Dragon Airways (17 page)

A gnarled hand landed on her shoulder, and she let Barabas lead her away.

"It won't be long, and they'll be back," Brick said. "If we don't do something fast, we are defeated."

"The new gun survived!" someone shouted from outside the bunkers.

"We could hurt them with that," Brick said, "but I don't know how we'll get it to the bluffs." Riette's life-long friend and romantic interest turned to Barabas then. "I know your dragon is injured and weakened, but do you think he could help get a cannon to the bluffs?"

"She," Tuck said.

Brick shook his head, momentarily baffled.

"We can try," Barabas said. "How big is this gun?"

"Twice the size of the one on the airfield."

"Have you strong enough ropes?" Barabas asked and Brick nodded. "Gather everyone you can. She won't be able to fly with that kind of weight."

"If you've any strength left, come to the smithy!" Brick shouted.

A distressingly small number of people converged on a spot that looked much like everything else in Sparrowport: rubble. Riette recognized bits of shops and stores she'd frequented her entire life, and seeing the place destroyed threatened to bring tears to her eyes, but she had hardened to the pain. One could suffer only so much loss before the nerves dulled. When they reached the smithy, her will was tested again. She'd practically grown up there.

She tried not to look in the direction of her old home; she already knew it had been completely destroyed. Even if she'd never planned to live there again, knowing it was gone left her feeling lonely and lost. Only when Brick pulled wreckage to one side did she see something that gave her hope.

Beneath all the destruction were familiar tools and implements. The anvil on which Brick had taught her to make horseshoes, the hammers and tongs with handles worn smooth from use. At a modified version of his forge stood Brick's father, Joren.

No longer was the smithy at street level; it now existed in what had once been a root cellar. Massive copper tanks lined the walls, and three strapping lads turned a compressor wheel. Riette had thought them all dead and gone, and seeing them, no matter how much they had teased Emmet, made her smile. Blackened pipes fed air to the roaring forge, which glowed brighter than any Riette had ever seen. Gone were the bellows she and Brick had spent so much time operating. Never had their efforts resulted in such white hot coals.

Brick smiled. "We needed a lot more heat to melt down the metals the Zjhon use. I don't know what kind of forges they have, but they are years ahead of us. Still, we manage."

Joren left the anvil where he worked and embraced Brick. "I thought I might never see you again, my son. What in the world did they drop on us this time?"

"They've abandoned the smaller bombs and now are using massive bombs almost too heavy for the planes to carry. So far they have concentrated on the bunkers, but they will strike here soon. We need to get you out of here."

"And do what?" Joren asked.

"Did you finish the breech?" Brick asked.

His father nodded.

"Their dragon will help us get the new gun to the bluffs."

"Ah, my little Ri Ri!" Joren said, seeing Riette. "I thought the boy might follow you to the end of the world. It's good to see you back. And Emmet?" Riette's brother stepped from behind Barabas and embraced the smith, who was one of the few people in the world he trusted and openly liked. "Ah, there he is. It lightens my heart to see you, but I see my son is impatient."

Brick rolled his eyes. "They'll return soon. We must hurry."

"I know, my son. Sometimes, though, we must remember what it is we are fighting for. Now get over here and help me pin the breech. Then we can see about getting this monster out of here. It ain't gonna be easy, I tell you. I still think we may have gone too far."

"Let's find out," Brick said, visibly annoyed. "If I'm wrong, I'm wrong. It's too late to go back now."

Joren nodded. It took the two men only a short time to finish assembling the breech, and Riette marveled at the size of it. The barrel disappeared into the back of the smithy into a hole dug for that purpose alone. More people arrived and the space was soon cramped and crowded. Riette grabbed Emmet and dragged him back to street level. There she found Tuck tending to Dashiq. The dragon had never looked worse. Her sides heaved with labored breaths. Tears filled Tuck's eyes. That sight stabbed at Riette's heart on multiple levels, and she somehow felt pain again.

"I don't know if she can do it," Tuck said.

"There's nothing left to do but fight," Barabas said. "Dashiq has fought her entire life to keep these people safe, and she won't stop now, no matter what we think. You saw what she did."

Tuck nodded, tears now streaming down his face. "I don't want her to die," he sobbed.

"Neither do I," Barabas said, a catch in his voice.

Hearing his emotion was more than Riette could bear, and she wept openly. Emmet took her hand, and she bent down to hug him, knowing it might be the last time she ever did. The Zjhon would return soon, and the people of Sparrowport had few resources left with which to fight them. The enormous gun was an act of desperation. They would leave the remains of the town and the people still there, undefended, to get the gun to the bluffs. No one worked on reloading the catapults or air cannons and instead worked the ropes coming out of the hole in the ground that now served as the smithy.

