Sky Raiders (23 page)

“Can we just keep flying away from the Brink?” Cole asked. “It looks like it goes forever.”

“It might,” Jace said darkly. “We can’t. If we get far enough from the Brink, the sky won’t hold us anymore. The same thing happens if we go too high, too low, or inland. It doesn’t change all at once. We’ll feel the boat start to slip when we get too far out, beyond where any of the castles go, near where the cloudwalls end.”

“The cloudwalls end?” Cole exclaimed. “Can we go around them?”

“The skycraft won’t work that far out,” Twitch said. “There’s no way over, under, or around them.”

Cole frowned. “We’re boxed in.”

“Pretty much,” Jace agreed.

“Think we can dodge them until dark?” Cole wondered.

Jace stared at the oncoming skycraft. “We’re about to find out.”

18

A
s the sun sank into the Western Cloudwall, Jace tried to keep the
Fair-Weather Friend
away from the oncoming swarm of skycraft, which included the three large vessels, along with seven lifeboats. The plan to escape the legion by skycraft looked worse and worse as the persistent armada cut off any attempt to double back, herding them away from the Brink and toward the dead end of the Eastern Cloudwall.

From what Cole could see, the skycraft mostly contained uniformed legionnaires, with raiders at the controls and also manning some of the weapons on the larger vessels. The pursuing skycraft moved with ruthless coordination, climbing when they rose, dropping when they dived, crowding them toward a corner with no escape.

Cole and the others had checked the castles they could reach ahead of the other skycraft. One had been crafted out of black metal and looked like a certain death trap. Another had crumbled to ruins, offering scant cover. A third was made of crystal, again leaving nowhere to hide. With the
skycraft hounding them relentlessly, there was no time to plan. They could only flee and pray for darkness.

The
Fair-Weather Friend
swerved farther away from the Brink and began to shudder. It dropped jerkily, leaning hard to the right. Jace curved the little craft back toward the distant Brink. “If we go any farther out, we’ll fall.”

Cole looked back at where the sun had disappeared behind the Western Cloudwall. That side of the sky remained bright red and orange. It would still be close to an hour before the true darkness of night. He glanced at the other skycraft drawing nearer, leaving no room for evasion.

“They’ve got us,” Cole said. “We don’t have enough room to run until it gets dark. We have to try to break through them.”

Jace shook his head. “If we charge between them, they’ll just close in from all sides. We’ll get swarmed. They have grappling hooks and plenty of weapons. We don’t stand a chance of getting past them.”

“He’s right,” Twitch said, licking his lips. “Avoiding risk is my specialty. Charging through them won’t work.”

The Eastern Cloudwall loomed closer than ever. Impenetrably dark and unnaturally flat, the cloudbank stretched high and low, left and right. Cole squeezed his bow. None of the other skycraft were close enough to hit with an arrow yet, but the nearest weren’t out of range by much. “We’ve got maybe ten more minutes of running room.”

“Twitch,” Jace said. “What else can we try?”

“They want Mira,” Twitch said, tapping his fingers rapidly against his knee. “Maybe we can bluff. If we threaten to fly into the cloudwall, they might back off.”

“Try to stall them until it gets dark?” Mira asked.

“It’s worth a shot,” Jace said. “Unless anybody has another idea.”

Cole could see no other solution. If they tried to fly through their pursuers, they wouldn’t succeed. If they tried to fight, it would be even worse. The only option was to keep flying toward the cloudwall.

“What if they call our bluff?” Cole worried.

Jace frowned. “We’ll have no escape. If they ignore the bluff, and we don’t fly into the cloudwall, they’ll swoop in and take us in seconds.”

“It’s a pretty weak option if we’re not willing to follow through,” Twitch said.

“If we fly into the cloudwall, we’ll be killed,” Cole said. “At least if they capture us, we’ll have a chance to live.”

“I might live,” Mira said. “For a while. As a prisoner. They’ll want to question me—try to confirm what I know and who I’ve told. You guys are runaway slaves. Jace hurt some soldiers. Cole shot an officer. You all helped me. They know I could have shared my secret. They’ll execute you.”

“We don’t
know
that going into the cloudwall will kill us,” Twitch said slowly. “We just know that nobody has returned.”

“Now you’re talking crazy,” Jace said.

“Am I?” Twitch replied, tapping his knuckles together. “They won’t follow us in there. We could just go in a little, barely out of sight. My instincts feel better about that than letting them have us.”

“We bluff first, though,” Cole clarified.

“Of course,” Mira said. “But if they keep coming anyway, we take cover in the cloudwall. And if we can’t get back out, we try to survive it.”

Jace chuckled bitterly. “If you’re going to die, you might as well be doing something really, really stupid.”

Cole peered over the side of the lifeboat at the infinite drop. None of them had parachutes—there hadn’t been time to grab them. He gazed ahead at the imposing cloud-wall. What dangers was it hiding? Would it grind them to atoms? Did it house deadly monsters? Or was there some other explanation for why people never returned? Could it be a one-way portal to some other place?

As the cloudwall drew near, the other skycraft closed in. Cole kept his bow ready. The
Vulture
was probably within range now, as were two of the lifeboats. But many of the legionnaires had bows. If everyone started shooting, Cole doubted whether he and his friends would survive.

Mira stood up. “Back away from us!” she shouted. “Leave us alone or we’ll enter the cloudwall!”

A man on the
Vulture
raised his voice to answer. He had gray hair and a prominent nose. “We would rather take you alive, child, but we can’t help it if you destroy yourself. Do what you must.”

“Take us in,” Mira muttered. “Hurry.”

