When Logan reentered the ship, he left those above with only shifting light beams as signs of his progress. Tension charged the air. Too many things could go wrong. Brother Vaughn was convinced that was why the diver had wanted the young people to stay on land; he was protecting them from what he knew might claim his life. Brother Vaughn admired the man's bravery and honorable intentions, but he cursed him under his breath at the same time. "And now we all just have to wait here and wonder if you're drowning or not," he said without meaning to.
"He's well," Trinda said, her eyes hooded, as if her thoughts were far away.
A moment later, Logan proved her correct and emerged from the Drakon Ghar, his legs pumping as he rushed back toward the surface. The diver swam to where Trinda waited. He was gasping for breath but held the herald globe steadily in one hand and a circular object in the other. "M'lady," he said. "I'm so sorry. I got the secondhold open, but this is all that was in there." He handed her a stone ring big enough to be worn like a bracelet. Brother Vaughn tried to get a better look at it, but Trinda turned away, leaning over as she examined it. He'd seen it for no more than an instant, yet he would have sworn it bore runes and maybe even a metallic glint.
He was about to ask Trinda what the ring was when Logan said, "Oh. And there was this." He reached down and pulled a rolled cloth from his loincloth, which was still submerged.
"Wait!" Brother Vaughn said as Logan moved to hand Trinda the rolled cloth. "Leave it under water. If you expose it to the air, it could disintegrate."
Trinda crossed her arms over her chest, met his eyes, and listened. Her expression was not entirely friendly.
He continued, speaking more quickly. "We need a vessel to move it out of the God's Eye without risking destroying it. And we'll need to move it to a colder part of the keep. There we can transcribe and preserve whatever knowledge it contains, even if we cannot save the item itself. May I enlist the help of your guards?"
Trinda stood silent for a moment, considering his words. "Do as he says."
People moved to obey her command and fill Brother Vaughn's requests. He wasn't certain it would work, but his studies on preserving knowledge told him it was his best chance. It also brought back painful memories of the order from which he was now estranged. He sought comfort in the fact that he lived his life by the Cathuran order's tenets, more so than many of his brothers and sisters, but those were prideful thoughts, and they shamed him. Only the knowledge of misdeeds at the hands of his brethren banished that shame. He was not innocent, but he was in the right.
"May we see the other . . . uh . . . thing?" Kenward asked seemingly against his better judgment.
"You'll get your chance," Trinda said with a smile that chilled Brother Vaughn. "But now's not the time. When you've secured the document, my guards will escort you to the great wheel. I think you'll find the conditions there favorable. By then, you should also have your supplies, and your repairs should be well under way." With a nod, she ended the conversation and walked away, most of her guards going with her.
Four guards remained. They would not meet his eyes. "You all know us, and you know we mean you no harm. Be at ease." The guards remained as they were, and Brother Vaughn sighed. So much in his world had changed, and little of it was for the better. He couldn't help but smile, though, when Martik arrived with a work crew and materials. Wood planks were assembled to make a small box, which they lined with oiled hide. The box was just wide enough to hold the rolled canvas. Martik instructed his men to build a larger container near the great wheel, one large enough to hold the unrolled scroll and still keep it submerged in elbow-deep water.
"I want water from the God's Eye to fill the container," Brother Vaughn said. "Don't use river water, please."
"Do as he says," Martik said. He leaned closer to Brother Vaughn and asked, "Strom and Osbourne?"
"They're fine," Brother Vaughn whispered. The guards pretended not to hear. "Though I'm not sure you'd get them aboard the Serpent again."
"Not sure you'd get me on her either," Martik said. Now it was Kenward pretending not to hear, though he was doing a poor job of it, his annoyance difficult to hide.
Once the transport vessel had been filled and checked for leaks, four of Trinda's guards lowered it into the water. The diver placed the rolled canvas in the vessel and climbed from the water.
"Move steadily and let everyone know if you are tiring," Martik said, "We'll get someone fresh to take over. The lady has made it clear she values this object and we are to treat it with care."
