You'll just have to learn to live with it.»

«I won't 'just live with it.' How can you stop me?» Asedow asked obnoxiously.

«Shut up, brat, and listen to your betters,» the old woman named Iranika called out.

«Who is with me?» Potria called out, ignoring the crone. «We've been insulted by this stranger. He claims he has stopped our power for our benefit, but he is going to give it to marsh-creatures. He wants to rule Ozran with that skinny wench at his side and Chaumel as his lackey!»

«Potria!» Nokias thundered, spinning his chariot in midair to face her. «You are out of order. Asedow, back to your place.»

«Friends, please,» Chaumel began.

«You give more consideration to a fur-face than to one of your own, Nokias,» Asedow taunted. «Perhaps you'd rather be one of them—powerless, and fingerless!»

He started to draw up power to form one of his famous smoke clouds. All he could generate was a puff. Keff could see him strain and clench his amulet, trying to find more power. The cloud grew to the size of his head, then dissipated. Asedow panted. Nokias laughed.

«To me, Asedow!» Potria called. «We must work together!» Her chariot flew upward, out of its place in the bowl. Asedow, Lacia, Ferngal, and a handful of others joined her in a ring. At once, a lightning bolt rocketed from their midst. It would have struck the edge of the platform but for the thin shield Chaumel threw up.

«This is thin,» he said to Keff. «It will not hold.»

Nokias, Zolaika, Ilnir, and Iranika flew down from their places toward the platform.

«This means trouble,» Nokias called. «How much power is there left?»

«Not much beyond what it takes to run your chariots,» Keff said.

«They can pervert that, too,» Zolaika warned. «See!»

Recognizing the beginnings of a battle royal, many of the other mages turned their chairs and headed for the exit. The chariots started to falter, dipping perilously toward the rows of turbines as the combined will of the dissidents drew power away from them. Many turned back and crowded over the platform, fighting for landing space.

«I will stop them,» Tall said, his huge hands clenched over the belt-buckle amulet.

«No,» Keff said. «If you turn off the power, all these mages will fall.»

«I will end this,» Zolaika said. «Brothers and sisters, to me.» At once, Nokias, Ilnir, and a cluster of other magifolk added their meager strength to that of the senior magess. Accompanied by straining sounds from the generators, she built a spell and threw it with all the force left in her toward the ring of dissidents.

Cries of fear came from the fleeing mages, whose chairs faltered like fledgling birds. The great chamber rumbled, and infant stalactites cracked from the ceiling. Sharp teeth of rock crashed to the platform. The mages warded themselves with shields that barely repelled the missiles. Keff jumped away as a three-foot section of rock struck the standard next to him. It bounced once and fell over the side, clattering down into the midst of the machinery.

In the circle of dissidents high up in the cavern, Potria and her allies held out their hands to one another. Keff could see bonds of colored light forming between them, one ring for each mage or magess that joined them.

«Problem, Keff,» Carialle said. «They've reestablished their connection to the Core's controls.»

«They are pulling,» Plenna said, grabbing Keff's arm. «They're pulling at the Core, trying to break the barrier holding the power down—they've done it!»

«Tall, stop them!» Keff shouted.

«No can,» the amphibioid semaphored hastily. «Old, broken.»

«Coming on full now,» Carialle's voice informed him.

With a mighty roar, the generators revved up to full force. The mages whose chariots were limping toward the exit hurtled out of the cavern as if sling-shot. Keff groaned as he smelled scorched silicon. He and the frogs hadn't been able to do more than patch the fail-safes. Now they were melted and beyond repair.

«As your liege I command you to cease!» Nokias shouted at the dissidents.

«You do not command me, brother,» Ferngal jeered. He raised his staff and aimed it at Nokias. A bolt of fire, surprising even its creator in its size and intensity, jetted toward Nokias. The golden mage dodged to one side to avoid it. His chair, also oversupplied by the Core, skittered away on the air as if it were on ice. It was a moment before he could control it. In that short time, Ferngal loosed off several more bolts. They all missed but the last, which took off one of Nokias's armrests. Fortunately, the golden mage's arms were raised. He was readying a barrage of his own.

