Выбрать главу

"Sir!" came the shrill cry of a gnome somewhere aft. "Potentially hostile spelljamming vessel apparently crewed by unidentified humanoids is now trailing at fifteen hundred yards, with an estimated error of one hun-"

"Fire!" Gomja bawled, drowning out the gnome.

"Immediately activate the mechanism according to the preset trajectory!" Gaye heard a gnome shout rapidly. The command was interrupted after the first word by the heavy thump of a ballista and the crack of two dozen crossbow bolts being released. Then came the creaking sounds of the ballista mechanism being cranked back for a second shot. A small cloud of bolts could be seen for a second, flashing toward the scorpion. The gnomes immediately reloaded their crossbows, snatching bolts from the huge pile of ammunition carefully stacked along the deck.

"Roll her over and climb!" Gomja shouted, leaning back. The backdrop around the Perilous Halibut began to rotate, starting to send the lone trailing ship below the deck's horizon. Quickly, though, the spelljammer changed course and climbed again in the opposite direction that it had originally taken, like a fish unable to decide which way was up. By the time the gnomes had reloaded their crossbows, the scorpion was again in view-now upside down, but with its main deck-and the crew on it-clearly visible.

"Prepare to fire! Hold it, hold it-Fire!" Gomja shouted. Gaye heard the crossbows and ballista snap in unison. It was incredible to think that, only a month ago, those same gnomes could barely be made to breathe at the same time, much less function as a military unit. Gomja's constant drilling had taken care of that, even if the constant stream of shouted orders kept everyone else awake some nights.

Gaye had turned back to look at the opening portal when she heard someone climb the ladder from the deck below. She saw with relief that it was Teldin Moore, a short sword belted on under his dull maroon cloak. Everyone had given up trying to explain the cloak's seemingly random color changes.

"What's the-oh," Teldin said, turning around to see the gnomes still firing at the scorpion ship. He looked back at Gaye, who was wearing a remarkably low-cut red dress with a skirt made of cloth strips. Teldin knew better than to ask where she'd gotten it; she produced clothing out of thin air, but never admitted how she did it. "Where's your shield?" he asked in astonishment. "Didn't you pick up a shield?"

"It was too much of a bother to carry around," Gaye replied with a smile. "If my thread's going to get cut, it'll get cut, and a shield isn't going to help. Besides, I get a much better view without it. Isn't it grand?" She punctuated her last comment by waving a hand at the oncoming portal, visible but dropping below the bow as the ship maneuvered.

Lips parted, Teldin stared at the yellow whirlpool and its blue eye. The sight literally took his breath away. "We're going to go through it in only a few more minutes," he finally mumbled. "I was just talking with Sylvie."

"How's she looking? She's been on the helm for-"

"She's exhausted," Teldin said, tearing his gaze away from the yellow maelstrom. "We can't replace her as long as the ores are coming up on us like this. I'm here to bring you back inside. That scorpion's crew might board us soon, and you've got to get out of here before it does. Now, move."

Gaye got a surprised and indignant look on her elfin face. "Teldin Moore, what right do you have to-"

"Incoming! Shields up!" Gomja roared from the stern. Both Gaye and Teldin looked rearward. Gnomes snatched up the wooden shields beside them. Recognizing the danger, Teldin instantly threw himself over Gaye, knocking her down with a thud and flattening her against the black, metal-plated deck. The kender gasped, the wind knocked from her lungs.

There came a brief clattering sound across the length of the ship, not unlike hail on a metal roof. A gnome gave a brief cry of fear. Teldin felt something punch him hard against his cloak under his left shoulder blade, and he grunted and clenched his teeth against the stab.

"Teldin," came Gaye's muffled voice as she struggled beneath him, "I like you, too, but I can't breathe. Let me up." Teldin risked a look around, wincing with pain. All the gnomes seemed to be okay, aiming their shields in the direction of the scorpion ship. Gomja held an enormous tower shield made from the ship's galley door. "Lower shields!" he shouted, suddenly setting his shield aside and hefting his huge crossbow. "Reload and prepare to fire! Ballista with us!" "Teldin!" Gaye wheezed, trying to shove him off her chest. "Darn you!"

"Get below, now!" Teldin ordered the kender, getting up. His left shoulder blade hurt abominably; an arrow clattered to the deck as he moved. No doubt the magical cloak had kept it from punching through his ribs. He kept his cloak positioned above Gaye as she rolled over on her side, still trying to get her breath. With a dirty look up at Teldin, Gaye crept to the deck hatchway, stopping only as she was ready to descend.

"I want to stay up and watch," she said petulantly.

"Not a chance," Teldin said, and he pushed her head down into the ship. He flipped the hatch shut, jammed the locking bar in place, then got to his feet. Only a gnome ship would have locks on both sides of its hatchways, he noted.

"Roll her over and climb!" Gomja called as the gnomes raised their crossbows again. "Prepare to fire!"

Teldin could sec that the scorpion ship was much closer now than before, only minutes from catching up. The orcs must have put their best spell-caster on the helm, he thought grimly. The last month had been so peaceful that he'd thought they had escaped. For the hundredth time, Teldin considered asking the gnomes about their "birthday party" weapon, but discarded the notion. Any gnome-made secret weapon would be deadlier to its users than to its target. Teldin never even brought up the topic, for fear of getting Dyffed interested in testing the device, wherever it was.

"Fire!" Crossbow and ballista bolts leaped out at the scorpion ship.' Teldin cursed himself when he realized he didn't have a missile weapon. He had come up to the deck after he'd heard Gaye was here in the thick of the trouble, and now that she was safe he didn't feel he could abandon Gomja and the gnomes. He hurried aft to see if a spare crossbow was available for him.

The gnomes steadily continued their loading and firing and paid no attention to Teldin as he ran up. Gomja reloaded his bow and shouted for the ship to roll over and climb again, always keeping the scorpion in view. The giff saw Teldin approach from the corner of one eye and looked around. "You shouldn't be here, sir!" Gomja said in astonishment. "You don't have a shield, and there's no place to take cover!"

Teldin saw several spare light crossbows on the deck. He grabbed one and cranked it back. "My cloak's good enough," he said, quickly setting the bowstring and reaching for a bolt, "and I'm getting claustrophobia anyway."

Gomja stared at him, then nodded and raised his crossbow once more at the scorpion. "As you wish, sir," he said, sighting in with a proud grin. "My sire always said, 'A brave heart seeks the heart of the action.' Prepare to fire!"

Teldin raised his crossbow, stepping back to get out of the giffs way. Gomja would have preferred to use the musket strapped to the inside of his shield, or the pistols stuck in his belt, but the phlogiston's flammable nature precluded use of any firearms.

"Fire!" Gomja shouted. Teldin concentrated, but his cloak did nothing to improve his aim or sharpen his senses. He hastily squeezed off a shot.

As he nastily reloaded, Teldin couldn't help thinking that it was nothing short of a miracle that the supply rooms aboard the ship had turned out to be well stocked with personal weapons and ammunition, even the deck ballista, just as the galley had been overstocked with food-this despite the fact that none of the thirty-one gnomes aboard the ship remembered having stocked anything before the ship took off. All had been busy examining the ship's hull for scratches on its paint job and talking about the "birthday party" Dyffed was fond of referring to. They were confounded when Gomja confronted them with the spare materials, which he had uncovered while making a detailed inspection of the ship just before they had entered the phlogiston.