Issuing a mournful call, Dashiq committed herself to the effort and allowed ropes to be looped over her muscular neck and haunches. Riette continued to feel useless and did her best to stay out of the way.

"We're ready!" Brick shouted. "When I say, give it all you've got. Now! Heave!"

Like a draft horse pulling a sunken plow, Dashiq leaned into the ropes and groaned from the effort. The ropes creaked and popped but did not budge.

"Help her!" Barabas ordered, and everyone still standing grabbed the ropes and pulled.

Despair quickly began to set in. The massive gun was simply too heavy for them to move. Tears gathering in Brick's eyes threatened to shatter Riette's will. He was the strongest and kindest person she'd ever known. He had stood up for her even when outnumbered, and it had cost him dearly over the years. It had also cost Joren business, but neither had ever complained. Riette had always been grateful for them, and to see them near their own breaking points hurt her in a way few other things could.

"Incoming!" someone shouted.

Despair set its hooks deeply. It was too late. The Zjhon had returned, and the people of Sparrowport had accomplished nothing in the meantime. The planes would encounter no resistance and could choose their targets at will. If the people did not scatter soon, they would give away the smithy's location, which was among the few assets they had remaining, not to mention expose themselves to fire. Without any people left alive, the smithy would mean nothing. Unable to figure out what to do, Riette stood frozen, holding Emmet's hand. If she had to die, at least she could be there to comfort him in their last moments. It was small consolation, but it was something. With sad determination, she turned to face the incoming planes.

When she saw what approached, she drew a sharp breath. A single dragon flew toward them with two riders.

It was Berigor.

Seeing Dashiq in distress, Berigor and Keldon wasted no time. The larger dragon landed not far from Riette, looking not much better than the last time she'd seen him. She half expected Barabas to scold the man, but instead he just took half the ropes from Dashiq and tossed them up to Keldon. The man did not hesitate and asked no questions. Berigor nuzzled Dashiq and the two shared a moment of solace, eyes closed. No one could say exactly what passed between them, but when they opened their eyes again, both began to pull with all their might. The effort tore away the stone atop the smithy and left a gaping hole through which the gleaming gun barrel emerged. Riette had known it would be big, but it seemed to go on forever. When the small end finally emerged, people did their best to guide the massive weapon through the haphazard debris field, which had once been cobblestone streets.

Even with Berigor's help, getting the gun out of town without damaging it was a struggle. Children also helped, working together to move things from the dragons' paths. Upon reaching the trenches, Barabas guided Dashiq to the south. Sloping hills covered in slick grasses made the second part of the journey far easier, and the people struggled to keep up with the laboring dragons. Riette wasn't even certain where they were going until Brick dashed past them, moving faster than Riette had ever seen him go. He ran straight toward a pile of debris that looked like nothing more than a tangle of downed trees. Others joined him and helped clear the brush from what was in actuality a sandbagged base not unlike the one supporting the cannon on the airfield, only this one was half again as large. Copper tanks were just barely visible amid recently constructed berms, and a stockpile of large stone shot rested to one side.

"We've been building this at night for the past week," Brick said with a mixture of pride and anxious anticipation. "Now we'll find out if I was right or if I'm the greatest fool Sparrowport has ever known."

Riette hugged him, unable to do anything more to address his regrettably realistic fears. The dragons pulled the massive gun barrel into place until the trunnions settled into the grooves made for them. The fit was precise and made Riette proud of her friend. He'd come such a long way since the days of making cook pots and door knockers.

People cheered when the air tanks were connected and the first round breech loaded. Once the breech was closed, Brick climbed up to sight the mighty gun. Out to sea, the Zjhon fleet was visible, waiting just far enough offshore to stay beyond the smaller gun's range. Here on the bluffs and with the much larger gun, they would drive the fleet farther out to sea and reduce their ability to launch air raids.

Before they ever got a shot off, though, it became clear it would be too little too late. Somehow the Zjhon must have known they were planning something and appeared determined to put an end to the resistance once and for all. The previous flights had been but a fraction of their remaining strength. The skies above the fleet were filled with aircraft. It looked as if they would send every bit of firepower they had remaining. It was an overwhelming force, and all those assembled quailed. No more cheers rose from the now dispirited group. Within a few minutes, their destruction would come.

"Hold your fire," Barabas barked, and Brick looked at him with confusion in his eyes. "Wait until the planes have moved close enough to town that they can no longer see us up here. Let them attack an empty town, so they have no munitions left by the time they realize we're here."

