His captain looked half-mad. Mordecai wondered whether he should tell her. But duty won over in the end. "The Dawnhawk is dead ahead," he said.
She scowled. "Tell me something I don't know," she said, disappointment coloring her voice.
"We're gaining."
Natasha stared at him. Then she threw open the door and sauntered out onto the deck, brushing past him. She was still dressed, though her shirt was un-tucked and both her boots were missing.
The pirate captain strode up to the bow. Mordecai followed quietly as she stared out at the world. Natasha hissed suddenly, like a cat. She slapped the barrel of the carronade that the five crewmen struggled with.
"Get this mounted," she ordered them. "Dead ahead. Cut open the old gun ports in the bow again if you have to." She turned to Mordecai. "We've plenty of powder and shot left?"
He nodded. "I only dropped about half of what was in the magazine. We could fire all day if you really want to. But they have to see us. They know we want them dead. There's no way they'll let us catch up close enough."
"I don't care," said Natasha. She was almost vibrating with excitement, and her smile was ugly. "Get us closer, Mordecai. Get us back on top of our ship."
He returned to the helm and ordered the crew, keeping his thoughts suppressed. The sun rose, revealing more of the world around them. To his surprise the lookouts called out again; there were buildings ahead, just below where the Dawnhawk was hovering. What's this? Could they have found something?
Mordecai waited impatiently as the distance shrank between the two airships. He saw their prey clearly now, even spied the little figures running about on the deck. Anger, thick and raw, surged up in his breast, surprising him. Fengel had stolen his ship. Twice now. It was galling and incredible at the same time. Occasionally spats did arise between pirate captains. But never before had Natasha's Reavers come out the worse in these exchanges. Natasha herself fought harder and more ruthlessly than anyone Mordecai had ever known, desperate to move out from under her father's shadow. And until that tussle with Fengel aboard the Dawnhawk he had never found his match with a blade. This chase was no longer a futile desire of his captain's. He looked forward to the impending struggle. He would relish it.
Yet something was off. They were indeed catching up. With each passing minute they grew closer and closer. That shouldn't have been the case. Mordecai wondered what had happened. Had they sustained damage? Did something happen to them? It was obvious from the frantic scurrying that the enemy crew was aware of their presence. Why weren't they moving off?
Natasha gasped in surprise. Mordecai looked up at her, then walked to the portside rail and followed her gaze. His captain looked not at the Dawnhawk, but to the jungle down below. Peering down, he found himself blinking in surprise.
The jungle ahead of them fell completely away to reveal a wide valley with sheer cliff walls. Between those lay a city, the source of the ruins his lookouts had seen. Mordecai had never spied anything like it. It was massive, alien, and very strange. And far from empty. Figures moved about it, sized like human children, though odd in shape. They clustered in the streets below the Dawnhawk, hovering over the center of the city, and Mordecai heard the cry of their voices. Scryn, those dangerous flying nuisances, soared over the streets in agitation at the noise.
"What is this?" he wondered aloud.
His captain stared. Then she shook her head, narrowed her eyes and cast her gaze back at the airship off their bow. "It doesn't matter. We'll find out later, after we take our ship back."
The figures on the Dawnhawk moved frantically about. Fengel turned his airship about. Mordecai frowned. What had they been waiting for? There was still a chance at escape, the Queen was a wreck, but it was a slim one. Natasha growled as the Dawnhawk tacked ponderously into the wind and let it carry them to the far side of the valley.
"Damnation," she hissed. "Blast it!"
"We can't catch them," agreed Mordecai flatly. They were down to burning doors and cabinets scavenged from the interior for fuel.
They watched the airship pick up speed. Then, amazingly, it stopped. The Dawnhawk reached the northern wall of the valley, but rather than pass over it, she turned her nose eastward, following the cliff-line.
Natasha and Mordecai shared a look. They didn't waste time in wonderment, though—something was very odd here. Mordecai called out orders to the helm to give chase.
So it went. The Dawnhawk would fly ahead, the Copper Queen would chase doggedly behind. The stolen airship refused to leave the valley. But though she was faster and more refined, the Dawnhawk was still a dirigible, with limited maneuverability. Bit by bit they closed upon her.