Her Balance | Nikolai x Reader x Darkling

~ Chapter 6 ~

He still didn't respond and the Hummingbird continued to speed up over the water

"All right, Squallers," commanded Sturmhond, "take us up. Sailors to wings, on my count."

"You can't possibly be serious," I said turning to Sturmhond who was smirking, "Sturmhond, I swear on the Saints-"

"What does he mean, 'take us up'?" yelled Alina. 

"Five!" shouted Sturmhond.

The crewmen started to move counterclockwise, pulling on the lines.

"Four!"

The Squallers spread their hands wider.

"Three!"

A boom lifted between the two masts, the sails gliding along its length.

"Two!"

"Heave!" cried the sailors. The Squallers lifted their arms in a massive swoop.

"One!" yelled Sturmhond.

"Sturmhond!" I yelled but it was too late. 

The sails billowed up and out, snapping into place high above the deck like two gigantic wings. The Hummingbird took flight. 

Sturmhond slowly interlocked his free hand with the one at my side and smiled at me. 

"Don't you close your eyes," said Sturmhond. "Keep your eyes on the sky."

I slowly opened them and looked around. We were surrounded by stars. Above us, white canvas stretched in two broad arcs, like the taut curves of an archer's bow. Below—far below—the moonlit waves rippled like the bright scales of a slow-moving serpent.

We were flying. Flying.

"This is impossible!" I mumbled.

"Sunbeam, let this be a life lesson," said Sturmhond, "When people say impossible, they usually mean improbable." 

With the moonlight gleaming off the lenses of his goggles and his greatcoat billowing around him, he looked like a complete madman. His hand and mine were still interlocked and I didn't dare let go. 

"Where did the Hummingbird come from?" I asked Sturmhond.

"I designed her. I built her. And I crashed a few prototypes," replied Sturmhond, "Have to break a few eggs to make an omelet."

I saw Mal lean over the lip of the cockpit, trying to get a better view of the gigantic guns positioned at the foremost points of the hulls.

"Those guns," he said. "They have multiple barrels."

"And they're gravity fed. No need to stop to reload. They fire two hundred rounds per minute."

"That's—"

"Impossible? The only problem is overheating, but it isn't so bad on this model. I have a Zemeni gunsmith trying to work out the flaws. Barbaric little bastards, but they know their way around a gun. The aft seats rotate so you can shoot from any angle."

"And fire down on the enemy," Mal shouted almost giddily. "If Ravka had a fleet of these—"

"Quite an advantage, no? But the First and Second Armies would have to work together."

"This is all we would have to do," I mumbled, "Unite the Armies, rather than expanding the Fold."

"You're finally seeing why I don't agree with the Darkling," said Sturmhond. 

I thought of what the Darkling had said to me so long ago. The age of Grisha power is coming to an end. His answer had been to turn the Fold into a weapon.