Chapter Twenty-Four
Overhead Ulrik could see the running lights of airships. They seemed as far away as stars, mocking him. They needed to get aboard one of those ships but he could not think of any way of doing so. Not looking as he did now. The storm that had afflicted the city earlier had died away, leaving an awful stillness and a night that crackled with suppressed tension. The glow from the clouds was fading as if Molok’s citadel had consumed all of their energy. To Ulrik’s demonic senses it was obvious that something terrible was going to happen. Molok’s habitation glowed in his sight. It felt like all that assembled power was soon going to be unleashed. He did not want to be here when that happened.
“Now, let us see what we can do about you, Ulrik,” Valerius said. He closed his eyes and muttered words in an ancient tongue. They emerged from his mouth as if they were carved from light and seemed to float in the air around his head.
Nightmarish pain flooded through Ulrik’s body. His blood was on fire and his bones were cracking. He closed his eyes and clutched at his armoured head with his claws. The chitin beneath his grasp shifted and changed. There was an odd smell in the air and his feet felt wet and soft. The air tasted different, flatter and with less scents.
When he opened his eyes again Valerius and Rhea seemed larger and the world was a lot dimmer. He felt as if he had suddenly gone blind, as if he had lost nine parts out of ten of his ability to perceive things. He looked at his hands and they were different, unfamiliar. They were not the claws he had once possessed but neither were they the hands that he once remembered. They seemed more leathery and the nails were thicker, like talons.
“What did you do?” Ulrik asked.
His tongue felt thick and he had to force the words out but at least they came, at least he could talk again, at least he was no longer imprisoned within the armoured flesh of a demon.
“I invoked a banishing spell, imprisoning the demon again. I was not entirely sure it would work but it seemed preferable to having you terrorising the city in the shape you were in.”
Rhea nodded but she looked nauseous, as if she did not like what she saw when she looked at Ulrik at all.
Ulrik felt weak. His legs were rubbery and threatened to give way beneath him. He had not felt this bad since he’d had breakbone fever as a child. The transformation had taken a lot out of him. He was very hungry and very thirsty and also, he realised, naked and unarmed in the middle of the most dangerous city in the world.
“But you can bring it back anytime you want, can’t you?” He needed to have that question answered.
“I’m afraid I can and I’m afraid I might have to.”
“I would appreciate it if you didn’t.”
“We may not have any choice but I will do my best. The more time you spend in that form, the more likely it is that the demon will take control of you and you will be unable to return to humanity or to keep your sanity.”
“I really do not like what you have done to me.”
“I wouldn’t like it myself. If it’s any consolation, what I did to you probably saved all our lives.”
“My life would not have been in any danger if I had not been compelled to come and rescue you.”
“How swiftly they forget. You might well have been dead fighting in the arena if I had not taken you from there.”
“At least I would have died human.”
“There are some people who would debate that. But this is getting us nowhere. We need to get out of here now. What we need is a personal flyer,” said Valerius.
“There must be some near the docks,” said Rhea “All we need to do is find one and get it started.”
“Then we shall head to Typhon,” said Valerius.
“What about supplies? What about water?” Rhea asked.
“There is water here. The important thing is that we get out of here now. We need to warn my people about the attack.”
Ulrik wondered if Valerius had any idea what he was getting himself into. A long trip over the wastelands in a small flyer would be a nightmare. Of course, a small flyer was the only thing that they could manage between them.
“Do you think we can steal such a ship?”
“We’re just going to have to be able to do it. We don’t have any other choice. It’s death to remain here. And Rhea has some expertise in these matters.”
“Then what do you suggest we do, Rhea? None of us are armed or in any shape to fight and we are all somewhat conspicuous, me in particular due to the fact that I am naked.”
“One thing at a time. First we need to get some clothes and some weapons. Then we’ll think about what to do next.”
“Ever the practical one, eh?”
“We’ve got this far,” said Valerius. “Let’s not give up now. We’ve already done the difficult bit breaking out of Molok’s dungeons.”
“None of us is exactly equipped to be performing acts of highway robbery,” said Ulrik.
“If only you were so good at suggesting ways to overcoming obstacles as you were to finding them, you would be of considerably more help,” said Valerius.
“I was just saying that it is very difficult for two unarmed men and a sick cat-girl to rob armed men.”
“Ah, your superior experience as a pirate starts to show through. I would never have thought of that.”
Another tremor rocked the ground. Lights flickered in the sky overhead. It seemed like a good time to be moving on.
Without coming to any agreement, they began to move off the quay and into the streets. All around them massive warehouses loomed.
“We could always beg for money,” Ulrik said. “Men just off an airship are usually quite generous.”
“I think I preferred you as a demon. Your conversation was better,” said Valerius.
Two large, drunken men staggered towards them. Valerius walked up to the nearest. The man drew his painwand. Behind him, his partner produced a blade.
“Rough part of the city,” said the first drunk. Ulrik was not sure whether it was a threat or a conversational gambit.
“Give me that,” said Valerius. The subtle hypnotics were back in his voice. It seemed he had not entirely lost his gifts under torture. The man reached out with his weapon held butt first and was about to hand it over when the second drunk said, “What are you doing?”
