Dragonhold (Book 2) (14 page)

Only a thrustmaster could fly a howler, but he firmly believed the talent could be cultivated. Catrin and Gwen had both learned to do it and so would others. The comet storm's power grew still and would continue for many years to come. The goddess would touch people, and Kenward would find them. Never would he have dared ask Gwen, but his niece had simply insisted. If the howler fell from his deck with her on it, what was he to do? At the very least, she would test the ship moving under thrust. That alone gave Kenward a thrill.

Nothing like his other creation, though, was the one he called a bumblebee. Firmly secured, it waited for him at middeck. This aircraft Kenward would test himself. It wasn't as pretty as the howler, but the bumblebee was an entirely different creature. Made from the lightest materials possible, it resembled something one might find on a shipwreck. Canvas and line connected to a stalkweed frame with lightwood joints and sub frame. Though crude and limited, it could change the world. Having more nimble aircraft that did not require the use of Istra's powers could allow Kenward to protect his fleet, thrustmasters or not.

The thought of employing a flightmaster and thrustmaster as his sister did was not altogether unappealing. However, Kenward detested relying solely on skills he did not himself possess. It had been a source of trouble for him over the years. In the end, he had decided it wise to use Istra's power when possible and supplement with perhaps more mundane but equally advanced design and innovation.

Benjin burst from the boiler house. "That's a lot of heat, Kenward. I'm not sure the boiler walls are thick enough to handle that kind of pressure."

"I need the steam and compressed air," Kenward said with a shrug. "It should hold."

Benjin shook his head and turned to his wife. "Stay away from the boiler house." He didn't say anything about Gwen. He'd not said a word to his daughter since she insisted on going. "Perhaps you should test the big ship first," he said after a moment, "and then test the . . . other . . . things on a subsequent voyage once you've worked out any kinks."

It was sound advice he'd already been given, and Kenward acknowledged it. Benjin stepped off the deck as the main windsocks inflated. Smaller, round windsocks, tethered to each corner of the ship, filled quickly, and soon timbers creaked.

"Are you going to name this vessel before she leaves dock?" Fasha asked.

"I dub this ship the
Portly Dragon
."

His sister shook her head in disbelief. Kenward grinned, and no one suggested a more fitting name for the blocky ship. If not for the skillfully crafted masthead, one might say the
Portly Dragon
was ugly and would have no way to know which end was the bow and which the stern. Kenward had recognized this problem early on and had
port
and
starboard
painted on the decks to make sure there was never any confusion over his orders. He'd also had danger zones clearly marked, such as the area in front of the thrust tubes.

Largely unobstructed, the deck was surrounded by ropes attached to iron rings at the corners and along the edges. Boiler house and deckhouse stood opposite one another for the sake of balance, hugging the outer edges of the ship to keep the center of the deck clear from one end to the other.

Black smoke poured from the chimstack, and a loud whistling warned the pressure might, indeed, be too much. "Everyone keep clear of the boiler house!" Kenward shouted. "Don't all crowd the other side, either. Mind the distribution of weight."

"I told you," Benjin said just as the ship left the dry dock's timbers, caught the breeze, and glided out toward the sea. Dragons filled the air around them, ready to assist if needed. Kenward sincerely hoped their presence proved unnecessary; still, he was glad they were there.

The fires had been stoked and would continue to burn on their own. Kenward did not plan to add more fuel for this flight. A safe cruising altitude was his first goal, immediately followed by testing the howler and bumblebee. As excited as he was about the
Portly Dragon
's maiden flight, the other craft had filled his dreams for weeks, and he couldn't wait to see his vision made real. Not many got the chance to see their ideas through to fruition. This day would change the rest of his life, one way or another.

Sitting between the thrust tubes mounted on a rotating platform at the stern, Gwen applied her will, and the
Portly Dragon
moved faster for a brief time. To Kenward's delight, the ship possessed greater stability than the
Serpent
had ever achieved. Outfitted as she was, cargo would be limited. On the Godfist he'd have access to materials for sturdier boilers. After that, his cargo capacity would be five times that of the
Dragon's Wing
. The steam-powered propeller with its sharp whistle generated far less thrust than Gwen, but it did move the ship forward. The
Portly Dragon
could not match the
Wing
's speed or maneuverability, but it could fly under its own power, and that meant something to Kenward.

It was for that reason the bumblebee existed. The howler required someone with the skills of a thrustmaster and, to a lesser extent, a flightmaster. Kenward hoped the bumblebee would allow him the same type of freedom he expected the howler to give Gwen. The anticipation was almost too much for him, but they had agreed not to take off until shallow, rocky waters had been left behind. The
Dragon's Wing
moved under wind and sail alone, heading for the deeps.

Kenward had argued the aircraft would be easier to recover if they crashed in shallow seas, but Benjin insisted deeper water meant less chance of his daughter hitting the bottom. This logic was difficult to ignore, and Kenward paced the deck until they reached dark water.

Farsy and Jessub inspected ropes and anchors, checking for any weakness in the ship's construction. Already, Farsy had expressed concern over a number of the cleats where the ropes were secured, but he didn't seem overly alarmed. Kenward pretended not to notice.

When the
Dragon's Wing
and the
Portly Dragon
reached water deep enough to suit Benjin, Kenward grinned at Gwen and gestured toward the howler. The girl practically ran to the experimental aircraft and strapped herself in. Walking across the deck, which barely moved under his boots, Kenward felt as if he walked on solid ground. Sinjin on Valterius and Kendra on Gerhonda flying in escort, watching their every move, made this strange experience even more surreal.

