Pirin and Gray skimmed above the surface of the ocean as fast as they could. The gnatsnapper’s wingbeats tore up a wake of water behind them, and the wind rushed around Pirin. He guided it in a cone in front of them, forcing a more aerodynamic shape and coaxing out more speed. The mist turned into a parachute of white cloud.

Pirin squinted. To the left were the distant starlit hills of the Aerdian coats, and to the right—only a few gnatsnapper wingspans away—was the titanwood hull of a Sirdian battleship.

“Once we’re past this ship, it’s fair game,” he whispered, leaning in close to Gray’s feathery nape. “A straight shot ahead.”

Plenty of targets, plenty of carnage! Gray’s voice rang out in his mind, uncharacteristically cool and bloodthirsty. You’d best be ready with the Shattered Palm! I want to see some explosions!

They breezed past the sharp, angular stern of the battleship, then kept below the main deck until they passed the blocky superstructure and its candlelit lattice windows. Pirin pulled up and shot over one of the enormous ballista platforms. The wind in their wake washed across the deck, putting out candles and torches, but the crew—archers, ballistamen, and flak catapult artillerists—looked up and cheered at him.

At you? Gray exclaimed. No, no, they cheered for you!

Pirin rolled his eyes. “So I…misspoke? Misthought?”

Have some pride!

“Maybe when we’ve won the battle.”

They launched around the rising prow of the battleship, and the battle expanded ahead of them. The sea burned. Titanwood ships duelled across the waves in a close melee, launching ballista bolts at each other. Upon impact, the alchemical warheads detonated in an explosive pulse, ripping up hull and throwing splinters into the dim night air. Their triangular sails burned, sending columns of smoke high up into the sky, blotting out the moons and stars.

Gnatsnappers whirled overhead like seagulls, duelling amongst themselves and occasionally making attack runs on the enemy ships. Flak catapults spewed rocks and gravel at them, shredding them into red mist and feathers, and their heavy dive-bombing payloads splashed into the sea, before detonating and throwing up a mountain of flatsam-filled water.

Pirin could barely tell which ships were Aerdian, let alone which birds were, but he had a job to do.

Destroy! That’s our job! Gray exclaimed.

Pirin clenched his teeth, then guided Gray lower again. “Not exactly…”

They had to clear a way for the Sirdian fleet to advance ashore. If they couldn’t open the Ilerioch delta-gates, their campaign inland would be one of the shortest ever. The Aerdian fleet needed to keep them miles offshore, and the Sirdian fleet needed to break through.

And Pirin was late to the fray. He and Gray had flown down as soon as they could. He hadn’t even been back to Northvel yet since he’d returned to the Elven Continent.

But there was no better time to make this push. No one knew when reinforcements would arrive, and their west-coast fleets had no other skirmishes to attend to. It was now or never.

Pirin tugged Gray’s nape to the left, guiding her around the edge of a cluster of ships. A frigate’s warhead magazine exploded, and Pirin threw out a Winged Fist to the side, pushing the flames and debris away.

It’s hard to maneuver so low! Gray exclaimed.

“If we go any higher, we’ll be easy pickings for their flak catapults!” He pushed his mask tighter onto his face. His gnatsnapper-Essence form was best for speed and maneuverability, and he could manipulate the wind to keep them from crashing into other ships.

If we stay low, we’re not going to do any damage!

“That’s what the Sirdian fleet is for! They’re doing their job!” Pirin strained his eyes, trying to see through a cloud of smoke. He coughed and choked on a cloud of sawdust, then used a Winged Fist to clear it all away. “But if the gate bombers don’t get in the air, we’re in trouble. I need to group up with the squadron!”

Fine! No…destruction, though?

“I’ll see what we can do.”

The bird carriers wouldn’t have engaged in the melee intentionally, but as the battle progressed, they’d have gotten tied up just the same. Now, near the northern end of the fray, the Sirdian fleet carrier Fealty floated amidst a desperate cluster of defending frigates and destroyers. Enemy birds descended from all angles, and ballista bolts splashed into the water all around it.

Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

It had a battleship’s hull, but instead of ballistae and a superstructure, it carried a flat, rectangular deck, with titanwood lattices and spars holding it up. Its sails sprouted out the side on horizontal spars, and a single command tower peered above the left side of its flight deck.

“That’s it,” Pirin said, guiding Gray around a pair of duelling battleships. He centered the Fealty in his vision, and charted a course through the battle. He reached up and tapped the side of his head, where a simple leather headset strapped a windstone over his ear. A carved wooden strand held a smaller receiving windstone in front of his mouth. As the air blew through the stones, they accepted and transmitted voices.

“Admiral Geanir, do you hear me? It’s Pirin.”

“By the Split, your majesty!” a voice exclaimed from the ear-facing windstone. “When we heard that you’d be joining us, we didn’t believe it!”

