"Get back here!" shouted Mordecai at the retreating airship. "Get back down here and face me, you cowards!"
Light bloomed up above. Lanterns on the unseen deck illuminated the ribbed gas-bag frame. A tall figure in an officer's coat leaned over the rail amidships. "Hallo the beach!" he cried.
One of Natasha's crew, Reaver Jane, took an enterprising shot with a pistol. It went wide. Two more figures leaned over the railing, each with an oil-lantern. Mordecai recognized Sarah Lome and the waif. Fengel's monocle reflected their light.
Natasha picked herself out from the pile of pirates she'd collapsed into. "You're alive!" she yelled in surprise.
"So sorry to disappoint," replied Fengel.
"Get down here!" cried Mordecai. "Get down here and fight me!"
Fengel rubbed his chin. "Now, why would I do that? I have my new ship back, and a hold full of treasure to boot! No, I think we'll be flying away now. Enjoy the beach." He made to turn away.
"Fight me fairly!" snarled Mordecai. He drew his blade and shook it at the airship as it lifted away. "Come back and fight me fairly, you dog!"
Fengel paused, and looked back down at the snarling pirates below him. "Now, Mordecai. What was it that you said?" The pirate captain made a show of rubbing his chin, as if he were having trouble remembering something. Then he snapped his fingers. "Ah. That's it. We're pirates, after all. Yes." He moved out of sight as braying, mocking laughter echoed out from the unseen deck above. The waif waved down at him and disappeared.
"Shoot them!" screamed Mordecai. "Get aboard, kill them!"
A few shots rang out. None of them hit an important mark. Natasha and her pirates ran frantically around, uncertain what to do. Mordecai raged. But it wouldn't do any good, he knew. Fengel and his Men moved out from under the Copper Queen, rising higher and higher as the raincloud above them disappeared.
A wind picked up, sending the Copper Queen drifting southward. The Dawnhawk flew away, with all their treasure aboard. And there was nothing he could do.
Chapter Thirteen
"Again," said Allen. "Thanks for not leaving me behind."
Lina moved another barrel aside. "Mmhmm."
"I really do appreciate it.
The storeroom was dark and cluttered. Sealed casks filled it almost to the ceiling of the deck above them. They held provisions like salt pork and fresh water. Other objects were jammed in there as well: ropes, spare lumber, boxes of nails. Small spaces threaded between the piles to form a twisty, winding maze that Lina could just squeeze through. At the door behind her stood Allen, the Mechanist-in-training. He held up an oil lantern scavenged from the stocks. It threw odd shadows about the confines of the space.
Three hours had passed since the retaking of the Dawnhawk. It had been absurdly easy. Fueled by their anger, Fengel's Men had overpowered the skeleton crew left aboard the ship, even continuing to pull up the loot that Natasha's Reavers thought they were recovering. Once they'd been discovered, Fengel had Sarah Lome cut all the mooring lines. The airship floated up and away into the night, leaving the Copper Queen drifting the other way, and his foul harpy of a wife screaming epithets from the sandy beach she and most of her crew were marooned upon. In all, Lina thought they'd let her go easy.
But she couldn't argue with results. There were eight captives aboard, and Fengel and Lucian were seeing to them now. She'd scurried about with the crew, making sure they were shipshape and that there hadn't been any surprises arranged since last they'd been aboard. The Mechanist took the change in command impassively, grabbing Allen by the ear and lecturing him all the way down to the boiler room. Things had quieted, and now they hovered over the jungles of the Yulan, heading for Breachtown and its break in the Stormwall with a hold full of silver and gold. Lina had begged off as soon as she could, and now scoured the dark corners of the ship belowdecks after finding Allen out on some task for the Mechanist.
The room was of a fair size. Someone, or something could hide fairly well back here a long time before being noticed. With the recent activity in the hold she doubted that her missing pet would be there, or even on the same deck. Back here though, with pork, water, and plenty of dark crannies to hide in, she thought there was a fairly good chance of finding him. At least she hoped so. Lina wasn't particularly fond of the idea of searching the coal-stores, which was the next place on her list.
She hadn't meant to keep the thing. Especially with how badly off they'd been in the aftermath of the scryn attack. But there was just something so...innocent about the runty little creature. It reminded her of herself, in a way; both of them were small and deeply out of their element. It hadn't tried to attack her after it returned, and seemed almost affectionate. Though admittedly that might have been the drink. So she gave it a tipple to knock it out, shoved it in a bag, and took it down below to her hammock. As soon as they'd come aboard again she'd gone down to the bunks; her few meager possessions had been gone through, but the sack was still there. It was split open however and covered in blood. Human, though. Someone had obviously found the little scryn. Maybe they had even killed it. But she hoped not. I should at least have a look around.