Chapter Four Hundred and Twenty - Speed Through the Finish

With the Billowing Beast down and out for the count, I would have expected the others to surge ahead, but the crags were massive, and they were filled to the brim with troublemakers. They loomed, deep and unseeable from where we sat, a chaotic mishmash of reddish rocky outcrops and canyons where all sorts of mischief could be hidden. The only plantlife were a few tough bushes and gnarled trees clinging to the edges.

The Smokestack, having recovered from the Bellowing Beast’s attack, was now hurtling ahead into the crags, making up for a lot of its lost lead while nimbly dodging wires and fireballs from below.

The Shady Lady was making good time as well. Somehow the barrage balloons in its path exploded out of the air and came crashing down before the Lady’s passing, clearing the way for her to fly straight through.

The Dawn Screecher was sticking to the Lady’s rear, using the path Abraham was clearing to avoid some of the aerial traps.

“The Screecher and Shady Lady are neck and neck!” the announcer hollered, leaning over the edge of the broadcast tower. “But will they survive the gauntlet ahead?”

As if on cue, a hailstorm of rocks burst from the crags, flung skyward by unseen catapults. Smokestack banked sharply to the right, narrowly avoiding a near-fatal impact. Shady Lady followed suit, zipping around an incoming boulder with finesse.

The attack didn't end there. More barrage balloons rose from the crags, tethered by steel cables that were nearly invisible from this far away. One ship, the Hasty Harpoon, wasn't quick enough to swerve, its balloon crumpling around a Broccoli-sized boulder that sent the ship spiralling downwards in a terrifying freefall.

Just as the racers were reaching the middle of the crags and those in the lead were getting a hang of the traps, a swarm of little figures rushed up out of a canyon.

“And here come the Red Wing’s red-winged fighters!” the announcer roared.

“Harpies,” Amaryllis said. She squinted. “With some sort of flight magic.”

The harpy rose up in a fairly tight formation, creating a net of some two dozen figures who raised what looked like a mix of crossbows and sticks to point to the incoming airships. The bolts they fired were invisible from this distance, but the magic wasn’t. Fireballs, balls of turbulent wind, light, lightning, and conjured materials mixed with the bolts to pepper the ships in the lead.

The Shady Lady somehow kept flying true, spells exploding apart before they could meet her hull. The harpy scattered.

They didn’t even try to attack the Dawn Screecher and I felt like shouting about the unfairness of that. They did lay into the next ship to come up.

“Oh, the Humanity!” the announcer shouted.

“Wait, that one’s called the Humanity?” I asked.

"You heard him, right?" Amaryllis gave me a weird look. "Do you need your ears checked?"

"No, it just reminded me of ... never mind."

She huffed, and turned back to the action with a faint smirk.

The once-organised race had devolved into complete pandemonium. Ships bobbed and weaved, desperately avoiding cables, rocks, and the diving harpies. The Dawn Screecher, having caught up to the pack, was showing its own fangs, retaliating against the barrage of projectiles with a volley of its own.

Suddenly, a triumphant cheer erupted from the crowd. Following their gaze, my heart leaped as I saw Shady Lady breaking free from the chaos, zipping around a last barrage balloon and soaring towards the clearing ahead.

“And the Shady Lady emerges from the gauntlet unscathed!” the announcer shouted. “What a sight to behold, ladies and gentlemen!”

We were going to win! I cheered along with the crowd.

Then something big and dark surged out of the woodline right at the end of the crags and the crowd’s cheer turned into a collective gasp.

“Is that a dragon?!” the announcer squawked. He sounded like this was very much not supposed to happen.

I stared. The creature did look pretty dragon-like, a big lizard with wings, but it only had two long legs, and wasn’t nearly as big as a real dragon. I’d seen that kind of creature before. Heck, I’d ridden on one. A wyvern!

The creature roared, and I noticed that someone was riding on its back, a long lance held by their side as they rushed towards the Shady Lady.

It felt like the world slowed down for a moment, as if everyone’s laser focus made the world itself still its breath.

On the one side, the wyvern, a big one, with its rider clearly ready to stab the Shady Lady with what I imagined was a magical lance while the wyvern itself coiled its lower body around to bring its massive talons to bear.

On the other, the Shady Lady, looking a bit rusty and a bit rough, but still stately in her own way.

A small figure rushed across the deck of the Shady Lady so quickly that I almost missed it, then they launched off the end of her bow with a massive “Hah-ha!” that I heard clearly all the way from where I sat.

My jaw went a little slack as Abraham Bristlecone jumped off the front of his airship two hundred metres off the ground, brought both arms up above his head, then swung downwards, his fists tightly balled together.

His strike smashed into the wyvern’s face with a loud whump, snapping its jaw shut and sending the entire beast spinning head-over tail toward the ground below.

“What,” Calamity said.

Abraham fell after the wyvern, but something told me he’d be alright... probably the trailing “Hahahaha!” of laughter that faded away as he dropped right into one of the canyons.

“The poor wyvern,” I said. “I hope it’s okay.”

“I’m sure it’s... fine,” Caprica said.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I don’t even know what to say!” the announcer bellowed. “But that was spectacular!”

