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towards the section of broken sky ship. ‘Which is more than can be said for the crew of this thing, I dare say.’
    ‘Do you think they were leaguesmen or sky pirates?’ said Glim.
    Tog ran his fingers over the fine wood and gold lettering. ‘Hard to say, really,’ he replied at last. ‘But I'll tell you this for nothing. This sky ship must have been a real beauty when she was all in one piece.’
    Glim shuddered. ‘Oh, Tog,’ she said. ‘Can you imagine what it must be like being up in the sky when so terrible a storm strikes? Nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide …’ She looked up at the hole in the roof. ‘Puts our problems into perspective, don't it?’ she said.
    ‘Certainly does,’ said Tog thoughtfully. ‘I'd best get it repaired before the whole place floods.’
    It wasn't only the mobgnomes who suffered damage. There were others, in various parts of Undertown, who lost their homes, their property, even their lives, to the falling debris.
    In the main commercial centre, a broad section of hull flattened one side of the aviary run by Flabsweat the pet shop owner, killing half the captive birds outright and leaving the rest dazed but free to escape. The bowsprit flew down through the air like a spear, skewering an unsuspecting hammelhorn - penned up and ready for the following morning's sale - as it landed. The heavy main mast crushed a row of market stalls where it fell.

    The west side of the town fared no better. A volley of falling hull-weights brought considerable damage to the opulent dwellings of several prominent leaguesmen. And the rudder-wheel - a great circular slab of rock which keeps a sky ship on an even keel - smashed through the roof of the Leagues’ Chamber itself. It broke the ceremonial ring-shaped table in two, and killed three leaguesmen in the process.
    The three unfortunates were later identified as Simenon Xintax, the current Leaguesmaster, Farquhar Armwright, a slight, nervous individual who represented the League of Gluesloppers and Ropeteasers, and Ulbus Pentephraxis - a bull of a leaguesman known more for his ferocity in battle with the sky pirates than for any business acumen: none of them had stood a chance.
    Even Sanctaphrax itself suffered damage from thewreck of the sky ship. First, a large section of poop-deck completely destroyed all the intricate apparatus on the high balcony of the Cloudwatchers’ College. A moment later, a heavy fore-harpoon speared the side of the dilapidated - and thankfully abandoned - Raintasters’ Tower and remained there, swaying precariously, halfway up the crumbling wall.
    The noise from the blow was tremendous. It echoed round the entire city and juddered through the floating rock itself.
    That's it,’ the Professor of Windtouchers groaned. ‘We're all doomed now.’ He turned to the Professor of Cloudwatchers who was crouched beside him beneath his desk. Tt has been an honour and a pleasure knowing you, my friend,’ he said.
    ‘The pleasure has been all mine,’ the Professor of Cloudwatchers replied, beaming brightly.
    The Professor of Windtouchers frowned. ‘All yours,’ he said. ‘If it was all yours, I wouldn't have derived any pleasure from our acquaintance. And I did.’
    The Professor of Cloudwatchers nodded sagely. ‘But I derived more pleasure.’
    ‘Why, you obstinate, hog-headed …’
    ‘Who are you calling hog-headed?’
    A second, and louder, noise filled the air and, as the city rocked, the contents of every shelf and cupboard in the study tumbled down to the floor with a crash.
    ‘That's it,’ the Professor of Windtouchers groaned. ‘We're certainly all doomed now.’
    The third loud noise was the loudest of all. It boomed and thundered with such force that the two professors fell down flat on the floor. All over Sanctaphrax, academics and apprentices, servants and guards, did the same.
    Only the Professor of Darkness, the Most High Academe of Sanctaphrax, knew what had happened. At the sound of the first crash, he