The Rocket reached the edge of Crater Desert. The natural wall around the expanse

held the watchtowers of the border guards. Torches marked their lookouts. Outsiders

were not allowed to travel through the desert on foot.

The Crater Desert empire, the Houses of Ilian, protected their holdings from all

comers. They had a source for mental powers in their borders and they didn’t want

to share it with the other governments on the continent.

They allowed the air race to fly overhead, with the provision that if any of the ships,

or creatures, should land, they would be treated as if they were searching for the

Houses’ source of power. The punishment was death by slow staking under the hot

sun.

The Houses did not tell the racing commission if they had done this to some of the

racers lost in the region.

Zachariah watched the sky as they flew over the bowl-like depression in the ground.

He wondered what could have caused such a natural phenomena. The Houses didn’t

tell outsiders what they thought of it.

“We’re making good time,” said Sola. “We should be out of the desert in a few hours

the way we’re going.”

“You better get some sleep while you can,” said Zachariah. “You might have to spell

me at the controls at the end of those few hours.”

“You said there are storms over the desert,” said Sola.

“Sometimes,” said Zachariah. “No one knows what causes them, but they mostly

remain in the bowl. If you see one while you’re at the lever, climb and see if you can

get over the top so it doesn’t wreck the Rocket.”

“Have you ever been here?,” asked Sola.

“No,” said Zachariah. “I think everything I know about the Crater Desert is from

travel books.”

“Travel books?,” asked Sola. “Do we have any of those onboard?”

“No,” said Zachariah. “I left them back at the workshop. They were part of the

process while we were putting the Rocket together.”

“Do you remember anything you can tell me?,” Sola asked.

“I remember that whatever we do, if we crash, we have to lift off as soon as possible,”

said Zachariah. “The Houses and the wandering tribes on the ground do not like

outsiders. There are no exceptions as far as I know. Also there’s a breed of giant

burrowing monsters that live in the desert. If we crash, we have to watch out for them.

They are listed as leviathans.”

“They could wreck the Rocket,” said Sola.

“Potentially,” said Zachariah. “That’s why we have to keep on the lookout for hazards

in the sky. There a lot of dangers on the ground, and we might not be able to

overcome them to get back in the race.”

Sola didn’t comment on the fact they were certainly going to have to fight their way

out of any trouble with their daemons if they did crash into the ground. And they

would have to survive a crash in the first place.

They might be able to lift the Rocket back off the ground if they were lucky. She

foresaw a long walk across the desert trying to dodge the native dangers all the way.

She didn’t like the thought of that.

At least Hardy could carry her part of the way before she had to let him rest.

“There’s a spout forming there,” said Zachariah. He pointed out the window.

Sola left her seat and went to stand behind the pilot’s chair. The desert danced,

leaping up in the air. Then it turned into a spinning dervish as they watched. More

and more sand joined the dance as the turbulent air tried to decide which way to go.

Then it collapsed without warning.

“I didn’t see a cause,” said Zachariah. “What do you think?”

“Some kind of localized wind,” said Sola. “I have never seen anything like that.”

“We could build careers just trying to figure out how that worked,” said Zachariah.

“We would have to have permission just to look at that from the ground,” said Sola.

She went back to her seat. “But I would love to try to figure that out when no one else

has.”

“So would I,” said Zachariah.

Zachariah spotted the flying tree ahead. He smiled. At least the Alvas was still in the

race.

This was the first racer he had seen since the launch from Lobster Castle.

He had been glad to leave the Kellers in his wake as he shot across the continent.

He gave the flying tree a wide berth. He didn’t need any entanglements.

The controls turned in his hands. He frowned as he tried to keep on course. He tried

to pull up. The nose pointed directly into the desert.

“I need help!,” shouted Zachariah. “I need help!”

Sola and Bolan crowded at his shoulders. They grabbed the stick and pulled on it. It

wouldn’t budge.

Hardy appeared from his nest. He grabbed the stick with his large, front grippers. He

pulled back, pushing with his other four legs. The Rocket started to nose up.

Zachariah pressed the switch to activate the belly jets. The Rocket jerked as the rear

jets snapped off and the belly jets came on. Sand sprayed from the blasts as the

aircraft hovered in place.

“What was that?,” asked Bolan. “Did something go wrong with the Rocket?”

