Alondo peered gingerly over the lip of the cliff. “Sounds risky to me.”
Rael held up one hand. “Hang on a moment.” He pulled a tablet from his grubby green jacket—the once-proud uniform of the Directorate’s Physics and Astronomy Division—and began scribbling furiously.
“What’s he doing?” Keris inquired.
“Working out whether it can be done,” Shann said, proudly.
“How?”
“He uses numbers.”
“And how does that work?”
Shann was stumped. “I don’t know... it just does.”
Keris looked at her, dubiously. Rael concluded his etchings by stabbing the page with his marker. “Point four three of a ryn per dahn. I had to make certain estimates—height of the cliff, drag coefficient, and so on. Keris’s impact speed would be slightly more, owing to the fact that she is heavier. Wind will also be a factor—it’s gusting quite heavily. Allow, say, twenty-one-hundredths’ standard deviation. I calculate you should both be able to traverse the distance safely by following Shann’s plan.”
Shann grinned wolfishly. “The two of us against three drach, and with the element of surprise on our side—they won’t stand a chance.”
“Then it’s decided,” Keris said. “Ideally I would have preferred to conduct a night assault, but we can’t afford to lose another half a day. I suggest we employ the wedge—wait until there are two of them on deck, just to even the odds a little. Then once we have dealt with those two, we will tackle the third.”
The reference to shassatan strategy was lost on Shann, but she understood the concept well enough. Keris, as ever, was a product of her Keltar training. However, that training had served them well in their struggle against the Prophet, so it was hard to feel resentful.
“Just one thing,” Shann added. “Whatever you do, don’t extend upper and lower lodestone together without the bronze layer between them. Doing so can lead to... unfortunate consequences.”
“Unfortunate, how?” Rael replied, intrigued.
She turned and cocked her head, looking thoughtfully at him. “Well, let’s just say that when I attempted that particular configuration with the boost control full on, it nearly tore the cloak mechanism apart in mid-air. I still have a bone to pick with you over that, by the way.”
The boy’s eyes widened as if she had just slapped him. “How is that my fault?”
She smiled at him with a twinkle in her eye. He relaxed visibly, then twisted his mouth into an ironic smile and shook his head.
Alondo appeared to rouse himself from the bleak, melancholy place where he was residing. “What should we do?”
Shann’s heart clenched, but she had no idea how to help him. She tried to inject sympathy and understanding into her smile. “Why don’t you and Rael head back to the beach? If all goes well, then by the time you get there, you should see us sailing into the bay to pick you up.”
His return smile was forced but his expression was genuine. “Be careful, Shann.”
“I will.”
Keris divested herself of the papoose containing Boxx’s remains and handed it reverently to Rael, who nodded his understanding before shouldering the added burden. Then she joined Shann at the cliff face. They waited in silence. Presently, one of the tiny blue figures disappeared into the sterncastle. Two remaining. The women shared a look. Time to put words into actions. They rose collectively and backed off from the edge, then raised a hand to their neck controls, sprinted towards the cliff, and launched together into the void.
<><><><><>
Chapter 23
With her carmine cloak spread out behind her and wind buffeting her from every angle, Keris simultaneously extended the lower lodestone and bronze layers of her flying cloak and slammed open the boost control as far as it would go. The reassuring kick in her shoulder harness told her that her rate of descent had slowed. She was tempted to twist around in mid-air to see how Shann was faring, but even if the girl were in trouble, there would be little she could do for her. The best way she could help Shann—the best way she could help everyone—would be to make the drop successfully herself.
She glanced down at her feet. The deck of their ship was little more than a sliver of wood—a tiny piece of flotsam bobbing on the ocean. Despite Shann’s advance planning, and the boy’s confident assurance that it would work, the whole enterprise suddenly seemed utterly foolhardy. She laughed inwardly. Too late to back out now.
As she fell, she leaned her upper torso away from the cliff face. That way, if an unexpected gust threatened to slam her into the unforgiving wall of rock, she would have a reasonable chance of pushing against it.
The heaving deck rose rapidly to meet her, and the air rushing past her ears mingled with the sound of the ocean lapping against the ship’s hull. She angled towards the foredeck, pushing against the refined lodestone set into it, and felt an added pressure on her shoulder harness. Finally, her boots struck the deck, and she fell into a barrel roll to discharge her momentum.
A red streak caught the periphery of her vision, and a moment later she heard an almighty splash. She got to her feet and saw the two drach making for the larboard rail. Shann. Somehow she had managed to miss the deck entirely and land in the water. Keris hoped the girl was safe, but there was no time to worry about that now. At least the distraction kept the drach from noticing her arrival.
Suddenly, a wild idea came to her. She extended lower lodestone and pushed off the foredeck as hard as she could. The two drach were leaning over the rail, yelling at the figure in the water. Keris sailed over the open deck before descending silently, great cloak outstretched, like a giant perridon swooping down on its prey. Her boots struck both men in the upper back, pitching them forward and over the rail. As they disappeared over the side, she heard two anguished cries, followed by two satisfying splashes.
She picked herself up and went to the rail. The drach were flailing around in the water, cursing and spluttering. Shann was nowhere to be seen. She hoped that was a good sign.
