Rodrigo snorted. “Oh, come now, you two-”
“You look,” said Dag, and he handed over the spyglass.
Rodrigo set down his tea mug on the table, took the glass, stared through it for a long moments, then handed it back to Dag. “I need something stronger than tea. Where’s the Calvados?”
“That’s for medicinal purposes only!” Miri called after him, as he dove into the hold.
“This is medicinal!” Rodrigo’s voice floated up from below. “I’m seeing giant bats!”
“Oh, for mercy’s sake!” Miri said in disgust. “I think you’ve all gone daft.”
Stephano raised the spyglass. “The beasts fly like bats, that’s for certain. The way bats dart and flit about.”
He stared, eyes squinting, trying to see. “It looks as though the bats have riders…” He lowered the glass. “Riders with glowing eyes. Like demons…”
They were all startled by a crash. Stephano turned to see Gythe, white to the lips, staring at him in horror. She had dropped the mug she was holding. It lay broken on the deck.
“This isn’t funny! You’re scaring her! Stop it, Stephano!” Miri cried. “Gythe, dear, they’re not serious. I’ll prove it. Stephano, give me the glass!”
Wordlessly, Stephano handed her the spyglass. Miri brought the glass to her eye. Her face paled. She watched a moment, then took the glass away and returned it to Stephano.
“Dag, take the helm,” said Miri. She walked over to her sister. “Gythe, come below…”
Gythe shook her head. Crooking her fingers into claws, she made a motion of tearing at flesh. Then she pointed at her eyes and pointed in the direction of the battle.
“My God!” Miri said in a low voice. “Is that what you saw? Gythe, tell me…”
Gythe shook her head wildly and began to sing. Her song was frantic and wild and desperate. She flung out her hands and strands of brilliant blue magic streamers arced and flared around the ship.
Rodrigo emerged from the hatch, Calvados bottle in hand, and stared about, appalled.
“Gythe, what are you doing? Gythe! No! Stop!”
Gythe kept flinging magic into the air. The bright blue coils twined about the masts, sparked on the balloon and danced over the deck.
“What was that about slipping away without being noticed, sir?” Dag asked worriedly. “We’re lit up like the palace on His Majesty’s birthday.”
The others stared in shock and amazement at the dazzling display, the magical blue light reflected in their faces. Gythe’s song ended in a strangled cry. She collapsed, sobbing, onto the deck.
Rodrigo handed the bottle to Stephano, then knelt down beside her, took hold of her in his arms, patting her and soothing her. She clung to him, sobbing. He looked at the others, who were standing, transfixed.
“What happened?” Rodrigo demanded. “What did you say to her?”
“It’s what she said to us,” Miri replied, her voice quivering. “Giant bats! That’s what she saw on board our ship. Blood and claw marks and…” She choked and covered her mouth with her hand.
“Giant bats with demon riders,” said Stephano.
“I suggest we leave now! ” said Rodrigo in stern tones. “This isn’t our fight, Stephano.”
“The dragon is attacking the bats, breathing fire at them.” Dag reported, keeping an eye on the battle as he steered the ship. He suddenly began swearing. “Bloody Hell! The dragon flew too close to the cutter. He set one of the masts on fire. The balloon will go next. The cutter’s liable to sink, sir.”
Stephano ran to the rail to try to see better. “Damn it! Miri was right. That dragon has never been trained for battle.”
He watched a moment longer, then said, “Dag, turn over the helm to Miri. We need to get out of here.”
“We can’t just leave, sir! There are over sixty sailors on that cutter,” Dag protested. “We can’t let them die!”
“We are five people on a houseboat,” said Stephano. “We can’t do anything to help them. Besides, there’s Gythe to consider.”
Dag glanced at Gythe, who was sobbing and shivering in Rodrigo’s arms, and he reluctantly relinquished the helm to Miri. She touched the sigils on the brass panel and sent the magic flowing out to the sails and the airscrews. The Cloud Hopper was starting to veer away when Miri, looking to the north, gave a cry and a gasp.
The mists of the Breath, generally wispy, peach in color and calm, drifting on gentle breezes, had changed. Thick clouds, black and turbid and shot with spiky, white-purple lightning, were rumbling across the sky.
“What the Hell is that?” Stephano gasped. He’d flown the Breath since he was a child through rain and snow and every type of weather and he’d never seen anything like this.
“They call it a wizard storm!” Rodrigo cried. “The magic in the Breath has gone berserk. Take cover! There’s nothing we can do except ride it out.”
He dragged Gythe through the hatch. The wind slammed it shut behind him.
“Grab hold of something and hang on!” Miri cried.
Stephano flung his arms around the mast. Dag thrust Doctor Ellington under one arm and wound his other arm around one of the ropes securing the cannons. Miri glanced around, nodded, and remained standing at the helm.
“Miri! Get down!” Stephano shouted.
Miri shook her head. Her red hair streamed out from her head, her skirts whipped around her. She was bent nearly double, her hands gripping the helm. Stephano could do nothing to help her. He tried letting go of the mast and was slammed back against the bulkhead. Dag battled the wind and managed to drag open the hatch. He tossed the terrified, spitting, and yowling cat down the stairs, then struggled over to Miri.
He braced her with his body, reaching his arms around her-one strong arm on either side-and took hold of the top of the helm. Gripping the brass helm with all his strength, he shielded Miri’s body with his own just as the wizard storm hit.
Black clouds, dark as night, engulfed the boat. Buffeting wind came at them from every direction. The boat heeled violently and Stephano thought for an agonizing moment that they were going to flip over. He couldn’t see anything until the lightning sizzled, and then everything was lit for an instant and then went dark. Thunder rolled over the boat. He clung to the bottom of the mast to keep himself from sliding across the canting deck. He heard a crash from below and he thought he heard a scream, but he couldn’t tell if the howl was a voice or the wind. His biggest fear was that one of the two cannons would break loose and go careening about the deck, crushing everything in its path. Another blast of wind hit the ship, this time from a different direction. One of the deck chairs flew across the deck, slammed into Stephano’s shin, and then went skittering off.
As quickly as the storm struck, it was gone. The clouds rumbled past. The wind was no longer wild and erratic, but no one was relieved at the change. A strong, steady breeze was blowing the Cloud Hopper directly into the line of fire.
Stephano jumped to his feet and looked around. Miri was safe, held fast in Dag’s arms. He released her and she remained at the helm, both of them flushed and breathless and unable to look at each other.
Stephano opened the hatch. “Rigo! Gythe! Are you all right?”
Rodrigo came up onto the deck, followed by Gythe, holding fast to Doctor Ellington. Rodrigo was bleeding from a cut on his forehead. Gythe was unharmed and so was the cat, though he was howling and spitting angrily, all “furred out,” his tail bristling like a bottle brush.
Gythe deposited the cat onto the deck. The Doctor ran immediately to his hiding place beneath one of the cannons and glared at them, certain they were responsible. The houseboat was being carried straight toward the battle. The wizard storm evaporated. The sun shone on the twin spires of the cathedral, the burning cutter, and the attacking bats.
Stephano whipped out the spyglass and brought it to his eye.
“Miri,” he said, keeping his voice deliberately calm, “you need to take us away from here.”
Miri’s hands flew over the sigils. She turned her head, glared at him.
“I’m trying, damn it! We’re being sucked into a vortex-”
“It’s the magic,” Rodrigo said, dabbing at the cut on his head with his handkerchief. “This storm wasn’t caused by atmospheric changes in air pressure. This storm was caused by a disruption in the magic of the Breath.”
Dag was frowning. “Remember the writings of Saint Marie. ‘And on that day the Gates of Hell will open and
