Volrath was heedless. He gained the main deck and strode to one rail, lifting the crossbow before him. Taking a deep breath, he trained the bolt on Squee's small, panting figure.

"Please, be patient," Karn implored behind him. "Please, Vuel."

Volrath hissed, turning angrily on the silver golem. "Vuel? Vuel! Vuel is dead! He was killed by your blessed master. I am not Vuel. I am Volrath. Volrath is Vuel's corpse, a corpse that wouldn't lie down and die when Gerrard killed it. Do not call me Vuel!" The crossbow trembled in his grasp.

"You are not dead, Vuel," Karn replied placidly. "You still live inside this monstrous shell. Perhaps there is only one nerve of you alive, but I've touched that nerve. Come back, Vuel. If you fire that shot, you'll kill Squee, yes, but you'll also kill Vuel-forever. Put down the crossbow. Come back to life, Vuel!" He reached out and grasped Volrath's shoulder.

Cold steel tore free from warm silver. Snarling, Volrath leveled the crossbow. The trembling was gone. He squeezed the trigger. The bolt leaped out, straight for Squee's heart.

"No!" Karn shouted, his arms flashing out too late.

A thud sounded. Chains rattled plaintively. The spars shivered. A hum shivered through the decks and lights flashed on along the rail. Masts descended. Chains sagged. The crossbow bolt shot over the goblin's drooping head.

Hissing in triumph, Volrath dropped the crossbow. "So, Weatherlight is repaired at last!"

Karn heard no more. He left Volrath there and clambered up over the glassy bridge of the ship, heading toward Squee.

Volrath smiled wickedly and barked orders to the guard captain on the deck. "Summon my crew. Weatherlight launches within the hour!"

Chapter 22

Silently, the team crept up the passageway alongside the subterranean hangar. Gerrard led the way, accompanied by Sisay, Dabis, and Fewsteem. Some distance behind, at rear guard, stalked the hulking figure of Tahngarth. It was five swords against a Phyrexian armada-but these five swords had faced down ghouls and dryads and dragon engines, and they had won. They had surprise on their side, and Weatherlight called to Gerrard.

"She's above-in the cavern on that side," he had said, gesturing beyond the huge columns of stone that spanned a mile from ceiling to floor. "They must have moored her where she could rest on the ground. She's there. I'm sure of it."

Gerrard was not given to mysticism, and so these spoken certainties had seemed nothing short of oracles. He had insisted the group retreat up the side passage, taking the fastest route around the huge cavern. Thrice along the way, they had encountered more Mercadians, and thrice more had cleaned up the resultant mess and removed the torches from their sconces. So far, no alarm had been raised.

In time, they reached the entrance to the upper cavern. As they watched, a ship rose in stately grandeur from the central pit and sailed gracefully down the tunnel to the side.

The level of activity within was remarkable. Along one wall lay an armory, with bin after bin of goblin bombs. Human workers gingerly loaded the incendiary devices into crates and set the crates on skids with rollers on their bottoms. Phyrexian dock workers-mindless creatures-stooped in their traces, pulling the skids down long aisles to various ships. Crews conveyed thousands upon thousands of bombs into bomb bays. There was a sense of urgent activity, the feeling of a vast project nearing completion. Each of those explosives had been fashioned with the intent of killing someone-or many folk-the folk of Dominaria.

Gerrard turned to the crew members gathered about him in the shadows. He gestured. "Weatherlight is there-about a hundred ships in. Do you see?"

Sisay's eyes were grim as she marked the spot. "Yes, and a whole army of Phyrexians between us and the ship."

"We'll use that army to our advantage," Gerrard replied. "Between the armory and the bombs loaded on the ships, we should be able to start a good sized chain reaction. I want the blasts to lead out into the main cavern-see how many of the finished ships we can destroy. We'll create an avenue that'll let us fly out of here. Perhaps we'll destroy the entire fleet."

"This is a plan I can wholeheartedly approve," Tahngarth said, eagerly gripping his striva.

"Here at the entrance is an unguarded vessel, loaded with bombs. We'll sneak over to it and take as many as we can carry. Sisay and I will set charges leading out into the main cavern. Tahngarth, Fewsteem, and Dabis, you'll set charges in this cavern. Target especially ships with full pay-loads. Head toward Weatherlight, set off the charges, and when the guards go to investigate, take the ship. See if you can get it up and running."

"What if we can't?" Tahngarth asked.

"Then abandon the ship, get more bombs, and blow the whole cavern," Gerrard said decisively. "Better to lose Weatherlight than to let this armada attack Dominaria." He smiled humorlessly. "Are you still so wholehearted, Tahngarth?"

"No," growled the minotaur. "It's the right plan, though. Of course, blowing the whole cavern might bring the entire mountain down on our heads." He was speaking also for Dabis and Fewsteem, who glanced uneasily up at the vast stone roof that arched above them.

Gerrard nodded. "Yes, it might. That's a risk we'll have to take. Is everyone ready?"

Heads nodded.

"Okay. Let's go."

Watchful and stealthy, they darted to a nearby ship. It was a one-person skiff with a long, bony prow and orange wings that folded like paper fans to aft. Sisay scrambled up the leathery fuselage and into a goblin-sized cockpit. Her practiced eye soon identified the bomb bay door controls. She triggered them. Bombs spilled out across the floor. Gerrard and the others cringed back a moment before swiftly loading their arms. Laden with the heavy black goblin bombs, Tahngarth, Dabis, and Fewsteem moved swiftly and silently along the wall of the cavern toward Weatherlight.

Gerrard looked at Sisay. "Ready?"

Before she could respond, a klaxon suddenly shrieked. A brazen voice squalled, echoing off the cavern walls. "Intruder alert. All troops to battle posts! Intruder alert!"

With a shout, Gerrard led Sisay down the corridor to the main cavern.

Ahead, two goblin skiffs rose beyond the railed causeway. Gerrard hurled one of his bombs, catching the leading craft squarely. There was a loud explosion. The skiff tipped sharply, spilling most of its passengers into the abyss. They screamed as they fell, their cries fading into the vast pit below them. The injured craft turned twice and slipped below the level of the causeway.

At the same instant, Sisay threw a bomb that enveloped the second shuttle in a cloud of white-orange flame. The vehicle dropped to the cavern floor, and the goblins aboard fell or stumbled away from it. The air was filled with the nauseating smell of burning flesh.

Gerrard and Sisay reached the edge of the pit and looked down. The plummeting skiffs had struck several other ships. At least one was alight, burning brightly some seventy-five feet below where they stood. Gerrard could see the forms of the dock workers running to and fro attempting to stifle the flames.

"So much for stealth," Sisay commented wryly.

"Aim for the biggest ships!" Gerrard bellowed. He threw his remaining bombs one by one.

The first struck a massive ship two hundred feet below. Its deck exploded. Gerrard could feel the force echo through the floor of the cavern. Flames shot up from the ship, scorching the hull of the craft immediately above it. The rigging and ropes of the second vessel caught fire, and in a few moments, it too was ablaze. The first ship shivered from stem to stern with another enormous explosion. Its bow tipped downward, and then it fell, a fiery meteor streaking down into darkness. As it went, it rebounded from several other vessels, and they also caught fire.