“No,” said Zachariah. “Look.”

He pointed at the ground. Men in shapeless clothes fled from the scalding given by

the driven sand. They mounted giant scorpions and rode off.

“It looks like they tried to pull us down into the desert with some kind of magic,” said

Zachariah. “Are you two all right?”

“Yes,” said Bolan. “I was having such a good dream too.”

“I’m fine, Da,” said Sola. “What are we going to do about this?”

“What should we do about it?,” asked Zachariah. “We can’t land at the nearest village

and ask to speak to the House in charge of the area. We would be executed like

common criminals.”

“So what do we do about this?,” said Sola. “We can’t let them get away with trying

to crash our ship.”

“We have a more important question to consider,” said Bolan. He wiped the leftover

sleep from his eyes.

“What’s that?,” asked Sola.

“Did they force the other racers to crash too?,” said Bolan.

“What do we do about it if they did?,” said Sola. “We can’t land and risk our ship to

save them.”

“We have to do something,” said Bolan. “We can’t leave them here.”

“We are going to do something,” said Zachariah. “The first thing we are going to do

is send out a warning to the racing commission.”

“How?,” asked Sola.

“We are going to talk to Sir Dormir,” said Zachariah. “Let’s get started.”

“The Alvas?,” said Bolan.

“We might have saved his life by sanding our attackers with the jets,” said Zachariah.

“We have to tell someone what’s going on if we want to do anything else.”

“All right,” said Bolan.

“Let’s put things in motion,” said Zachariah.

He switched the jets so that the Rocket could move forward. He turned the airship

around to fly back in the direction of the flying tree. He spotted it in a few seconds

of flying.

He switched the Rocket to hover. He took up a position next to the tree and opened

the window.

“Master Eight Arms,” said the Alvas. “Is there a problem?”

“Some of the locals tried to crash the Rocket with their magic,” said Zachariah. “We

don’t know if they did that to the others, but we thought we should warn you of

trouble ahead. We’re going to look for the other racers. If you could tell the

commission, that would be good.”

“Do you mind if I assisted you?,” said Sir Dormir. “I really need to test some of the

other capabilities of Bark here.”

“You could win if the rest of us are out of the race,” said Zachariah.

“True, but I could knock the rest of you out of the race and win if I wanted to be a

dishonorable villain,” said Sir Dormir. “That is for lesser knights.”

“All right,” said Zachariah. “How do you want to start?”

“Let’s start with finding the pooka,” said Sir Dormir.

He closed his golden eyes and raised his hands. Light appeared in the shape of a

jewel. Another light appeared in the distance.

“That is your rabbit friend,” said Sir Dormir. “The others might be with him. If they

are, that will make things easier. If they aren’t, we will have to look a little harder.”

“How long can you keep that up?,” asked Zachariah.

“As long as I want,” said the knight. “Shall we go?”

“All right,” said Zachariah. He closed his window. He turned the Rocket and headed

for the light.

The tree followed with the whirling limbs carrying it on the air.

The light burst from the sand. Zachariah wondered if all the other racers had crashed

into the ground.

“Gear Octo’s plane is there,” said Bolan. He pointed to the right of the glowing light.

“It looks smashed.”

“We’re going to put down,” said Zachariah. “We don’t know if those tribesmen are

still in the area. Keep an eye out while I try to find the others.”

“Be careful, Da,” said Sola.

“If anything happens, lift off,” said Zachariah. “It’s more important that someone

knows what happened than rescuing me. Gold Bug and I can make our own way as

long as we don’t have to worry about you two.”

“We’ll do what we can,” said Bolan. “You can believe that.”

Zachariah nodded. He brought the Rocket down for a gentle landing. He waited for

the sand to fall back before opening the window. He climbed out of the air ship,

asking for his daemon to appear.

“All right, Gold Bug,” said Zachariah. His daemon sat on his hand, antennae working.

“We think that most of the other racers were forced down by desert people. Brother

Rabbit is supposedly the source of that glow. How do we dig him up and find the

others?”

Gold Bug climbed down his body. The daemon slowly walked to the wreck of Gear

Octo’s plane. Mandibles ripped pieces of the wing away. That led to duplication and

production of machinery.

Zachariah smiled as he studied what his partner created.