Chapter 82 - Active Defenses

“Battle stations!” I called out. I stomped on the floorboards as well, signal our stowaways to come out and be useful. Goblins started crawling out of every hole, nook, and cranny on the airship until we had about two-dozen strong. Not so long ago, this would have comprised the majority of the tribe.

“Rifles and slingers at the ready,” I said, marching up and down the deck. “Spears at the gunwales. Be ready to repel night haunts.”

Most of the goblins listened, breaking out the weapon and armor stores on the airship and beginning to pass out arms and ammo. Someone handed me a plate carrier and I pulled it on. Other goblins ran to the sides, looking for any sign of the dreaded silhouettes of the natural goblin predators that prowled the Lanclovan nights. Over the sound of the engine puttering, I could barely make out the distant baying of cliffords in the forest below.

Armstrong stood next to me, leaning over the rail, fists tightened around his rifle as he scanned for threats.

“Anything?” I asked him.

The hobgoblin squinted. Now that it was getting towards sunset, he’d have much better eyes than the rest of the goblins. “Nuffink yet, boss.”

I scanned as well, but the sky was completely clear. But it shouldn’t have been. “Can you see the other glider?” I asked. “Can anyone see the other glider?”

Nervous chitters went up and down the line. This was early in the evening, even for night haunts. The creatures relied on stealth and the cover of darkness to do their hunting. In the grand scheme of things, they weren’t that tough—except compared to goblins. But the sky was still their domain, and we’d been pressuring them like they’d pressured us.

I heard a soft beating that at first I dismissed for the snap of wind against the canvas, but it stopped. “Steady!” I called. “Spread out, don’t strain the rigging. Watch both sides. Eileen, lower the throttle.”

My air delivery captain hauled back on the throttle and the engine dropped to a low rumble.

Luther approached from behind, wringing his hands. “King Apollo, should we not make all haste to the village before we’re noticed?”

I shushed him. “You’ll face worse than this on your mission,” I said. “Besides, we’ve already been haunted.”

The noblin canoneer gasped. “How do you know?”

“Because,” I said, eyeing the numbers ticking down in a small display window, “We’re losing altitude.”

The night haunts, while not especially heavy, still weighed as much as a half-dozen goblins or more. That was apparently a few too many extra for Gertrude to hold aloft. We weren’t in danger of crashing, but if we dropped four thousand feet, we were still in for a bad night.

I grabbed one of the goblins and pointed up the rigging. “Check up top,” I whispered. “Be careful you don’t damage the balloons.”

He swallowed and moved to clamp his flint knife between his teeth. Once secure, he swung out on the webbing and began to scramble up the lines. I watched him disappear around the swell of the canvas as he scrabbled up to the top of the envelopes. All around me, goblins looked out, nervously clutching weapons. I steadied some of them, offering reassurances I only half-believed myself. But I was their king, and my presence now carried tangible buffs to their combat that were as good as any totem.

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

Since the goblin on top of the airship didn’t get immediately eaten, there was only one other option.

“It’s on the bottom!” I called out. “Eyes over the side, it’ll come from below!”

Goblins rushed to the sides again, angling spears and gun barrels down. A goblin next to me squawked and stabbed down, drawing my attention. But just as it did, the aircraft lurched hard to port, sending two goblins careening over the side and out into the air.

The night haunt clawed its way up, raking claws against the bottom of the wooden craft for purchase. Its lantern-yellow eyes glared up, it snapped its jaws, snapping off the forward third of the spear of the goblin on that side.

“Hold fast!” I yelled. “Keep the ship balanced! Spears and rifles!”

Rockettes thundered behind me as goblins with rifles took aim and started to pepper the creatures with shots. Thick smoke began to choke the deck of the airship, but I saw the gunners score several hits. Still, night haunts were tough, and not prone to giving up easy. Rather than retreat, this one hissed in rage went berserk, pulling itself through the hail of fire and sweeping several goblins aside in an effort to get at the gunners. I was surprised it knew what was hurting it, but then night haunts were unusually intelligent, even for Ravan monsters.

Other goblins charged out in front with spears with ceramic or shock tips, giving the gunners a chance to reload as they thrust forward with weapons that the haunt couldn’t simply ignore. Armstrong was in the middle of the line, deadly spear pushed up and blocking off a wide section of the ship. He stabbed his spear forward, shouting a battle cry. I hoped he would score a killing blow. Instead, the night haunt snapped his spear’s haft, tackled the hobgoblin holding it, and drove its beak down into Armstrong’s chest—only to recoil with a pained howl as the sharp beak cracked into a ceramic plate.

“Armstrong!” I yelled, pulling my new toy from my belt and rushing forward.

The hobgoblin gasped in pain, but the fact he wasn’t eviscerated thanks to his armored vest gave me hope. He raised his arms in defense as the night haunt started to rake with its claws. In such close quarters, the riflemen were hesitant to fire. Now that the creature was aboard and in the melee, they stood as much a chance of hitting their own friends as they did the raging beast attacking them. I raised the new prototype pistol Prometheus had given me and pulled back the hammer. Holding it in both hands, I centered the barrel on the bulk of the night haunt before it could drive down and hit Armstrong in the head.

I pulled the trigger, and the gun bucked in my hands. The night haunt jerked, whipped around, and smashed me with its tail. I went tumbling across the deck of the airship and nearly toppled over the side, but one of the scrappers managed to grab me and haul me back.

“Thanks!” I said.

“Don’t mention it. We almost got ‘im, boss!” said the scrapper, grinning.

The night haunt seemed to realize it was on the backfoot. These weren’t the same helpless goblins they’d preyed on a month ago. We had armor, we had weapons, and we had a fighting spirit hot off victory against the piggies. Hurt, confused, and suddenly frightened for its life, the night haunt pivoted and leapt from the side of the airship, spreading its wings into a glide. Several of the goblins raced to the side in order to take shots at the fleeing creature.

I ran up to them, slapping the backs of heads to get attention. “No, no! The slingers! Tag it!”

Armstrong was the one to take up position at the heavy slinger and angle it down at the fleeing night haunt. He launched a dart with a smoldering pot of scat, and it managed to strike the night haunt on the flank with the glowing, smoking marker. It bucked in mid-air, and flew harder.

“Eileen, full throttle!”

My pilot kicked the engine up to full power, and the airship shot forward. She heaved the rudder and turned us after the fleeing night haunt. The smoke from the smoldering tag gave us a trail to follow, even when the night haunt pulled away.

“Come on, come on,” I said as we pushed the airship north after the creature. We followed it for ten, maybe twelve minutes before I lost it among the foothills north of Village Apollo.

“There!” said Armstrong, pointing at a bare cliffside.

Eileen followed his direction and dropped our altitude, and I caught the hint of smoke coming out from a cave about two-thirds of the way up. Unless someone in there was cooking s’mores, this had to be our night haunt hideout.

“Not too close,” I warned Eileen. I suspected the night haunts kept sizable communities, like bats. I’d seen them circling in numbers, after all. And occasionally they attacked the village in pairs. We’d fended off one, but two or three would overwhelm the airship’s defenses, not to mention make it too heavy to maintain flight. Sure enough, I spotted two forms crawling on the rock face, and the flash of yellow eyes in the waning light. Neither were the one we’d fought.

“Alright, Eileen. Get us out of here,” I said.

Armstrong leaned on the gunwale and looked at the hole in the side of the hill as the bulky airship turned. “What do you want to do, boss?”

“We’ve got bigger worries for now. But They’ve been harassing the village for ages,” I said. “Let’s see how they like having that favor returned, yeah?”