18 18 As the sun sank into the Western Cloudwall, Jace tried to keep the Fair-Weather Friend away from the oncoming swarm of skycraft, which included the three large vessels, along with seven lifeboats. The plan to escape the legion by skycraft looked worse and worse as the persistent armada cut off any attempt to double back, herding them away from the Brink and toward the dead end of the Eastern Cloudwall.
From what Cole could see, the skycraft mostly contained uniformed legionnaires, with raiders at the controls and also manning some of the weapons on the larger vessels. The pursuing skycraft moved with ruthless coordination, climbing when they rose, dropping when they dived, crowding them toward a corner with no escape.
Cole and the others had checked the castles they could reach ahead of the other skycraft. One had been crafted out of black metal and looked like a certain death trap. Another had crumbled to ruins, offering scant cover. A third was made of crystal, again leaving nowhere to hide. With the skycraft hounding them relentlessly, there was no time to plan. They could only flee and pray for darkness.
The Fair-Weather Friend swerved farther away from the Brink and began to shudder. It dropped jerkily, leaning hard to the right. Jace curved the little craft back toward the distant Brink. “If we go any farther out, we’ll fall.”
Cole looked back at where the sun had disappeared behind the Western Cloudwall. That side of the sky remained bright red and orange. It would still be close to an hour before the true darkness of night. He glanced at the other skycraft drawing nearer, leaving no room for evasion.
“They’ve got us,” Cole said. “We don’t have enough room to run until it gets dark. We have to try to break through them.”
Jace shook his head. “If we charge between them, they’ll just close in from all sides. We’ll get swarmed. They have grappling hooks and plenty of weapons. We don’t stand a chance of getting past them.”
“He’s right,” Twitch said, licking his lips. “Avoiding risk is my specialty. Charging through them won’t work.”
The Eastern Cloudwall loomed closer than ever. Impenetrably dark and unnaturally flat, the cloudbank stretched high and low, left and right. Cole squeezed his bow. None of the other skycraft were close enough to hit with an arrow yet, but the nearest weren’t out of range by much. “We’ve got maybe ten more minutes of running room.”
“Twitch,” Jace said. “What else can we try?”
“They want Mira,” Twitch said, tapping his fingers rapidly against his knee. “Maybe we can bluff. If we threaten to fly into the cloudwall, they might back off.”
“Try to stall them until it gets dark?” Mira asked.
“It’s worth a shot,” Jace said. “Unless anybody has another idea.”
Cole could see no other solution. If they tried to fly through their pursuers, they wouldn’t succeed. If they tried to fight, it would be even worse. The only option was to keep flying toward the cloudwall.
“What if they call our bluff?” Cole worried.
Jace frowned. “We’ll have no escape. If they ignore the bluff, and we don’t fly into the cloudwall, they’ll swoop in and take us in seconds.”
“It’s a pretty weak option if we’re not willing to follow through,” Twitch said.
“If we fly into the cloudwall, we’ll be killed,” Cole said. “At least if they capture us, we’ll have a chance to live.”
“I might live,” Mira said. “For a while. As a prisoner. They’ll want to question me—try to confirm what I know and who I’ve told. You guys are runaway slaves. Jace hurt some soldiers. Cole shot an officer. You all helped me. They know I could have shared my secret. They’ll execute you.”
“We don’t know that going into the cloudwall will kill us,” Twitch said slowly. “We just know that nobody has returned.”
“Now you’re talking crazy,” Jace said.
“Am I?” Twitch replied, tapping his knuckles together. “They won’t follow us in there. We could just go in a little, barely out of sight. My instincts feel better about that than letting them have us.”
“We bluff first, though,” Cole clarified.
“Of course,” Mira said. “But if they keep coming anyway, we take cover in the cloudwall. And if we can’t get back out, we try to survive it.”
Jace chuckled bitterly. “If you’re going to die, you might as well be doing something really, really stupid.”
Cole peered over the side of the lifeboat at the infinite drop. None of them had parachutes—there hadn’t been time to grab them. He gazed ahead at the imposing cloud-wall. What dangers was it hiding? Would it grind them to atoms? Did it house deadly monsters? Or was there some other explanation for why people never returned? Could it be a one-way portal to some other place?
As the cloudwall drew near, the other skycraft closed in. Cole kept his bow ready. The Vulture was probably within range now, as were two of the lifeboats. But many of the legionnaires had bows. If everyone started shooting, Cole doubted whether he and his friends would survive.
Mira stood up. “Back away from us!” she shouted. “Leave us alone or we’ll enter the cloudwall!”
A man on the Vulture raised his voice to answer. He had gray hair and a prominent nose. “We would rather take you alive, child, but we can’t help it if you destroy yourself. Do what you must.”
“Take us in,” Mira muttered. “Hurry.”
“You sure?” Jace whispered back. “Even if they kill the rest of us, you might still live.”
“I’m not so sure,” Mira said. “I’ll take my chances with the cloudwall. Don’t let them get too close. Go for it.”
