Strata by Terry Pratchett Page A

hadn’t hazarded an answer yet, took his barometer to the home of the lord’s master builder, and said, “I will give you this beautiful barometer if you will be so good as to tell me the height of the tower.”’
A shadow loomed over them as Silver thrust her fangs over the deck awning.
‘Forry to interrupt,’ she said, ‘but you might be interefted in thif …’
They looked past her. Most of the men had stopped rowing and were staring up into the sky.
Kin stared with them. There were three specks moving across the haze like high-altitude jets.
‘Vapour trails,’ said Marco. ‘Obviously They have come looking for us. We won’t have to go and offer them our barometer.’
‘What can you see, Silver?’ Kin asked. The shand twanged a fang.
‘They appear to be flying lizards,’ she said. ‘The method of propulsion seems mysterious, but we may learn more, since they are losing height fast.’
Leiv tugged at Kin’s arm. Around them men were methodically tossing oars and bundles into the water and diving over the side after them. The little man seemed to be desperately searching for words. Finally he remembered one.
‘Fire?’ he suggested, and tumbled her backward into the sea. The coldness numbed her, but she knew enough to twist and kick out convulsively. Treading water and gripping a handy oar she watched the sky. The specks had made a wide turn and the distant double thump of a sonic boom rolled across the sea. Marco and Silver had stayed on the boat, staring.
Soon three lizard-shapes with theatrically batlike wings glided over the wave tops to circle the boat in perfect formation, treading the air with two sets of cruel talons. Wisps of smoke trailed from their dilated nostrils.
Then they drifted towards the north, becoming specks again as they made another turn. They also gained height. If they were aircraft, thought Kin, I’d say this was going to be a bombing run.
As the first dragon plummeted towards the ship, Leiv put one hand firmly on her head and pushed her underwater.
She bobbed up furious, her ears ringing. The water was steaming. Smoke was rising from the boat.
There was a sudden mound in the water beside her and Marco surfaced, gasping and cursing. A bigger splash further along marked Silver’s return from the depths.
‘What happened? What happened?’ gasped Kin.
‘It hovered and breathed fire,’ said Silver.
‘And no bloody lizard does that to me!’ screamed Marco. He struck out for the charred hull, rocking it violently in his attempt to get aboard.
Another beast drifted down. There was a quiet splash as Silver somersaulted and kicked away for the green depths.
There was also a groan from the water-treading men as they saw Marco uncloaked for the first time, grasping an oar with all four hands. As the dragon homed in it was bright enough to tread air just out of reach of Marco’s impromptu weapon, wingbeats making spray patterns on the sea while it gathered its breath.
Something white shot through the water like a cork and gripped a pair of hovering claws. For a second Silver and the startled creature hung there. Then the wings met with a clap as they shot down into the sea, and Kin heard a distinct hiss.
The third dragon must have been the brightest, thought Kin. The brightest always fought last. It was too late for it to stop its flight. Instead it passed over the boat with its wings spread like parachutes, and, as it thundered by above his head, Marco screamed and leapt.
He was wearing his lift belt. The dragon tried to twist in mid air, tumbled, regained its balance and tried to flee for height and safety. It didn’t work.
On the other side of the boat the water foamed and a wingtip beat the surface listlessly. Then the hull canted sharply. Silver was climbing aboard.
The men around Kin shouted and struck out, laughing as they heaved themselves up the side.
High above the dogfight the surviving dragon screamed and disappeared speedily into the east, giving Kin a short and