Author's Notes:

This chapter was difficult to write because it's basically an entire battle sequence, and I'm not very good at doing battle sequences. For those still following this story, thank you for your support, and I hope you'll enjoy. Feel free to flip through the earlier chapters as well because I know a long time has passed since the last update and you might feel a bit disoriented to continue.

Edit: I forgot that I'd intended for some of the smaller zepps to be taken out in this battle, so I added some more fighting in the middle.


The zeppelins scanned the snow systematically, while still others poked their lights into the dark clouds. Deryn had known — everyone had known — that they might be in for a tough one, but in truth, nobody had been expecting ten barking ships. She supposed that the escaped ornithopter must've told the Germans exactly how terrifying that acid bomb was.

Barking spiders, she thought to herself as she watched from the half-open bomb bay. Wonder how we're going to fight those.

Her air sense had never failed her, and even on a brand new ship, she was able to quickly map out where she needed to be. The Valkyrie wasn't a training vessel, so naturally there weren't any middy openings for her to fill, but the bomb bay needed an extra hand, so off she'd gone, before Mr. Rigby could find her and drag her to some bat feeding.

Good thing, too. With most of the ship hidden inside a cloud, the bridge and the bomb bay were pretty much the only places where one could actually see something. She shuddered to imagine the two lady boffins and poor Alek, being stuck in the central machine room — for their own safety, or so the Lieutenant had said — not knowing what's going on or what's going to happen.

The zeppelins spread out, like a pack of wolves sniffing for a trail. The circles of white made by their searchlights threaded through the air, strings of a net drawing tight.

Deryn held her breath as one of the zeppelins' lights crept across the white expanse like a wandering finger groping in the dark, closer and closer to where the Leviathan lay.

And then they touched.

The giant airbeast's form leapt into the brightness, massive with its skin red with fake blood, instruments all awry, bursting into the forefront like some ancient sea monster carcass spotted by submarine explorers. The search light paused for a moment, as if trying to make out the scene of carnage, before swinging wildly in circles around the downed airbeast. Deryn could imagine the bewildered German crew, suddenly faced with a dead airbeast, trying to find any clue of where the British might have gone.

"Well, they found 'er alright," someone said quietly.

The news must have spread quickly, because before long all the German ships were refocusing their searchlights in the direction of the Leviathan. In the ponderous, graceful way of airships, they glided to where the airbeast was; a pod of orcas converging around a dead blue whale.

After a brief conference, which must've taken place over the radio, all six of the smaller Kondors and Harpyiens broke off in different directions, radiating their search out from the Leviathan.

The Ragnarok yet remained, along with her three Albtraum honor guards, hovering over the airbeast. Deryn knew Captain Hobbes would be readying the sonar amplifier by now, preparing to strike. The bats had been instructed to fly high above the ship after eating their dose of lethal metal, but she wasn't certain when they'd forget that command and come out on their own. Not to mention, she wasn't sure how long the Leviathan's disguise would hold out.

"Come on. Land. Land, ye bastards," muttered a crewman beside her.

"'Reckon they saw through her trick?" asked another.

"Not yet," Deryn replied. "At least I barking hope not."

The Germans took their sweet time. The ships must have been hovering for a good five minutes before one of the Albtraums lurched in the sky.

All of them watched with bated breath, until softly it began to sink towards the snow.

The bridge must have seen the same. Instantly the Valkyrie began to move; the speaking tube echoed with Hemmingfeld's voice.

"Bomb bay to battle stations," he barked in his slight Eirish accent. "Your target is the Albtraum on the ground. We will be engaging their flagship from the air."

"Sir, what about the other two Albtraums?" asked Ross, the officer assigned to head the bomb bay.

"Our turrets will keep them busy."

"Right you are, sir," Ross said, dubiously.

