The Wonderground

27 - The Silver Eagles

Jack heard the screeching first, followed by a uniform rhythmic beating. He scanned the horizon and spied a flock of enormous birds of prey approaching from the East. Armoured men and women were riding on their backs, their winged helmets glinting in the sunlight. Amelia counted twenty of them.

The birds were magnificent. Silver Eagles. Leading the group was Clavis Majstar alongside a determined looking man with fiery ginger hair that poured over his shoulders. "It is time," yelled Majstar over the buffeting wind.

Squadron Leader Rufus Quinn raised his right arm and clenched his fist as a signal to the rest of the riders. They nosedived as a group, following his lead.

Quinn's eagle was named Battler and she gave a piercing shriek as she sliced through the clouds. The V formation split into two separate teams, one rising towards the Ephemera whilst the second group headed for the crumbling Quarter Tower.

Majstar led his band of nine eagle riders and bulleted upwards. He tugged at the neck feathers of his eagle, Audax, who squawked a short retort. The birds scrambled from their formation to engage with the army of bats that filled the sky around the airship. They were outnumbered two to one.

Quinn's team arrowed downwards and performed a dizzying, spiralling manoeuvre as they coiled around the Monument walkway to confront the Sky Rats that were swarming along its length.

"They're here!" yelled Rose with relief as the three children and remaining Council members struggled in the direction of the island. They were keeping ahead of the beetles but cannon fire from the Ephemera had damaged the bridge and their route was littered with demolished stonework. The bats scattered as the Silver Eagles engaged the Sky Rats.

Quinn's unit was distracting the bats sufficiently to allow the children to make progress along the Monument walkway with the Council members. Battler tore after a bat with two passengers and clattered into the side of the hairy beast, knocking one of the Sky Rats from his saddle and sending him tumbling through the air. The eagle wrapped its talons around the goggles protecting the bat's eyes and wrestled them from its head. The bat howled in agony at the bright sunlight and unseated the second Sky Rat. Disorientated, it flapped wildly through the air and crashed onto the walkway, skidding on the stone and collapsing in a heap, cocooning itself with its wings.

A second bat approached at frantic speed. Its rider leapt from her stirrups into the air. She raised her arms and a pair of 'wings' extended from her ribs to her wrists. The Sky Rat glided in a corkscrew motion and crashed into Quinn's chest plate, sending him tumbling backwards over Battler's hind quarters. Quinn held his breath as he slammed into the water and lost consciousness.

When he came round a few seconds later, he expected to be underwater and sinking from the weight of his armour. He was surprised to find himself flat on his back, in mid-air, staring skywards through his soaking wet hair at the battle raging above him. He swept his red curls from his eyes and stood. He was perched on the end of a gigantic trunk. Pumilio was hoisting him upwards away from the water. Battler circled beyond the tip of the trunk and the bird chirped with joy to be reunited with his master. Quinn dove forward, sliding off the end of the trunk and landing squarely between the wings of his trusty friend. Pumilio trumpeted a short blast of support to the commander as Quinn and Battler soared to re-join the fight.

***

Evie Wister stood on the parapet of the windmill behind Loxo's left ear. She scoured the sky through her binoculars and her lips moved noiselessly as she counted. "The Silver Eagles are hopelessly outnumbered. There must be fifty bats," she called through the open window to four assistants. They were hunched over in the tiny, nauseatingly humid, loft space of the building, straining against a nautical capstan, slowly circling clockwise. The mechanism hidden in the belly of the cylindrical tower squealed from years of inactivity. The external sails began to fold up neatly and collapse within the crown of the tower. Evie swivelled to check the sails on the other windmill. It was a relief that the devices were working. So far. They had been many years in the making and had never been tested. Built in secret, Evie had hoped they would never have to be used. And they never had. Until today. The Quarter Council needed them. The villagers needed them. She would not allow what happened to Cyclo to happen again today. It was time to fight back.

"Almost there!" she shouted in encouragement.

The collapsing wooden ribs of the two sets of sails began to twist and rearrange their shapes. The struts separated and recombined on the apex of each tower with additional wooden sections that emerged through gaps in the windmill's domed roofs. Evie smiled as two new daunting structures burst from the tops of the windmills. The wooden contraptions stretched backwards over the elephant's neck. Identical platforms extended to the rears of the windmills and cradled two semi-circular buckets that had formed at the end of the equipment's long arms.

Catapults.

Villagers were constructing two scaffolding towers with pieces ferried from within the windmills. The rigs comprised pulley systems that were already conveying bundles from the ground to the buckets. Evie treaded carefully along the high platform to meet the first of the sacks. She untied the rope and removed a small, cylindrical, ceramic container, the size of her fist. A fuse, the length of her forearm, sprouted from one end of the canister. Her teenage assistant, Belinda, joined her on the gantry.

"What are they?" asked the young girl innocently.

"Sky-shaking Thunder," replied Evie determinedly. "It is time for a fireworks display." She slid the canister smoothly into a wooden holster within the bucket of the catapult. There was space for a dozen more and she delved into the bag for another. Soon, thirteen containers were positioned snugly within the bucket space. Evie carefully smoothed the fuses down the front of the carrier to allow the tips to dangle into a shallow trough. She waited patiently for the next bundle to arrive from the ground. It was a single pouch filled with gunpowder. She delicately poured the contents into the trough and buried each fuse.

They were ready.