Hopper. Stephano swept the deck of the Silver Raven with his glass. He saw Rodrigo’s lavender coat and he gave a sigh of relief. Wallace was there, as well, talking to the captain. By his emphatic gestures and belligerent stance and the fact that he was aiming his pistol at the captain, the discussion was not going well.
“Flagship’s signaling, Captain!” Dag called.
Stephano lifted his spyglass, trained it on the Royal Lion. He suspected this flurry of signals must have something to do with the sudden and unexpected appearance of the Silver Raven. He could not read the flags; the codes were changed frequently so as to confuse any enemy who might be watching. He waited tensely to see if the gunboat, Capture, would respond and how it would respond.
The Capture fired a warning shot in front of the Silver Raven, ordering it to halt.
The Raven ignored the warning, continuing to add on sail in an effort to increase speed. The Cloud Hopper- now forgotten-trundled along gamely behind. The merchant ship, the gunboat, and the Cloud Hopper were now rounding a corner of the Old Fort, coming in view of the battlements and the guard towers and shore battery.
The battlements, made of magic-reinforced concrete and stone, were over a mile long. They ran along the northern Rim of the bay, up a cliff called the Short Step to the Old Fort, stretched along the shore until they reached the foot of the high, jutting cliff known as the Bastion. Beyond the cliff, the topography was wild and uninhabited, made up of hills covered with trees, outcroppings of jagged-edged granite, and spectacular falls of water where rivers cascaded off the continent and plunged into the mists of the Breath.
Stephano could see the long, black muzzles of the cannons of the shore battery thrusting out from the side of the cliff. He waited tensely for the shot that would cripple or sink the merchant vessel.
“Miri, bring us in close,” said Stephano. “We’re going to board the Raven. Dag, you’re with me.”
“Captain,” said Dag. He had his spyglass to his eye and there was a strange, strangled sound to his voice. “Look at that.”
Stephano had his pistol drawn and was standing by the port rail, ready to step onto the ship’s short wings. Miri was sailing the Cloud Hopper closer to the Silver Raven. Both of them turned to Dag, then shifted their gazes.
A darkish gray cloud rolled over the hills, moving at incredible speed, lit from within by flashes of green fire and accompanied by an eerie whirring sound-the wings of countless gigantic bats. Hell’s Gates had swung wide. Aertheum had sent his legions to attack in force.
Stephano was momentarily paralyzed by the astonishing sight. Then he looked at the naval warships, whose officers were watching the harbor, ready to stop smugglers. He looked at the fortress, at the guards enjoying the show. All unknowing, unaware of the horror about to break over them.
Stephano had to warn Hastind, make him see the approaching danger. He ran to the storage locker on the deck where they stored such objects as signal flags, rope, and patching material for the balloons and sails. He flung it open and dragged out a flag made up of four blocks: red and white on top and white and red on the bottom. The flag’s message was terse and to the point: Standing into Danger. Stephano hurriedly attached the flag to the lines and ran it up the mast of the Cloud Hopper. The question was: Would anyone see it and, if they did, would they pay attention to a flag being flown by a Trundler.
“Dag, fire a gun to get their attention. Miri, all hell is going to break loose, and we’re now right in the middle. We need to-”
He paused a moment to look at the Silver Raven. The merchant vessel was ahead of them by several hundred yards. Rodrigo would understand the nature of the peril swooping down on them. So would Henry Wallace.
The Cloud Hopper’s four-pound cannon fired with a boom that reverberated off the towering walls of the fortress. Stephano could imagine all the spyglasses on all the navy vessels now searching for the boat that had fired. He watched Wallace standing on the deck of the Silver Raven. The gunshot had caught his attention. He would be certain to think that the Cloud Hopper was firing on his ship.
Wallace, his expression grim, aimed his gun at Rodrigo.
Raising a speaking trumpet, Stephano bellowed through it. “Demons!” He jabbed his finger in the direction of the approaching swarm.
