THE AIR SMELLED SO STRONGLY of the merlons’ rank body odor that Vic could barely draw a breath without gagging. Even cafeteria fish sticks smelled better than this.
In the harbor, another guardian galley circled around to pummel the kraken. From the damaged pavilion on the monster’s head, the remaining merlon general shouted commands trying to direct the massacre. The squidlike beast smashed together two small fishing dinghies. Merlon invaders splashed toward shore carrying their scallop-edged scimitars and sea-urchin clubs. The Elantyan guard forces and citizens armed with makeshift weapons rushed down to the harbor to defend the island.
With a groan, Vic slapped his forehead. “Why couldn’t I have thought of this before Sharif flew away? It would work, I know it!”
Lyssandra looked at him. “What is it, Viccus? Do you have an idea?”
“Yup. A way to use those mirrormills you showed us. But we need to get into the air. I don’t suppose Elantya has an air force — balloons or something?”
“No.” The girl raised her eyebrows. “But we do have pedal-gliders.”
“That’s right!” Vic wanted to give her a hug. “Can you fly one? Do they seat two people?”
“Of course, and of course.”
Tiaret ran up, panting, her clothes and hair in disarray from fighting the merlons that climbed up onto the docks. Oddly, she was grinning. “Fifteen so far! The merlons have learned to stay away from me — which means I must now run after them.”
“Viccus and I are going to attack from the sky.”
Tiaret accepted the comment without question. “And I will continue the fight on the ground.” The wiry girl from Afirik swung her teaching staff with a swish, and droplets of merlon blood and slime flew off.
BY NOW MORNING’S WATERY light lit the island. From the air above the harbor, the carnage looked even worse than Vic had imagined.
Lyssandra easily piloted the small, lightweight craft. The fluttering glider did not feel stable or safe, but riding it was certainly exciting. Breezes through the open framework rustled the fabric sides and flaps. Apparently, even Elantyan children played with the little vehicles.
“You see, we already know the merlons don’t like bright light,” he explained. “And I remembered you telling Gwen how your mirrormills magically store the power of sunshine in special battery jars. So why not —”
Still pedaling the glider over the mayhem in the harbor, Lyssandra kept her attention on flying. “Now I understand.” She nodded. “I thought it strange when you asked for the luminous jars from the mirrormills.”
He reached down to untie the first of several cloth-wrapped pouches dangling from a strut in the flying contraption’s framework. “Take us over target number one!”
Lyssandra navigated them above a group of twenty merlons that had moved in their soft-jointed gait onto the gravelly shore. Seeing them flying high overhead, the merlons raised their clawed hands and angrily swung scallop-edged scimitars at the unreachable opponent.
“Ready? Bombs away!” Vic undid the cord and, careful not to touch the hot glassy surface of the storage jar, released a silvery-white cylinder over the merlon soldiers. “These guys don’t know what’s coming.”
The undersea invaders looked up at the tumbling luminous jar. When the mirrorglass cylinder struck the rocks, it burst in a blaze of light and hot crackling fire. Sparks and sunshine flowed out in a wave that left the merlons smoking, blistered and senseless. Blinded, the aquatic attackers ran into each other searching for relief and finally crashed into the seawater, producing bubbles and hot steam.
Lyssandra laughed in delight. “The magic of sunshine!”
Vic blinked the bright spots from his eyes. “You’re not kidding.”
Lyssandra pumped the glider’s pedals. From far below, they could hear the cheers of Elantyan fighters who had seen the dazzling blast. “Hurry, Viccus. We have five more jars.”
He unleashed three more sunshine bombs in quick succession upon merlons who emerged onto the shore. The scaly army had no defense against the blasts of light and sunshine, and many of them staggered back into the cool water, burned and defeated.
Next, Lyssandra guided the small aircraft out over the battle kraken itself. “I’m going to use the last two at once,” Vic shouted above the noise from below. Then, switching to a fake Jamaican accent, he said, “Time to fry some calamari, mon!” He let go of the remaining pair of luminous jars, dropping them onto the barnacled back of the sea monster.
The bright flashes sent the creature into a thrashing fury. Enraged, its back smoking from large burns, the kraken collided with another entire dock, then sank a newly painted yacht. Elantyans fled from the deadly tentacles.
“That’s all folks!” Vic wished he had more of the sunshine bombs. There hadn’t been enough to finish the job. Lyssandra turned the glider about and headed back toward the city.
The battle kraken remained unstoppable.