Ken Liu - The Wall of Storms

Since many of the structural elements of the frame were made from bamboo reinforced with steel, it was actually possible to charge the entire frame of the airships. As soon as a garinafin seized one of the airships’ support hoops, the crew touched the silkmotic lances to the ship’s frame. The garinafin grabbing on to the hoop received a massive lightning jolt that killed it on the spot.

Tanvanaki issued yet more orders, and the garinafins now dove below the airships. With the gondola floors gone and the crew standing on platforms housing the giant crossbows, Tanvanaki gambled that the platforms would be free of the deadly force that was killing her garinafins and become the vulnerable underbellies of the airships.

But the airships tossed out long chains of iron that dangled far beneath them. Like the tentacles of some aerial jellyfish, whenever pairs of charged chains touched some hovering garinafin or rider, long, massive sparks flew between them, accompanied by a boom as loud as thunder. Just like the deadly drifting jellyfish caught and disabled their fishy prey, the airships now caught and killed the straggling garinafins with their deadly chains and crackling lances.

Two surviving garinafins finally lost their will to fight, and, ignoring the orders of their pilots, fled from the battle and tried to land on the city-ships. As the pékyu cursed and shouted in anger, Lyucu warriors scrambled out of the way on the open decks as the massive, winged beasts crashed down, killing many and damaging the ships in the process.

Princess Vadyu, Flash-of-the-Garinafin, looked at the sight around her in disbelief. The sea bobbed with the carcasses of garinafins who had died from lightning strikes and the smoking remains of those who had exploded from silkmotic arrows. Of the twenty garinafins who had accompanied the invasion force, only Korva was left in the air.

Four more Imperial airships remained, and now they descended toward the fleet of city-ships, intent on dealing death to the Lyucu crew with their silkmotic tentacles.

“The gods of Dara are with us today!” they shouted in unison.

The Lyucu warriors arrayed on the wide-open decks banged their clubs against each other, fearless, but it was clear that the tide of battle had turned against the Lyucu.

“What should we do?” Korva’s crew asked her. Tanvanaki had never heard their voices filled with such despair.

Tanvanaki considered the question. Korva still had fire breath, but it was impossible for one garinafin to take on four Imperial airships, especially not when they had the aid of such powerful weapons.

With a howl of rage, she kicked hard at Korva’s neck and turned her to the distant ramparts of Ginpen.

“We’ll burn this city to the ground and show them that the Lyucu are not afraid to die!”

Doru Solofi and Noda Mi stood alone in the pilothouse of Whirlpool Runner , the largest of the ragtag fleet of merchantmen that had been converted into auxiliary warships for the nonce.

Though the two failed rebels had pledged their lives to the cause of Dara, swearing that they wanted to redeem their stained names, the marshal had been suspicious and refused to put them in positions of power near the front, assigning them only low-level support tasks where they would be closely supervised.

Somewhat surprisingly, Doru and Noda proved themselves quite capable in their assigned roles. Noda drew upon his experience as the Hegemon’s quartermaster and made sure that supplies flowed smoothly to the marshal’s navy and army, and Doru blustered and intimidated the merchants into “volunteering” their ships to the Imperial war effort—Gin suspected that both also managed to skim some profit for themselves in the process, but such peccadilloes were unavoidable in a time of war.

Just before the battle, the two came to Admiral Than Carucono, asking to be put in charge of the support vessels.

“You need someone to command the civilians,” said Noda Mi. “To make sure they don’t panic.”

“We want to do what we can for Dara!” said Doru Solofi.

“Haven’t we proven ourselves?” said Noda Mi. “Emperor Ragin always said that loyalty is bred from trust.”

“All the others who once took up arms against the emperor have been pardoned and given new commissions; we’ll never be able to face them if we don’t get our own command,” said Doru Solofi.

“All we ask for is a chance,” said Noda Mi. “The same way Emperor Ragin once gave us a chance.”

Admiral Than Carucono pondered the question. He was perfectly aware that Doru and Noda were more interested in getting credit than in actually doing anything that risked their lives—but all the others with some command experience had demanded fighting commissions against the Lyucu, and he did need someone to corral the merchantmen and make sure they didn’t get in the way of the warships. He assented to their proposal.

The main fleet of real warships had sailed out of Ginpen harbor at the start of the battle, and the auxiliary support ships were supposed to follow behind to rescue survivors and support the main fleet in whatever way that was useful.

According to the marshal’s plan, if the air battle had not gone well, all vessels in the Dara fleet were supposed to engage in a suicidal, last-ditch effort against the Lyucu by ramming the city-ships. Doru Solofi had not liked that part of the plan at all, and he had tried to position as many other ships before Whirlpool Runner as possible, justifying the decision by arguing that in this rearguard position, he and Noda Mi could enforce discipline by catching any ships that tried to desert the scene of battle. The other merchant captains appeared to accept this explanation, proving once again to Doru Solofi that there was no shortage of gullible fools in this world.

Doru heaved a sigh of relief that events had played out otherwise. Now that the garinafins had been chased from the skies, the marshal’s air force would deal a devastating strike upon the Lyucu fleet, and the ships of Than Carucono’s navy would be able to mop up any final resistance. The auxiliary ships might be able to earn a share of glory just by sailing along and dispatching a few survivors (claiming that they were spies or resisting, of course). This was an easy victory, the sort he liked the most.

“Maybe we should try to sail ahead of the other ships?” Doru suggested. “If we can kill even a single Lyucu survivor, we’ll have some evidence to back up our exaggerations later and maybe get our fiefs enlarged.”

But Noda Mi’s expression was strangely tense. “Are you content to forever remain a minor noble at the Court of Dandelion? What happened to your dream of being restored to the position of a Tiro king?”

Shocked, Doru Solofi answered tentatively, “We don’t have many choices. The Court of Dandelion is strong. Our rebellion failed.”

“The Lyucu are here,” said Noda. “The enemy of my enemy is my friend.”

Doru sucked in a breath. “You are… truly bold. But they won’t be here for long. All the garinafins are dead except one, and the marshal will make short work of the fleet.”

“You’re shortsighted. By my count, there should still be many more garinafins on Rui. And you know more are on their way to Dara.”

“But the pékyu will never make it back to Rui alive today.”

“Not unless he gets some help. He doesn’t know how to fight the marshal’s airships, but we do.”

Doru Solofi felt his blood turn cold as he stared at his former coconspirator. “What are you suggesting?”

“Life is all about gambles.” Noda Mi’s face broke into a sharklike grin. “If the Court of Dandelion wins here today, we’ll be nothing more than minor foot soldiers in a war in which we did little. But if the Lyucu win because of our help, can you imagine the gratitude we’ll receive?”