Now she stood in the middle of the hall, covering herself and glaring at the Draykin. Runt coiled in a nearby niche. Lina wasn't that upset; the reptile only seemed to care about her partial nudity out of artistic interest. But still, it was embarrassing.
"Yes," Rastalak said. "I think that this will—"
A deep boom sounded somewhere in the city above. The vault shook slightly with the vibration of it.
"What was that?" asked Lina.
Rastalak peered up at the roof of the vault. "I know not. Come."
It ran back to the opposite wall, where an opening led back onto the stair they'd descended. The Draykin replaced the lamp, taking her hand and pulling her along. Runt leapt up crying, soaring after to land on her shoulders. Lina grunted at the weight of her pet but did not have time to adjust; her companion pulled her relentlessly. They ascended, clambering up the smooth-cut, corkscrew stairs, their way lit by the halo of light around her head. The trip back up seemed far more quick than their descent had been. The strange architecture gave way to half-collapsed tunnels after what seemed only moments. Then they were once again in the ruin up above, shafts of sunlight falling through cracks in the ceiling.
Rastalak paused to listen. Over her panting Lina heard something as well. Gunshots, and enraged roars.
"Those are cries of battle and rage," said the Draykin. "My people struggle. Come."
He sprinted out the vine-covered entrance. Lina followed. She blinked back tears at the sudden brilliance of the city outside. Breathing was harder in the hot and humid air. The roars and screams were clearer here, echoing out from the Plaza of the Gods. Rastalak disappeared through the overgrowth. Lina cursed and ran after his lithe form.
Bushes and branches pushed at her, trying to yank the headdress from her. Lina held the heavy thing on with one hand, cursing and muttering. Runt chirped its encouragement. The overgrowth became a thick tangle. I can't make it through this. Too thick here. Then the bushes gave way.
She rammed into Rastalak, standing on the far edge of the lot. The little Draykin stared ahead. Lina followed his gaze and stopped as well.
To their left and right rose the towering spires of the Voorn. But directly ahead lay the Plaza of the Gods; they stood on its very edge. The space was huge, half a mile on a side. Little statues carved of stone dotted it, all similar to what Lina herself now wore. Past these squatted the Temple of the Voorn, the huge stair-step pyramid that dominated the center of Old Yrinium. The Dawnhawk hung above its peak, rope ladders dangling down. Beneath it was chaos. The mob of Draykin that had gathered to watch the skyship now howled and screamed and threw spears. They tried to ascend after a clutch of sky-pirates fighting a retreat up the stair to the yawning entrance to the Temple. Near the base lay the wracked and ruined bodies of the Draykin. Some crawled and cried out, their friends and loved ones tending to them.
Lina thought of the explosion they'd heard. A cannon? A bomb? One figure on the stair stood out. Clad in black, with a pistol in one hand and a blade in the other. Mordecai.
She turned to Rastalak. "We have to hurry! That's Mordecai. They're going to kill the captain!"
The Draykin lashed his tail back and forth. "It will not work! My kin are too angered, too agitated. What has happened here?"
Stuff it, then. Lina took a breath and pushed past Rastalak onto the flagstones of the Plaza. She forced herself not to run. To stay calm. Still, she felt terribly exposed. The Draykin mob ahead were enraged. And she didn't even have a shirt. She had Runt. But the scryn seemed...inadequate.
Regal. Regal and holy and like the Goddess come down to this Realm from the one Above. Lina pressed her palms together in prayer, forced her footsteps to a measured calm. She shook her arms and wrists slightly at every other step, so that the bracelets on her wrists jingled musically. As she passed the statues in the Plaza, they seemed to smile at her, more clear and elaborate in the brilliant halo of light emanating from her headdress.
Halfway across the Plaza, no one had taken notice of her. Three-quarters of the way, and the pirates were atop the landing before the temple entrance. They disappeared inside as the first of the Draykin below looked right at her.
Lina stood almost at the base of the stair. The air stank of gunpowder and blood. Before her lay the dead and dying. They screeched and hissed, clawed at their wounds to hold them shut. The lizard-people had tried to kill her twice now, but still, she felt for them. Those who tended their wounded kin looked up at Lina and cried out in alarm, then fell silent.
The shrieks from below reached the mob on the stair. Those at the back of the press glanced over their shoulders, only to stop. Like a wave, the Draykin paused in their pursuit of Mordecai to turn back and stare at Lina. Lina forced herself forward, held her breath as she walked out among the dying Draykin. The attention of the living and the stink of the bloodied dead made her queasy. Heart in her throat, she mounted the stair.