Deryn shared his doubts. Barring the massive 800-feet Ragnarok, which was more than a respectable match for the Leviathan even if the latter were in her prime, the two Albtraums boasted a combined length of well over 1000 feet, and bristled with cannons. There was no doubt the Valkyrie was a superb airship that could probably take on quite a few of its own class, but petite was the only word to compare her to the German giants. She just hoped the circling strafing gliders and bats would be able to even the odds a little.

They glided through the clouds, slowly and quietly like some stalking predator. They were about a mile or so due southeast of the Leviathan, and the Kondors were fanning out. It wouldn't be long before they were seen even with cloud cover, and soon they were rising into the cloud itself. Wisps of icy fog drifted in from the slits in the bomb bay doors, and Deryn shivered. It seemed much colder than on the ground.

Deryn helped push the heavy crates of explosives to the mouth of the bomb bay doors. The metal shells were only about a feet in length, but each unassuming piece held enough power to cripple a walker, or blow a mighty hole through any alumiron zeppelin skin.

"Are the bombs in position?" asked Hemmingfeld.

"Aye, sir," answered Ross, as soon as the doors were pulled inward to lay flat against the ship's belly. The wind whistled gently; prime weather for bombing.

"The Lev is waiting for our explosives as a signal. Don't miss."

"Aye, sir."

Deryn wondered how they were to see their target. All she could see at the moment was darkness.

The silence dragged on endlessly. They waited, hands on the crate. Deryn tried to concentrate on the clouds, willing her gaze to penetrate their depths.

Then she felt the ship's floor give away beneath her. The crew shifted to regain their balance as the Valkyrie plunged a hundred and fifty feet through the cloud cover. Mist flooded the bomb bay before dispersing into freezing droplets that clung to the walls.

And suddenly they were through, clear sky below them. The shadowy bulk of one of the Albtraums laid directly beneath, tethered to the ground with makeshift moorings. The Germans had taken the bait.

"There's the zepp!" shouted Ross. "Now!"

They heaved with all their might at the crate by their side. It complained in heavy creaks, resisting their attempts, but when enough of it went over the edge, gravity did the rest. It tipped ponderously in midair, and its deadly cargo came sprinkling like rain through the open top, the metal shells falling almost straight down. Their position was impeccable; there was no way they would miss.

"Bombs away!" shouted Ross into the speaking tube.

The flash came first, far too bright in the midnight darkness. The Valkyrie was already retreating back into cloud cover when the sound of it struck, a dull boom and then a slight tremor. Deryn squinted to shield herself from the flood of white, and thought she could make out the terrible mangled form of the Albtraum's smote ruin.

It felt like an underhanded backstab, but Deryn told herself to not think of it that way. The odds were too great for a proper battle.

There was a sense of urgency now — as they rose, already they could hear the buzzing of aeroplanes being unleashed in the distance. Their cloudy shroud should disguise them for a few more minutes; everything depended on this precious window of attack.

"Ragnarok at three o'clock!" Deryn heard Hemmingfeld saying. "Air cannons, be on the look out for planes and thopters. You are free to engage the enemy once in range."

The ship rumbled as all her engines kicked into full throttle, speed having replaced silence as their new priority. Wisps of cloud rushed past as they sped straight toward the great German flagship.

Abruptly the cloud broke, and there it was off their starboard bow, guns all out rotating like hounds sniffing the air for their prey. Mere seconds now, the bomb crew jostled for a view and Deryn wished the window were just a bit barking bigger

"Now!" Hemmingfeld roared, his voice clear even though the command wasn't aimed at the bomb bay speaking tube.

Above them came the pop of a full broadside of air cannons. The searchlight of the Ragnarok came spilling out on all sides — someone had spotted them, no doubt — but the Valkyrie paused a moment, before giving a thunderous roar, and they slowed, and slowed, and started going backwards into the cloud.

Orange flame burst forth from some of the bristling spikes on the side of the massive shadowy bulk, the boom of artillery reaching them a split second later. The Valkyrie must have dumped some ballast as she gained reverse speed, and they were climbing in a slope, like walking backwards up some stairs. A shell hurtled past beneath the open bomb bay door — it would surely have struck them had they not risen — its sharp high whistle rapidly lowering in pitch as it flew off into the night air.

