itself had a tendency to shift alarmingly whenever the dragon maneuvered
suddenly. For Malus’s taste there had been far too many sudden maneuvers.
The blue robe of the Mighty, which was so impressive on the ground, was
totally unsuited for dragon riding. The wind tugged at the hem and tended
to flip it back above his knees. The cold air whipped up the robe and
around his legs. Probably the only part of him that was still warm was his
seat, which was protected by the saddle. But he couldn’t tell for sure
because it had gone to sleep long since.
He tried to shut out the discomfort by concentrating on the back of the
rider and not looking down. Above all, he didn’t want to look down.
The castle erupted in flame and smoke as every weapon fired on the
attackers. Artillery and mortars of every description fired and fired
again as fast as the automatic loaders could feed them. Streams of tracers
fountained up into the sky as anti-aircraft batteries sought their
targets. Lines of laser light swept back and forth over the plain and sky.
Between the killer bees and the messed-up control system in the southern
quadrant it wasn’t nearly as effective as it should have been. What ought
to have been annihilating was merely deadly. Men went down like tenpins
and dragons fell from the sky under the impact, but still the others
pressed on.
From ground and air the attackers returned fire. Lightning bolts and
fireballs flew from the wizards’ fingers destroying emplacements and
blinding sensors. Then two squadrons of dragons peeled off and let fly
with heat-seeking missiles. The missiles went for the hottest things in
the castle, which were the barrels of the artillery and the firing tubes
of the lasers. A series of explosions blossomed on the castle walls and
here and there the secondary explosion of a magazine made a section of
castle wall bulge outward and slump.
Still the attackers came on.
Circling above the battle Malus groped in the sleeve of his robe and
brought out a crystal sphere just large enough to fit comfortably in the
palm of his hand. It was held in a net that was tied to his wrist so he
would not lose it and the netting made it harder than normal to
concentrate. Still the picture was clear enough.
Peering into the crystal he saw that there were a number of other things
in the air, but little enough magic.
Fumbling in his other sleeve he produced a light hazel wand. It wasn’t as
powerful or as impressive as his normal staff, but it was much easier to
handle on dragon back. He kept his eyes fixed on the crystal as he raised
his arm above his head and began to chant.
Craig’s screen started to fill with magically generated hash. He quickly
applied a filter function to the image and some of the interference faded,
but what was left pulsed rhythmically and seemed to beat against itself
like a badly tuned instrument, creating irregular patches of dark and
light on his screen.
The magical sensors were worse. The screen filled with glowing blobs of
amorphous color that made it look like a neon lava light. Craig swore
under his breath and started combining the output of various kinds of
sensors and tinkering with filters until he got his best picture.
Vaguely Craig realized he hadn’t been smart in setting this system up.
Everything flowed back to his command center, but he could only
concentrate on a few facets of the battle at one time. There was too much
happening for him to coordinate the defense. He would have to rely on the
sensors and programming built into his warbots and other weapons. Which
was fine, only there was no way for those weapons to coordinate without
direct orders from his command center.
Still, he had a lot of weapons.
“What’s going on up there?” Gilligan demanded.
Karin shaded her eyes and squinted. “I cannot see. No, wait! Those are
dragons. Ridden dragons and they are attacking.” She looked at Gilligan.
“Those are my people.”
“Can we signal them?”
“They are too high and too fully engaged.” She picked up her bow and