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"Because," said Bakari, pointing out the window, "it's just now coming over the palace wall."
CHAPTER 62.
UNDER FIRE.
THE FLYING SHIP THE De Vliegen approached the palace wall, leaving a trail of chaos on the streets of Maknar, where crowds wailed and scattered in terror at the sight of the ma.s.sive, dripping, barnacle-encrusted hull pa.s.sing overhead. George, at the helm, was frantically trying to learn how to pilot the ship. He was getting a feel for the steering, but having little luck controlling the alt.i.tude. He saw now, as the De Vliegen reached the palace compound, that it was too low. He felt a lurch and heard a grinding sound as the hull sc.r.a.ped the wall, knocking some stones into the courtyard below.
The crash of the stones drew the attention of the men in the courtyard, who shouted and pointed in alarm. Their shouts interrupted the heated argument between Glotz and Zarboff, who looked up at the flying ship, gaping in amazement. Zarboff's surprise turned to wrath when, by the light of moon and meteor, he saw heads poking over the ship's rail, looking down. With a roar of rage, Zarboff recognized his slave boys.
He whirled and, with spittle flying from his mouth, screamed an order to his soldiers. Immediately they raised their rifles and began firing at the ship. As muzzle fires flashed, the slave boys jumped away from the rail.
Bullets thunked into the ship, splintering the woodwork. George spun the wheel hard. The ship began to turn, but it was now below the top of the wall; unless George could gain alt.i.tude, they would be trapped inside the courtyard and eventually cut to pieces by the riflemen. Bullets struck the hull and whistled through the rigging, some puncturing the sails. George looked high overhead and had an idea.
"Take in the topsail!" he shouted up to James, who was crouching high up on a yardarm.
"Do what to the topsail?" James shouted back.
"Make it smaller!" shouted George.
James flew up to the highest sail and, as bullets zinged past him, began tr.i.m.m.i.n.g it. Slowly, ever so slowly, George felt the bow of the ship rising. As more bullets zinged past, he yelled commands to Slightly, Prentiss, Thomas, and the other boys, ordering them to pull in this sail, let out that one. The ship was rising more quickly now and moving with greater speed. George got it high enough that he felt reasonably safe from the bullets, though the occasional shot still came close. Using both rudder and sail, he put the ship into a gentle turn, such that it circled high above the palace. He a.s.sessed the damage; there was a good deal of splintered wood and a few tattered sails, but, incredibly, n.o.body had been hurt.
George wasn't sure what to do. He didn't know how long the ship would keep flying. He also didn't know where Peter was, or even if Peter was still alive. He had no idea how to go about trying to rescue Molly and her father from the hornet's nest of angry, shooting men below. He peered over the side: the soldiers had dragged a catapult onto a rampart and were busy setting a burning cauldron into its sling. They were going to try to burn the ship out of the sky!
We can't stay here, George thought. But Molly was down there somewhere. Lord Aster. Possibly Peter. How could he just fly away and leave them? But what choice did he have?
Waving urgently, Prentiss shouted at him from the bow. "To the right! To the RIGHT!" He and Thomas and Nibs had a large crate of nails, which they were hoisting onto the gunwale.
George looked down: the boys meant to bomb the catapult. He spun the wheel to port and steered directly over the rampart. The boys heaved the heavy box up and over the gunwale and let it drop. It fell directly onto the catapult, smashing it and hurling the cauldron of fire down the wall and into the courtyard, scattering the soldiers. The boys on the bow whooped in triumph.
George, allowing himself a brief smile, steered the ship back over the courtyard, still pondering a rescue attempt.
Maybea He jumped as a hand tapped his shoulder. He whirled and sawa "Peter!"
They had never been great friends, but in that moment they came very close to hugging each other, each stepping hesitantly forward before stopping and settling for a manly handshake.
"I know I asked for a ship," said Peter. "But thisa" He gestured at the flying vessel, grinning. "Well done, George!"
"Your wish is my command," said George, with a mock bow. His face became serious again as he asked, "What about Molly?"
"She's still in the dungeon, with her father and Bakari. I couldn't get them out. Aster demanded we leave them here, but of course we won't do that."
"I should say not!" said George.
Idiots, observed Tink, sitting on Peter's head.
"What did she say?" asked George.
"She says we need a rescue plan," said Peter, as a volley of gunshots rang out below.
"I agree," said George, ducking away from the gunwale.
"Peter!" The shout came from James, who was high up on the mast and had just spotted his friend. As Peter watched in delight, James flew down to him; the other boys quickly followed, flying to the quarterdeck.
"Peter!" shouted Prentiss. "We can fly!"
"So I see!" said Peter.
"Although I think it's wearing off," said Thomas, who had hit the deck a bit hard.
"No, it's not," said Ted. He jumped upward, then came right back down, landing on his rear. "Yes, it is," he amended.
The boys gathered around Peter and began to pepper him with questions about the rocket, the starstuff, and Ombra. He waved them off.