A few hundred feet away, the looming forms of the other two Albtraums were closing in. Screeches and machine gun fire echoed in the distant air; the flock doing all it could to occupy the German aerocrafts.

Deryn scanned the sky until she spotted the black triangle shape of the acid bomb, sailing in an almost unassuming arc, carrying enough destruction to wipe a town off the face of the planet. For a moment she thought for sure it would miss, but it caught the tip of the Ragnarok right off its port stern, and ruptured in that dreadful yellow mist.

Like before, it was swift. It ate through the tail fins and rudders in scarcely more than five seconds, and started to spread forward like a malady consuming its patient.

The bomb bay erupted into cheers. By the time the Valkyrie had retreated back into the relative safety of her cloud, two of the Ragnarok's aft engines along with three of its cannons had been melted off.

Deryn did not want to think about the rest.

"Two Albtraums to go," Hemmingfeld said on the bridge. "Fine shot lads. Bomb bay, we'll make a homesick angel and try to overcut the one to our port bow, about eleven o'clock. Air guns, be ready for roaming targets."

"Aye, sir," answered Ross. Behind him, out the port window, there was a dull flash through the clouds.

It took Deryn half a second to realize what it was, but before she could yell out a warning, the Valkyrie gave a mighty lurch just as the boom of sound hit them. All of them staggered about like drunkards. One of the crew grabbed Deryn's arm, and she struggled to hold on to the nearest strut she could find. The massive crate of explosives shifted a little, but didn't budge from their lashings.

"We've been hit!" Deryn shouted once she got her footing, sprinting across the bomb bay, dodging people left and right. She pulled herself out of the port window easily, and saw, incredulously, that there had only been a single breach in the hull further towards the bow.

But there were more on the way, and another broadside of flashes. Those barking Germans must have decided it too much trouble to aim, so they were now firing in the general direction of the particular cloud the Valkyrie was hiding in. What was it the lady boffin said? What the Clankers lacked in finesse, they made up for with blanket ruination.

By a stroke of luck none of the shells struck them this time. The ballast boards burst open as more gallons gushed out in their thousands. They rose with unsteady jerks, as if being yanked by a leash, but at least they rose fast.

The klaxon blared. "Sailmakers portside, sailmakers!" someone was shouting.

"Bomb bay prepare for next drop!" bellowed Ross. Deryn ducked back inside, and rushed to help free the next massive crate for bombing. She swallowed to pop her ears — they'd begun to hurt.

At one point the Valkyrie went through that same rumble once more as the engines switched from reverse back to full speed ahead. Through the still-open bomb bay Deryn saw wide arcs of brightness cut across the clouds, the ship's own searchlights, their reflection enough to make her avert her eyes.

They broke out of the cloud like a great white leaping out of the waves. The mist that pervaded the bomb bay rushed away like low tide, and below them they saw the two Albtraums, rising slowly and still firing into the cloudy midnight sky, an endless barrage of cannon fire, the sound of it carrying and reverberating in the valley below until it became a single continuous thunder.

The closer Albtraum was perhaps half a mile off their port side, and they made for it with all the power of seven engines at their back. A swath of German search light caught them on their stern.

A formation of five aeroplanes had been engaging an unfortunate strafing glider a few hundred feet below them, and the colossal falcon, heavily outnumbered, dove into the same cloud they had just emerged from. The squadron wheeled around, signaling between themselves, and started to climb.

"Ware aeroplanes," Deryn shouted, pointing at them. Ross took note and said something into the speaking tube. There wasn't anything close by to give them cover; the lone glider had been chased off, and the Leviathan's flock of bats were fighting an unseen battle above the grounded airbeast.

The Valkyrie climbed a little more in response, but even with all her celerity, the squadron was gradually catching up. One of the planes spewed a spring of bullets from its machine gun, but they were still out of range.

With a start, Deryn saw that the bulk of the Albtraum was only a hundred feet ahead of them.