"He's right," Joren said. "Better to let them bomb empty bunkers than to come here where we are largely undefended. We're only going to get one chance at this. Once they know this gun is here, they'll do everything they can to destroy it, just as they have the one on the airfield."

"They've failed at that so far," Brick argued.

"Won't matter if the gun survives and there's no one left to fire it," Joren said.

Everyone else remained silent, letting the young man's father say his piece. Brick nodded in obvious reluctance. Those gathered on the bluffs watched from concealed positions within a line of scrubby trees, trying to keep from being seen and feeling helpless while a devastating force descended on their home. A pair of young men ran back to town to evacuate those they could, and Riette prayed with all her might the children found their way to safety, despite knowing no place was really safe.

"Open the valves," Brick shouted once the last aircraft disappeared behind the tallest peak along the shoreline. With the shot already loaded and the gun sighted on the largest Zjhon ship, Brick did not hesitate. Taking control of the situation, he fired the mighty weapon. It issued an echoing report like nothing any of them had ever heard before. For a long moment, nothing happened, but then, even from such a distance, the impact was unmistakable. While his shot had flown over the flagship, three smaller ships were damaged and began to sink. "Close the valves," Brick ordered, working to open the breech and reload. Never had Riette been so proud and frightened at the same time.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

War is a terrible and sometimes necessary thing; avoid it when you can, but fight with everything you have when you cannot.

—Barabas DeGuiere, dragon rider

* * *

Sparrowport died in spectacular fashion under a heavy barrage. The force was excessive, far beyond what was needed to bring the town to its end, but it appeared the Zjhon had tired of the game.

"They've just been playing with us," Brick said, tears streaming down his face while he reloaded the long gun.

"You've fought well," Barabas said. "Every bit you've weakened them will increase the chance of survival for those farther inland. Your efforts have not been for nothing."

Brick did not respond. Instead he sent another round of stone shot into the Zjhon fleet. Already he'd inflicted great damage. No matter how much they had prepared, the Zjhon had not been expecting this. What had been an orderly armada was now chaos. The ships that weren't sinking or too badly damaged to maneuver attempted to turn and sail to deeper water. Brick and those around him did everything possible to prevent that. Smoke rose from the sandbags on which the long gun rested, stone munitions heating the metal with every shot. Unavoidable friction pushed the barrel to its limits.

"Slow down, lad," Joren said. "You're going to stress the metal too much. If that gun fails, it's likely to kill us all."

"If not the gun, then it will be them," Brick said, pointing to the airplanes now soaring toward them, having dropped their payloads on the mostly empty town.

Riette hadn't seen the children or those who'd been in the small field hospital at the end of town, and she feared for their lives. The planes coming toward them posed less of a threat now, but some had not had their turrets removed. Stone shot marched a line across the grassy soil and up the sandbags surrounding the mighty gun. Brick dived behind defensive structures created for that purpose. A moment later, U-jets screamed past, each one taking aim at where Brick lay. Dust filled the air along with Riette's screams. Her friend was the primary target, and the aircraft pummeled the spot where he hid.

Wave after wave passed, not providing any break in the fire. One diesel prop approached with its heavy munitions still in place. Riette shouted in warning. Those who hid amid the sandbags and berms fled the area, knowing the power of even one of those bombs. Riette glanced over her shoulder while running toward a nearby copse of fir trees. Joren dug frantically amid the ruptured sandbags, looking for Brick. A moment later, his son emerged from a spot farther back. He grabbed his father and, despite his limp, did his best to pull the man to the place where Riette now hid. Blood and stone dust obscured most of his features, but he had never been more handsome or heroic.

The bomb released with an audible click, and an instant later, the world exploded. When the smoke cleared, the long gun remained intact but now rested at the wrong angle.

"Help me!" Brick cried, running back to the gun. No matter how valiant his heart, the flesh could endure only so much. Halfway across the field, his knees buckled. He was not alone in his bravery, though; others soon helped him, half carrying him back to the gun.

Close to half the sandbags had been ruptured or completely blasted away. There was no way to rebuild the side that had been destroyed, no matter how hard they tried, the sand simply fell away.

"Lower the far side," Joren shouted. "Take bags from the far side and use them to brace this side!"

Brick orchestrated the deconstruction of the high side. "Don't take all the bags from one spot," he said. "I want the other side built up before this thing decides to move."