Lacia had engaged Chaumel. The two of them exchanged explosive balls of flame that grew larger and larger as each realized that the Core had resumed transmission. Dissidents dive-bombed the platform. With admirable calm and dead aim, Chaumel managed to keep them all from getting any closer.

«Stop!» Keff yelled. «The more power you use the closer we come to blowing up!»

With an eldritch howl, Potria swooped down at Keff, taloned fingers stretched put before her. He saw the red lightning forming between them and dove under the low console. Brannel and the frogs were already huddled there. Tall Eyebrow stood with his back to his companions, protecting them. Keff wished for a weapon, any kind of weapon. He saw his faux-hide toolkit, hanging precariously near the edge of the platform, anchored only by the edge of a chair that had landed on it. He rose to his hands and knees, and scrambled out of his hiding place, shielded by the cluster of chariots.

With power restored, Brochindel the Scarlet chose that moment to lift off in an attempt to flee the battle going on over his head. Keff threw himself on his belly with one hand out. He managed to grab one centimeter of strap by one joint of one hooked finger. Potria saw him lying there exposed, and screamed, coming around in the air and diving in anew. Wincing at the weight of the tool bag, Keff hoisted it up and dragged it into the lee of the console. He turned out the contents in search of a weapon. Hammers, no. Spanners, no. Aha, the drill! It had a flexible one-meter bit.

«The knight shall have his sword,» Carialle said. «Get 'er, Sir Keff.»

His fingers scrabbled on the chuck, trying to get the bit loose. Potria, her power overextended by the immediacy of the Core, threw a ball of fire that left a molten scar in the platforms surface. Keff bounced up as she passed and snapped his erstwhile sword-blade out. He smacked Potria on the back of the hand. She dropped her amulet, but it fell only into her lap.

«You . . . you peasant!» she screamed, for lack of a better epithet. «You struck me!»

Plennafrey hurried to Keff's side. The Frog Prince had her belt buckle, but she still possessed her fathers sash. Working the depressions with her long fingers, she formed a thin shell of protection around the two of them and the console. Potria veered upward when her target changed, and retreated, but not until Plennafrey poked a small hole in the shield. She scooped up a chunk of fallen rock and threw it after the pink-gold magess. It struck Potria in the back of the arm, provoking a colorful string of swear words as, this time, the magess lost her grip on her power object. She swooped down to retrieve it before it fell into the machinery.

«Good throw, Plenna!» Keff said, hugging her with one arm.

«Conservation of energy,» Plenna said brightly, grinning at Keff.

Asedow zoomed in, his mace at the ready. Keff ducked flat to the floor, avoiding the smoke-bubble bombs, then sprang up. With a flick of his improvised epee, he engaged Asedow and disarmed him, flinging the mace away into the void. Swearing, Asedow reversed. He glanced down at the spinning engines, and felt among the robes at his chest. He uncovered a small amulet and planted his fingers in it.

«Damn!» Carialle said. «I don't have a record for that one.»

Fortunately, Asedow didn't use it immediately. Too soon, Potria reappeared over the edge of the platform, her teeth set.

«I just wanted to say farewell,» she said, her eyes shining with a mad light. «I'm going on a frog hunt! Are you with me, Asedow!»

«I am, sister!» the green mage chortled. «Our new overlords will be so surprised we came to visit!»

Sounds of alarm erupted from underneath the console. Tall emerged, signaling frantically. Potria, as a parting gesture, threw a handful of scarlet lightning at him. Tall shielded almost automatically, and went on gesturing, panic-stricken.

«My people,» he repeated over and over. «My people!»

«We have to stop them!» Keff said. Plennafrey broke the bubble around them, and the three headed for her

Вы читаете The Ship Who Won
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