Jan remained still. The apparition that she knew as Milo terrified her. Her suspicions had been correct all along. He was a sorcerer. No human being could move that fast.
“Jan!” he called again, impatient now. “Don’t just stand there, you idiot! Come here!”
“You’d better go to him,” murmured Lady Jane, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze.
Unwillingly, Jan stepped from behind the throne and went across to him. He eyed her quizzically. “For a moment there I thought you’d gone across to the other side. Here …” He handed her the strange sword, still covered in Dalwyn’s blood. “You hold it with both hands—yes, like that. I want you to protect my back while I work. Anyone comes near, you give a yell and take a swing at them.” Then he turned and began punching the keys on the console, ignoring her completely. She didn’t know what to do. She turned and looked sheepishly at the others. They stared back, some accusingly.
What would have happened next Jan had no idea, but then came sounds of fighting from above. There were shouts and screams and the clanging of metal hitting metal. The body of a Sky Warrior, bearing hideous wounds, suddenly came sliding on its back down the spiral staircase. It was followed by a rush of men. They were of small build, and wore bulky, brightly-coloured robes, armour and helmets. And they were wielding the same sort of swords that Jan was now holding.
Caspar and several others went to meet them and very quickly the scene became one of total confusion. Milo glanced over his shoulder at the melee. “I’m relying on you, little one,” he told Jan over the noise. “Protect my back—I need more time.”
Jan’s mind was in a whirl. She didn’t know what she was doing, or what she would do. Too much was happening at once—everything was out of control. …
She saw Caspar receive a wicked slash across his forearm. His sword dropped from his hand and then he was borne down under the weight of three of his small attackers. They obviously wanted to capture him alive. She could see their faces now. They had smooth, bland features with curiously-shaped eyes that seemed somehow stretched.
More and more of the invaders were pouring down the stairs into the control room and Jan saw that the defenders would soon be overwhelmed. As she waited for the first of the attackers to head in her direction she saw Gorman standing nearby, watching the fighting with a calm expression. Then he turned his attention to her. “What is he doing?” he asked, gesturing at Milo.
“I don’t know,” Jan said.
“I think you do,” he told her. “I knew all along you were up to something. Well, whatever you and that demon had planned, it’s too late now.” He turned and headed towards the helm controls. Jan realized what he planned to do.
“Milo! The Chief Engineer! He’s going to ram the Lord Pangloth into the other airship!”
“What?” He wasn’t listening to her. He was too engrossed with the console. She repeated her warning at the top of her voice. Without looking round, Milo said, “Then kill him.”
“Kill him? Me?”
But he was ignoring her again. Jan turned and saw that Gorman had reached the controls. Hesitantly, she started after him. She wondered what to do. She couldn’t kill him in cold blood; maybe she could knock him out with the flat edge of the blade. …
Before she could reach him, however, one of the invaders leapt forward. Just as Gorman began to manipulate the first of the levers the attacker slashed him across the back of his neck with his sword. Gorman slumped forward across the controls.
Jan turned back to Milo and saw three invaders converging on him. He seemed oblivious of their presence. “Milo!” she cried. “Behind you!”
Almost reluctantly, Milo turned from the console. The nearest of the three invaders was already rushing at him, sword raised. Milo blurred again. Then, somehow, the attacker was on the deck, writhing, and Milo had his sword. The sword flashed downwards. …
Then he was facing the other two. They rushed him together, letting out high-pitched cries, their swords held ready. Again Milo blurred. Both attackers fell. One died swiftly, his throat sliced open; the other sat contemplating uncomprehendingly the mass of steaming intestine that lay between his legs.
Other invaders were converging on Milo now but, with the evidence of his prowess impossible to ignore, they moved much more warily. Milo gestured to Jan. “Here, quickly!”
As she stepped up beside him he again handed her the sword. “Keep them off me,” he ordered. “I need just a little more time.”
“Are you crazy?” she said hoarsely. “I can’t do what you just did!”
“Just look as if you can. Bluff, girl, bluff.” He turned back to the console.
Jan faced the half-circle of converging invaders. Their expressions were fierce but their eyes were watchful, cautious. She held the sword the same way they were holding theirs, in both hands and with the blade raised at an angle in front of her right shoulder. She tried to look fierce as well, but she had no idea what to do if one of them should lunge at her. She was used to an entirely different style of fencing—the invaders’ method was all hack and slash and she doubted her chances of parrying even a single one of their blows.
All the other fighting in the control room had ceased. Most of the Engineers lay dead but the Aristos, with a few exceptions, had been taken alive. Jan glimpsed Lady Jane on her knees between two of the invaders. In front of her lay another invader, her dagger protruding from under his chin.
The half-circle was closing in on her. Then, with a nerve-shattering yell, one of the warriors lunged at her. She parried the downward blow of his sword more by instinct than skill, then jumped back just in time to avoid a vicious sideswipe that would have cut deep into her waist. “Milo …” she cried as the warrior lunged again.
“Eureka!” she heard Milo exclaim behind her just before the two blades met with a ringing clang. This time she knew it was pure luck that she managed to prevent her skull being sliced in two. And now the warrior’s blade was flashing at her from an angle she had no chance of blocking.
She was wrenched backwards with a jolt. At the same time the sword was snatched out of her hands. The next thing she knew Milo was in front of her. And then he wasn’t—he was suddenly to her right. The warrior who’d attacked her was falling backwards, arms flung wide, his metal breast-plate split open to reveal a gory chasm in his chest. The other warriors had no time to react before Milo was moving through them. They might as well have been ears of wheat rooted to the ground for all the hope they had of avoiding his whirling blade. Blood sprayed into the air and mingled with their death screams.
Then it was all over. Corpses—some butchered beyond all semblance to humanity—lay scattered about in large pools of blood. Milo was in focus again. He lowered his sword and looked around the control room. The remaining invaders and their Aristo captives regarded him in fearful silence. He turned to Jan. Wiping blood from his face he grinned at her. The insane look was back in his eyes. Distended veins pulsed at the sides of his neck and temples. “I think I’ve got their attention,” he told her. Turning his back on all the others he went to the console. Jan saw that the screen was full of lines of symbols and letters. A blip on the top right-hand corner of the screen was flashing urgently. “There it is,” said Milo triumphantly. “Just what I needed to know. Step One has been accomplished; now the going may get a little difficult before we succeed with Step Two. Watch your eyes.”