The door to the sterncastle flung open and a third blue-coated figure emerged—a veritable tree of a man, broad-shouldered and square-jawed, with bead-like eyes that seemed to recede into the massive face. Frang.
He moved his immense head from one side of the deck to the other, taking in the scene. “You.”
He spat out the word, but Keris was unmoved. “Where’s Patris?”
“Safe for now. Unfortunately we need him to sail this pathetic vessel of yours.”
She relaxed a little. Patris was still alive, and hers was the upper hand. “Why? Why take the ship?”
“Because of that.”
He pointed to the sail, half-furled, with Lyall’s image of the two hemispheres linked at top and bottom still visible. Keris blinked. “What are you talking about?”
“Some in the Directorate are not as thrilled as Hannath and Thordan about embracing interlopers from Drann. Your archaic society with its primitive culture is an insult to Kelanni civilisation. You are a threat to everything we have built here. That is why it has been decided that you should not leave this island.”
Keris reached behind her and drew her staff. “Your scheme has failed. I will accept your surrender now.”
Frang’s bulging eyebrows drew together. “I’m afraid that’s not an option.” In one fluid movement, he brought his odd silver weapon to bear and fired an incandescent yellow burst. The beam crackled harmlessly as she dived away, sprang to her feet, nimbly as a dagan, and set off on a swerving run in the direction of the forecastle.
In the game of shassatan, when dealing with a strong or an unknown opponent, it often paid to wait for them to show their hand— to allow them to designate sufficient pieces until their overall strategy could be glimpsed. Frang had now done that. He was the ‘dagger’, determined to wipe out the opposition at any cost, but since he had no other ‘pieces’ in support, he would be forced to overcommit. That would be her opening.
She narrowly dodged
another blast, then shinned up the ladder, once again feeling the push from the refined lodestone set into the foredeck. Frang advanced on her. Just as you should. She backed towards the ship’s prow, forcing him to ascend to the forecastle. Want to step onto my playground? She readied herself to take to the air once more.
Just then, she glimpsed a movement from the starboard gangway. A tiny figure, bedraggled and dripping wet, appeared over the ship’s side. Shann. She started towards Frang. The powerful man swivelled around, levelled his silver staff at her, and fired, but, like Keris, she had read his actions. Again, the lightning bolt found only empty air.
A new piece on the board created the opportunity for a new strategy. Dam. A barrier designed to cut off the opponent’s play.
“Shann,” she yelled. “Shann, get to larboard. Keep the other drach from re-boarding.” Shann bolted across the lower deck, leaving a trail of puddles in her wake.
“That won’t help you,” Frang taunted.
Keris ignored him. Come on, handsome. It’s just you and me, now.
She waited while he brought his staff to bear before springing into the air. This time, however, he was more cautious. Rather than fire blindly, he held back, forcing himself to follow her trajectory—trying to anticipate her next move. You’re learning. A pity this will be your last lesson.
She twisted and turned, enjoying the freedom of movement afforded by the refined lodestone beneath her. She fancied she could feel the big man’s mounting anger and frustration as he struggled to track the randomly moving target.
During this exchange and the earlier one involving the colcachra, she had managed to gather some intelligence on how the drach weapon worked. The period of discharge was limited—no more than a count of three. More importantly, it seemed to require a brief period of recharge. That was more difficult to estimate, but when the time came, she would need no more than a few moments.
She darted towards the deck, then pushed off again in his direction, teasing, goading him into taking his shot. Then it came. A ragged beam stabbed at her, and she felt a burning flash of agony in her right shoulder. She tumbled out of the sky like a crippled mylar, landing heavily on the wooden foredeck. Burnt cloth mingled with the stench of seared flesh, almost making her pass out. I don’t have time for this.
She gritted her teeth, staggered to her feet, and rushed him. He grunted in surprise and raised his metal staff. The two of them locked weapons. He was strong and heavily built for a Kelanni, but she had studied the techniques of weight and momentum, of force and counterbalance. She fought back the red mist that threatened to swamp her consciousness and pushed until the tendons in her arms stood out. He redoubled his efforts, shoving her back with equal force.
Instantly, she disengaged and sidestepped. As the big man stumbled forward, she whirled her staff and struck him full across the back with the darkwood.
“Oomph!” He fell face-first onto the deck. He rolled onto his back and saw the tall woman standing astride him with the diamond blade at his throat.
“Yield,” she demanded, her voice cracking.
“The drach yield,” he growled.
She snatched the silver staff from his grasp, tossing it overboard; then she grabbed him by the collar and hauled him roughly to his feet. “Command your men.” She shoved him in the direction of the ladder leading to the lower deck.
Shann stood at the larboard rail, a grim-faced sentinel—staff drawn, hair flattened, clothing plastered to her body. In any other setting, it would have been comical. The two drach were treading water alongside, casting fearful glances at the little girl who looked as if she was preparing to dice them into tiny pieces if they attempted to re-board.
“The drach yield,” Frang called over the side.
