Page 25 of The Cradle of Ice
“It’s a bat,” Rhaif said. “Like Bashaliia.”
Nyx knew the thief was wrong.
It’s nothing like Bashaliia.
More shadows shot and glided through the mists, staying high, barely discernible through the steam’s pall.
“What’re they doing?” Rhaif asked, drawing closer to Shiya.
The answer came as the ship gave a hard shudder, settled for a breath, then jolted again. Draft-iron cables whined and twanged outside.
“They’re bombarding our gasbag!” Darant yelled. “Ripping into it.”
Nyx craned her neck, staring upward. She knew swyftships like the Sparrowhawk were built as fighting vessels, faster and more agile than the giant warships. To withstand assaults, their balloons were compartmentalized into sections. A swyftship’s gasbag could take several tears and still stay afloat. But there were limits to how much damage it could withstand.
“Hang tight!” Darant said as he shoved the maesterwheel forward.
The ship’s bow dropped, sending the craft into a steep dive. Nyx’s feet slid, but she grabbed hold of Shiya to stop herself. The song died in Nyx’s throat, but the bronze woman did her best to keep a shield up. Nyx cast her senses, brushing against the fiery hatred flowing through the steam. So far, that power stayed out there, rather than being cast down upon the ship.
Maybe their earlier assault burned through the bulk of their bridling energy, leaving them no choice but to attack physically.
Darant spun the wheel, sending their descent into a tighter spiral. The sudden maneuver tossed Nyx to the side. She lost her grip, but Rhaif caught her. He pulled her back to Shiya, while also holding fast to the bronze woman.
“Can you call them off?” Rhaif gasped, speaking both to Nyx and Shiya. “Convince them we mean no harm?”
Nyx stared upward.
Shiya answered Rhaif, “They will not listen.”
Nyx knew the woman was right. The colony out there might be distantly related to Bashaliia’s, but something had malformed them. She sensed nothing like the cold astuteness of the swampland clan. What swept through the skies was feral, savage, but plainly still cunning—as this ambush demonstrated.
Despite Darant’s efforts to shake off the haranguing flock, the ship continued to quake and rock. Nyx swore she could hear fabric rip as more of the balloon was torn by sharp claws.
We’re not going to last much longer.
Graylin voiced the same, closing upon Darant. “It’s hopeless! We must get to the sailrafts! Pray those smaller vessels can slip past that horde.”
Nyx expected Darant—ever proud of the Sparrowhawk’s ability and his own skill—to dissent. She was wrong.
“Do it!” Darant flashed his gaze right and left, to the secondary stations, to his daughters. “Glace and Brayl, get Nyx and the others into those rafts. Find somewhere to hide in this steamy clag.”
Glace stepped toward the man. “Father…”
He thrust an arm toward the door. “Go. I’m not giving up on the Hawk just yet.”
Darant turned away, dismissing his daughters. Ever obedient, the two women closed upon Nyx and the others. Their faces were hard masks of concern.
Nyx spoke as the pair reached them. “I left Jace in the hold. He should’ve readied the rafts by now.”
Behind them, Darant bellowed orders through the highhorn, divvying up assignments. He called back as they headed away, “Once free of the ship, dive fast! I’ll do my best to draw the bastards off.”
Nyx gasped as her skull suddenly burned. The small hairs danced across her skin. She glanced back as a huge shape flew into view. It struck the window with a resounding crash. The hardened glass splintered. The bat perched there, claws digging deep into the bow planks. Wings battered at the ship. Its ears lay flat to its skull, while fangs gnashed at the glass, smearing its surface with poison.
Those black-diamond eyes, though, never shifted. They glared straight at Nyx, tracking her as she fled with the others. For a breath, she sensed the horde-mind staring through at her. The cold malice cut into her skull—bringing with it a single thought, no words, only intent.
But it was clear enough.
We will break you.
