Kriz’s hand darted out to touch a small crystal in the centre of the panel, which immediately lit up with a familiar chime. After a short delay a curving white line appeared in the gloom outside the window, expanding into a gap that flooded the chamber with light. Clay blinked moisture from his eyes at the sudden glare, then found himself squinting at the mountains they had traversed to get here.
Kriz spun a wheel which caused the arrow on the pressure dial to move away from the red symbol. Clay felt the gondola shift as it lifted from the floor, the widening gap outside tilting to and fro before Kriz took hold of the largest lever. She hauled it into a central position, the craft levelling out in response. “Go sit down,” she ordered, in a tone that brooked no argument.
Clay nodded and started towards the seats then paused as he saw her expression change, the frown morphing into a surprised grimace. Clay followed her gaze, seeing the expanding light reveal the bulbous form of another aerostat thirty or so yards away.
“What is it?” he asked Kriz as she continued to stare at the craft.
“Only one other aerostat,” she said, turning back to the panel. “There were supposed to be two.”
She gestured impatiently at the seats where Sigoral and Loriabeth were already strapped in. Clay took the nearest seat and buckled on the straps, watching Kriz hesitate as her hand reached for two other levers, both placed in close proximity on the panel presumably so they could be pushed at the same time. She closed her eyes as her hand continued to hover, making Clay wonder at the true scale of the risk they were about to undertake. Whatever qualms she had were overcome when another boom sounded from outside, the loudest so far. Clay saw a large chunk of masonry tumble past the window, quickly followed by several more.
“I’m thinking it’s time to go!” he called to Kriz, who needed no further encouragement. As she pushed the two levers the aerostat lurched forward, Clay finding himself forced back into his seat by the acceleration. The gap beyond the window widened to fill his field of view, then they were out, the shadows vanished to leave them in the light of the three sun-crystals.
Clay’s surging relief evaporated when the aerostat promptly tilted forward into a steep dive. The mountain tops disappeared to be replaced by the sight of the rapidly approaching ground. “Kriz . . .” he said, voice suddenly reed thin. Sigoral and Loriabeth were more vocal, both issuing loud and, in Loriabeth’s case, profanity-laden cries as the aerostat plunged towards the earth.
Clay watched Kriz’s hands dance over the controls, pushing levers and spinning wheels with feverish energy. The aerostat’s descent slowed, much more gradually than Clay would have liked, but within a few seconds the mountain tops swung into view once more as the craft settled into a level flight.
“The envelope was only six-tenths full,” Kriz explained over her shoulder, pulling back on the central lever to gain altitude. “We’re at full capacity now.”
Clay unclamped his white-knuckled hands from the edge of his seat, breathing deep as he undid the straps. “So,” he said, moving to stand at her side. “What now?”
Kriz eased back the two levers that controlled their speed, the aerostat slowing to a lazy drift as the landscape revolved beneath them. Seeing it from this height, Clay was struck by the similarity to Kriz’s crystal model in the trance, the central hub of the mountains surrounded by the vast circle of the artificial sea and the outer ring of dense forest. Much as he longed to be gone from this place, the scale of ambition and achievement it represented was staggering. Kriz’s people had truly lived in an age of wonders.
The shaft swung into view and Kriz steadied the aerostat into a hover, keeping it in the centre of the window. “We wait,” she said, her gaze fixed on the great monolithic rectangle. It seemed to blur around the edges as the tremors continued to assail it, a growing plume of dust billowing from the opening through which they had made their escape.
“It’s stood for centuries,” Clay said. “And yet a few tremors can bring it down.”
“It’s not the tremors,” she said. “The outer shell and the shafts were constructed from a crystal-infused compound. The strongest building material ever created, but reliant on a continual energy source to maintain its integrity. The interruption in the flow of energy from the fault-line has fatally weakened the whole structure.”
“Clay!” Loriabeth called, voice flat with urgency. He turned to find her and Sigoral staring through the gondola’s port-side windows, both with weapons gripped. “Seer-dammit,” Clay cursed softly, moving to Loriabeth’s side and seeing the dark, rapidly approaching cloud.
“Gotta be a hundred or more,” Loriabeth said, hefting her repeating rifle.
“Does this thing have weapons?” Sigoral demanded of Kriz, who shook her head.
“We never thought we’d need them.”
“What tremendous foresight your people had, madam,” the Corvantine observed with a bitter sigh.
Kriz ignored the jibe and pushed the accelerating levers all the way forward, the shaft looming in the window as the aerostat lurched into motion. Kriz angled the large central lever so that the craft swung to the right, steering them around the shaft in a wide circle.
“They’re still gaining,” Loriabeth reported from the port-side window.
“We need to open the hatches,” Clay told Kriz. “Can’t shoot ’em otherwise,” he added when she hesitated. Kriz pulled another lever on the panel and the gondola’s hatches all opened at once. There were four in all, two at the front and two at the rear.
“Lieutenant, take the starboard side,” Clay told Sigoral, having to shout above the sudden torrent of invading air. “Lori, cover the rear.” He hefted his own carbine, taking up position at the forward port-side hatch.
He took a firm grip of the edge of the hatchway before leaning out to cast his gaze towards the rear of the aerostat. The pursuing drakes were spread out in a ragged, undulating line. Clay raised his carbine, using the miniature telescope on top to survey the drakes. They were mostly Reds but here and there he caught sight of a White, flying higher and faster than the others. He put the range at perhaps three hundred yards, which his cousin evidently took as a challenge.
From the rear hatch came the rapid thump of Loriabeth’s repeating rifle followed by the sight of a Red spiralling down from the pack, one of its wings flailing as it vainly tried to catch the air with the other. Her success, however, didn’t seem to deter the others and Clay soon gauged the intervening distance to have shrunk to under two hundred yards.