Brother Vaughn could barely contain his curiosity. Ever since they had found the cube, he'd wondered what purpose it could serve, and ever since Kenward had told him it was a key to the secondhold, he'd wanted to know what could possibly wait there. Part of him knew it might be illegible, its contents lost to the flow of time. Still he hoped.
Martik and his crew proved themselves as flexible as they were capable, and soon they were moving into parts of the keep Brother Vaughn had never seen before. The great wheel was a shock to see. He'd heard about it from Strom and Osbourne, but their descriptions failed to express the overwhelming presence and sense of unstoppable power the mighty apparatus conveyed. The water cascading over it kept it slick and glossy, and it reflected the amber light from enormous crystals overhead. The very scale of the place made Brother Vaughn wonder at how it had ever been constructed. Such mastery and power the ancients had! It made him feel small and ignorant.
A more permanent vessel waited there, ready to hold the document while he transcribed it, assuming there was something to transcribe. As soon as the scroll was moved into the more accommodating vessel, Martik turned to Brother Vaughn. "It's in your custody now," he said. "But if you don't mind, I'd like to stick around and watch what you do."
"I don't object at all," Brother Vaughn said, "though I can make no promises. It could be that the years have erased everything." As soon as he leaned down to examine the document further, he saw it wasn't so. Precise lines crossed what would be considered the outside of the rolled document. A single trip of cloth tied with a simple knot secured the scroll in spirit only and fell away at the slightest probing of Brother Vaughn's knife. It didn't bode well for the rest of the document. The parchment resisted being unrolled, cracking and splitting. Martik sucked in air over his teeth, and Brother Vaughn looked at him.
"Sorry," Martik said. "I hate it when people do that to me. Please, carry on."
Trying a different approach, Brother Vaughn used a straight edge to lift the seam all at once, and the document gradually revealed itself. The parchment had been used multiple times. There were messages then other messages between the lines of the first, and there were tallies and numbers jammed around the edges. Thick, dark lines emerged, revealing a more urgent message written over top everything else. It was only the beginning of a message, and Martik leaned in close, looking over Brother Vaughn's shoulder. The parchment resisted giving up the remainder, though. Again Martik sucked in air as the document tore and a chunk stayed where it had been for thousands of years. Brother Vaughn did what he could to recover the fragment, but it was completely fused. He continued, hoping the missing part could be reconstructed based on context, but he hated to lose anything. There could be many things to learn from all the messages on this document.
With trembling hands, Brother Vaughn continued his ministrations. The message emerged.
BEWARE THE FIFTH MAGIC.
He was fairly certain the third word was fifth, but much of it was missing. He could think of nothing else it might be, and he turned to Martik.
"I can't argue your translation," he said, "but I also can't be certain."
"You're right," Brother Vaughn said. "Fifth is my best guess, but it doesn't really tell us anything."
"That stone ring had writing on it too," Kenward said, but the guards' glares silenced him.
Brother Vaughn changed the subject. "I'd like to see if I can transcribe any of the older messages on this parchment
."
"Those look like inventory tallies in the margins," Kenward said, "but if you want to translate an old love letter, be my guest."
Brother Vaughn wasn't certain the guards believed Kenward's last statement, but they did look at least a little less interested in what he was doing. Everything they said of any consequence was no doubt being relayed to Trinda, but maybe he could still learn something to give him an edge. Sadly, Kenward's prediction the other messages were love letters proved true.
"I don't think we're going to learn any more from this," Brother Vaughn finally said, and he stepped away from the vessel, his hands still dripping. To his surprise, the guards covered the vessel and stood watch over it. "I've completed my analysis," he said to one of the guards. "Can you please let her highness know--?"
"She knows," the man said, averting his gaze, making it clear Brother Vaughn would get nothing more from him. He was left with no idea what to do. Kenward fidgeted and Martik was already talking with men from his crew.