Fingers tight on his bow, Cole glanced over at the cloudwall. It was less than a minute away. The closer they got to the foggy barrier, the clearer it became that the wall wasn’t perfectly flat—some indistinct mistiness on the surface caught the glow of the sunset. Did that mean there might be a hazy space before the true cloudwall began, a place where they could hide?
“Don’t be fools!” the man from the Vulture cried. “You don’t want to suffer a horrible death in that darkness. Mira, if you come to me, I will spare the three slaves who aided you.”
“I don’t believe you,” Mira yelled back.
“I am Commander Rainier, highest-ranked officer of the legion,” the man replied loudly. “It is well within my power to make this deal. I swear by my office and by my good name, before all witnesses present, that your three companions will be returned to their master unharmed if you end this folly and turn yourself in.”
Arms hugging her chest, Mira glanced down at the others.
“Don’t give in for me,” Jace said, still guiding the lifeboat at full speed toward the cloudwall.
“Me either,” Cole said, unsure whether he fully meant it.
“Up to you,” Twitch said.
Mira scrunched her eyebrows and stared down. “I’m willing to chance it, but it’s not fair to force you three into this.”
“He’s pulling your strings,” Jace said. “Don’t let him use us against you. If you give up because of me, I swear I’ll jump. Plus, he could be lying. Who knows? Maybe we’ll survive the cloudwall. Forget about us. Do what you want to do.”
“Stop them!” Commander Rainier roared. “Stop them at all costs!”
Grappling hooks came flying through the air, three from the Vulture, one from a lifeboat. One grapnel missed. Jace kicked another that would have landed in the stern, knocking it away. Two fell inside the lifeboat and pulled tight against the side, instantly slowing them and causing them to turn.
Dropping his bow and drawing his Jumping Sword, Cole severed one of the lines attached to the grapnel. Mira cut the other one.
All the vessels converged at top speed. More grappling hooks came flying. Cole batted one out of the air with his sword. Twitch nimbly caught another and tossed it aside. A few fell short. When one caught hold of the lifeboat again, Mira promptly slashed the line.
“Fools!” Commander Rainier shouted.
Glancing over his shoulder, Cole saw the murky surface of the cloudwall perhaps five seconds away. Was this how he would die? Would it hurt? Would he even know he had been killed? He had to hope that they could duck out of sight and lurk at the edge of the cloudbank until nightfall.
Cole looked back at the Vulture, where Commander Rainier had a hand extended toward them, face distorted with panic and anger. He realized that with his Jumping Sword, the Vulture was comfortably within range. What if he took his chances with the legionnaires? No, that wouldn’t end well. Having lost Mira, they would make an example of him.
Mira and Twitch pulled Cole down. Only then did he realize that the others were no longer standing. They were bracing themselves. Sheathing his sword, he followed their example.
“Hold on!” Jace yelled. “Here we go!”
The prow of the Fair-Weather Friend nosed into the mist. Everything became hazy. Cole could hardly see Mira beside him. A moment later, damp darkness completely enveloped them. Looking back, Cole could no longer see outside the cloudwall. He couldn’t even see his own hands.
“Turn!” Twitch urged in the darkness. “Slow down! We mustn’t go in too far.”
“I’m trying,” Jace replied, voice strained. “It won’t respond.”
Their speed was increasing. Damp air whistled by them. The lifeboat lurched and shuddered.
“Hang on!” Mira said.
Gripping the side of the lifeboat, Cole stayed low and wedged himself into the most secure position he could manage. The wind became a moist gale, roaring in his ears. The lifeboat rattled, jerked, and jolted. He was on a nightmare bobsled ride without a track or a finish line.
What if he fell? Would he tumble through damp darkness until he starved? Would his fate be any different if he held on?
The lifeboat whooshed onward. It didn’t feel like they were turning much. Cole only saw black. His clothes and hair became soaked by the mist. He thought he heard Jace shouting, but the words were lost in the gale. The Fair-Weather Friend quaked and groaned.
And then the cloudy darkness lifted, though the lifeboat did not slow down.
Eyes squinted against the damp wind, Cole glimpsed a distant castle in the twilight, surrounded by wide grounds with walls and fences, fountains and statues, lawns and trees.
His eyes registered the encouraging sight in a flash before the nose of the lifeboat dipped down toward a swirling funnel that yawned larger than a football stadium. It was like beholding the inside of a tornado—the howling suction whirled down, down, down into infinite darkness. Wispy streams of vapor from the rear of the cloudwall flowed into the chaotic funnel, along with the Fair-Weather Friend.
Jace was on his feet, wrenching at the controls. “It won’t budge!” he yelled in frustration, face flushed with effort.
Rocketing faster than ever, the lifeboat reached the rim of the funnel and began circling down into the enormous mouth. Looking around frantically, Cole saw no escape. They were already too low to view the castle. With each revolution, the lifeboat sank deeper into the funnel. Despite the immense size of their circular path, they streaked fast enough to feel the mighty g-forces of the constant turn.
Mira yelled something, and Jace shouted something else, all words lost in the cacophony of swirling air and water. Other objects descended with them, hugging the blurred walls of the endless vortex—a damaged wagon, an embroidered carpet, a stuffed tiger, an irregular jumble of timbers, a copper birdbath. Some of the debris seemed to hold steady or even rise, but the lifeboat was definitely in a downward spiral.
