On the run in a strange world after pirates kill her parents, Elise plows into Dorothy Blainwick, a young and powerful witch with a monster inside her. Like fire and water, the two have to learn to get along as they try to escape the law, ancient ma...
Throwing open the Whim's rear hatch, Dorothy met a hail of wind that tangled her hair and made her squint. The clouds were dark and perilous, and she could hear the waves crashing below her. Once she reached the edge of the lightly railed deck, she grabbed the handles of the double-barreled machine gun that awaited her on a pivot. She despised weaponry but enjoyed the idea of her enemy tasting its own medicine. Squeezing the trigger in bursts, she issued, like streams of arcing fire, golden bullets into the sky. Easy enough.
She looked around herself. Behind her, she found a ladder that would take her to the top of the zeppelin. Deciding she had the time, she climbed it to get a full view of this oceanic world.
And there she first laid eyes on it. Ahead, in the westerly direction which they flew, the witch found the incredible shape of a single dark cloud, stretching across the ocean like a force of nature no man wished to meet. An impenetrable curtain of rain and fog, wind and lightning, storm and sea, it was the Wall Cloud. Dorothy knew now exactly what George Goblin intended to do.
Sliding back down the ladder, Dorothy got to her gun in time to see the enemy descending from the clouds behind her. Five. Where was the last one?
The Whim turned upwards again, and Dorothy had to throw her feet against the rails to keep herself from flipping overboard. Practically straddling her gun, she spotted a shadowy shape moving swiftly through a patch of clouds just below them. She would have wondered why George hadn't fired on it with their belly canons, if shouting like a berserker and firing the machine gun hadn't so suddenly consumed her.
She got in a good hit across its top as cannonballs sailed under her nose into the ocean. If the Whim had stayed level, she would have taken them in the chest. Not only didn't the Whim stay level, Dorothy hollered as it began to make a full loop through air. Before she knew it, she had her legs wrapped around her machine gun just to hold on. They had gone upside down. Swinging out her feet again, she managed to gain enough traction against the rails to take aim at the ship again, now rising out of the clouds level with them but going in the opposite direction. Blood in her head and growing dizzy, Dorothy somehow managed to unleash a full barrage on it.
BANG! She blasted out the back door and didn't stop until she had blown down the door to their bridge and gunned down their weaponsmaster and helmsman. Their ship immediately signaled yellow and retreated.
Suddenly the Whim swung down to its natural orientation. Like a spider, Dorothy leapt off the machine gun and back onto the deck. Her legs felt warm after wrapping them around an active barrel, but not as warm as you would expect, which would be burned. Don't forget her magic stockings. BOOM! BOOM! She felt the tingling sensation all up and down her as the Whim's autocannons fired at the enemy below. Peeking, she saw another enemy vessel spiraling toward the ocean and yet another limp in retreat.
BANG! Part of the back deck exploded, sending Dorothy bouncing backward. The Whim shook as it endured several more shots from top-mounted enemy weapons. She heard screaming from inside, but she hadn't the time to think who it might be. The Whim began another hard upward turn to port, which, without the gun to brace her, sped Dorothy abruptly toward the railing. With a bound, she shot over it.
"Agh!"
Throwing out a hand, she managed to catch a rail before she plummeted into the ocean. She could hear their forward heater firing, making contact with the enemy vessel that had attempted to get above them. Sparks and wreckage tumbled down the side of the Whim from above, sizzling past Dorothy toward the water. Utilizing her core strength to the fullest, the witch managed to pull herself back aboard just as a bogey entered the airspace beneath them. The captain must have thought her straight out of hell when she managed to scuttle back to her gun against gravity and open fire. With a brutal spray, she decapitated the bridge crew. She laughed with such succulence it would have made your hair stand on end.
Around him, his crew couldn't believe their readings. Admiral Duval could. Slowly but surely, George Goblin and the crew of the Whim were about to destroy another six of their fleet. He should have expected it would come down to this from the start.
Bruised and beaten more times than once now, Dorothy staggered back into the Whim as soon as the last ship fell. The hallway looked intact, but when she made it to the bridge she felt and heard the whistling of wet wind. Several holes were blown in the viewing glass above them, and the deckwork had been dented inward from contact with a cannonball. Elise looked all right. John Denton had been wounded but remained at his station.
"What is it?"
The witch had asked when everyone remained quiet. Tyrio put down a half-spent fire extinguisher. Finally, Albbenaro spoke up.
"They're launching the rest of the fleet, including three heavy frigates," he said.
"The rest of the fleet? But, how many is that?"
"Ten."
Dorothy slumped against the wall. Elise looked around, but she didn't know what to do. Father Sergius looked on, resigned.
"Can I say it now? Can I say it now that TYRIO was RIGHT?"
Max Longbranch turned to face the bridge.
"Like, this is really brilliant stuff we've pulled off here. Really spectacular, legendary stuff. Not only have we gotten ourselves killed, but we've knocked off nine other crews, too. Wow I mean that's great. Those barrel rolls are going to go down in history. Our names are gonna be on ALL the charter tours. Pieces of this ship are gonna be in ALL the museums. And you know what? That's perfect. Isn't that exactly what we signed on for? To put our lives on the line for the freedom of some stupid witch and her friend? Pfft. Obviously. Great knowing you all. And long live George Goblin!"
"How close are they, Albbenaro?" asked George after a short passage of time.
"Close, sir," replied his pilot.
"Then let's write a history that no coward will believe. Take us right down their throat."
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