As if to prove his words, the mighty gun barrel creaked and groaned while sliding into place. The sandbags held, but the whole arrangement was unstable. Riette sucked in a sharp breath when Brick lost his footing and slid into a gap between the gun barrel and the sandbags. If the enormous weight shifted while he was under there, he could be trapped or crushed. Grunting, he pulled himself free. As he did, he met Riette's eyes, and his face flushed. How he could be embarrassed by slipping while being the bravest person alive was beyond Riette's understanding. Men were unfathomable creatures. Twice more the gun came close to rolling over those trying to repair it. Only Berigor's quick reflexes kept Brick and several others from being crushed.

Riette tended to the wounded. This at least gave her something to do besides watch her friends risk their lives. Some of the townspeople were beyond help, and she tried her best to concentrate on those her efforts might save. Even those who worked around her bore wounds of their own. It wasn't fair—any of it. They had done their best and given their all, and still evil had prevailed. The world made no sense.

Again, the gun fired. No one dared hope it would be enough. It was a noble but futile effort to inflict damage on an enemy who had already won. When she looked back to where Dashiq rested, Emmet was climbing into the saddle behind Barabas. Tuck ran toward her, looking concerned. "We have to go! Now!"

"I can't," Riette answered over her shoulder, no longer looking at him. She cared for Baker Millman, the man who'd always baked the best bread in Sparrowport. He'd been among the few people who were kind to her and Emmet, and she refused to let him die. "I need bandages," she said to Tuck, and he did his best to tear cloth into strips, all the while looking over his shoulder. Riette risked a peek, only to see Barabas and her brother about to fly away. "Go," she said.

"No," Tuck said. "I'm not leaving you."

He was not as big or strong as Brick, but Riette felt safer with Tuck by her side. No matter his strengths or weaknesses, he cared about her, and that meant something. Brick continued to fire into the fleet, hoping to leave the returning aircraft with no place to land. "I need more shot!" he shouted.

"It's too much," Joren said.

Brick ignored him and loaded the mighty gun, screaming as he burned himself on hot metal. When he released the pent-up air this time, Joren's fears came to pass. Rather than sending a projectile into the enemy fleet, the barrel had begun to droop under its own weight, and its tip shattered from the force. People fell and screams filled the air.

Chaos ruled the field, and Riette realized then they should have been paying more attention to what was taking place behind them. Tuck made a choking sound, and Riette turned to see a Zjhon soldier take him down. An instant later, a hand closed over her mouth, stifling her scream. No matter how she kicked and fought, the stern-faced woman she'd seen on the Sparrowport airfield so long ago dragged her toward silent airships hovering above the trees. Within moments, a rope had been tied around Riette and she was hoisted in the air like nothing more than a sack of potatoes. Tuck was similarly tied and met her eyes while they were hauled upward.

"I'm sorry."

"No," Riette said. "I'm sorry."

It was the last thing she said for some time. The woman climbed a rope ladder beside them, her heavy boot landing squarely on Riette's jaw.

Darkness reigned.

* * *

Seeing his sister and Tuck captured by the Al'Zjhon made Emmet want to jump from the saddle and rescue them, but it was beyond his abilities. Already Dashiq moved toward the cliffs, barely able to get herself airborne. Emmet grabbed Barabas by the shoulder and turned him so he could see. Perhaps he would have gone back for them, but the Zjhon pilots returning to the naval fleet knew their fate. Amid the chaos and sinking ships, no place to land awaited. Most now turned back toward Sparrowport. Given the weight of their previous payloads, Emmet guessed they carried just enough fuel to complete the mission. Some pilots ditched and hung in the air, suspended by their parachutes. Others aimed directly for Dashiq and Berigor, who now flanked them.

Only a few planes still carried weaponry. A pair of diesel props and a squadron of U-jets opened fire. Too busy making evasive maneuvers, the dragons had no time to turn back and face the airships departing with their friends. Emmet continued to watch in horror while the first two dirigibles turned east and fled. The third still had ropes dragging on the ground. Brick and Joren ran in pursuit of Zjhon making their way back to the aircraft. Two made it to the ropes, but Brick would not be denied. Through brute force and sheer will, he tossed men aside and gained one of the ropes himself, his father not far behind. Soon the airship soared higher, Brick and Joren swinging in the wind. Fearless, the two climbed and latched on to those above them on the ropes. It was unclear if those on deck even knew they were coming, but their comrades were tossed to the winds. Higher Brick climbed.

Emmet would have continued to watch if not for the fire Dashiq was taking. Shot after shot landed on the dragon, and Barabas was also struck. No one was immune, and pain erupted in Emmet's rib cage. Nothing in his life had ever hurt so badly. Dashiq roared a battle cry and Berigor answered. The dragons took the fight to the Zjhon with unmatched fury. Planes tumbled from the air, unable to evade the enraged dragons.