The Shady Lady did a hard turn, swooping around in a great big spiral and losing a lot of its momentum as it dropped over the spot where Abraham had disappeared to. Was Raynold going to pick up his friend?

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It could cost them the race! The Smokestack was flying out of the crags already, and with no wyvern for them to face, it didn’t take much for the airship to shoot past the Shady Lady.

The crowd gasped again, but not out of shock this time. The tension was high as everyone strained their eyes to see the outcome of the Shady Lady's rescue mission.

There was a flash of light, then a small shape rocketed skyward from the forest. My breath hitched as I recognized the figure of Abraham Bristlecone, his body ablaze with magic as he shot back towards the Shady Lady, arms outstretched.

As if choreographed, Raynold turned the airship sharply, its side lined up with Abraham's trajectory. With a triumphant cheer from the crowd, Abraham grasped the edge of the ship, swung himself up onto the deck, and saluted the crowd.

Incredible as the sight was, they were well behind the Smokestack, now. The rival airship was rapidly approaching the finish line, its engines revving hard - if my friends wanted to pull out a win, they would need to close the distance fast.

“Hold on to your seats, folks,” the announcer bellowed. “It's going to be a photo finish!”

The Lady howled after the Smokestack, The Dawn Screecher pulling up alongside her with the rest of the more timid racers coming up in the rear.

I clung, white-knuckled, to the girder we were sitting on as the ships came around the far end of the city. There was a small pit in my tummy as the obvious became only more obvious. There was no way the Lady would be winning now.

The Smokestack came around and roared past the finish line. The crowd went wild, the howl of applause and cheers mixed with a smattering of boos. Even though I was disappointed that the Shady Lady hadn't won, it was hard not to get caught up in the sheer energy of the crowd.

The announcer's voice broke through the noise. “And the winner of the Airlords Grand Race is... the Smokestack!” There was another round of applause, louder this time, and I saw the crew of the Smokestack pumping their fists in the air in victory.

The Shady Lady followed not too far behind, crossing the finish line with grace and dignity. The Dawn Screecher was hot on her tail, while the other racers trickled in one by one.

“I need to see uncle!” Awen said.

We scrambled down from our perch and hurried to push through the thick crowd forming at the base of the tower. Mostly they were mechanics and crewmates of the racers. It was easy to tell which crews had placed well because they were the ones cheering the most.

The announcer said something else, and there was more clapping, but it was hard to make out over the hollering and the rumble of idling airship engines.

The Smokestack did a victory lap around the hill where the spectators were sitting, and that only got people more excited.

The other ships were either still coming in to cross the line, or coming to a landing further out in a field dedicated to just that. Some race organisers were there, along with ground crews who were picking up the ropes tossed from above to anchor the ships down.

The Shady Lady was near the far end of the space, gently lowering herself with the help of a few big guys on the ground.

One of those men was Abraham. He must have ridden one of the lines down to Dirt, or maybe he just jumped off the Shady Lady.

“Uncle!” Awen shouted.

Abraham turned to look at us, his face breaking into a wide grin. “Ah-hah! There you are!” he boomed, catching Awen in a crushing hug as she reached him.

“I saw your jump! That was amazing!”

Abraham set her down, then rudely mussed up her hair. “That was nothing! You should have seen the look on the face of that lizard! Haha!”

I was smiling from ear to ear. “That was so cool!” I cheered. “It was like something out of a movie!”

“A what?” Abraham asked.

“That’s a Broccism, you can ignore it,” Amaryllis said. “How’d the ship come out of it?” She gestured to the Shady Lady above, and I glanced up as well.

She’d gained a couple of scuffs and scratches and I noticed a trio of crossbow bolts planted in the wood of her hull. Overall though, she didn’t look that bad. Better than when I'd first seen her, certainly, though I imagined that Awen and Raynold might disagree.

“Few bumps and bruises, a couple of dents,” Abraham said, patting the hull. “Nothing we can't fix up with a little elbow grease. She's sturdy, our Lady. Wouldn't trade her for all the gold in the world.”

“She did well,” I agreed, looking up at the grand airship with newfound respect. “You all did.”

“Ah, we're second best, but it ain't the worst thing in the world. Gives us something to aim for next time.” He gave Awen’s back a firm thump, one that almost sent her sprawling. “Couldn’t have done it without you! Haha! Never came this close to winning in a race before!”

“I’m proud of you all!” I said, unable to contain my excitement. It was hard not to be infected by the exhilaration of the moment.

Awen grinned, rubbing her back where her uncle had thumped her. “Awa! We'll do even better next time, right, Uncle?”

“Haha, that’s the spirit!” Abraham clapped Awen on the back again, but more gently this time. “With our Awen working on the Lady, we'll be unbeatable next time!”

As if on cue, there was a roar of an engine overhead, and we looked up to see the Smokestack doing another victory lap. Its crew waved triumphantly at the crowd, and cheers erupted anew from the spectators.

“Next time, that'll be us,” Awen vowed, her eyes on the circling ship. There was a fire in her gaze that I hadn’t seen before.

“Indeed it will be, lass,” Abraham agreed, patting her on the shoulder. “But maybe it’ll be you, not us. You’ve got a ship and crew of your own, don’t you?”

“Right,” Awen said.

***