Like at our last meeting, the particles disperse over her face to hide her expression. This topic must truly make her nervous. “Yes. All I need is contact with one of the wall’s stones.”
I nod. “Good. Once we’re in possession of the Parvanovae, you get to the wall. We’ll destroy the warship—”
“I wish I could do it right now,” Aspen says through his teeth, fingers clenched into fists as he casts a dark glance at the channel. “It will take all my restraint not to rip it to shreds as soon as it docks.”
I suppress a chill, visions of the broken ship at Varney Cove flooding my mind. With his full strength and all the magic he needs at his beck and call, there’s no doubt he’ll be able to destroy it on his own.
“As soon as we get that bomb, it’s all yours,” I say. Then I turn to Fehr. “After the warship is destroyed, you will build the final stones.”
The djinn nods. “I’ll await the signal.”
“And when the last stone is in place, I’ll perform the enchantment,” Estel says.
Nyxia lifts her chin with a smirk. “Then the isle will belong to us.”
* * *
Morning illuminatesthe ships as they draw near the port. We remain on the bluff, crouched down to keep out of sight. Just when I think the warship will pull in toward the dock, it slows and turns starboard. My heart races when I consider it might be leaving and returning to the mainland. I can’t tell if I’m angry or relieved, for we still need to regain possession of the Parvanovae. So long as it’s in human hands, no one is safe.
But the warship doesn’t change course; it remains in place with its port side facing us. The three smaller ships proceed forward, leaving the warship in the channel.
Panting breaths and the heavy padding of enormous paws tells me Flauvis has arrived. Not bothering to keep out of sight, he runs to the edge of the bluff. “Is the beast too scared to get close?” he says with a teasing laugh.
“Don’t let your arrogance make you comfortable,” Nyxia says. “The smaller beasts still come.”
“Perhaps they’re scout ships,” Lorelei says. “Come to scope out the territory before they bring the troops in from the warship.”
She might be right, but the sight of the smaller ships unsettles me. They may not be heavily armed like the warship, but there’s still something terrifying in their design. What’s even more unsettling is that the three ships don’t head for the docks; they close in on a long stretch of beach beneath the bluff we’re hiding on. Which means, if they hadn’t noticed the new wall before, they must now, for Fehr left off his progress at the far end of the beach.
“Why are we hiding up here like fools?” Flauvis asks. “Why aren’t we swarming these humans as soon as they touch land?”
“You know why,” Aspen snaps. “We can’t do anything reckless until we know who has the bomb. Trust me, it’s making me crazy to do nothing too.”
Flauvis grumbles in response, but he doesn’t argue.
With bated breath, I watch as the three ships come in closer to the beach, expecting them to run aground at any moment. But instead, the bow of the three ships moves easily from water to sand, revealing a flat keel that keeps the ships upright as they ground.
“What kinds of ships are these?” Franco mutters.
I shake my head. “Nothing I’ve ever seen. They’re amphibious. At least, partially so.”
Flauvis’ hackles rise and he begins to pace. “These ships bring death. We need to attack.”
The same trepidation has the skin prickling on the back of my neck. Everything in me wants to keep whatever is on those ships at bay, wants to destroy them before a single soldier can emerge. But one of these ships could have the bomb. Destroying them could detonate it. “Just…wait.”
Voices ring out from below, commands too distant to hear. Then, to my horror, the bow of one of the ships splits, swiveling outward like two doors. Once open, a ramp is lowered from inside. The other two ships follow suit, bows gaping wide. I can’t help but imagine the ramps they spew as tongues lolling from the maws of great iron beasts. I expect fire, teeth, a guttural growl, but the inner belly of each ship remains dark, hiding what it contains.
“I don’t like this,” Aspen says next to me.
I don’t either, but I can’t find my words. I can hardly blink as I watch those platforms, sound roaring to life from inside each ship. Then movement.
From the first gaping mouth comes an ironclad vehicle, rolling down the platform on two rows of elongated tracks. Its front is mounted with an enormous gun.
My blood goes cold. It’s a tank.
Another one follows as the first drives down the beach, crawling over sand and driftwood with ease. Then the other two ships deploy their cargo, and soon six tanks are driving toward the docks.
That’s when the soldiers emerge from the ships, crawling over the beach like a swarm of ants.