After one final check, Kenward patted Gwen on the back, reminded her to secure her goggles, and wished her the luck of the gods.

The world stood still for Kenward in that moment; Gwen wore a grin to match his own. Waxed skis glided over polished hardwood. Making good on its name, the howler issued an earsplitting report. For a moment Kenward worried the small aircraft wouldn't have enough speed at runway's end, but then Gwen pushed forward the pedals controlling the wing flaps, and the spring-loaded skis left the deck. With runway to spare, the howler took flight. If the driving force hadn't made it worthy of its namesake, the sound Gwen made riding it would have.

Few things rendered Kenward Trell speechless, but seeing the howler screeching through the air did the job. He stood with his mouth hanging open as Gwen outran the regal dragons flying in support. After a graceful, easy turn, she passed the
Dragon
and gave Kenward an enthusiastic thumbs-up. After two more passes, Gwen sent the howler straight up--a maneuver no airship could replicate. Then the air went silent. Losing speed, the howler fell over backward and raced back toward the seas below. In a move that made Kenward more proud of Gwen than he'd ever been before, she turned up the thrust. The
Portly Dragon
and
Dragon's Wing
swayed as she cleaved the air between them. It was the most the deck had moved under Kenward's feet since they had taken off.

Even with the wind and the howler's report filling the air, Benjin's shouting could be heard coming from the
Dragon's Wing
. Gwen ignored him for two more passes before making a slower pass over the runway. This was the part Kenward feared most. Taking off from the deck of a moving airship was one thing, but landing on that same deck was something entirely different. They had planned for Gwen to make two practice approaches before deciding to attempt the landing or to ditch the howler in the water. Valterius waited, ready to pluck Gwen from the howler if she chose to bail out.

Much slower on her second approach, Kenward worried it was too slow. If she lost any more momentum, there would be no pulling up. She was already committed by the time Kenward and others tried to wave her off. Nothing anyone could have said would change the situation beyond that moment. Kenward's crazy ideas would be tested here and now. If Gwen got hurt in the process, he'd never forgive himself. He'd probably also spend the rest of his life running from his brother-in-law.

Despite having lined the howler
up perfectly with the runway, Gwen did not have time to correct when a sudden gust twisted the howler sideways. The left ski hit the deck first, the angle sending the aircraft spinning back in the other direction. The second ski touched down but missed the polished hardwood runway, encountering drag instead as it slid across the much rougher lightwood.

Gwen held on as best she could but was slapped back and forth three times before the howler stabilized, still carrying too much speed. Kenward thought she might have to abandon the landing, but then she did something he'd never considered. Reversing the air flow, Gwen used the thrust tubes as brakes. Skidding to a halt mere hand widths from the edge, she raised her hands and cheered in triumph.

Benjin's cursing could be heard for some time to come.

Chapter 14

What is grotesque to one is art to another.

--Matteo Dersinger, mad prophet

* * *

Watching the ancient dragon sleep, Pelivor told himself the mighty beast was truly unconscious and not just waiting for him to make the wrong move. The giant jaws could engulf him in a single bite, and Pelivor tried his best to keep that image from his mind. Catrin needed him, and the rest of Godsland would suffer if Mael escaped. The energy stored in the massive green crystals was largely dissipated, and his form still vibrated from the release of it.

"We're going to have to do that again, aren't we?" Pelivor asked.

"In time the charge will build back up, yes," she said. "For now, we've left it far lower than it was when we arrived. Mael had not yet been able to escape even with that energy at his disposal, so I think we'll have some time."

"And if he's awake and guarding it when we return?"

"Then we knock him back out," Catrin said. "Koe is fully charged, and any energy the crystals here impart to Mael will also be available to us."

Pelivor just shook his head and hoped with all his might he didn't have to face Mael again. Something about that dragon was more terrifying than all the rest, and it wasn't just his size. Dragon fire was a part of it, but there was something else. He couldn't quite place it, but it nagged at him, making him feel foolish for not understanding.

"So we just leave him here?" Pelivor asked.

"What would you do?" Catrin asked softly. There was a dangerous note in her voice.

Pelivor could not back away from the truth. "Kill him now. Free his spirit if not his body. End it."

Looking thoughtful, Catrin was silent for some time. "I don't want to kill him."

There was no explanation and perhaps none needed. Pelivor knew Catrin well enough to know she didn't like to kill anything, let alone something completely defenseless. "We may come to regret that decision."

"Then so be it." Catrin's voice was hard and cold.

"I'm sorry," Pelivor said a moment later. "I don't like killing things either, but it is sometimes necessary. Such a powerful enemy within the hold frightens me. Already he's manipulated us. What's to stop him from doing it again?"

"Now we know what he was doing, and we'll be on the alert. We've reduced his power. Worry no more over this for today. There are things we must do."

Nodding, Pelivor climbed down and joined Catrin at the stone god's feet. The waters continued to rage through his open mouth. Fish and sometimes driftwood and other debris entered the cavern. Much of it continued away, disappearing into the closed channel carrying the river water deeper into the hold. Always when Pelivor had seen the underground oasis where the river water once again emerges, he'd thought the river entered the hold there. Never would he have guessed that it passed through here first.

Those who remained within Dragonhold had done what they could to restore order. Despite none of them knowing the name of the god depicted, the cavern was undoubtedly a holy place. This was part of what bothered Pelivor about the ancient dragon's taking up residence there. The dragon's presence desecrated the now scarred and fire-scorched landscape.

"Come," Catrin said, offering him her hand. "Let's go see the state of the shield."

Taking one last glance back, Pelivor caught a flash of color in the river water . . . then another and another. "Wait," he said. "Look."