The skies were afire. Tapping her final reserves, Dashiq tore into the naval fleet and finished what Brick had started. The sinking flagship now stuck up in the air, the weight of it tearing the mighty ship in two; it died with a haunting sound. Few ships remained unscathed, and Dashiq targeted those. Fewer and fewer aircraft filled the skies, but those that remained all targeted the dragons, aware Dashiq was the greatest threat and most likely knowing no safe place existed for them to land at sea or around Sparrowport. Already lost, they wished to do what damage they could to the enemy before they perished. Emmet tried not to think about having had the same feelings toward the Zjhon. How was he any better? He'd seen the desperation in the people of Sparrowport. No one would win this war. All would suffer.

Berigor tore into the planes, doing his best to protect Dashiq, but even he could not prevent her from taking additional fire. Her wing flaps slowed, and Barabas slumped in the saddle. Emmet alone remained alert and relatively uninjured. His ribs hurt but he was conscious. Part of him lamented that. To witness such tragedy was to be scarred for the rest of his days, no matter how few they may be. Watching in horror, he doubted he would ever sleep soundly again. Never had he felt truly safe, but this took his insecurity to new heights.

As the last U-jet struck the bluffs and with the naval fleet in disarray, Dashiq turned back to the east. Emmet's heart soared for a brief moment when he realized she meant to go after Tuck and Riette. He did not know how to save his sister and his friend since knocking the airships from the skies would likely kill all those aboard, but Emmet was ready to give his life in the attempt to save them. Reaching forward, he grabbed Barabas by the shoulder, checking to see if he was still alive. A gnarled hand reached up and patted Emmet's. It was enough.

Berigor flew alongside them. Keldon issued an echoing battle cry. The people who remained on the bluffs responded in earnest. Victory was theirs. None would deny the cost, but Emmet could not blame those who celebrated their very survival. Not so long ago, it had seemed they would all perish at the hands of the Zjhon, and some yet lived. It was a hollow victory for Emmet. Two of the people he cared the most about had been taken from him, and thoughts of what they might endure made him feel small and afraid. Riette had always been there for him. She'd protected him. She'd loved him when no one else had. The thought of her in Zjhon hands threatened to tear his heart to pieces. The pain was physical and as real as his bruised ribs.

Everything changed when a single diesel prop appeared from behind the peaks between them and Sparrowport. The same peaks that had hidden the long gun from the airplanes now worked against them. The gun turret rotated and opened fire. Sluggish, Dashiq was unable to avoid the attack and bore the brunt. Noble and brave, Berigor moved between the plane and Dashiq, taking some of the fire, but the damage was done. Dashiq wobbled in the air, her head drooping low.

With a rage-filled roar, Berigor winged toward the airplane, not looking much better than Dashiq. In good health, he would easily have outmaneuvered the plane, but he was battered and weak. The pilot was not interested in Berigor; the man stared straight at Emmet. Such hatred and intent to kill burned like fire. Reaching out with one claw, Berigor raked the cockpit, collapsing it inward. It was a valiant effort, but he was too late. Even out of control, the plane hurtled toward Dashiq, its inertia too much to overcome. Emmet screamed when the plane careened into them.

Displaying bravery until the end, Dashiq veered, exposing her belly to the attack, sparing Barabas and Emmet the brunt. The impact was jarring, and Emmet tasted blood. Dashiq issued a grunt laced with pain and remorse. Her head was thrown out to one side. Emmet watched, horrified. Going limp, the dragon slumped, her remaining eye rolling up into her head.

The plane dropped from the sky, along with Emmet, Barabas, and Dashiq. Only a moment before they struck the cold waves crashing into the rocky bluffs, Berigor roared, his claws closing around Dashiq. In his weakened state, he was barely able to keep them all airborne. Skimming the waves, they flew south, leaving the Jaga and the Zjhon fleet behind. Emmet's hope of rescuing his sister died in that moment.

* * *

Straining to pull himself up, hand over hand, Brick for once wished he weighed a bit less. His brawn had served him well over the years, but gravity held on to him more tightly than it did others. Only the sight of his father making progress in his climb gave him hope. Riette had been taken aboard a different airship, and he was determined not to let that vessel out of his sight. She'd slipped through his fingers once, and he wasn't about to let it happen again. Meeting his father's gaze, he nodded. The need for silence was understood. So far no one appeared to have realized they were there. The airship moved higher in the skies, making them ever more vulnerable. It would be a simple task to knock them from the ropes and send them tumbling to the rocky shoreline below. Moving east, the three airships lacked the speed of other aircraft, but their flight was stable and their capacity great.