33 - Showing His Colors
Courage is fear holding on a minute longer. - General George S. Patton
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As soon as everyone's eyes stopped boring into the back of his head, Van pulled Lucy into an unobserved corner behind the rear stair of the ship. Even amid the blast of cannon fire and shouts of crew (and he really ought to be out there, helping the crew not die), all he could focus on was her. "Are you all right?"
"You saved my brother's life," Lucy blurted out. Her eyes shone like sunlight on seawater.
"Hell with your brother, I'm asking about you."
But she went on talking. "Van, the dragon. Is he safe? Can we trust him? Where's Arrow?"
"Lucy."
"And that flying horse. Where did you—"
"Lucy."
"—find him? I've never seen—"
"Lucy."
"—a flying horse. Are they allies to—"
Van swooped down and kissed her soundly. She squeaked, then relaxed against him with gratifying warmth. When she drew back, still shining-eyed but thankfully silent, he studied her from head to foot, unable to keep the concern out of his voice. "Are you all right?" he said again.
Her face fell, and for a moment his heart stopped beating as he wondered what injuries he couldn't see. But she said, "We're losing. We don't have enough fire power to do more than distract them from landing and attacking the castle."
"Fire power," he repeated, and realization dawned. What this battle needed was air support. He took her hand and towed her out from the corner.
Circling in the air above the enemy ships were Quill and Arrow. Whenever they found an opening, they streaked downward to attack an unprotected head or back. Maddoken was happily snapping up Calormene shipmen faster than his smallish reptilian body should have been able to consume them. Van put his fingers to his lips and whistled loudly.
And surprisingly, the first to respond was the dragon. He swung around, and as he wheeled toward The Phoenix, Maddoken spat a long whoosh of flame, as if in afterthought, at the mast of the closest Calormene ship. The corsair burst into blazes. Crew aboard The Phoenix and the Selbarani ships cheered. "More fun than I've had in two hundred yearsssss!" the dragon crowed.
Van leaped onto the starboard rail and pulled Lucy up after him. "Could use a ride!" he called.
Maddoken dove toward them, claws outstretched, with perhaps the most frightening grin Van had ever seen. Lucy yelped.
"Not on my watch, he doesn't," came Arrow's voice. The griffin whooshed past, and with his forelegs, swept Lucy from Vandelar's arms so fast, Van stared after them with dismay.
Arrow tossed Lucy into the air, and Van's heart stopped for the second time in ten minutes. Lucy dove gracefully through the air, like a bird, and landed neatly on the griffin's back as if she'd planned it her entire life. Van started breathing again. "Going to kill them both," he muttered, his gaze locked on the pair.
"Greetingsssss," Maddoken said cheerfully, scooping him up as he sailed past the railing. He drew back a foreleg to push Van onto his back.
"Awfully jolly about this, aren't you?" Van said peevishly.
"A healthy dossssse of food'll do that," said the dragon.
"Are you willing to help us finish this?"
"Prossssspect of more food? Anything you sssssay."
"How much flame have you got left?"
The dragon's laughter vibrated, deep and disturbing, through his body. "I'm full up. Why do you think we eat ssssso much? Food and fuel!" As gleeful as a child with a new trinket, the beast wheeled upward, over the mast of The Phoenix, and down upon the Calormene ship on its other side.
Below, Van saw Edmund, already swinging the ship for the harbor. Turning back to the Calormene corsair below, he shouted, "Let them have it!"
Maddoken drew an enormous breath and engulfed the second corsair in flame. Then he folded his wings and plummeted like a stone, dodging as the attacking sailors catapulted anything they could lay hands on at his head. Van sucked his stomach back down and held onto the yoke for dear life. The dragon landed on the burning deck with as much unconcern as a child splashing in puddles. Snap-snap-snap, he gulped down three sailors. Poof-poof, he blew fireballs at the enemy crew.
Great landsliding Underland, what am I doing? Van thought madly. What would this wild beast do when there was no one left to eat? Would he turn on Van? The Phoenix? Lucy?
A lucky arrow sped past the dragon's head and grazed the edge of its missing eye socket. Maddoken gave the first shriek of agony, a horrifying sound like steel rending against steel, and reared back so that Van almost lost his seat. Grimly, he clutched the yoke handles again. Maddoken was a devastating force, true—but his aim was off because of that missing eye, as was his ability to see an attack from that side. "I'd be more help with something to shoot at them, you know!"
