The Far Wild

37 - A Swig Of Run First

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Suni

The Needlethroat again. Ancestors above, but I was getting tired of that ship. We needed a plan, and quick. Theo was already on it, though.

“The Welkin’s disabled, but we’re not defenseless,” she said as she moved past me, looking around our skyship. I was focused on the Needlethroat, though. For some reason it was holding position now just outside the outpost. Had it not spotted us? Or, wait. What was that?

Ropes were dangling below it and soldiers were descending. Fifteen or more, at least.

“Theo’s right,” Sergeant Kyriakos said, leaning heavily on the stairs, but pointing toward the top deck. “We can fight back.”

The realization hit me all at once: the Welkin still had its ballistae! We could mount a defense. Fire back at the Needlethroat or the ground troops. As long as we had ammunition. I crawled a bit more up the stairs and, sure enough, javelin barrels were nailed in place beside the ballistae.

“Javelins-charges, flint and steel,” I said, ticking off the items required to take down a skyship. “And ballistae. We could really do this.”

“Great. Now let’s just go negotiate a truce with the blasted terror birds and we’re all set,” Gabar said with no small amount of sarcasm.

The terror birds. Right.

The excitement that had bubbled into my chest drained back out. We were surrounded. Terror birds within the outpost and the Needlethroat without. Stuck between a rock and a hard place—or, more appropriately, explosive javelins and too-sharp talons.

“This ship’s not flying anytime soon,” Demetrias said, emerging from the engine room. “If we’re getting out of here, we need to make a run for it, and quick.”

“Run where? Into the Evergrass? We’ll be dead out there.” Gabar said, then unslung the shield from his shoulder. He nodded to the two bows we’d managed to salvage from the wreck of the Stormcrow. “We divide our forces. Two can take the bows and keep the birds at bay, the rest will man the ballistae. It’s not much of a chance, but it’s something.”

“Two bows aren’t going to do much but annoy a flock that size,” Elpida said.

“Terror birds inside the outpost, soldiers outside, and a skyship above. We can’t fight all of this at once,” Sergeant Kyriakos said. His wounds had started bleeding again, probably from all the exertion since we’d left the Evergrass, but he seemed sound of mind, sharp as ever. “The soldiers will have to go through the birds to get to us. Can we use that to our advantage? Pit them against each other?” He paused as if pondering, then shook his head. “Every moment we don’t do something is another we’re trapped in here. The birds will just as likely kill us before the soldiers even get inside.”

Gabar nodded along. “I hear you, sarge. It doesn’t look good, but at least this way we’d die fighting.” There was a certainty in his eyes as he spoke, as if he’d already come to terms with what was to happen and was determined to win some glory in the process.

“I for one am not ready to die,” Maritza said, raising her hand. “Anyone else have family they’d like to see again? We’re wasting time. We need to run. The Needlethroat will fall behind. If it’s going to chase us, it’ll have to stop to load its soldiers back up. That gives us a head start.”

Gabar shook his head. “They’re already on us. Almost to the front entrance now, I reckon.”

“All the more reason to go, now!”

Gabar snapped back something about courage in the face of death, then Maritza hurled a slew of colorful curses in his direction and the rest of the group devolved into near-shouted arguments. But I wasn’t listening.

I knew what I had to do.

My hands shook as I tapped Elpida on the shoulder, but they weren’t shaking from fear. Or, at least, not entirely.

“Rum,” I said simply as the guidemaster turned.

“What?” she began, then stopped. Her eyes narrowed. She’d figured out what I was thinking, probably. She was still for several seconds, debating internally, no doubt. But there wasn’t much to debate, it was simple.

“We need the birds outside the stakewall. I’ll lead them there. Give me a swig of rum first, though.”

Maybe she saw in my eyes that I’d already made up my mind. Maybe she agreed it was a good plan. Or maybe she figured I should at least have a drink before doing something incredibly stupid.

Finally, she sighed and shook her head.

“Rum sounds about right.” Her words were heavy with exhaustion. Nonetheless, she produced one of her flasks, took a drink, then handed it over.

My hand was still shaking as I took it, but it steadied as I downed a long swig of the gorgam rum. It left my throat burning and tasting of stomach acid and too-sweet nectar. Nonetheless, I sucked in a deep breath, then one more swig before handing the flask back.

I walked straight through the middle of the group. Their arguments fell silent as they watched me walk up the stairs and on to the top deck.

I paused for a moment to speak over my shoulder.

“Close the gate behind me and sort the ship out!” I said, then swung over the rail.