by Keri Arthur
“That could take months, and we don't have—”
“It won't take months.”
A smile touched my lips. “Again, such confidence.”
“In this case, it's justified.”
I hoped so, because the only other means we had of freeing the drakkons was to remove the band from each and every one of them, and that was nigh on impossible.
The day drifted on. After eight hours at the controls, Kaiden gave me a rundown, and from then on, we alternated shifts. Thankfully, the control pod did have privy facilities, and while they weren't the cleanest I'd ever used, it was certainly a better—and less risky—option than stopping the train and running behind a tree. Especially when trees were becoming scarcer the farther east we moved.
Oma reported the occasional Mareritt sighting, but for the first two days, none came near us.
On the morning of the third day, the communications panel came to life, and a gruff voice demanded all trains report in and then divert to the nearest base.
I glanced at Kaiden. “Can they use comms to track us?”
He shook his head. “But they'll no doubt send drakkons aloft. It won't be hard to find us, especially if there's no delivery programmed for the eastern encampment.”
“How big is that encampment?”
“Big enough.”
“Does it lie between us and Esan?”
“No, but the minute their ground radars show us leaving the road and heading toward Esan, we will become a target.”
That would no doubt have happened regardless of which side of the mountain we were on. “Our biggest danger is going to be tanks—a train this size isn't exactly a hard target, and drakkon fire can only take out one tank at a time.” I paused. “In fact, making the train a target might be our best option. If they think we're dead, they might call off the patrols and give us the chance to get to Esan.”
He raised his eyebrows. “So you're suggesting we proceed on foot? And you call me crazy?”
“It's no less improbable than anything else we've done to date.”
He laughed. “That's totally true. Let's wait and see what eventuates.”
I studied the bleak landscape for several minutes. It was a place of rocks, stunted-looking shrubs, and autumn-colored grasses. There wasn't much in the way of cover, on foot or not. “What's the ground like closer to the Esan gateway?”
“We've the delightful choice of bogs or barren foothills. Neither will be easy to traverse.”
“Bogs?”
“They're eons old and run from the base of the foothills to the sea.” He glanced at me. “Have you never flown over this area?”
I shook my head. “It was only when additional help was needed that either fortress crossed into the other's flight zone. That didn't happen in my time—”
“Until the appearance of the coruscations.”
I ignored the squeeze in my chest and nodded. “And perhaps their development is the reason we had so many seasons with little or no Mareritt activity—and why we'd felt so secure.”
“Falsely so, as it turned out. The signs that something was happening within Mareritten were certainly there.”
“It's very easy to look back with the benefit of hindsight and make such connections, Kaiden. It's a different matter when you're living it.”
He grunted, but whether it meant he agreed or not, I couldn't say. Silence fell, and the miles continued to track past.
But as the flat landscape gave way to a long succession of rolling hills, Oma said, Drakkon comes.
From where?
From pass.
Meaning Break Point, no doubt. Any sign of Mareritt?
She paused. No.
Meaning the drakkon might be on a simple scouting sweep rather than being sent after us.
Let me know if Mareritt follow or if the drakkon prepares to attack.
Will. She paused again. Know her.
Something twisted inside. I knew what was coming. Knew that in the current situation it would be dangerous. Very dangerous. How?
Born same time.
Oma—
Must free her. She egg sister.
Egg sister? Twins were extremely rare in drakkons, but it did at least explain Oma’s determination. We have no safe means of bringing down a drakkon, and any delay could be deadly.
I ground her. You free.
The determination in Oma's mental tones suggested she wasn't about to give way on this—and really, who could blame her? Hadn't I done the exact same thing? Hadn't I gone careening through Arleeon in the vague hope of rescuing Sorrel, Emri, and the trapped graces? This really wasn't any different.
Will she not sense the trap?
She trusts.
Meaning I'd guessed right—while the Mareritt did control their actions, the drakkons at least maintained some autonomy of thought. And, in the long run, that could very much play into our favor.
Fine, Oma. We'll try. As her happiness flooded my thoughts, I scrubbed a hand across my face and then glanced at Kaiden. “We have a problem.”
“Mareritt?”
“Drakkon. Oma insists we free her.”
Kaiden frowned. “I'm all for doing that, but now is neither the time nor the place—”
“Oma doesn't care. The incoming drakkon is an egg sister.”
“Damn.” His expression was grim. “Then we have no choice. If it were our kin, we wouldn't hesitate. Oma has saved our lives twice now. We owe her this.”
“I'm glad you feel that way, because I've already agreed to help.”
Kaiden chuckled. “What would you have done if I'd disagreed?”
“Probably jumped out of the train and tackled the situation myself.”
“I'm beginning to think you have more in common with your grandmother than you ever let on.”
“Which is saying something, given I did have a reputation for recklessness.”
“So do I.” There was a seriousness in his eyes that belied the amusement in his expression. “I think we both know there's nothing impulsive or thoughtless about our actions, despite appearances to the contrary.”
I wondered just how many of his friends and family understood that; certainly there'd been no one in my time who'd so deeply understood me. No one, I thought with a wistful smile, except Hattie.
