Bloodfire Quest (The Dark Legacy of Shannara, #2)(32)

Austrum walked by, grim-faced and aloof, and did not bother even to look at her. Edras was in the pilot box, unlocking the gears and levers and readying the airship controls. She joined Chance Boy and Rideout, who were trimming the rigging in expectation of the blow, reducing light sheaths to a bare minimum. The rest were lashing down everything that might shift in flight. This was not the sort of day she had envisioned after so many dry and windless ones. Today would be something altogether different, and she did not like to think of what that would mean to their efforts to find the Ard Rhys.

They took time to eat in shifts, their meals quickly prepared and eaten. There was a decided sense of urgency. If they could get moving quickly enough, they might be able to reach their unknown destination before the storm hit. What it had taken the Ard Rhys and company days to reach on foot they could expect to reach in a couple of hours. No one thought this would happen, given the speed and look of the approaching storm, but at least they could make significant progress before they had to anchor and wait it out.

The wind was blowing harder but the rain was still holding off as they hauled in the anchor and lifted away from their mooring site. Mirai stood with Edras in the pilot box, the pieces of the broken coin clutched in one hand, reading the brightening and dimming of their glow to determine the direction the Walker Boh should take. She had not known before what she would have to do in order to find the way. But as soon as the airship had begun to fly, the coins had responded, and it had immediately become clear what was needed. Still, knowing and acting on that knowledge were two different things. The high winds buffeted the Walker Boh like a toy, and she was continually knocked off course. Edras fought the wheel until he was exhausted and suddenly Austrum was there to take his place, seizing the wheel and holding it steady. Mirai glanced at him, but he refused to look back.

When the rains came, they had still not reached their destination. With sheets of rain whipping over them, the light sheaths reduced to tatters and the ship caught in the grip of a north wind shaking her like a cat would a rat, there was every reason to believe they might go down.

“We have to get out of this!” Mirai yelled at Austrum.

The Rover shouted something back that was lost in the wind’s piercing scream. But his hands flew over the airship’s controls, and the airship began to descend toward the layers of mist and the stone spears they concealed.

Forward, Chance Boy on the starboard railing and Pursett on the port shouted back and gestured for them to not go any lower. It was clear they had caught at least a glimpse of the wicked tips of the Fangs right under them.

Austrum reached over and pulled Mirai close. “We have to get down farther if we don’t want to be shaken to pieces,” he shouted in her ear.

“Watch for my signals!” she responded. And without waiting for his response, she rushed forward.

Positioning herself next to Chance Boy, who was barely out of his teens, she peered into the shifting haze of the mist and rain, searching for an opening. She pulled the pieces of the coin from her pocket and took a quick peek through her fingers. The glow was sharp and clear; the Ard Rhys was not far away. Putting the pieces away again, she braced herself against the railing and peered over the side. She could just make out the dark spear points of the Fangs below. She held up her hands where Austrum could see them through the darkness and downpour, motioning him left and then right, guiding him toward a place where a landing might be possible. All they needed to do was to descend far enough to secure mooring lines and ride out the rest of the storm.

Worried that she might be thrown overboard by the turbulence, Chance Boy had secured a safety line about her waist—something she had failed to do herself. She was balanced against the railing, her boots hooked into the struts to help hold her in place. She was being knocked about, but she was holding on and the safety line assured she would not fall even if she was dislodged.

But then she missed seeing a cluster of the spikes materialize right underneath the hull as she signaled Austrum to maneuver toward a hole in the mist. The jagged stone ripped through the planking, knocking the Walker Boh askew and tearing out the hull far enough up on the bow that it took out the railing to which she was tethered.

With a startled gasp, she went over the side and tumbled away.





10





Pain.

It ratcheted through Mirai’s body as she woke and tried to move. It flooded her senses and made her go instantly still.

Something is wrong.

She was hanging upside down, she realized, suspended by the safety line fastened about her waist, swinging slowly back and forth through a shroud of haze and grayness and damp. Rain was lashing her face, blown by storm winds that had not abated in their fury.

How long have I been unconscious?

She tried moving again, and this time realized that she was wrapped up in the safety line in a way that pinned her left arm to her side and tangled her legs. The pain seemed to be generated as much by this as by any injury, although on looking up to where the broken piece of the ship’s rail anchored her to the branches she had tumbled through, she wasn’t so sure.

But at least she was alive.

All was rain and howling wind, so she knew she was still in the thick of the storm and not much time could have elapsed. Maybe hardly any at all. Her head ached fiercely, and she supposed she had struck it hard enough falling through the tree branches to black out.