"I should be going," Kenward said into the awkward silence. "I'm sure her highness would like my ship out of her hall."
No one barred his path.
Chapter 10
Despite eons of disuse, weapons of the past threaten us all.
--Nat Dersinger, prophet
* * *
The Serpent was closer to being airworthy, but a few metal pieces needed to repair broken mounts had still not been sent from the smithy. Kenward wondered if Trinda had truly passed along his request since he hoped those working the smithy would not intentionally keep him waiting--certainly not under these circumstances. His attempts to visit the forge had proven he did not have free rein within the hold. He was left with two options: wait until Trinda decided to give him what he needed and let him go or risk coming apart in the air. People might say he was crazy, but he wasn't stupid.
The remaining crew checked rigging, joints, and lines, then double-checked. They grew restless, Kenward knew, and he could hardly blame them. Trinda was an enigma he was certain he'd never understand, and the best thing to do would be to get away from there. The child queen still wanted the second throne from the Firstland, and Kenward had already decided she'd have to find another way to get it there. He, his crew, and his ship were simply too precious to risk for someone who might turn around and have him killed or imprisoned.
What Kenward hadn't been expecting was to see Sevon coming from the direction of the kitchens and the forge, a place he himself had been denied.
"May I approach?" Sevellon the thief asked.
Kenward reminded himself to whom he spoke. "Don't come too close and keep your hands where I can see them."
There was pain in the thief's eyes. "I'm sorry. I know you're angry, but I hope you'll understand. I couldn't reveal myself, even to those I trust and care for."
Kenward was a pirate; he understood such things. "Did you ever steal from me or my crew?" he asked, not certain he'd believe any answer but yes.
"No, sir. There're few places in the world I've felt more at home than on the Serpent. You and the crew are like--"
"But you did steal something from the lord chancellor, which put the verdants on our tail and caused no end of trouble, did you not?"
"I did, sir," Sevellon said, his head hanging low.
"And how do I know you wouldn't do such a thing again?"
"I give you my word."
Kenward knew a thief's word was as good as a pirate's, which was to say it varied widely. Sevon had been a valuable crewman not easily replaced. Few were brave enough to board the Serpent, let alone work the rigging like Sevon. The man was physically as nimble and quick as his sharp mind. "How do I know you're not still working for Trinda? After all, you just came from places I've been barred from going."
"I'll not work for the child queen again, sir. She violated the contract by revealing my true name. This cannot be forgiven."
Kenward thought on this for a moment. It was a risk. Sevellon was a convincing liar; it was requisite for his profession. "I just don't know if I can trust you."
The thief nodded, sadness in his eyes. "I had hoped you would understand, but I hold no grudge. I endangered you and your crew. As a token of my appreciation, I bring you these, though I recommend you install them quickly and be on your way. I heard tell of orders to be ready to close the gates on a moment's notice."
He handed the metal pieces needed to repair the mounts to Kenward.
The value of the gifts and the information could not be overlooked, and Kenward extended his hand. "Come, Sevon. We've work to do."
Sevon smiled and did not hesitate. Soon they worked to quietly install the new mounts that would hold Kenward's prized experimental engine in place. Without it, they wouldn't get far. Most of the crew remained as they had been, obeying Kenward's silent command. No one could know just how close they were to being airworthy. Bringing the boiler to temperature would take time--time when it would be quite obvious they were preparing for departure.
"Light a test fire," Kenward ordered far more loudly than needed. "Not too much, now. We just need to test the pressures; we still haven't got all the parts we need." The guards nearby ignored him, and he hoped his luck would hold. When Brother Vaughn approached, Kenward thought that alone might give them away. He had no desire to leave the monk behind, but having him show up just when they were heating up the engines was more than inconvenient.
"Are you getting ready to leave?" Brother Vaughn asked softly.
The skin on Kenward's neck stood. He was stealing honey while the bees watched. "Still don't have the parts we need," Kenward said, again louder than needed before continuing more softly. "Be ready at a moment's notice, but do whatever you can to make it look as if we can't leave yet."