Kiva nears.
How do you plan to bring her down?
Will force her down and pin.
I frowned. Why pin?
Band gives Mareritt eyes. Will react when sees you.
Meaning two things. I needed to be bait, and I needed to get away from this train before she neared if we were to have any hope of maintaining our cover. How far away is she?
Close.
Within sight of the train?
Not yet.
How long?
Forty sweeps.
Which, given her wingspread and depending on how fast she was actually flying, was about ten minutes. It would have to be enough.
“There's been a slight change of plans.” I pushed up from the seat and moved to the back where we'd stored our kit and weapons. “Kiva's got a camera attached, so you need to slow enough for me to get out.”
He immediately powered the train down. “I'll put it into auto—”
“It's better if you stay at the controls. I have no idea how long it'll take to free Kiva, and the train remains our best chance of getting past the eastern encampment. We can't risk it getting away from us.”
“A strategy that makes perfectly good sense—which is no doubt why I hate it.”
I smiled. “I'll get Oma to do a fly past once we've freed Kiva, and you can come retrieve me.”
He nodded. “Keep safe.”
I punched the door open but didn't extend the ramp. After a deep breath to gather courage, I leaped out and stumbled away from the train for several yards before I was able to catch my balance. As the door closed and the train continued on, I adjusted the weight of the rifle on my shoulders and jogged down the road. When I look
ed back, the end section of the train was disappearing over the top of the hill. Relief rose. While it would still be visible to the drakkon, it was less likely that she—and any Mareritt who watched through the camera—would make the connection between it and me.
I moved off the road and into the scrub that filled the area, continuing to move in the opposite direction to the train. It was better to let them think I was heading away from any help Esan might have offered rather than toward it.
As the dusk's golden light increased, a glimmer of bloody red-gold appeared on the horizon. Kiva, not Oma.
Fire surged to my fingertips, eager for release. I flexed them and hoped like hell Oma knew what she was doing. I really didn't want to unleash my weapon on the unsuspecting drakkon—not when we'd undoubtedly need every inch of my firepower to survive whatever the eastern encampment threw at us.
Kiva's bright form drew closer. She was about the same size as Oma, but whereas the phalanges in Oma's wings were gold, Kiva's were red—a sign that one of their parents had come from Zephrine stock, the other Esan.
She spotted me and swooped low. I kept on walking, watching her leg, waiting for the moment the Mareritt gave her the kill order. It didn't take long. The control band flashed blue and Kiva screamed—a sound that echoed harshly across the empty landscape.
Oma? I halted and watched the incoming drakkon warily. Now might be a good time to bring her down.
Soon.
Kiva screamed again and sucked in air, readying to attack. Soon is now, Oma.
Not yet.
My inner fire surged, and heat burned across my fingertips in readiness. Not to attack but rather shield.
Oma—
Wait.
If she burns me, I'm not going to be pleased.
Trust.
I flexed my fingers and tried to ignore the surge of frustration. Kiva tucked her wings back and dove, her scales glittering like jewels in the fast-disappearing light. I shifted my weight, bracing for the impact of her flames, my own gleaming brightly as they dripped from my fingers.
Kiva's flight flattened out. Here it comes, I thought grimly, and cast my shield in front of me. At that precise moment, Oma dropped like a stone from the sky. She hit Kiva hard, driving her down, sending her tumbling. I swore and dropped as Kiva flew past only feet above me and then hit the ground in a squawking, rolling mess of legs and wings. Before she could react in any way, Oma landed and caught the other drakkon's throat in her jaws, her teeth close to the jugular. It was a killing position, and Kiva knew it. She stilled instantly.
Trust, Oma said, though not to me. We not kill.
The other drakkon didn't respond, but I could feel her fear and the rising tide of pain that was the Mareritt trying to enforce their will on her.
I grabbed the knife and ran toward them. Kiva saw me, and rage burned through her dark eyes. But she still held enough awareness to obey Oma.
I ducked under her wing and warily approached. Her claws flexed, digging trenches into the soft soil. One wrong move and they could very easily gut me.
Won't, Oma said. Free her.
I slashed the small camera from the band and then stomped on it. As metal bits went flying, I shoved the knife into the band's joint point and twisted it sideways. A small gap opened, allowing me to thrust the knife deeper. I took a deep breath, shoved the blade sideways as hard as I could, and forced the band apart. With a soft click, it undid and dropped to the ground. I picked it up and then quickly retreated.
Oma didn't immediately release Kiva, which made me wonder what she was sensing in the other drakkon's deeper thoughts.
Nara free me, she said. Now she free Kiva. Cannot kill. Understand?
Brown eyes studied me for several seconds. Then, in a voice that was huskier than Oma's, Kiva said, Leg and mind no longer burn. Why?
I walked up to her head and warily scratched her eye ridge. Surprise and perhaps a touch of suspicion flittered through her thoughts. Oma had trusted me almost instantly, but earning Kiva's trust would take longer.
Because I removed the band by which the Mareritt controlled you.
