The Crucible of the Dragon God

Suddenly The Mole lurched again, far more violently than the first time, and all three of its passengers clung onto their seats as it began to move forward. The relative quiet of the last few moments was replaced by the noise of a series of loud crashes that, together with the thwooming of the still active sonic cannons, was deafening. Kali realised that, with the combination of the yhang-dor's momentum and the cannons themselves, they were actually ploughing through the obstacle ahead of them. Not only that, if her senses weren't betraying her, but up.

What was more, the cannons were clearly damaging the yhang-door from the inside, and by virtue of the fact that its resultant screeching was becoming louder than the cacophony caused by their passage through the roof-fall, it didn't like that at all. It began, in fact, to vibrate and spasm around them, and Kali was just beginning to wonder what would happen to the Mole when two things happened at once.

The yhang-dor smashed through the last of the blockages and promptly exploded, and the forward observation slat — after taking a moment to drain itself of clinging gore — exposed the interior of the cabin to a brilliant white light.

Either they had just ascended to Kerberos, Kali considered, or The Mole's two day journey through the Lost Canals of Turnitia had been considerably shortened by the fact that they had been forced to move a lot more quickly than anticipated. And if she was right, they were just where they wanted to be. There was only one way to find out.

Kali activated The Mole's hatch, then licked a fleck of snow from the end of her nose. Yup, that tasted right. She smiled and turned to a somewhat stunned Aldrededor and Dolorosa.

'Welcome to the Drakengrats. I think we walk from here.'

Chapter Eleven

Three dots moved across the pristine white landscape. Some leagues, and a day's climb, behind them, the landscape was stained by a great splotch of yellow gore that spread away from a jagged, irregular hole in the snow. Next to that sat the skewed, abandoned remains of a broken machine from which smoke curled lazily into the pure mountain air. Ahead of the dots lay a series of jagged peaks, rising ever higher until they seemed to touch the clouds themselves. But the majesty of these seemed, for the moment, lost on those who trudged wearily through the snow.

The crunching of their boots echoed through the ether, and then the echo of their voices — and then that of a slap.

'Do notta droppa the litter!'

'It is but a crust, my darling.'

'Anda who willa pick up the crust in this Gods-forsaken place, hah? No, 'usband, it issa the litter!'

'My wife, we are dreaded pirates of the high seas — we have done worse things.'

'We were pirates, my 'usband! Nowwa we are the respectable proprietors of a tavern witha the great potential!'

A cough echoed alongside the voices, and a second passed.

'Nowwa we are the respectable manageers ovva taverno witha the great potential, and we — '

'Nice butties,' the owner of the cough interjected. Its tone suggested the matter should be closed.

'I amma sorry, boss lady,' the first voice said again.

Kali stared at Dolorosa and Aldrededor as the two of them ate and trudged wearily alongside her, chewing on her own surprise stew butty ruminatively. That she had finally decided to eat one of Dolorosa's mushy concoctions was a reflection that the current trek had, for all of them, turned out to be more gruelling than expected. Even her normal wariness about one disturbing aspect of the ex-pirate's signature dish — that it never, ever cooled down — had been set aside in favour of getting something warm inside her. Because the one thing that could be said about the Drakengrats was that they were farking cold.

She hadn't expected to lose The Mole, of course. With The Mole this whole affair would have been one hells of a lot easier, but at least they had the furs and equipment she had instructed Aldrededor to bring with the vehicle. Trouble was, even with The Mole, they would have faced the same problem. That she didn't have the faintest idea where she, Aldrededor and Dolorosa were meant to be going. It was all right for the old man to send her to 'a place in the clouds' but there were a lot of clouds, and a lot of mountains beneath them — exactly which one of them had he meant?

Kali could only hope that she and the others stumbled across some kind of clue. A signpost 'To The Crucible', perhaps. Or another explosion that no one for leagues could miss. Or, best of all, another pack of k'nid swarming from the place they originated, so that they could follow their trail back whence they came.

Yes, just like those.

Exactly like those, in fact.

'Kali Hooper, something comes,' Aldrededor pointed out, rather unnecessarily.

'It issa the theengs like-a leaves fromma the Flagons.'

Kali stared up the narrow pass they had been negotiating. At its very top, the k'nid were swarming over the ridge like a dark avalanche, before tumbling down the white mountainside towards them. At the speed they were moving, she estimated they had about two minutes before the things were on them.

'Hide,' Kali instructed, in a tone which left no doubt how important a manoeuvre that was going to be.

'Hide-a, she says,' Dolorosa protested, throwing up her arms. 'And-a how exactly are we meanta to do that?'

'My wife is correct, Kali Hooper. There is nowhere for us to go.'

Her attention having been so fixed on the k'nid, Kali hadn't noticed they were in a part of the pass totally devoid of any cover and edged by sheer rock faces on either side. She might be able to make a leap up them to safety but the Sarcreans had no chance of doing so, and there was no way she was leaving them down here alone.

For the first time since they had started on their journey, she truly regretted allowing them to come along and, for a moment, felt a totally uncharacteristic bolt of panic. Her friends were going to die unless she did something quick.

Kali was about to unsling her crackstaff, ready to make a last stand when -

'Looka!' Dolorosa cried suddenly, and pointed up. 'There!'

Kali snapped her gaze to where Dolorosa pointed and, at first, wasn't sure what she was looking at. Then she realised that something was caught, flapping in the wind, on a sharp piece of rock thirty feet above their heads. It looked to be, of all things, a large torn piece of white sailcloth. But that was impossible, surely. After all what kind of ship — wrecked or otherwise — would have been able to find its way here?

Impossible or not, it appeared to have galvanised Dolorosa. Eyes sparkling, she turned to Aldrededor and said: 'I never though I would havva the chance to say this again, my 'usband, but we must battena down the hatches!'

Aldrededor's eyes also sparkled. 'My wife, I love you!' He turned to Kali and pointed at the cloth. 'Kali Hooper, if you would be so good as to…'

Kali didn't have a clue what they were on about. 'Why?'

Dolorosa thrust her face in hers, her dark eyes narrowing. 'Because, bossa lady, it ees oura turn to save youra life, forra once. Nowwa do as I say!'

That was good enough for Kali and she went for the cloth, reaching it in three acrobatic leaps, delivering it seconds later to the hands of Dolorosa. The ex-pirate and her husband pulled it taut and then held it about a foot above the snowy ground, whereupon Kali was ordered to lie underneath. This she did without argument and, a second later, Aldrededor and Dolorosa joined her, pulling the cloth down tightly over them all.