"Bombs ready!" shouted Ross. They were going very fast, and the Albtraum was struggling to rise and meet them, and struggling to outfly them as well. It was not an advantageous position for the German airship — they were hot on her tail, the Valkyrie's turns matching every one of the zepp's.

The dorsal cannons of the German ships could not point directly upwards, and they were close enough now that Deryn could make out the German airmen, frantically trying to increase the elevation of the guns. She saw the whiteness of their faces, and wondered if it was the face of men who saw their deaths approaching. The aeroplanes were trying desperately to reach them before they reached the zepp, but there was no chance of that happening.

The Albtraum's topside was fitted with machine gun posts, and they rattled out a final defiant reproach. The bomb bay crew ducked as some stray bullets found their way inside and ricocheted around.

And then they were upon her.

"Bombs away!" Ross roared.

The bombs had been parceled into smaller packets of explosives, and since it was a strafing run instead of a single concentrated attack, they dropped the packets instead of the whole crate — irregularly but rapidly, a torrent of explosives sprinkling onto the Albtraum's back as snowflakes atop a roof.

The next minute passed in a frenzy; snatch the next packet, run to the bomb bay door, throw it down, hope it hits, repeat. The shower of bullets around them was intermittent yet unending, though getting weaker as flowers of flame continued to bloom below. Deryn thought she could feel some welcome heat snake up from below, but the bitter cold rush of movement snatched it away before she could be sure.

"Hold!" Ross shouted just before they overshot the zeppelin, and the last bombs hit squarely on its very bow. A moment to catch their breaths, before they all glanced back at their handiwork. A little more than half the crate had been emptied in this run, but most packets had found their intended target. This Albtraum wasn't quite blown through, unlike its less fortunate sibling, but it was properly aflame along its entire topside, alumiron skeleton twisting and starting to melt.

It was listing badly. Fighting zeppelins was a tricky business since hydrium didn't burn, but in Deryn's experience — or rather, in the experience of the Manual of Aeronautics — no airship, beast or machine, could survive with all their dorsal gas bladders blown open. It was bound to go down eventually.

With a sickened lurch in her stomach, Deryn remembered the Manual listing an Albtraum class sky destroyer as having a hundred crew members. Since no one could've survived the acid bomb, and their first bombing target had already been obliterated, three hundred men, at least, would die tonight.

Just then, someone swore. Heads turned, more swearing. Deryn wheeled around.

One of the crew members sat slumped with his back leaning on the wall. His eyes were glassy above the small red hole the bullet made through his cheek. He must've been shot during the heat of battle, except nobody had noticed. He was from the Leviathan; his uniform told as much. Deryn thought his name was Andrews; she wasn't sure.

Three hundred and one.

Hemmingfeld's cold calm voice came through the speaking tube. "Well done bomb bay, she's done for for now. Air guns, prepare to engage planes behind us."

Numbly, Deryn went back to her work. She hadn't known the man, only seen his face from time to time in the mess or around the ship, but someone had known him. His Ma. His Da. Maybe he had a lass back home, or wee ones.

She was thankful for the aeroplanes, for their approach forced her to clear her mind, even though there was scarcely anything for the bomb bay to do except watch the planes get taken out one by one with air ballista bolts.

Three hundred and six.

The six ships sent out to scout at the beginning, the Harpyiens and the Kondors, were now returning from the far end of the valley with desperate haste. They must have seen what doom befell the Ragnarok and two of the Albtraums, so they were making for the one intact Albtraum to guard its flanks. The bombed Albtraum they ignored with shocking coldness, leaving it to drift ever downward towards the snow. Deryn thought someone must've taken over radio command, because the Ragnarok was already a smoking melted husk.

With the flocks keeping the planes and thopters busy, the Leviathan remained untouched, a lump of dark snow in the distance, the wreck of the first Albtraum not far from it.

"We're switching targets," Hemmingfeld said. "Bomb bay ready next drop."

