn't fire properly unless it had a cannonball behind it. Even then, we don't have chains, and it would just bunch together when it hit."

"It's called sweeper shot. We used it to clear streets and causeways of the Gloamtaken during the last invasion. Two cannonballs with a length of chain attached. But we don't have any or the facilities to make them," Valen added, as he glanced about.

Lucille glared hard at him for a moment, until he flinched and shook his head. "Mia, the commander is about to reprimand us for being stupid."

"Because we have spare chain, cannon balls aplenty, and a Crafter aboard? Yeah, I think we deserve it, sir." Mia said, standing up. She stared hard at Lucille and added, "Just remember that sweeper shot is incredibly inaccurate. If we use it, we have to be closed ."

"Noted, thank you," Lucille answered. "Chain is stored near the engines. Use whatever you think will fit."

"Aye, ma'am," Valen said, saluting before turning away and gathering up a half-dozen others.

"How close do we need to be?" Lucille asked as Valen left.

"No closer than fifty yards, and no further than three-hundred," Mia replied. "Too close, and the chain doesn't stretch out. Too far, well, you know."

"How fast can we be going?" Lucille asked.

"Fast as you like."

"You may regret saying that," Lucille warned her.

"Burn me," Mia breathed.

Lucille turned away, smiling a little at the corporal's discomfort, and found Amelian speaking with Maxwell.

"No, Madeleine is excellent. She fits in nicely. But I need more hands helping the sails. I've had to pull Ardenne and Joy from the engines just to keep up with the Captain's demands. And I need to put them back. Those gears are already overworked," Maxwell insisted.

"I'll put Lancet and her squad at your disposal. And Spendel. Damn kid needs something complicated to do anyway," Amelian replied. "Lancet will answer to you directly."

"Thank you, ma'am," Maxwell said, saluting.

"Stop that. If feels as uncomfortable from you as it does from Valen," Amelain said, rubbing the back of her head awkwardly.

"I've rarely been paid a better compliment," Maxwell said, as he looked at Lucille and nodded once, before stepping away.

"Chief Durgon filled me in on the plan, ma'am," Amelian said. "I saw my Sergeant lead several people below. What's he after?"

"We're fabricating chain-shot. We're getting our best chance at the beast, and I want it to count."

"Ah. Round-shot, chain, and a Crafter. Clever. But can we get down there fast enough?"

"Captain thinks so," Lucille said simply. "Our job is to make the best of whatever opportunity he manages to give us."

"The Dragon will be attacking the other airship, from directly above," Amelian said, and Lucille was surprised at her insight. "The other Captain won't let it sit below them, and it will attack outside of a Valkyrie's reach. If we rapidly ascend from right near the water, at speed, we can use the beast's fires to blind it from our approach."

Lucille sputtered and shook her head. "You really just came up with all that?"

"I'm not sure if we can get down in time, though. We'd need to be in near free-fall."

Lucille laughed. "Funny you should say that."

"Abyss below, you're all insane."

Lucille found she couldn't deny that statement.

She turned away and swatted at her leg pocket, flinching as something burned her leg. She pulled out the pad of paper in her pocket and sneered as she looked around for Gerald.

On the pad, written in a surprisingly precise hand, was written:

Need knife. Maxwell at helm. Have Amelian prep crew for descent

"Captain's ready to drop us," Lucille said to Amelian, tucking the pad of paper back in her pocket. "Have the soldiers go where they'll be needed, then find something to hang on to. He's going to push this ship's limits."

Amelian nodded, and saluted, before Lucille turned to find Gerald already at the hatch, in the middle of the deck.

"You needed to burn a hole in my pocket to tell me that?" Lucille asked Gerald as she approached.

Gerald took her knife in his left hand, as he already held his officer's sword in his right. "I'm not fond of shouting," he replied as he examined her knife for a moment.

Lucille took the opportunity to look over the officer's sword in his other hand, surprised at the deep deformities in the blade. Half the length looked as if it had been dumped back into the forge and allowed to melt.

Except no forge in the City could melt that sword. Even the fire that held the ship aloft didn't have that kind of power.

Only their enemy.

"Four seconds. Whenever you're ready," Gerald said, staring up at the hatch.

"Aye, sir," Lucille replied, and she gripped the handle tightly in her hands. She nodded to him, and as she watched him turn his head up, she wrenched the hatch open.

Fire enveloped and surrounded him instantly, and the explosive heat punched at her chest as she watched.

Soldiers cried out and scattered, terrified despite the briefing, as primal fear drove them. Lucille caught sight of Amelian, standing still with her arms crossed, deliberately looking unconcerned for the benefit of those under her command.