Ulrik leaped forward and snatching the weapon out of the man’s hand, activating it and jabbing it into his ribs. The man crumpled into a heap and Ulrik threw the painwand into the face of his partner. The man ducked but as he did so, Ulrik sprang on him, and smashed him in the face with his fist. The man went down as if poleaxed.
Quickly Ulrik stripped him of his clothing and put it on himself, strapping on the man’s sword belt and sheathing the painwand beside his blade.
“Now then that wasn’t so difficult, was it?” said Valerius. Ulrik felt like punching him. “We’d better find a ship now.”
Ulrik kept searching through the men’s belongings until he found some money and he stowed that away on his belt as well. After he completed this, he dragged the men into the shadows of the doorway.
“Where’s the nearest place we’re likely to be able to find a small flyer?” Valerius asked.
“The rooftop of any residential building, but the trick will be to get there, because they are usually guarded and quite difficult to get into.”
“I doubt that will prove an insuperable obstacle to folk of our talents,” said Valerius. “Look at what we’ve achieved together so far.”
The wizard could not keep the irony from dripping into his voice. Ulrik gave him a sour smile and said, “After that we’ve only got to negotiate a thousand leagues of trackless desert, how difficult can that be?”
“My thoughts precisely,” the wizard said. Ulrik wondered if Valerius had gone mad back in the dungeons after all.
They strode on up the street. Ulrik felt a little better now that he was armed and dressed. He did not feel quite so vulnerable which he told himself was
stupid considering that awful sorcery would soon be unleashed over the city. “How did you come up with that cunning plan of asking the man to hand over his weapon?”
“I thought my magic might still work and it probably would have if his companion had not interrupted my spell.”
“I suppose you did provide me with a distraction that was useful. Maybe you’ll be able to do that again.”
“And maybe if you handle yourself as well, I won’t have to transform you into a demon.” Ulrik shut his mouth with a snap. Valerius did not need magic to make the threat implicit in his voice. He realised that still he was just a resource to the wizard, one that it was merely convenient to have in his current shape, but which might soon be more useful in a more monstrous form.
“Up there on that roof,” said Rhea. “There’s a tethered ship.”
“Good,” said Valerius. “Now all we need is someone to go and get it. I wonder who that should be?”
Ulrik felt the stonework begin to crumble under his fingers and cursed. He would not be able to survive a fall from this height without a broken back or limbs. There had definitely been some advantages to his demonic form. He pushed that thought aside, strongly suspecting that it had come from the thing that still lurked in the deepest, darkest corners of his mind. He knew it was affecting him. He felt smaller, weaker, more exposed now than he had done when he was a monster. Then he would have been able to scramble up the side of this building in heartbeats. Now he had to spend long minutes struggling just to make the smallest of progress.
He adjusted his grip and pulled himself a bit further. His feet found toeholds in the unmortared blocks of the wall. His hands grew sure again. Eventually he managed to pull himself over the parapet on the top of the roof and lay flopping on the stonework. The airship was there. Now all he had to do was start her up. Keeping as much to the shadows as he could, he made his way forward to the side of the ship. It was what he had expected, a small four person flyer, used to carry crew to and from their ships and around the city.
He inspected the controls. They were easy enough to understand and he did not doubt that he would be able to handle the ship, if - no, when - he got it airborne. He took the pommel of his sword and began to prise open the links of the mooring chain. The seconds dragged as he worked at the task, and he found himself wishing for the strength of the demon. Then he would simply have torn the ship from its moorings. The wiser part of him asked how he would fly it then.
The mooring chains came free. He inserted the edge of his blade under the cowling of the ship and twisted, opening it and allowing himself access to the controls. Now he had to hope that the owner had left the elemental stone in place. More cautious ones would take it with them, but many people forgot, trusting to the chains and the guards to keep their vehicles safe.
He reached forward, mouth dry and touched the control levers. Almost at once he sensed the presence of an elemental. It appeared he was in luck. He ordered it to feed power to the liftkeel and slowly the little craft floated upward. Once it had achieved buoyancy he pushed it forward towards the edge of the roof and sprang aboard. He cut the power a little and let the ship drift downwards.
Valerius and Rhea came running forward and sprang aboard. Ulrik brought the ships engines to life and took it gradually into the air. Once they were well skyward, he brought the engines up to full power and sent them roaring through the sky over the city. The streets were a glowing rune below them, whose meaning he could not puzzle out. The stars spelled out strange messages overhead. Valerius laughed loud and long and shook his fist at the sky.
Ulrik understood his feeling of triumph. They were one step closer to making their escape. On a vessel like this, assuming they were not forced down by storm or demonic swarm, they could reach Typhon within a few days.
“Check and see if there is anything we can store water in,” he told Valerius. “We are going to need some in case anything goes wrong in the Wastes.”
Valerius rummaged around behind him, and eventually produced a bucket and some empty wine bottles. “We’ll fill them in the caldera and drink as much as we can. These will have to do.”