Rodrigo heard and understood. He looked over his shoulder and even from this distance Stephano could see his friend’s horrified expression. This apparently convinced Henry Wallace, for he turned to see the demons closing in. The bats were no longer a homogenous mass. They were individuals, their mouths wide, fangs gleaming. Their riders with their hideous faces twisted in fury, orange eyes glowing, were raising the green-fire, handheld cannons.
Stephano could not see Wallace’s face, but he could tell by the fact that he took an involuntary step backward and had to steady himself by grabbing onto a mast that he was astonished and alarmed.
The naval ships had heard Stephano’s warning cannon shot and seen his flag. Most captains would summarily dismiss a small Trundler boat signaling danger. A few astute captains might take the signal seriously. Every lookout in the crows’ nests above and every officer on deck below would have their spyglasses sweeping the skies, searching for the threat.
They did not have far to look.
The heavy mists of the Breath below the ships shredded. More bats and their demon riders rose from below. The demonic forces were already causing havoc in the harbor, firing their green blasts at the helpless merchant vessels, which were essentially sitting ducks. Already flames were starting to rise from burning hulls and masts. Naval gunboats were racing to their aid, but the navy was now coming under attack, as well.
A flurry of signals sailed up mastheads, captains asking the flagship what was going on. Beating drums on board all the ships sent the gun crews to their stations. The shore batteries were already prepared to enforce the blockade, their gun crews were at their posts, gunports open, guns ready to fire.
“And we’re in their sights!” Stephano realized.
Henry Wallace had reached exactly the same alarming thought.
“Miri, take her up!” Stephano shouted frantically.
“Gain altitude!” Wallace yelled.
The ship’s balloons billowed with magical energy, giving them full lift capacity. A flag with a blue cross on a white background soared up the mast on board Wallace’s ship. The flag meant: “Break off your intentions and communicate with me.” Stephano wondered what the hell Wallace was up to. Now was hardly the time to try to open negotiations with the Royal Navy! Probably a mistake, he thought. Some panicked sailor sent up the wrong signal. He was proved right in that the next moment, that flag came down and they sent up a distress signal.
Stephano shouted. “Stay on Wallace’s tail! I don’t want to lose Rigo.”
Miri tossed her red hair. “I’m supposed to sail through an army sent by the Devil himself, keep this boat from going down in flames, and all the while try to fly this boat fast enough to catch a ship that has three times her sail?”
“I have every confidence in you,” said Stephano. He grinned as he ran past her.
“You’re enjoying this!” she said accusingly.
Stephano considered her statement as he crouched behind the swivel gun and looked down the sights. “Enjoy” wasn’t the right word. He didn’t enjoy the idea that their boat might come under attack or that innocent people were dying or that he and his people might be blown up at any moment. But he knew what Miri meant.
This was danger he understood. Danger he could fight. No more hiding in the darkness, skulking about alleys or crawling over rooftops. No more getting slammed on the head from behind or sneaking out through wardrobes. No more of his mother’s sneaking, underhanded, lying way of doing business. This was war, plain and simple. Stephano knew what to do in war and he knew how to do it and he was damn good at it.
Dag had loaded both the swivel guns. While in Westfirth, he’d found time to buy more canisters of ammunition, for they were stacked neatly on the deck. Dag had said nothing about it, of course. All part of his job.
Stephano looked at Dag: steady, cool, calm, undaunted in the face of danger. He looked at Miri, her lips pressed together in grim determination, her hands flying over the brass helm, paying no heed to the demons or the bursts of green fire or the flashes of fire from the guns of the shore battery. He looked out across the widening expanse between their ship and the Silver Raven and saw Rodrigo, seated at his ease in a deck chair while chaos erupted around him. Stephano looked at Gythe, who was now crouched on the deck at the bottom of the mast, terrified nearly out of her wits, but refusing to hide, singing softly to maintain the magic that would protect the Cloud Hopper.