"One!" Lucille called out, as loudly as she could. She saw Valen standing near the Valkyries, his hand resting on the sword at his belt.

"Two!" she cried out, struggling to be heard over the screaming mass of fire that Gerald was engulfed in.

"Three!" Lucille shouted into the mass of fire, her scars tingling as her hands clutched at the lever.

Lucille grimaced and forced the rising panic down, sneering at her fear. She was more than a shadow now. The City needed her to be.

Her crew needed her to be.

"Four!" Lucille called out, and swung the lever, shutting the hatch. All at once, the fire vanished, and Captain Raeth stood in its place, armed with sword and dagger held extended to his sides, and the giddy, power-drunk expression she had seen him wear twice before.

"All hands, brace! We're falling after that beast!" Lucille cried out, hoping Gerald regained his focus quickly.

She was relieved to see his manic smile fade into a grin, and his focus return. "Maxwell! Main propellers to overrun!" Gerald shouted as he dashed up the stairs. Lucille followed and took her knife from him as she caught up with him in front of the helm.

"Thank you, sir. I wasn't looking forward to riding the Bore in free-fall," Maxwell said as he stepped away from the controls.

"Set the sails to sixty-two degrees aft," Gerald said as he took the wheel. "And use the drinking water to cool the engines. I'm going to be working them a lot harder than I should."

Lucille's eyes widened, as she gripped the rail with a free hand. Gerald was already turning the swivel propellers to add to the ship's forward momentum, and the ship took on a terrifying new speed that caused the ship to rumble as it began to fall.

"Brimstone and ash," Lucille hissed. "How fast are you taking us?"

"To the ship's limits. Possibly beyond. I'll find out when we reach the water," Gerald answered. "Hope it's in one piece."

"What we've done until now wasn't even pushing the ship?" Lucille asked.

"I've been nothing but sweet and careful until now," Gerald said as the ship began to pick up speed. "But this could be more strain than either the sails or the tethers were built for. And I'm at the limits of my focus. I'll get the ship to the Dragon, but you need to get the crew there."

"Aye sir," Lucille said. She paused, and added, "Now's the time you're supposed to say something inspiring."

"I like your accent," Gerald said, without looking away from what he was doing.

"What?"

"I can't place it. Sounds undercity-ish, but there's a definite hint of some very technical schooling. Like you had engineers for parents, but grew up in one of the meaner parts of the City. It makes for rather melodic technobabble."

"I hope you shit burning coals," Lucille replied, turning away. Blazing embers of the underworld, she'd hang herself if she let him see her blush.

"I hope you shit burning coals..." Gerald said, letting the sentence hang.

"Sir," Lucille said.

"Duly noted. Hop to it, commander."

Commander. A reminder of his trust. She marched back down the stairwell, and glanced around to check the condition of the crew.

Fortunately for the crew, most of what kept them busy faced the Spire and made it difficult to watch how fast the ship was moving.

Out of curiosity, she glanced to the other side, and immediately regretted it. The distant city swirled across the railings, and the horizon seemed to simply dart out of sight.

Instead, she darted to the front of the ship and tried to get a good look at the Dragon. She climbed the rails and climbed along one of the stabilizing chains holding the sails out for a better look.

The beast was almost directly below them, almost half a mile down, right above the water. She could tell, because the force of the Dragon's assault was pushing at the water below the other Airship, which was nearly swallowed up in the fires the Dragon was pouring down it.

She cursed and flung herself back onto the deck, just in time to intercept Valen, leading a half-dozen soldiers back up from the lower decks.

"We have it, ma'am," Valen reported. As he spoke, he held up the thick chain he was hauling. Nearly thirty feet long, with links as thick as her wrist, it had never seemed smaller than it did now.

"Can we use the entire chain?" Lucille asked, as she grabbed a portion of it behind Valen and helped carry it to the guns.

"It won't fit, ma'am," Valen replied quickly.

"Using both guns? One end in each?" Lucille asked. "It wouldn't need to fit then."

"I'll leave the final word to Mia," Valen said.

They hauled the chain to the Valkyries, where Corporal Vascel was anxiously muttering as she inspected the chain.

"Too thick, too damn thick," Mia said, as she stopped and crouched over the chain.

"The Commander suggested stringing the chain between the two guns," Valen replied.

"Not unless the Captain can fire the guns from up there," Mia insisted. "I need a simultaneous explosion at almost twice the force of a regular shot.

Lucille grinned as she felt a now familiar burn in her pocket, and drew out the pad of paper.

