What
came across the hill that night was a host of nightkind, flying to
keep pace around a vast, crownlike shape, and bent mass of horns and
thorns. Half the sky around was rendered starless by their approach,
and no small height of the arch of the sky, before we could make out
any individual shapes. It seemed that despite the blackness, the host
must be shedding light – the ground under it grew paler instead of
darker. Moments later, we saw that under to approach of the horde,
the grass of the hills shriveled away, leaving only dust and sand in
their wake.
We
opened fire, from turrets heavy with lighting spitters, on the side
of the stone-and steel fortress of Kimble's mind. It rained bodies
wherever we directed those energies. In response, the horde simply
put on speed. The mind that guided us knew the balance of our basic
forces. If it could land enough strength on the fortress quickly,
those forces could hammer us all into bruised wakefulness, at least,
if not worse. Then it could take as long as it liked to tear our
memories apart, leaving the survivors as infantile wrecks.
Of
course, if we were all here, then even a small force sent against our
pillars could thrash them utterly. Kether-Kinal sent a large one.
We chopped at it with light, and Gina, Vee and George launched in
pursuit, as it broke away on our right flank. Then the swarms drew
near.
Shouting,
screaming, flailing, hatches were slammed, weapons abandoned. We
slid deep into the flying fortress, and shuttered ourselves away, as
the swarms began to latch on to every surface, pouring in and in,
uncountable. The grreater share of the weight of the horde pressed
in on us.
Then
the flying fortress caught fire, crisping hundreds of nightkind all
at once and injuring thousands badly. Our three heavy flyers
reversed course, opening fire from turrets identical to those that
had been abandoned on the fortress. They aimed squarely at the black
crown. In the city itself, Ray gave up focusing on maintaining the
phantoms he'd kept in place on the distant flying fortress, and
recreated them all around him. They snatched up lightning rifles,
and were joined by mist-things rising from the ground, to face the
incoming assault.
Our
bag of tricks was nearly spent, but now we looked to have a brawl on
our hands. A portion of the flames drew back, and Joy, Kimble,
Clara, and I stepped out on the main gunnery platform. From there,
we let loose another scorching assault on the front of the crown.
The surface cracked and crackled as our beams, and those that Gina,
Vee and Gerorge were striking with, drilled into it.
Even
as we cracked open the surface of the crown, though, the masses of
nightkind remaining broke fully away from the flying fortress and
smothered our aircraft. The craft Gina and George were piloting
blossomed into bright explosions; suicide switches were fast. Vee
managed to fly free, shooting starward. The crown itself powered
forward, and as it came into contact with the flying fortress, slid
horns deep into the mass of it. Kimble screamed beside me; blood
gushing from his nose.
"Joy,
NOW!"
It
was earlier than intended; hardly any breach at all. But moments
delayed meant ever more permanent damage to Kimble, and if he
faltered, we might be left standing on nothing but plummeting stones.
Joy stretched out a hand, and a bridge spun out from her, golden
bricks forming an arch towards the broken rift in the crown itself.
Clara, Ulla, and I ran. Sensing some kind of threat, the
crown began to pull back. The bridge snapped, even as I caught
Clara's hand and jumped. It wasn't enough; I had jumped high, but
not nearly as far as needed.
Clara
saved us, snapping open a hanglider to finish the jump, and then
closing it like some giant fan as we landed. She drew a block of
metal from inside her jacket, next, and spun it onto the closed
staff, producing a massive sledgehammer. She spun, the head of the
hammer burning white hot, and knocked in a shard almost three times
our size on the broken surface. We dove in, nightkind flooding after
us.
There,
in the dark, over the wetly glistening curves we slid over swiftly,
Kethel-Kinal roused itself. Centauroid, it rose up on four enormous
legs, stretching arms thicker than I was tall. Golden flames caught
and held, from which I could feel the power of sight emanating.
Their light roved across leathered skin and a head, faceless but
hugely antlered. It stepped slowly forward, fifty feet in height,
and snatched up a jagged splinter of bone, as long as it was, from
thrashing serpentine tail to awful-crowned head.
It
came at us, spear reaching out, and we threw ourselves in all
directions. I went left, Clara went right, and Ulla sprinted under
the belly of the thing. Clara was first to come to a considered
response, she fled for a solid surface. On arrival, she drew out a
bazooka, and let fly. Kether-Kinal took the hit to one side of the
head. It screamed as many of its antlers shattered and it skin
seared. It reared, and smashed back down onto Clara, shattering her
body across the floor, stamping and kicking at the body over and
over.
It
had made a mistake in spending those extra moments, though. Ulla had
shared one of her tricks with me that I had not, until that moment,
dared to use. Grown forty feet tall, I jumped to straddle it,
clutching the flanks of it with my taloned feet. I drove my claws
into Kether-Kinal from behind, reaching up into something very like a
ribcage, and hauling out what I could take hold of in there. As it
bucked and reared, I felt it crash into my head, and lost sight in
one eye. I held tight, digging in again and again, tearing and
flinging the innards of the thing in all directions.
As
it hit the floor, the great vessel of the crown began to collapse. I
fled, shedding size and weight as I went.