Pirin clenched his jaw as he launched a technique to blast aside a volley of flaming arrows, then pulled up to avoid an unusually accurate repeating crossbow operator. “Apologies for the short notice. Is the squadron ready for the bombing run?”

“We have them equipped with gate-busters, but we can’t launch until we clear out these fiends around us,” the admiral replied, then shouted an unintelligible order to someone. “Their flak catapults will knock the squadron out of the sky before they can drop a single bomb.”

“I can help with that,” Pirin said. “Hold on.”

“You’re sure, my lord? Your Embercore—”

“Don’t worry about me, Admiral.”

“...If you say so.”

Pirin was about to manipulate the wind so it wouldn’t flow into the stone, deactivating it, when a new voice chimed into the channel: “Pirin, it’s Nomad. Do you hear me?”

“Loud and clear, sir,” Pirin replied. Nomad had flown south aboard the Featherflight as well, but with his spirit shattered and broken, he’d stayed aboard the fleet carrier. The Featherflight, being a small smuggling airship, was no good in a battle like this. Alyus and Brealtod would keep away from the fighting.

“All pilots in the bombing squadron have windstones linked to yours. Once they’re in the air, they’re in your command. Remember, Pirin, if you fuel the runes on a ballista bolt’s warhead before it launches, they’ll detonate early. You can cause a lot of damage to the ships around you.”

“Got it,” Pirin said. “You hear that, Gray? We’re going to wreak some havoc after all.”

Now that’s what I’m looking for! she exclaimed. Her voice almost came through as a draconic hiss, like wind in a deep canyon. Switch to the Shattered Palm. I can maneuver from here.

Pirin pulled off his rune-covered mask and let it hang around his neck—he’d attached a strap to it on the flight down—and cycled pure, unstable Essence. He was a Blaze now. It was time to test his techniques against a full-sized ship.

“That frigate!” he called, pointing at a vessel circling the Fealty. Its ballista were loaded and ready to fire. “It’s our first target. Pull up at the last minute!”

As you wish!

As they approached the frigate, Pirin charged a Shattered Palm. He cycled Essence quickly and steadily, feeding it subconsciously through the Memory Chain. Without his mask, his Essence was guaranteed to destabilize, perfect fuel for the Shattered Palm.

The Aerdian frigate wasn’t as blocky or rigid as the Dominion warships Pirin had grown most used to seeing. Its hull and bulwarks swooped down at the midship, and raised again near the stern. A single mast climbed out the hull’s center, supporting a triangular lateen sail on either side. Ambersteel shields hung on the railings and around the flak catapult turrets.

Elven archers turned to face Pirin and Gray. As soon as they fired their volley, Gray pulled up. Her wingbeats knocked the arrows and crossbow bolts down into the water. She swooped around the back of the superstructure, then aimed directly for the two main ballistae at the front of the ship. Pirin launched his Shattered Palm, sending a seven-foot tall handprint of blue energy surging through the air.

The force of the attack alone shattered the ballista and broke its strings, but the Essence motes swirled around in the aftermath, falling on the rune-inscribed warheads of the bolts and detonating them. The entire upper platform blossomed into fire and smoke, and the windows of the control bridge behind it shattered.

Pirin jumped off Gray’s back and landed on the lower, front ballista platform, then drew his sword.

It wasn’t a full sword. He’d shattered Nynhar when recruiting the weavelings, and there had been no time to reforge it. Instead, he held the broken six-inch long stub of the hilt and blade.

It was enough. His core was full of Essence, and he needed some place to use it. He activated his full-body fortification technique, the Fracturenet, and darted around the lower ballista platform, incapacitating and killing ballista operators.

Gray circled around the front of the ship, then flew back the opposite direction, keeping low and evading the flak and repeating crossbow bolts. When she was close enough, Pirin jumped off the platform and landed back on her saddle, then delivered a second weaker Shattered Palm to detonate the ballista bolts.

With its two front turrets out of commission, the frigate would have no choice but to retreat. But even if it didn’t, it posed no threat to the Fealty anymore.

Pirin and Gray circled around the imperiled carrier, destroying the ballista turrets of its enemies before they could attack, all while swooping and swerving away from arrows and enemy bird riders. Another frigate’s magazine detonated, a heavy cruiser retreated when Pirin splintered its mainmast with a Shattered Palm, and pair of light, single-ballista ships were neutralized when Pirin annihilated their main armament.

He activated his windstone again and shouted, “Admiral, do you hear me?”

“We hear you, your majesty,” replied Admiral Geanir. “Marvelous work with the Aerdian ships.”

“Can you launch the squadron now?”

“We’re sending the first group up to the flight deck now. They’re wind-tuned to you, and they hear you right now.”

“Wonderful,” Pirin said. “Launch as soon as you can. We’ll make our attack run on the delta-gate as soon as they’re in the air.”