it was hopeless, but it was knocked out of his hand.
‘This serves you not at all, Liett,’ Malien managed to croak.
She looked up and Liett followed her gaze. Another rock fell, smashing into the edge of the peak and spraying splinters of stone everywhere.
‘Those air-dreadnoughts rise higher than you can fly, Liett. One such missile, perfectly aimed, can destroy the tower and the port-all that creates the gate. And then we’ll all drown. You, me and all of your kind. But we can save you.’
At the word drown, Liett’s crest, the only part of her skin that had colour, shimmered with emerald green. She shuddered, then let Malien go. ‘After all that’s been done to us, I can’t bear to put my trust in humankind.’
‘I’m not humankind, Liett, I’m Aachim. My people have never waged war on lyrinx, and my record is inscribed in the pages of the Histories for all to read. Besides, it’s not necessary to trust, merely to gamble. Lyrinx are not averse to a wager, I’m told.’
It seemed to hit the right chord. ‘Everything in life is a gamble,’ said Liett, letting her go. ‘All right – go up in your flier. Already the water laps around my people’s ankles – I can sense their cries from here.’
Three air-dreadnoughts now wheeled high above the tower. ‘They’re armed with javelards,’ said Nish.
‘So are we,’ said Malien. ‘Get to your post.’
As soon as he was in the shooter’s position, Malien took the thapter straight up, relying on the lyrinx to get out of her path. The air-dreadnoughts were large, Nish saw, but had only a small crew, sacrificing everything to carry the greatest weight of stones and still rise beyond range of the lyrinx, whose claws could destroy an airbag in seconds.
Further off, two thapters cruised in circles, guarding the air-dreadnoughts. They turned towards him. Five against one – odds even Malien would be hard pressed to even.
‘I’ll go directly behind that one,’ she shouted over the wind, pointing at the nearest air-dreadnought.
Nish raised a hand, not sure he understood her strategy, but she was looking forward, intent on her course. His eyes were already watering. He wished he’d thought to bring goggles.
The thapter shot sideways. Had someone fired on them? Nish couldn’t tell. Malien whipped around in a circle and behind the air-dreadnought hovering over the tower. It dropped three rocks, one after another, as he fired his javelard at the rotors. He only had to hit one to disable the craft and felt sure he would, having done it before. Unfortunately the air-dreadnought rose suddenly as the weight was released, and his spear passed harmlessly below its keel.
Nish cursed and wound his cranks furiously. It took so long to reload. His eyes followed the rocks towards the tower. They seemed to be heading directly for it. He held his breath. One puff of dust rose beside the tower, and two more down the slope of the peak. Hitting the target must be harder than it looked.
The air-dreadnought moved off, though it was as slow as a tortoise compared to the thapter in Malien’s nimble hands. Nish took careful aim at the port rotor and pulled the lever. At this distance he couldn’t miss, and didn’t. The rotor shattered to splinters, some of which flew into the starboard rotor, destroying it as well. The pilot pulled the floater-gas release rope and the air-dreadnought dropped sharply away to the south.
Malien shot away, carving a wavy trail across the sky to avoid one of the thapters. Judging by the reckless skill with which it was being flown, Chissmoul was at the controller.
Nish felt a surge of pride at the prowess of his young pupil, until he realised that she was now an enemy trying to bring him down. He mechanically loaded another spear as he searched the sky.
The other air-dreadnoughts were hovering some distance away, waiting to see what happened. The thapters approached, one on either side, and Kattiloe was the other pilot. Nish had chosen them both, supervised their training and helped them through dozens of crises. He liked Kattiloe and Chissmoul. Moreover, for the past hundred and fifty years, women of childbearing age had been protected at all costs, for the survival of humanity. In a battle with another thapter, there was little to do but attack the pilot, but Nish wasn’t sure he could fire his javelard at a woman. Shooting Chissmoul or Kattiloe was unthinkable. He wondered if they felt the same. Probably not –