"There's no time," he said. "We need to get Molly out of the dungeon. The door's locked, and I've no idea who has the keys. Does anybody have any ideas?"
"What about that black powder, for the rocket?" said Prentiss. He pointed down at the powder wagon, still in the courtyard. "Could we use it to blow open the cell door?"
Peter, looking at the soldiers milling in the courtyard, shook his head. "We can't get near it," he said. "They'd cut us down." As he spoke, another volley of shots forced the boys to move away from the gunwale.
"I wish we had guns," said Thomas.
James frowned. He poked his head back over the gunwale.
"What about those?" he said. Cautiously, Peter leaned over the rail and looked where James was pointing. He smiled at James, and James smiled back. Then Peter stood up.
"George," he said, "do you know how to fire a cannon?"
CHAPTER 63.
THE GOLDEN MOON.
MOLLY'S FACE HURT from pressing against the cell bars as she strained to see what was going on in the confusion of the courtyard. Behind her, also looking out, were her father and Bakari. They didn't see much, other than soldiers shouting and firing their rifles at the sky. Every now and then they caught a glimpse of the flying ship, but usually it was too high overhead, clearly trying to stay out of range of the bullets.
The three prisoners speculated about the ship, concluding that it must have somehow become infused with starstuff. Leonard grew increasingly agitated as the ship sailed back and forth, a fat target for Zarboff's soldiers.
"I wish they'd just leave," he said. "They're going to get themselves killed."
Molly turned to her father. "Would you leave?"
Leonard smiled ruefully and shook his head. "No," he admitted. "I'd try to rescue you."
Molly nodded and turned back to the courtyard.
"Someone's coming," said Bakari. He looked down the corridor. "It's Peter!"
Molly and Leonard rushed to the cell door as Peter, with Tink on his head, trotted into view. Across the corridor, Hook, who'd been sitting in the shadows of his cell, rose to his feet.
"Peter," said Leonard, "what's happening?"
"No time to explain," said Peter. "You must lie on the floor, as far from the window and outside wall as possible. And by all means, cover your heads."
"But whata?" began Molly.
"Please, just get down!" said Peter.
Before Molly could speak again, he was gone.
King Zarboff the Third frowned at the meteor-streaked sky. Several minutes earlier the flying ship had stopped circling the palace and flown off on a straight course; it was no longer visible from inside the courtyard wall. Zarboff went over to Viktor Glotz, who was staring intently at the sky. Minutes ago the two men had been arguing heatedly over the apparent failure of the rocket, but now their anger at each other was replaced by shared concern about the strange ship. They had no doubt that starstuff was involved, but how had the boys gotten hold of it? And where were they now?
A soldier shouted something from one of the ramparts; he was pointing to something in the distance.
"The ship is coming back," said Zarboff. He barked a command in the Rundoon language; the soldiers readied their rifles. Zarboff turned to Glotz, his expression a mixture of anger and puzzlement.
"What do they want?" he said. "Why do they return?"
Glotz had been thinking about that. Now, as Zarboff asked the question, the answer came to him.
"The Starcatchers in the dungeon!" he said. "They're trying to free them!"
"The Starcatchers will die before they escape my kingdom," snarled Zarboff. He barked another order. A half dozen soldiers started running toward the dungeon. As they did, a chorus of shouts arose in the courtyard, and a hundred fingers pointed toward the sky.
The flying ship was swooping down toward them under full sail.
"We're a minute away!" shouted George, peering ahead at the palace courtyard. He saw muzzle flashes; the soldiers were already shooting. "Slightly, are you ready?"
"Almost!" came the reply from below, where Slightly, Nibs, Curly, and the twins were frantically loading the fourth and last starboard cannon. The boys had been very luckya"the shot, powder, fuses, and matches had all been stored close by the cannons. George, whose family kept an antique cannon at their country estate and fired it on ceremonial occasions, had raced below and hastily demonstrated the loading process on the first cannon; Slightly and the others had done the rest. George prayed they had done it righta"cannons, even when properly loaded, had been known to explode.
George looked aloft, where James and Prentiss were working from the topsail yardarm. They had let the topsail out fully; the force of the wind on it was what was pressing the De Vliegen's bow downward, causing the ship to descend. It would be James and Prentiss's job to take the sail in when it was time to make the ship rise and escape. They were vulnerable to rifle fire up there, but there was no other way. Thomas and Tubby Ted stood by George, ready to pull in or let out sail as needed.
George looked forward again. He had judged the angle of descent well; the ship would just clear the compound wall on its dive into the courtyard. The rifle fire was increasing, the bullets again slamming into the ship's hull.
"Take what cover you can!" shouted George. "We're going in!"