The pain-maddened dragon seized a Calormene sailor just aiming a bow and arrow at them, and scooped the whole works, man and all, toward Van. The Calormene teetered on the shoulder of the dragon's flapping wing with a look of stunned horror, but when he noticed his proximity to the dragon's head, it was all business. The man came at Maddoken's already-injured eye with a look of hatred.
Van launched himself off his perch at the Calormene, not even realizing what he was doing until he was sliding down Maddoken's shoulder into the front crook of his wing. Van jerked his sai from their sheaths, and on the upswing of Maddoken's wing, as it swept close to his head, he leapt at the Calormene, sai first, and plunged them home.
The Calormene tumbled away, bow, arrows and all, and Van followed. He stopped short as Maddoken caught him with his front claws. Swinging by his feet, Van stuffed his sai back where they belonged—sort of—and screamed, "A sling! A crossbow! Anything! Work with me!"
"Take your pick," the dragon snarled, and dangled him over a row of Calormenes trying again to shoot for Maddoken's eyes.
Van swung past a Calormene aiming a repeating crossbow at the dragon, and tore it from the man's hands. "Thank you!" He rounded the weapon at the row—aim, shoot, reload, aim, shoot, reload—then smashed it in the last man's face when it ran empty. He dropped it. "Any other ideas?"
But the ship was truly burning now, and Maddoken lifted him onto his perch again. They soared into the air. "Why don't I be the weapon, and you do the aiming?" the dragon said waspishly.
Van gripped the yoke handles as they directed themselves at the third Calormene ship. "Taken under advisement," he panted.
Arrow and Quill swooped in to flank them. A ball of flame catapulted past them from the ship's deck. Van gave a shout and ducked.
"Oil potsssss," the dragon sneered. "Amateursssss." He inhaled a deep breath as they approached the ship.
Then Van saw the gun turret on its front, spinning toward them. Not again. He leaned right, and the dragon angled with him, sensing the shift in balance.
A crossbow bolt whizzed past them from behind and struck the turret man square in the chest. The Calormene crumpled.
Arrow and Lucy pelted past, dodging a volley of fiery oil pots. "Get back!" Van shouted. "Go help Edmund!"
But she, Arrow, and Quill were already on to the last Calormene ship. The flying horse swooped low and dragged his hoof along the hull of the ship. Water sprang forth from the boards, and somewhere in the back of his mind, Van remembered a musty history lesson that the flying horses were able to strike springs with their hooves. Good for you, he thought with fierce approval for the timid beast. Sink that thing to the bottom of the ocean.
He leaned forward and slapped the dragon's neck. Maddoken blasted the sail with a spray of flame, spot on, and it went up like kindling. Van heard distant cheers from the allied ships below, and a startling warmth filled his chest. Cheering. For him. A scoundrel if ever there was one, riding an unpredictable juggernaut that might eat them next.
Then he saw the Witch's ship.
From thin air it materialized, right in the bay. Along the bow was a bright ring of flame. At first, Van thought it already afire, but he realized a line of catapults had been loaded with burning oil pots ... all of them aimed at The Phoenix, still headed for the pier. "Shield The Phoenix!" Van screamed, leaning hard right.
The dragon swayed with him and soared over The Phoenix just as a volley of oil pots sailed through the air. Van swore loudly and ducked as the missiles smashed against the dragon's fireproof body and outspread wings. Some of the burning oil sprayed Van's coat, and he was suddenly very glad to be wearing it. He swiped the flame out. "They'll reload! Another pass!"
But they were too late. Another row of catapults appeared behind the spent first row, already loaded, and they launched their ammunition into the air. Van watched in horror as the pots flew through the air and pelted The Phoenix. The ship roared into flame, instantly engulfed. Van's jaw dropped. I thought it was invincible.
Far below, he saw sailors leaping off the ship into the water. Among them was Edmund, carrying a long spear.
The Witch's wand.
What are you doing! Van wanted to shout, but his captain was swimming for shore as fast as he could go.
Van turned Maddoken back to the Witch's ship. The dragon roared, hesitated, clearly not wanting to approach his former prison. "Now's your chance to pay her back!" Van hollered. "Keep that ship from docking!"
Behind the second row of catapults, a row of women in purple appeared. The Dreadken. He worried at once that their fear-spell would overtake him, but the expected terror didn't come. He remembered the feather around his neck and sent a mental thanks to Quill.
Maddoken had no such protection. The dragon roared and halted in midair. The loss of momentum upset Van's balance, and the two went spinning head over tail, down, down, down to the water. Van landed with a bone-shaking splash, and water closed over his head.