Rhea gasped. Valerius looked at the sky over Molok’s citadel. Following his gaze Ulrik turned to see what dreadful thing was happening.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Thunder rumbled somewhere in the distance. Lightning flashed. The earth shook beneath their feet. Cracks appeared in the walls of a nearby building. From all around came screams and shouts of terror.
A glow surrounded Molok's citadel. The air seethed with unleashed magical energy. Overhead, the clouds swirled once more agitated by potent magic.
"What is going on?" Rhea asked. "What is happening?"
"Our friend Molok has completed his spell,” said Valerius.
The ground shook as if the ancient volcano beneath the caldera had sprung to life once again. The buildings surrounding them shivered. Tiles slid from the roofs. Structures began to collapse.
“I think something has gone wrong with the spell,” said Ulrik. The citadel was at the epicentre of the quake, if that’s what it was. Had the wizard overreached himself? Had his magic gone disastrously wrong?
“I think things are happening exactly as he planned,” Valerius said.
“What do you mean?” Ulrik asked.
“Watch and see. It will happen soon. You’re about to witness the greatest feat of magic of this age of the world. In a way, I am glad that we are here to see this.” The awe in his voice gave Ulrik pause for thought. And there was something else there too, a strange note that it took him some time to recognise as fear.
What was happening that could frighten a man as practised in the dark arts as Valerius, he wondered. In a few heartbeats, he got his answer.
A swirling aura of multi-coloured lights surrounded Molok’s citadel. It glowed brighter than the moons in the sky, its infernal radiance lighting the entire city.
“By the gods,” Rhea muttered. “Look at that!”
The aura surrounding the citadel took the ectoplasmic shape of a towering demonic figure. It reached out as if it intended to level the nearest tower but then lines of fire reined it in and it was sucked back into the structure from which it had emerged. The citadel trembled as if the shock of the earthquake was finally having some effect. Ulrik expected to see the fortress collapse at any moment.
Instead it shook itself free from the earth and began to lift up into the sky. It rose, a vast floating island, an indestructible warship, the largest man-made structure ever to take to the skies of Urath. Glowing stones tumbled from the bottom of the citadel to impact on the ground below, a deadly meteor swarm spraying the surrounding earth. Ulrik expected the citadel to fall apart under the strain of moving its enormous bulk. He watched in wonder, waiting for it to tumble to the earth, gripped by gravity and torn from the sky for its presumption. Nothing of the sort happened. The enormous floating island hovered in the sky, glowing like a new moon.
All around them, people crowded onto roofs, staring in wonder at the apparition, ignoring the danger of the building collapsing beneath them. Like Ulrik, they looked upon a dark wonder, a miracle wrought by demons, a thing of awe and terror.
“I would not have believed such a thing was possible that I had not seen it with my own eyes,” said Valerius. “If that citadel is equipped for war then it is worth a fleet on its own.”
All around it, ships gathered, swarming in shoals. Enormous squadrons formed up around it and Ulrik realised that they were looking upon an expected event, part of a greater overall plan. The huge formation gathered itself and then swept off towards the horizon. Ulrik knew without having to check the stars that it was heading in the direction of Typhon.
“Come on,” said Valerius. “We’d best be going.”
Ulrik pointed the prow of the airship at the distant horizon and opened the throttle to the maximum. The little flyer leapt forward. The wind surged past its needle-nosed prow. For the first time in many days, he f
elt something like pure joy. There was nothing to be compared to being in charge of an airship at top speed. Hydra vanished into the night behind them. The moons raced through the sky overhead.
“I think we might make it in time,” said Valerius.
Rhea wrinkled her nose and looked at the little airboat. Ulrik knew what she meant. It was old and slow and battered. The engines looked all but done in and he could tell that the elemental driving them was ageing and tired.
“The Hydran fleet has a head start and this is not the fastest of ships. Pray that nothing goes wrong with the engines before we reach Typhon,” Ulrik said.
“I will indeed. And if we make it in time I will see that you are amply rewarded.”
Ulrik studied the hands resting on the controls. They were at once familiar and strange. They had the outline of his own hands but the skin was thick and each finger ended in a small talon-like nail. A dark web was visibly embedded in his flesh. He reached up and touched his face. He could feel ridges there as well, like the scar-tattoos of Uruk tribesmen. He knew that he must look hideous. He had never been a handsome man but at least he had looked human.
“The only reward I require is that you lift this curse from me.”
Valerius’s silence was eloquent testimony to how likely he was to be able to grant that boon. Another thought sidled into Ulrik’s mind. He had no reason to love the Typhonians and every reason to want to see their city plundered. He could throw Valerius over the side and doom the city to being attacked without warning. His own life would be forfeit but he was starting to suspect that it would be whatever happened. At least this way, he could take revenge on Valerius and his ilk before he went.
Or he could simply not run this flyer as fast it could go, or navigate as well as he could. That would be enough to ensure that they arrived too late.
His fists tightened on the control rods. If he did that he would most likely lose his last chance at humanity. And that was what the demon within him wanted. And there was more at stake than that. In his heart of hearts, Ulrik did not really care about what happened to the people of Typhon.