Page 263 of The Cradle of Ice

Master Ketill turned to Reddak. “Sabotage?”

“It means to blow the Hammer,” another stated. “That’s what the lead armorist says. Can’t remove ’em or smash ’em. Or it’ll blow right away.”

Another nodded frantically. “Bay doors jammed up, too. To trap the Hammer with us. The brigade has ordered axes to the door.”

Mikaen cringed back, bumping into Thoryn.

Without hesitating, Reddak turned to his second. “Master Ketill, to the wheelhouse. Get all our forges firing. Send us straight up.”

“What are you—?”

Reddak pushed one of the crewmen ahead. “Take me down there.” He pointed to the other two. “Rally everyone with an ax and send them running.”

Thoryn pulled Mikaen back. “We must find a ship.”

Mikaen stared across the deck, picturing the daemon possessing one of his Silvergard and slaughtering the others around it. He sensed the truth and muttered it aloud.

“There’s no time.”

* * *

KANTHE HUNG IN his straps, chin to his chest. His left arm—both what was there and wasn’t—throbbed with lances of pain. Apparently, the poppy’s milk and the numbing balm had begun to wear off.

Their small ship had reached the northern coast of the bay and now crested low over the treetops of Tithyn Woods.

Frell stirred in his seat. “Something’s happening with the Hyperium.”

Kanthe turned to the scallop of a rear window.

Smoke masked most of the view across the water, but the Hyperium blazed inside the gloom, a bright sun in the pall—and that sun was rising.

Its scores of massive forges raged, creating a fiery gale beneath the royal flagship, driving it upward. The smoke parted enough to reveal the full majesty of its blazing glory: the triple billow of its three gasbags, the sweep of its hull, the glint of cannons and ballistas. The sculpted stallion at the prow kicked its draft-iron legs high as if trying to escape the waters, with its wings spread wide.

None of the other Hálendiian ships followed their flagship, remaining close to the bay. A flutter of movement drew Kanthe’s attention back to the Hyperium, to the ship’s keel.

“I think they got the bay doors open,” Frell said.

This was made clear when the massive flagship shat out a huge drum. The flames of the Hyperium’s forges reflected off the tank’s steel flanks, lighting its fall from that great height. It tumbled and rolled through the air.

Tykhan called from the front, noting it, too. “Someone over there’s more resourceful than I thought.”

The tank struck the bay, casting up a massive crown of water. Far above, the Hyperium continued to climb. Kanthe winced, expecting the Hammer to blow. But the bay’s watery crown crashed down, and the sea swelled back over the hole of the drum’s impact.

Frell frowned. “Were they able to disarm it after—”

The Bay of the Blessed lit up like a brilliant lantern, so bright it stung the eyes. Then the water welled high, as if a great sea beast were rising from the deep. The blast that followed was the thunder of all the gods’ wrath into one mighty boom. The brilliance flashed brighter as the bay emptied in all directions, hollowing out in the center, down to the rock and sand of the seabed. A massive tide surged outward into a huge wave that grew higher and higher—taller than the cliffs, taller than the trees here on top, taller than the height of their tiny ship.

Saekl saw what was coming and turned their vessel’s nose straight up, balancing on the flames of their forge. “Hold tight.”

She shot them upward as the force of the blast struck. The ship was hit hard, as if kicked by those same thunderous gods. It spun and toppled end over end.

Kanthe caught glimpses around him.

Below, the wave churned through the forest, ripping out roots, breaking trunks, pushing a gnashing froth of timber and rock ahead of it.

Their craft spun again to show the Stone Gods being smashed off their pedestals, toppling and drowning in the sea.

Another swing revealed a huge Hálendiian warship getting struck in the stern. It slammed into the twin ahead of it. The first crushed its bow, ripping free of its draft-iron cables and tearing its balloon. It fell into the wake of the wave, caught an edge of the tide, and was ripped out of the sky by the force of the water.