Two times velocity, simultaneous explosion, signal when?

So much for being pushed to his limit.

She handed the pad to Mia, who chuckled and said, "Spite the abyss, I love working with an officer who gets ballistics."

Lucille glanced at her with her best scowl, but it was Valen's raised eyebrow that the gunner's back straight. "Sorry, sir."

Valen chuckled as he set a cannon ball down at Lucille's feet.

Lucille took the opportunity to don a thick pair of gloves she had kept in her pockets since Gerald had first shown up at the dock. She took a Salamander shell out of her pocket and held it in the air, waiting a moment before it began to spit a small tongue of bright blue.

She set the end of the chain against the cannonball and started melting the steel until it pooled along the ball, leaving a joint that melted the first link up to half its length. She pointed the shot away and set the chain down. "Test it, let me know if it cracks anywhere." She said to a soldier she didn't recognize and went to the other end, where Amelian was already waiting.

"Good decision, using all this chain," Amelian said as Lucille began welding the other end of the chain. "The Dragon's about ninety feet from the water, bathing the other ship in flames. I think it's trying to shove the ship into the water, or pop the lift-bag. The other Captain seems comfortable using the bag as a shield. But that beast could rip that bag into tatters the moment it wants to."

"It won't," Lucille said, as she finished the weld. "It's a creature of flame. It won't touch the cold-stone."

"Oh," Amelian said, as she seemed to stop and stare back down at the Dragon. "I keep ignoring the implications."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm not sure yet," Amelian replied. She picked up the cannonball, dragging the chain along with it, and set it down in front of the Valkyrie.

Two other soldiers dropped the ball into the gun and began checking the weapon over. Lucille took the opportunity to glance off the side and was startled to see how much closer they were to the water.

Abyss below, how fast were they really going?

She felt a tingle in her pocket, and pulled the pad out.

Thirty-five seconds and I reignite the bag. Roughly eight more until we reach the other ship

They had been nearly a mile up. An abyss seared mile. Fires below.

"Forty-five yards a second, straight down. Eighty-five yards a second, laterally," Maxwell said as he stopped beside her, staring hard at one of the swivel propellers.

"I don't want to know," Lucille admitted.

"About ninety-five yards a second. Not quite two hundred miles an hour," Maxwell said anyway, and Lucille cringed.

"How about you keep that to yourself until we're on the ground," she said to him.

"Sorry. Captain and I had a bet going about how fast we could fly in these winds. Ship's handling the strain nicely so far. We'll make it to the Dragon."

"Good," Lucille said. The ship was going to make it, and the guns were ready. "You should wait by the Captain, in case he needs you to take over."

"Aye, ma'am," Maxwell replied, before departing.

"All hands! Twenty seconds until we engage!" she shouted as the ship drew closer to the water.

"Guns are hot!" she heard Amelian cry out in reply.

A moment later, she felt the ship push at her feet, as Gerald reignited the lift-bag, and slowed the ship's descent.

Lucille heard a sharp, strange hissing sound just as they stopped descending, and realized it was the ship skimming over the water. The ship rushed just above the choppy waters of the Channel, barreling furiously through the empty air that lay between them and the battle that raged just ahead.

She couldn't see the other airship. The only reason she knew it was there was that the Dragon wouldn't continue pouring that immense mass of fire without cause. The cone of nearly liquid flame that poured out of the beast's mouth was bright enough to compare with the Spire.

"Port side sails in!" she heard Maxwell shout. "Get them tucked beside the lift-bag or we're going to lose them!"

The engineers on deck scrambled to pull the sails in. Lucille moved to help them, but she was waved off by Arabel Preston, who said, "We have this, ma'am."

Lucille returned to watching the Dragon as it still bathed the other ship in flames. Under that pillar of white fire, she couldn't see the other ship. But the Dragon's assault continued, and its attention was fixated. Their approach, from nearly behind the beast, was still unnoticed.

This plan might work.

The Songbird began to rise from the surface of the water, ascending rapidly up along the fringes of the Dragon's assault. Even at this distance, and the heat of the Spire, the Dragonfire's heat swept across the deck, punching against Lucille's coat and instantly drying out her mouth.

"We're closing! Corproal, signal at the ready!" she called out, as Mia held her arm straight up. She looked up to Gerald, who nodded as he caught her gaze.

She gripped the cold-stone dagger beneath her coat, took a deep breath, and let herself wait. This next move was now out of her hands.

They drew close, and as they passed the Dragon, Mia's arm swung down.

Her sight was drowned in a flash of bright blue fire.