They pa.s.sed over the wall. The rifle fire was constant. George heard a high-pitched scream and saw Thomas crumple to the deck, holding his leg. He felt a thud in his left arm, as though somebody had punched him; he looked down and saw blood. A second later, he felt the searing pain. Using his right hand, he spun the ship's wheel to the right, then left again, angling the ship so that it would run parallel to the ma.s.sive dungeon building, which would be off the starboard side. The ship was still descending; its keel was now no more than twenty feet above the courtyard itself. Soldiers ran behind, firing upward at the ship.
The dungeon was just ahead; George saw the row of barred cell windows along the bottom of the wall. Peter had told him Molly was in the fourth cell from the near end. He hoped the cannons were aimed low enough. His arm was throbbing intensely now.
"James!" he shouted, "a bit less topsail!" He needed to stop the ship's descent before it hit the ground. As James and Prentiss worked above, George returned his attention to the dungeon, now almost alongside.
"Slightly!" he shouted. "Ready on the forward cannon!"
"Ready!" came the shout back, over the sound of the rifle fire.
George watched the wall, trying to judge when the cannon would be lined up with the fourth cell window. A few more feeta "Fire one!" he shouted.
Molly, lying on the cell floor, heard the cannon's boom. It was louder and deeper than the crack-crack-crack of the rifles. Then she heard a resounding crash as the cannonball struck the dungeon wall near the cell. A cloud of dust filled the corridor. She struggled to her feet. Her father was already at the cell window.
"They're firing the cannons at the dungeon!" he shouted. "They're trying toa""
He was interrupted by the shout of "Fire two!" and another huge boom as a second cannonball slammed into the dungeon wall directly outside their cell, hurling all three occupants to the ground in a hail of flying stone. Coughing and choking in the thick dust, their ears ringing, the three struggled back to their feet. Blood poured from Leonard's chin, where he'd been cut by a shard of masonry, but they were otherwise unhurt. Their relief lasted only a few seconds, however; there were shouts coming their way and now soldiers in the corridor. One of them produced a ring of keys and began to open the cell door. Behind him, the others drew their swords, and the looks on their faces told Molly the frightening truth: they mean to kill us.
"Ready on three!" shouted George. The first shot had gone too early, striking the cell next to Molly's. But the second had been right on target, blasting big chunks of stone out of the wall. A third ball in the same spot should poke a hole through it.
"Fire three!" he shouted.
The third cannonball blasted through the dungeon wall just as the soldiers entered the cell. Molly, Leonard, and Bakari, having heard George give the order to fire, dropped to the floor, but the soldiers ran head-on into a hail of stone fragments that knocked them over backward, some of them screaming in pain. The ball shot across the corridor and knocked the door to Hook's cell off its hinges, very nearly decapitating the crouching Hook himself.
Molly, disoriented by the dust and the noise, felt her father's hands pulling her to her feet. Over the ringing in her ears she dimly heard a familiar voice shouting her namea Peter!
He was extending his hand through the jagged hole in the wall left by the cannonball.
"This way!" he shouted. "Hurry!"
Leonard pushed Molly through the hole, then Bakari; then he climbed through himself. The three of them, turned ghost white by the dust, stood with Peter by the dungeon wall. The action in the courtyard had moved on, following the flying ship, which was traveling away from the dungeon. Its stern loomed against the meteor sky as rifle-wielding soldiers ran after it. Molly could make out George at the helm, shouting to the other boys, who were working on sails and ropes as bullets whistled around them. For the moment, n.o.body seemed to notice Peter and the three escaped prisoners in the shadow of the dungeon.
"Now what?" Leonard asked Peter.
"George is going to turn the ship and bring it back this way," said Peter. "They'll lower a rope. I might be able to fly Molly up to it, but I doubt that I can lift you or Bakari."
You can't lift her either, observed Tink, who was perched in Peter's hair. She's a cow.
"Tink!" reprimanded Peter, glancing at Leonard. But Leonard's attention was focused on the ship. "Let's hope George gets back here before anybody notices us," he said.
He had barely gotten those words out when they heard angry shouts behind them. They turned to see a soldier, his sword drawn, coming through the hole in the wall. And there were others right behind him.
"Loosen that rope, Ted," shouted George. "No, not that one. That one. James! After we tack, give us more topsail so we can get down and pick them up. Ready about!"
George spun the wheel hard to the left, using only his right arm. His left arm was useless and throbbing with pain. The ship began to turn; below, the soldiers scurried to get better shooting positions. Fortunately, they were miserable marksmen; they also appeared to be running low on ammunition. The shots were coming less frequently. As the ship came around, George peered ahead and found the dungeon wall, the place where Peter was to wait with Molly, her father, and Bakari. His heart jumped when he caught sight of the four figures near the dark wall. Then he saw other figures with thema"soldiers.
This isn't good, he thought.
"More topsail, James!" he called. "Let's take her down!"
"Stay behind me, Molly!" said Leonard, putting himself between his daughter and the tips of the soldiers' swords.
Seven soldiers had come through the wall, four of them bleeding from the cannonball blast, all of them very angry. They were advancing in a semicircle toward Molly, Peter, Leonard, and Bakari.