the fell legions of Aertheum will fly forth on hideous beasts and the Breath will erupt in fire and the stars fall… ’ ”
“Ah,” said Rodrigo, looking at the blood on the handkerchief. “Hit by a falling star. That explains it.”
Dag glowered. He was a devout man and took his faith very seriously.
“Not the time for jesting, Rigo,” said Stephano quietly.
Rodrigo nodded his head toward Gythe. “Look at her if you don’t believe me. She feels the magic. And so can I. I’ve gone all gooseflesh and it’s not because I’m shivering with terror-even though I am. Our little boat is caught in the wild, foaming waters of a magical rapids.”
Rodrigo pointed to the giant bats and their demonic riders. “Wherever they have come from, that green fire is not ‘fire.’ It’s magic of some sort. Very powerful magic. So powerful that it is fomenting this wizard storm. Which must mean…”
He paused, his brows drawing together in thought.
“But it can’t be… It’s not possible!”
“Rigo-”
“Not now. I have to think.”
Rodrigo went back down belowdecks. They heard a thud and a crash and a “Bloody Hell! Where are my books?” Followed by, “Oh, never mind, I found them,” and then silence.
Stephano was only half-listening. They were being sucked rapidly closer to the coastline. The abbey and its walls were now visible through the mists. Bats swarmed over the walls. The abbey itself was under assault. On board the cutter, the sailors had managed to douse the flames, but the mast was gone. The captain had ordered chains dropped over the sides, to keep the bats from attacking the ship from below. A few cannons continued to fire. The cutter, though crippled, was gamely fighting on. But as Stephano watched, the cutter fired a distress signal.
The dragon flew in circles above the ship, no longer fighting the bats. Naval officers had small use for dragons, anyway, and Stephano could imagine the captain’s rage at the dragon who had accidentally set the mast on fire. The captain must have furiously ordered the dragon to keep his distance.
And yet, Stephano thought, the dragon has a much better chance of killing these monsters with his fire than the naval gunners have of hitting one of the swift flying creatures. The Cloud Hopper was being drawn ever closer.
“They’ve seen us,” said Stephano.
Several bats had veered off from the attack on the cutter. The demon riders, with their strange fiery orange eyes, seemed to be staring straight at him. He hurriedly lowered the spyglass and turned to Gythe.
“Those spells of yours. Will they protect the boat?”
Gythe cast a frightened glance at the bats and shrank away. Shaking her head, she put her hands over her ears.
“She is afraid of the… er… demons,” said Miri with a glance at Dag. “Gythe says their words hurt her. They’re trying to get inside her head.”
“Words? I don’t hear any words. And how can they get inside her?”
Miri gave a helpless shrug. “I don’t know what she means.”
Stephano took hold of Gythe’s hands and drew them away from her ears, forcing her to listen to him.
“Gythe, dear, we don’t have a choice. Those demons or whatever they are have seen us. They may attack us at any moment. Those spells of protection you cast… This is the reason you cast them! Does your magic work?”
Gythe looked uncertain, then she gave him a tremulous smile and tilted her head and made a gesture with her hand as of something coming out of her throat.
“She needs to sing the magic,” said Miri, translating. “If she sings, the protection spells will work.”
“Good,” Stephano said. He paused, struck by a sudden, unwelcome thought. “These spells won’t stop us from firing our guns at the bats, will they? I mean, the cannonballs won’t bounce off the magic and hit us…”
Gythe flashed an indignant look at him and made a rude gesture. Miri started to translate. Stephano grinned.
“No need. I understand. I’m sorry, Gythe. It was a stupid question. Dag-”
“Yes, sir.”
Stephano cleared his throat, uncomfortable. “If those creatures are demons…”
“ ‘The righteous will be called upon to drive them back through the gates,’ sir,” said Dag.
“Yes, good,” said Stephano, relieved.
“We’ll use the swivel guns,” said Dag. “No time to load the cannons.”
The swivel guns were small, breech-loading cannons mounted on the rail of the boat. The guns had removable chambers that could be preloaded with powder and grapeshot and then inserted into the breech. Once the gun had been fired, all the gunner had to do was to remove the spent chamber and ram home another. The four swivel guns also had the advantage of mobility. The gunner could pick one up and carry it to another part of the ship, whereas the cannons were mounted on trucks that were roped in place.
Dag headed down below to fetch the chambers. The Cloud Hopper had two four-pounder cannons, mounted on the main deck, one on the starboard side and one on the port, and one “frog”, so-called because the cannon’s squat body and wide mouth resembled the reptile. The frog was positioned on the sterncastle, placed there to protect the helm. The frog fired an enormous cannonball, twenty-four pounds, or a variety of other types of shot, but had limited range.
Few Trundler vessels were so well armed. Most could not have afforded such expensive weapons, and there was generally no need for Trundlers to have to defend themselves. The biggest danger in the Breath was from pirates, and they almost never attacked Trundler houseboats, for the Trundlers carried little of value. A Trundler boat might be armed with a single swivel gun or an old-fashioned ballista. Most relied on muskets and pistols for defense.
“Dag!” Stephano shouted down the hatch. “While you’re there, bring your pipes!”
Dag stopped on the stairs and stared up at him in astonishment. “My what?”
“Bring your bagpipes! And tell Rigo to quit reading and start helping!”
Dag shook his head in bewilderment and continued on down.
“Why do you want him to play the pipes?” Miri asked tersely. “A funeral dirge as we’re dragged into Hell?”
Stephano didn’t answer. He was gazing at the cutter, measuring the distance between them with his eye.
“Miri, there must be some way for you to steer this boat.” He looked up at the balloon. “We have lift. We’re not sinking…”
Miri sighed, then, and shook her head. “Only in the direction the magic is taking us. We can’t maneuver or change course.”
“All you need to do is aim for the cutter. That’s more or less sailing in a straight line.” Stephano pointed in the direction they needed to go. “If we can reach the cutter, we can team up to protect each other.”
Sixty sailors defending the cutter, five on the Cloud Hopper. Six counting the Doctor, who had been forcibly removed from beneath the cannon by Gythe. Judging by the cat’s dismal howls, the good Doctor was now locked up in the storage closet.
Dag emerged onto the deck, carrying a large wooden case in one hand and a gunnysack filled with preloaded canisters in another. Rodrigo followed, staggering beneath the weight of a similar sack, which he flung with a sigh onto the deck, narrowly missing his own foot, and turned to Stephano.
“I found what I was looking for. An early Church edict banning-”
“Rigo, where’s the water?” Dag demanded. “I told you to fetch water!”
“In a moment. This is important-”
“So is our need for water,” said Stephano. “In case we need to put out the fires. Dag’s right, Rigo. You can explain all this magic stuff to me later.”
“If there is a later,” said Rodrigo in ominous tones, and he ran back down below to the hold where they stored the water barrels.
Stephano looked back through the spyglass at the demons. He could see them more clearly, and he had to
