Somewhither: A Tale of the Unwithering Realm (82 page)

Ossifrage waved his shepherd’s crook at the airship, but instead of capsizing, it righted itself. Kneeling on the upper surface of the envelope, not dead like he should have been, was the black-robed cloudwalker Glede, also with a shepherd’s crook in his hand. His other hand was trying to staunch the bleeding from his arrow wound. It should have been deadly, should have killed him instantly, but obviously some magic was at work. I was not getting the hang of this mad world as quick as I would have liked.

Even worse, Vorvolac, pale as a glow worm and a look of ecstatic starvation on his face, was standing next to him, unchained, wings unripped.

Ossifrage shouted some rolling Old Testament curse at Glede, who shouted back. It being Hebrew, I only caught every other word, but it was terrible enough to make me wish that Abby had not been able to hear it.

Foster shot an arrow at Vorvolac, and Glede raised his crook and made the arrow stand still in midair between us. Which was a lucky break, because Foster cried, “For Odin!” and the arrow started emitting mist. That, I think, was why we were not all struck down when the unblindfolded Vorvolac turned his hideous gaze upon us. We were invisible to him, and to the ship, for just a moment.

I tried to shield Penny and Abby behind me, holding up the crucifix.

The airship was turning, bringing her broadside weapons to bear. In the eyes of the giant bearded figurehead forming the prow of the ship, I could see the wrinkle-featured Enmeduranki looking like a gleeful sadist, his white hair in disarray where his tall hat had fallen, and the harsh-faced Anshargal looking calm and cold beside him, methodically giving commands.

Horns and trumpets blew. The random firing ceased. Winged men, Panotii or Cruorbibitors or both, began falling out of hatches and bays along the belly of the great ship, thick and bright as autumn leaves. A dozen grapnels shot out from the ship again, hooking what remained of the balcony. Gun crews readied the death-lanterns and ballistae and cannons.

The trumpets were not merely for the soldiers aboard the airship. All the way across the lake-sized cistern, in the light from the balconies of the townships built one atop the next like shelves, I could see now the mouths of huge weapons, looking as large as the gun Jules Verne once used to shoot Impey Barbicane to the moon, being cranked slowly into elevation. I saw catapults made of living metal, big enough to hurl a Learjet as a dart. Other weapons, protruding from blisters or pillboxes, were cranked into view, and pointed their muzzles our way. There was no spot anywhere in this vast interior space, none of the townships lining the walls, not in range of these massive guns and siege engines.

Torchlight flared into view above, as massive doors high above our position were hauled up, or shutters or hatches banged open with the noise of iron gongs. On the balconies directly overhead, now visible, were steaming spigots hauled forward by teams of sweating slaves, or spouts of red-hot machines leaning over the brink above us, like the beards of giants hanging over a wall, ready to dump boiling oil or molten iron on us, careless of the remaining invulnerable cynocephali grinning and running down the acres of wall metal between them and us.

I was petrified by the sight of it. The whole immensity of the Dark Tower was one big armed trap, the teeth of the snare, all pointed inward at us.

Only Abby kept her wits: “Master! Take us through the gate now!”

Ossifrage raised his crook. I think the cloudwalker in black was still blinded by Foster’s mist, because he did not stop us.

A whirlwind snatched us all up, all the girls, me, Penny, Abby and Foster, and hurled us toward the dark sphere. I put my elbow in front of my face to block the wind, and held my unsheathed katana behind me.

Above all the commotion, from the warship was coming a voice, tremendously amplified, of the Great King, Anshargal: “Open a hundred gates to Javan! No Undying can live an hour in the lands of the Host That Quaffs Lifeblood as Wine! I grant a city to who slays the foreverborn assassin girl, a treasure city to who ravishes the sea-witch! A kingdom wide and rich for the wind-walker's head! But an aeon for the Undying boy! I give you a world to save him from the blood-drinkers and bring him to me alive!”

I fell into the surface. The uproar of battle was cut off as abruptly as if the soundtrack broke.

“He must be found! Find him! For the mother of the Undying boy is none other than–”

MILITARY SCIENCE FICTION

Riding the Red Horse Vol. 1
ed. Tom Kratman and Vox Day

There Will Be War Vol. I
ed. Jerry Pournelle

There Will Be War Vol. II
ed. Jerry Pournelle

There Will Be War Vol. III
ed. Jerry Pournelle

There Will Be War Vol. IV
ed. Jerry Pournelle

SCIENCE FICTION

Awake in the Night
by John C. Wright

Awake in the Night Land
by John C. Wright

City Beyond Time: Tales of the Fall of Metachronopolis
by John C. Wright

Somewhither
by John C. Wright

Big Boys Don't Cry
by Tom Kratman

The Stars Came Back
by Rolf Nelson

Hyperspace Demons
by Jonathan Moeller

On a Starry Night
by Tedd Roberts

Do Buddhas Dream of Enlightened Sheep
by Josh M. Young

QUANTUM MORTIS A Man Disrupted
by Steve Rzasa and Vox Day

QUANTUM MORTIS Gravity Kills
by Steve Rzasa and Vox Day

QUANTUM MORTIS A Mind Programmed
by Jeff Sutton, Jean Sutton, and Vox Day

Victoria: A Novel of Fourth Generation War
by Thomas Hobbes

FANTASY

One Bright Star to Guide Them
by John C. Wright

The Book of Feasts & Seasons
by John C. Wright

A Magic Broken
by Vox Day

A Throne of Bones
by Vox Day

The Gladiator's Song
by Vox Day

The Wardog's Coin
by Vox Day

The Last Witchking
by Vox Day

Summa Elvetica: A Casuistry of the Elvish Controversy
by Vox Day

The Altar of Hate
by Vox Day

The War in Heaven
by Theodore Beale

The World in Shadow
by Theodore Beale

The Wrath of Angels
by Theodore Beale

NON-FICTION

Astronomy and Astrophysics
by Dr. Sarah Salviander

A History of Strategy: From Sun Tzu to William S. Lind
by Martin van Creveld

Equality: The Impossible Quest
by Martin van Creveld

On War: The Collected Columns of William S. Lind 2003-2009
by William S. Lind

Four Generations of Modern War
by William S. Lind

Transhuman and Subhuman: Essays on Science Fiction and Awful Truth
by John C. Wright

SJWs Always Lie: Taking Down the Thought Police
by Vox Day

CASTALIA CLASSICS

The Programmed Man
by Jean and Jeff Sutton

Apollo at Go
by Jeff Sutton

First on the Moon
by Jeff Sutton

AUDIOBOOKS

A Magic Broken
, narrated by Nick Afka Thomas

Four Generations of Modern War
, narrated by William S. Lind

TRANSLATIONS

Särjetty taika

QUANTUM MORTIS Un Hombre Disperso

QUANTUM MORTIS Gravedad Mata

Una Estrella Brillante para Guiarlos

QUANTUM MORTIS Um Homem Desintegrado

QUANTUM MORTIS Gravidade Mortal

Uma Magia Perdida

Mantra yang Rusak

La Moneta dal Mercenario

I Ragazzoni non Piangono

QUANTUM MORTIS Тежина Смрти

QUANTUM MORTIS Der programmierte Verstand

Grosse Jungs weinen nicht

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