The Valkyrie sped up again, aiming for a straggling Harpyien. They wove in and out of the clouds, so by the time the Germans realized which ship they were actually gunning for, there was nothing to offer challenge except machine guns on the poor zeppelin's back. Soon they were aligned directly above it.

It was the same bombing run. The Harpyien was outmatched in both speed and maneuverability, and by the time they had unloaded a third of a crate, the fire reached an engine and the zepp went up in a mighty explosion.

The updraft from the heat buoyed them up a hundred feet or so, and they turned, seeking their next target. The Valkyrie had hardly slowed down during the bombing run. Deryn poked her head out of the starboard window, squinting from the headwind. Though half her view was obstructed by the bulk of the ship, she saw that they were locked onto a Kondor.

The Germans must have seen the same, but the rest of them simply backed away. The Albtraum, that great big coward, was still avoiding them like the plague, even though its artillery was the only hope of stopping the Valkyrie.

They must be barking terrified of the acid, Deryn realized suddenly. If only they knew.

The chase lasted not five minutes; Deryn could hear the sound of machine guns getting louder, and then the whole ship shuddered when they made contact. The Valkyrie's bow was ossified — that's the boffin-word for bone — and it cut through the zeppelin like a hot knife through butter, crumpling alumiron skeleton and gasbags alike.

It felt better not being able to see the scene of carnage. In a corner of the bomb bay, the body of poor Andrews had been covered with a piece of white cloth, although red had seeped through around his face. Deryn closed her eyes and forced herself to breathe.

They left the Kondor devastated. The last Albtraum still kept a wide circle from them, and slowly the four remaining zeppelins rendezvoused around it. Whoever piloting the Valkyrie may be remarkable, but the element of surprise had run out. There was no longer an easy way to get at the united German group. Any attempt to charge in would surely result in the Valkyrie being overwhelmed.

Hemmingfeld gave the order to be ready to bomb again, so they pushed yet another crate of explosives close to the bomb bay doors, waiting for the ship to gain the upper hand. Deryn wagered there wasn't much ballast left for them to dump before it became unsafe, so their maneuvering room was limited. The battle felt oddly detached once there was no bombing to do, and they watched as aerocrafts tried and failed to pierce the Valkyrie's thick fabricated hull, only to be taken down one by one.

Evidently deciding that the wait wasn't worth it, the Valkyrie changed course and sailed towards the Leviathan. A small flock of bats still circled it, along with a small fleet of ornithopters attempting to clear them away. But as soon as the Valkyrie drew near, the Clanker aerocrafts fluttered back to the Albtraum as startled children to their mother.

Through the speaking tubes, Deryn could hear furious debating on the bridge. Hemmingfeld was yelling something about charging the enemy, and a muffled voice was arguing against him. The minutes dragged on; they tried everything to get the Albtraum to engage, but even with superior numbers, the Germans refused to fight.

And then the wind started to howl. The heavyset clouds above them began to move, and a beam of moonlight pierced the sky like a silver lance through the heart of darkness. And then the gap grew, and grew, until the lance was a pillar, and then half of the valley glowed under the brightness of the full moon.

The klaxon began to sound again. Ross drew in a sharp breath and cursed.

That was when Deryn saw it too. On a small icy hill a mile or so off their starboard stood a massive gun. Its elongated shadow under the moonlight made it seem even larger than it was, but there was no mistaking the distinctive form and the impossibly long barrel. The Krupp Himmelbrecher, "Skycrusher", the heaviest and most terrifying anti-airship gun ever to come from Clanker engineering. The Harpyiens must have been carrying the parts, and the German gun crew must have been assembling it under the cover of darkness, while they were still on a merry chase with the Albtraum. And now it was done aiming, and they were as good as sitting duck.

The Valkyrie was trying to rise, a heaviness in their feet. Then the gun spoke with that familiar orange flash, and a second later the entire ship rocked. Deryn felt herself getting thrown against the wall. Spitting out blood, she forced herself to open her eyes, but then a second tremor shook them, and this time when her head hit a pillar, her world turned black.