"I'll see if I can get some food for the crew while they wait," Brother Vaughn said so loudly Kenward cringed.
Brother Vaughn walked away and did his best to blend into the crowd. Kenward shook his head, knowing their plans must be all too obvious to anyone paying them the least bit of attention, which Kenward hoped would be their saving grace. His hopes were dashed, though, when Trinda emerged into the great hall flanked by rows of guards. She wore a long, white dress with a train rustling along the stone behind her. She came to stand before Kenward. Sweat ran into his eye.
"I would have had your parts brought to you, but you've apparently beaten me to it," Trinda said, her eyes landing on Sevon, who was high above. The rigging hung limply from the mast, which stood at an odd angle because the ship rested on her side.
Kenward remained silent.
"You were to deliver me two thrones," Trinda continued. "I will expect the other before the first snow. Is that clear?"
This was not an enemy Kenward wished to create. "I understand," he said, still unsure as to whether or not he would make good on the bargain.
"You should hurry," Trinda said, a knowing smile on her face. "The skies may not remain clear much longer."
Kenward turned back to the Serpent. "Stoke the fires and open the valves full stop!"
Steam and black smoke began to fill the air around the ship, and when Kenward turned back to Trinda, she was gone. He finally found her sitting on the humongous throne, her elbows on her knees and her chin in her hands. She watched Kenward intently, and his skin began to crawl. He returned to his work with full intensity. As much as he hated to admit it, that girl frightened him.
Moments later he knew the fear was warranted. Trinda Hollis, the child queen, began to sing.
* * *
Reunions were at hand and Sinjin smiled. It had been too long since he'd seen the Dragon's Wing's crew. Kendra flew nearby and, though she might not be overjoyed to see Gwen again, seeing Benjin, Fasha, Wendel, and Jensen was enough to bring tears to her eyes. Sinjin pretended not to see them.
Gerhonda flew in close, and Kendra instructed them on where she wanted them to dock. It had been some time since they had been there last, and Kendra took pride in what she'd accomplished. Atop
a rock shelf that protruded from Windhold, Kendra had orchestrated the construction of a landing field. It had dragon riders flying between the beaches and the plateau for weeks, but a black beach now formed a suitable dry dock. Wooden structures waited at the far end to secure the Dragon's Wing.
Benjin didn't appear sold on landing his ship in the dry dock, and he could see the disappointment on Kendra's face. Those eyes must be the same force that drove Sinjin to recklessness. Fasha could have countermanded Benjin's orders, but she did not. The way she stormed to the stern gave evidence as to her opinion, though.
"We'll guide you in," Kendra said, now beaming.
Valterius must have recognized the danger and followed even Sinjin's most subtle urgings. It was a magnificent feeling to have another creature acting as a willing extension of your own body, especially when that creature could fly. For most of his life, he hadn't known how freeing flight could be. Always before he'd been limited to moving on the ground or on the water, but now he could soar the skies and view the world from another perspective.
The Dragon's Wing slowed as she approached the shelf. Now that the ship was really here and moving in closer, the shelf appeared far too small, and the command to abort caught in his throat.
"Too fast!" Kendra shouted. "Slow down."
"I can do this," Pelivor shouted, and Sinjin saw Benjin and his grandfather brace themselves.
Black sand filled the air beneath the Dragon's Wing, but plenty remained on the shelf. Pelivor stood with power flowing around him, orchestrating the thrust and lift through his communication with Gwen. The two strained as the ship settled into black sand, but the crew barely moved on impact. It took a moment before a cheer rose up from the crew, allowing Pelivor and Gwen to release the energy they'd been channeling.
Sinjin squeezed Valterius with his left leg, indicating he wanted the dragon to execute a wide turn, which would allow him to share a moment's celebration with his wife, but Valterius did not respond. Being far less subtle, Sinjin tried again to get his dragon to turn. Valterius ignored him.
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