The Dragon Chase: A Tale of the Everburning City

Chapter 23: Lucille

"Lines off! We're clear of the wall!" Lucille called out, waving to her charge once before she scampered off the railings to the middle of the deck.

Gerald saluted in response; that strange flick of two fingers from the forehead rather than the proper military salute. It was an odd gesture, and she had no idea where he learned it. His master, and the engineering crew for the airships, were the only people she had seen use it.

She was startled out of her musings as the propellers whirled to life, thrusting the ship away from the wall. Because of the distraction, she almost didn't notice that Gerald had reinvigorated the fires in the lift bag, barely bracing herself in time as the ship climbed towards the sky.

He's in a hurry; she noted while helping a soldier stand. He's normally gentler with the Songbird.

She turned to starboard, to stare at the still distant creature flying towards the City. It had drawn close enough to make out its wings, which appeared to explode with every dreadful beat. Smoke trailed in its wake, a slithering line of scorched air marking the Dragon's flight.

The single Valkyrie that now pointed towards the distant beast seemed woefully inadequate. The soldiers lined the railings with Salamanders in now trembling hands. Their guns, against the Dragon they chased, seemed as feeble as carving a wall with a spoon.

Or fighting a raging Crafter with knives.

She looked back at Gerald, who despite the outward calm and confidence he projected, was deeply shaken by his battle with the Rider. His hair now had a few small streaks of grey in it; ashen grey that glowed when he wielded the flame.

More troubling, the air around him seemed to shimmer, and anyone standing near him for more than a minute began to sweat.

He had already lost years of his life, saving Amelian and her soldiers from the Rider. How much more would he lose before this invasion was repelled? And how much more did he have to give?

And if he did lose himself, could she keep him from killing everyone aboard? She absent-mindedly rubbed her right arm, where above her sleeve the skin was riveted by scar tissue that ran up to her shoulder. She got off light in that battle, putting down a reject who finally lost himself. And that reject was a child compared to the Rider, who blew apart causeways and created explosions that could have enveloped the entire ship.

"It's ignoring us," Amelian said. Lucille cursed herself, silently, for ignoring the world around her while she was lost in thought. Amelian had just detached herself from a small group of soldiers, none of whom Lucille recognized, who still stood along the railing with salamanders in hand.

Another quick glance at the Dragon, and she understood what the Lieutenant was talking about.

"So it appears," Lucille admitted. The beast had not turned away from its course; the steady thunder of the fire exploding beneath its wings kept a beat that you could almost set a watch to.

"This may not be a siege," Amelian said, and Lucille blinked in confusion.

Amelian glanced over at her and quickly began to explain. "I was thinking about the enemy's overall strategy. In every invasion before, they punched into the City in a straight line. But the Golems have changed tactics. They break causeways, cut cable-car lines, and target squads. I thought it was a siege.But their opening move might have been to draw the Army away from the Bore, to give the Dragon free reign." She frowned and scratched her head. "I suppose it doesn't change our mission."

Lucille frowned and raised her eyebrow. "You speculate a lot."

"Sorry, Commander," Amelian replied. "It's a bad habit I learned on wall patrol. Valen's fault."