Mareritt?
The white ones, Oma said.
She white.
She kin.
Kin?
Kaieke. Warriors who rode ancestors and shared flame.
I couldn't help my growing smile. Oma had gleaned a whole lot more from our exchanges than I'd presumed.
Kaieke? Kiva eyed me pensively. Mareritt hate Kaieke. You burn them?
Yes. And so can you now.
Kiva's answering rumble suggested that was an activity she was more than ready to embrace.
You're no longer in their control, Kiva, I continued. They can no longer force their will on you. You are free to fly where you wish, as you wish.
Can't. Oma heavy.
I chuckled softly and stepped back to give them both room. Oma released Kiva's throat and then raised her wings, fanning enough to rise and drift sideways. But she settled between me and the other drakkon, protecting me, just in case.
Kiva pushed upright, shook out her wings, and then studied the two of us for several seconds. Uncertainty remained in her thoughts. She wasn't sure what to do next; unlike Oma, it appeared she'd never actually dreamed of freedom.
I shoved my knife away and then said, “Kiva, you’re welcome to come with us if you wish.”
Where go?
“To Esan—”
Home of the ancient ones, Oma finished.
Ancient ones?
“Your ancestors,” I said. “Esan is where many of them once lived.”
Why no longer?
Pain rose. I swallowed heavily and said, “The Mareritt killed them all.”
Mareritt bad.
Yes, Oma agreed solemnly. That why we fight.
Will help, Kiva said. Mareritt chained. Must pay.
Relief swept through me, and I briefly closed my eyes. “Thank you, Kiva.”
We go now? she said.
“Yes.” I glanced at Oma. “Before you find somewhere safe to roost for the night, can you sweep past the train so Kaiden knows we succeeded?”
Who Kaiden? Kiva asked.
Will explain, Oma said. Come.
The two of them leapt high, their wings stirring enough dust to briefly block their retreat from my sight. I tugged my undershirt up to filter it from my lungs and then began the long trek back to the road. The train appeared about ten minutes later, and we were soon heading toward Esan once again.
“I gathered it all went to plan?” Kaiden said.
“Yes, although there were a few hairy moments.” I studied the control screens for a moment. “Any further communications from the Mareritt?”
“No—and I don't believe it's a good sign.”
I glanced at him. “You think they're suspicious of us?”
“We'd be foolish to think they aren't.”
“So we head into the marsh and hope for the best?”
He hesitated. “Rather than attempt that area on foot—which would take entirely too long and give them far too much time to find us—I think it would be better to uncouple the rear control pod and use it to make a run through the bog.”
“Except you've already said we'll be easy to spot—”
“I know, but there's a good chance their attention will remain on the train rather than us.”
“What about their radar?”
“Won't work. There's something about the moisture content in the soil that disrupts the signal.”
“And the control pod? Will it actually run through the bog, or will it simply sink?”
“The electromagnetic repulsion technology should be strong enough to pull us through. It'll only sink if we stop.”
I glanced across to the guidance screen. The little green dot was now only half an hour out from a turn point in the road, and only fifty-five minutes away from the eastern encampment. If we were going to do this then we'd better do it soon. “I vote for the control pod.”
&nbs
p; “So do I.” He powered down the train, then rose. “Keep her at a crawl. I'll get the control pod ready.”
I nodded and slipped into the driver seat. He hit the door release, then jumped out and quickly disappeared into the night. I watched the road and the stars, briefly wondering what sort of reception the drakkons and I were going to get at Esan. Kaiden might have accepted us, but how many of his kin would? In this time of suspicion and danger, would they dare believe the drakkons could be freed? Or that I was not only kin but a surviving remnant of a now destroyed past?
Probably not.
Kaiden’s two companions might have witnessed me freeing Oma, but neither they nor anyone else had witnessed her helping us. After two hundred years of being hunted by the drakkons under Mareritt rule, I suspected it would take far more than our word to shake their distrust and fear.
Besides, Túxn always claimed her pound of flesh, and what better means was there to do that than have us rejected by the one place where safety should have been guaranteed?
It was another twenty minutes before I heard the sound of returning footsteps. As I twisted around in the seat, Kaiden leaped into the pod. Sweat ran down his face and stained his shirt.
“That was all damn harder than I thought it would be.”
“I take it you did manage to uncouple the pod?”
He nodded and leaned past me, filling every breath with his musky, sweaty scent. “I've jury-rigged a disconnect. Once the train turns toward the encampment, we'll make our run.”
“How long will it take to get to Esan from that point?”
His fingers flew across several control panels. “We could be there by dawn if we don't have any problems.”
“And if we do?”
“Somewhere between midmorning and noon. Let's go.”
He pushed back, caught my elbow to help me up, and then headed for the rear of the pod. After slinging my sleeping bag and weapons over my shoulder, I jumped out, this time not losing my balance. Kaiden leaped out after me and then closed the door. We waited until the rear control pod approached and then stepped inside. The door had barely closed when the train began to pick up speed again. He'd obviously preset the speed controls before we'd left.
