The work continued as the sun set below the horizon. They didn't even have twilight to work with; the scattered rainclouds he feared dropped onto them faster than the light could fade. Fortunately, by then most of the treasure had been hoisted, or was on its way up. Konrad and the other crew aboard the Dawnhawk had quieted. At first they had called excited queries at those in the hold below, whooping in excitement as they brought the first loads aboard. But even the richest treasure lost its luster when compared to the monotony of moving it.
Mordecai jumped down from the breach in the Albatross to the pool. He walked around the laboring pirates and past the current pile being assembled in a cargo net for transport, the last one for the night. He made his way to the beach and then up the sand past the stern of the wrecked ship. Beyond, the jungle loomed, dark and impenetrable. The strange lizards had quieted and the gibbons fallen silent. Reaver Jane's picket stood, lackadaisical and unhappy at their task.
They need a thrashing, he thought. Bored guards were useless guards. But more importantly, they needed light. The thick jungle, and the heavy clouds just above them were drowning them in darkness. Much longer and they wouldn't be able to see their hands before their faces, and that would be the perfect time for an ambush.
Torches. There should be plenty aboard. Or at least lanterns. The Mechanist should be able to whip up—
Something was wrong. His instincts sang out. He had noticed something, out of the corner of his eye mayhap. Something that didn't belong...
Mordecai turned back to look down at the beach and the airship there. The crew worked busily below it, tying up the latest cargo net of treasure for their mates above to hoist to safety. The Dawnhawk floated at anchor three dozen feet above, lower in the air than when they'd started. Thick grey rainclouds crowned the gas-bag frame of their airship. But seen from out here, they were incomplete, thin things. More of a mist than real clouds. Through them, he glimpsed something else entirely.
Another airship.
The Copper Queen floated just above the Dawnhawk, cloaked by the unnatural clouds just beneath it. It looked terrible, black hull scorched and smoking in places, the gas-bag frame sagging on one side. Ropes and chains hung loose, frayed or broken from their moorings. It looked like it had fought a war and lost.
That wasn't the worst, however. Figures were rappelling quietly down on dropped ropes, presumably landing atop the hidden gasbag of the Dawnhawk. None of his lookouts atop the ship called out.
"Alarm!" he yelled at the top of his lungs. "Boarders atop the Dawnhawk! Get back aboard, get back aboard!"
He drew his sword and dashed back down the beach. The crew all about him stared stupidly. Natasha stuck her head out from the hold of the Albatross. They all looked around wildly at the sound of gunshots ringing out from the deck of the airship above them.
"Blades at hand!" cried Natasha. She stared past him at the gloom of the tree line. "Pull back to the wreck!"
Mordecai snarled in frustration. "No! Above! We're being attacked from above!"
Natasha stared at him. "What? Who? How?"
"It's your damned husband!"
Gunshots rang out from the deck of the airship above. Mordecai ignored them. He ran down to the cargo net full of treasure, tied and connected to the ship by a rope. He sheathed his sword and leapt onto the cable, climbing up toward the Dawnhawk.
A strange howl arose from the ship above him. Mordecai saw a flash of light back near the helm and a pirate flew off the deck of the ship, yelling in Greisheim. Damn you, Konrad, he thought. He had been counting on the aetherite's help once he got aboard. The rope jerked beneath him; others were climbing now and following his lead.
The deck above grew ominously silent. Figures appeared, peeking over the gunwales. Directly above, Mordecai spied the waif he'd seen on Fengel's crew. She moved out of sight, then returned with a boarding hatchet in her hands.
No. "Don't you dare," he grunted. She raised the hatchet, and he saw a flash of pearly teeth in the dark. "No, no, no, no—" The hatchet swung down.
The rope parted with a snap and suddenly, horribly, he was falling. He landed in a tangle of pirates that fell back onto the treasure on the beach, bouncing and landing and rolling painfully down to the waterline in the sand. Mordecai put his pain to the back of his mind. He pushed himself up from the sand and clambered to his feet, looking for another means of getting back to the ship.
All around him the others were falling as well. Natasha landed with a yelp as the rope she'd been climbing was cut, and the other mooring lines were falling away, the pirates upon them landing on the wreckage of the Albatross or splashing into the river. The Dawnhawk started rising.