“You sure?” Jace whispered back. “Even if they kill the rest of us, you might still live.”

“I’m not so sure,” Mira said. “I’ll take my chances with the cloudwall. Don’t let them get too close. Go for it.”

Fingers tight on his bow, Cole glanced over at the
cloudwall. It was less than a minute away. The closer they got to the foggy barrier, the clearer it became that the wall wasn’t perfectly flat—some indistinct mistiness on the surface caught the glow of the sunset. Did that mean there might be a hazy space before the true cloudwall began, a place where they could hide?

“Don’t be fools!” the man from the
Vulture
cried. “You don’t want to suffer a horrible death in that darkness. Mira, if you come to me, I will spare the three slaves who aided you.”

“I don’t believe you,” Mira yelled back.

“I am Commander Rainier, highest-ranked officer of the legion,” the man replied loudly. “It is well within my power to make this deal. I swear by my office and by my good name, before all witnesses present, that your three companions will be returned to their master unharmed if you end this folly and turn yourself in.”

Arms hugging her chest, Mira glanced down at the others.

“Don’t give in for me,” Jace said, still guiding the lifeboat at full speed toward the cloudwall.

“Me either,” Cole said, unsure whether he fully meant it.

“Up to you,” Twitch said.

Mira scrunched her eyebrows and stared down. “I’m willing to chance it, but it’s not fair to force you three into this.”

“He’s pulling your strings,” Jace said. “Don’t let him use us against you. If you give up because of me, I swear I’ll jump. Plus, he could be lying. Who knows? Maybe we’ll survive the cloudwall. Forget about us. Do what you want to do.”

“No thanks!” Mira called.

“Stop them!” Commander Rainier roared. “Stop them at all costs!”

Grappling hooks came flying through the air, three from the
Vulture
, one from a lifeboat. One grapnel missed. Jace kicked another that would have landed in the stern, knocking it away. Two fell inside the lifeboat and pulled tight against the side, instantly slowing them and causing them to turn.

Dropping his bow and drawing his Jumping Sword, Cole severed one of the lines attached to the grapnel. Mira cut the other one.

All the vessels converged at top speed. More grappling hooks came flying. Cole batted one out of the air with his sword. Twitch nimbly caught another and tossed it aside. A few fell short. When one caught hold of the lifeboat again, Mira promptly slashed the line.

“Fools!” Commander Rainier shouted.

Glancing over his shoulder, Cole saw the murky surface of the cloudwall perhaps five seconds away. Was this how he would die? Would it hurt? Would he even know he had been killed? He had to hope that they could duck out of sight and lurk at the edge of the cloudbank until nightfall.

Cole looked back at the
Vulture
, where Commander Rainier had a hand extended toward them, face distorted with panic and anger. He realized that with his Jumping Sword, the
Vulture
was comfortably within range. What if he took his chances with the legionnaires? No, that wouldn’t end well. Having lost Mira, they would make an example of him.

Mira and Twitch pulled Cole down. Only then did he
realize that the others were no longer standing. They were bracing themselves. Sheathing his sword, he followed their example.

“Hold on!” Jace yelled. “Here we go!”

The prow of the
Fair-Weather Friend
nosed into the mist. Everything became hazy. Cole could hardly see Mira beside him. A moment later, damp darkness completely enveloped them. Looking back, Cole could no longer see outside the cloudwall. He couldn’t even see his own hands.

“Turn!” Twitch urged in the darkness. “Slow down! We mustn’t go in too far.”

“I’m trying,” Jace replied, voice strained. “It won’t respond.”

Their speed was increasing. Damp air whistled by them. The lifeboat lurched and shuddered.

“Hang on!” Mira said.

Gripping the side of the lifeboat, Cole stayed low and wedged himself into the most secure position he could manage. The wind became a moist gale, roaring in his ears. The lifeboat rattled, jerked, and jolted. He was on a nightmare bobsled ride without a track or a finish line.

What if he fell? Would he tumble through damp darkness until he starved? Would his fate be any different if he held on?

The lifeboat whooshed onward. It didn’t feel like they were turning much. Cole only saw black. His clothes and hair became soaked by the mist. He thought he heard Jace shouting, but the words were lost in the gale. The
Fair-Weather Friend
quaked and groaned.

And then the cloudy darkness lifted, though the lifeboat did not slow down.

Eyes squinted against the damp wind, Cole glimpsed a distant castle in the twilight, surrounded by wide grounds with walls and fences, fountains and statues, lawns and trees.

His eyes registered the encouraging sight in a flash before the nose of the lifeboat dipped down toward a swirling funnel that yawned larger than a football stadium. It was like beholding the inside of a tornado—the howling suction whirled down, down, down into infinite darkness. Wispy streams of vapor from the rear of the cloudwall flowed into the chaotic funnel, along with the
Fair-Weather Friend
.

Jace was on his feet, wrenching at the controls. “It won’t budge!” he yelled in frustration, face flushed with effort.

Rocketing faster than ever, the lifeboat reached the rim of the funnel and began circling down into the enormous mouth. Looking around frantically, Cole saw no escape. They were already too low to view the castle. With each revolution, the lifeboat sank deeper into the funnel. Despite the immense size of their circular path, they streaked fast enough to feel the mighty g-forces of the constant turn.

Mira yelled something, and Jace shouted something else, all words lost in the cacophony of swirling air and water. Other objects descended with them, hugging the blurred walls of the endless vortex—a damaged wagon, an embroidered carpet, a stuffed tiger, an irregular jumble of timbers, a copper birdbath. Some of the debris seemed to hold steady or even rise, but the lifeboat was definitely in a downward spiral.