With no warning, the Fair-Weather Friend rammed into a huge church bell, which crumpled the prow and produced a mellow gong. The impact sent Jace over the side of the lifeboat, tumbling into the gloomy throat of the funnel.
Twitch immediately leaped from the boat, wings appearing on his back. He dove after Jace, reaching him just before he joined the frenetic wall of the vortex. Wings fluttering, gradually losing altitude, Twitch toted Jace toward the center of the funnel. The lifeboat rapidly left the two boys behind as it continued with the wild swirl of the maelstrom.
“Did you see that?” Cole yelled to Mira.
She either didn’t hear him or couldn’t understand. She was shouting something and pointing at the bottom of the boat. Cole followed her finger to where a split in the hull was trembling and widening.
“Oh no,” he managed before the Fair-Weather Friend split down the middle, the two halves flying apart. For a moment he glided through the air, his bow hovering in front of him. He snatched it an instant before plunging into the seething motion of the vortex’s wall.
All breath was ripped from him. When he tried to inhale, vapor blasted into his nostrils, making him cough and choke. He flipped end over end, like a surfer who had wiped out on a tsunami. The tumult was deafening, the wind and water blinding. No motion he made mattered—he was at the complete mercy of the vast whirlwind.
Clamping a hand over his nose and mouth, Cole managed to filter the tumultuous air enough to gasp quick breaths. He had no sense of where he was in relation to the others or to anything else. All he knew was that he was moving very fast. If he collided with a church bell or part of the lifeboat, that would be the end.
He became entangled in the mesh of a net. It was all around him and constricted abruptly. Upon tightening, the net pulled him away from the wall of the whirlwind, out into the central void.
Swinging like a pendulum, Cole stared in confusion down the turbulent vortex at the fathomless well of darkness below. The noise was tremendous, a banshee choir that made his chest throb and his head vibrate. This was no mere tornado, no simple whirlpool, no common hurricane. This was the cosmic drain that would suck all reality into everlasting nothingness.
Looking up, Cole found that his net dangled from an insectile flying machine. Somewhat like a honeybee, and somewhat like a beetle, the wings of the machine moved in a barely discernable blur. Although crafted out of silvery metal, a mosaic of snail shells, colored glass, and macaroni decorated much of its surface.
Craning his neck as the net continued to rock, Cole found that three other flying machines had collected Mira, Jace, and Twitch, each in their own nets. Empty nets hung from an extra pair of flying machines. The machines weren’t much larger than a person. Cole saw no sign of anyone piloting or otherwise controlling them. Except for the wings, the machines didn’t seem particularly lifelike. The eyes were brass rings.
After gathering in the middle of the vortex, the flying machines rose together. Cole’s companions looked uncomfortable in their nets—Mira lay curled on her back, Twitch was folded on his side, and Jace was struggling to flip himself right-side up.
Cole realized that he was partly upside down himself, with a lot of his weight on his left shoulder and side. Clawing at the net, he tried to right himself. His efforts made him sway, but yielded little result because the net was too confining for much movement.
Though awkwardly positioned, the others seemed glad to see one another. They had to be surprised to be alive. Cole sure was. That tumble into the whirlwind had felt like the end. He tried to ask what was going on, and they shouted things as well, but nothing could be heard over the ferocious howl of the vortex.
The flying machines gradually levitated above the mouth of the maelstrom. They rose straight for some time before moving away from the cloudwall. Above them, stars appeared in the fading twilight. Beyond the frenzied mouth of the whirlwind, the castle reappeared, several of the windows lit, but many more of them dark.
Who lived in the castle? Was it the people who controlled the flying machines? Whoever they were, they couldn’t be worse than death by vortex, could they?
The flying machines moved toward the castle, flying lower as the spacious grounds approached. The landscape reminded Cole of the Brink—cloud and downward glimpses of sky until the ground suddenly began.
As the tumult of the whirlwind receded, Cole called out to Mira again. “Where are we?”
She met his eyes uncertainly. “We’re off the map. This shouldn’t be here.” Even though she was yelling, he could barely hear her.
Jace gestured for them to look ahead.
On a wide lawn below waited a human figure surrounded by a group of crude, thick-limbed giants. As they drew nearer, it became clear that the figure was a woman and the giants were made of sharp, eroded stone, the sort found by the seaside. The giants formed an orderly ring, and the flying machines hovered into the center of the circle.
In unison, the flying machines dropped their nets. Cole fell a few feet, landing awkwardly on his side on the close-trimmed grass. He started scrabbling with the net, trying to find a way out.
“Keep still,” the woman demanded in a hard voice. She walked closer, hands behind her waist. Her hair was tied back tightly, her features harsh, with dramatic eyebrows and a defined jawline. Sleek black boots rose almost to her knees, and a long, slender sword hung at her side. “This is a private estate. Outsiders are not welcome. Your lives depend on the answers to two questions: Who are you, and what are you doing here?”