The sand coracles appeared like dragons in the sky over Ishalem. Imir and his granddaughters rode in the foremost coracle, along with Khan Jikaris. The other fourteen flying craft were crowded with broad-shouldered Nunghals and all the Missinian archers they had been able to conscript immediately from Desert Harbor. Imir had refused to waste time sending riders back to Arikara.
Each coracle held a large brazier and a generous store of hot-burning coal that could be dampened or stoked to keep the coracles at the best altitude. It took some experimentation, but they discovered an air current that blew west across Missinia, and another northerly current that carried them over Yuarej, Inner Wahilir, and finally to the narrow isthmus that connected the two continents.
The battle for Ishalem was in full swing when they arrived, and Imir saw the collapsed rubble where the Aidenist army had blasted through God’s Barricade, smoke rising from burning neighborhoods, and armed enemy soldiers running through the streets, bringing chaos and destruction to the holy city. Blue-and-green Tierran flags now outnumbered the crimson Uraban banners.
To his dismay, Imir saw a large contingent of Tierran soldiers swarming around the base of Arkship Hill, while armed men streamed up the Pilgrim’s Path. Another group of Aidenist warriors had ascended the opposite side of the hill to join a furious pitched battle on the broad summit. Tierran and Uraban fighters were locked in mortal combat, hand-to-hand, sword against sword.
Imir felt an ache in his heart, guessing that Omra would be there, making a last stand. The Aidenists looked victorious, about to overwhelm the Urabans.
Adreala turned her sharp eyes toward the flurry of activity on top of the hill. “I think I see Father! How can we save him?”
“The battle isn’t over yet,” Imir said, anxious to help. “Let’s make them doubt their victory today.” He pointed to the massed Tierran army at the base of the hill. “There we can cause the most damage. We’ll knock the ground from under their feet and send their army reeling.”
The bowmen in the sand coracles fired arrows down into the Tierran fighters. Shaft after shaft pelted from the sky, and the enemy soldiers could not protect themselves. Even from such a height, Imir could hear their shouts of surprise and cries of pain.
While the archers continued, Imir lit one of the gourds filled with firepowder, like those he had previously used to bombard the camps of desert bandits. Unexpected explosions erupted among the invaders, sending them scurrying in all directions like panicked beetles running out from under an overturned log. Urabans began hurling explosive gourds from all fifteen coracles.
“If this doesn’t turn the tide of the battle, nothing will,” he said. “We’ll scatter the Aidenist army.” He lit another explosive gourd and tossed it out of the basket.