Keris placed a hand lightly on her shoulder. “All right, Shann, you can let them up now. Make sure they surrender their weapons first.” The slight girl took a step back from the rail, although her expression did not crack. “You two,” Keris barked. “You heard your commander. Now get up here.”
The two men paddled to the side and hauled themselves up on handholds set into the overlapping strakes until finally they stood on deck, sullen, soaked through, and relieved of their weapons. “What should we do with them?” Shann asked. Her voice carried a note of menace.
Keris addressed Frang. “Where is Patris?” He jerked a thumb back in the direction of the sterncastle. “All right, we’ll put you in the forecastle for now. Move.” The three men trudged ahead of them; Keris ushered them inside and barred the door with a mooring pole. She turned to Shann. “That should hold them for now. Let’s see what shape Patris is in.”
They made their way aft. Shann regarded her with an expression of concern. “You’re hurt.”
“A blast from Frang’s weapon caught me on the shoulder.” She shook her head. “My own fault. I didn’t move fast enough.”
“I don’t understand. Rael told me that the drach weapons are only used to stun or chase wild animals away.”
“They seem to have discovered a new setting,” Keris said, grimly.
At the sterncastle door, they hesitated. Keris knocked lightly. A muffled sound came from within. She opened the door and ducked through the hatchway. Dust motes danced in the half-light; beyond them, a figure lay curled up on a bunk. It turned over slowly, squinted, and then rubbed its eyes. “Keris... Shann? Well, it’s about time. Where in the seventy-seven seas of Captain Arval have you been?”
She noticed that he was shackled to the bunk by some sort of restraint. “Hold still,” she ordered, raising her staff.
“No!” The sailor-thief barely had time to screw up his face before the diamond blade swooped down, instantly severing the cords that bound him. “You crazy lubber. You could have killed me.”
Keris admired her handiwork before taking a step back. “You’re welcome.”
Shann stepped forward and knelt beside the bunk. “Are you all right? What happened?”
Patris sat up. “What happened? What do you think happened? They jumped me not long after you left, that’s what. Kept spouting references to ‘filthy Drannies’ and such. I assume they meant us. You should never have left me alone with those people. I knew they weren’t to be trusted.”
“It couldn’t be helped,” Keris said flatly. “In any case, you’re not hurt.”
Patris rubbed his wrists ruefully. “That’s what you think. Where are they? What have you done with them?”
“We have them cooling their heels in the forecastle for now,” Keris informed him. “Which leaves the problem of what to do with them. I really would prefer not to have to take them all the way back to Kieroth in custody. It’s at least a three-day journey and we are going to be short-handed as it is.”
Patris harrumphed. “That’s easy. Toss ’em over the side and be done with it.”
“Why not just let them go?” Shann suggested.
Keris turned to her, shocked. “You mean maroon them here on the island?”
“No, not exactly. What I mean is, when Rael and I get back to Kieroth, we can explain what happened and then turn the hu-man avionic over to them. It may take a few trips, but they can use it to transport their people back.
“There’s an added benefit. I doubt Frang and the others acted alone. Making their actions public may expose those officials in the Directorate who planned this—or at least deter them from attempting something like it again.”
The girl’s plan was sound. She was beginning to grow in stature, in a way that Keris found heartening. “Very well. As soon as we make landfall again, they go free.”
Patris jumped up. “Why? Where are we?” Without waiting for an answer, he shoved his way between them and headed for the door. Sunlight washed into the cabin. From outside, they heard, “Stupid drach fools,” followed by a string of curses.
For the first time ever, the two women smiled at each other before following the shipmaster out into the light of day.
~
Shann and Rae
l stood together on the clifftop, watching the Reach’s sail billow like a chest puffed out with pride as she headed for the open sea. Shann had never been a mother, but she imagined this must be what it was like to know that your children were safe from danger.
Of course, she felt responsible for the boy alongside her. She consoled herself with the thought that she had not brought him along for his fighting skills; he had none. His role was as an avionic pilot, and more importantly, as one who understood, at least partially, the workings of the four components. If trouble brewed, she trusted him to stay out of harm’s way.
Their goodbyes had been said in haste. After the defeated drach had sloshed ashore and sloped off dejectedly towards the island’s interior, Patris had been in a hurry to set sail, no doubt wishing to put the site of his recent incarceration behind him and to feel once again the surging deck beneath his feet.
Shann appreciated the sentiment. She felt a twinge of regret at having to stay behind—at having to forgo the unparalleled freedom and simplicity of life at sea. But there were larger concerns. She must try to stop Lyall any way she could. If she failed, then it would be up to Keris.
The former Keltar had bowed formally and wished her success, her earlier familiarity having seemingly evaporated in the afternoon sun. Despite all the time they had spent together, she still found it difficult to reach out to anyone of her own race. She had not spoken of Boxx’s demise since their discussion that morning. The papoose containing the Chandara’s remains was like a private burden of grief that she carried around with her.
It was Alondo who she found the most puzzling. He appeared to have grown calmer, but he was still too quiet. It was as if he had spent the day wrestling with his inner anguish and had finally come to a decision. He hugged her as usual, but it did not feel like him and she could not put her finger on why, which only added to her feelings of disquiet.
However, amid the hustle and bustle surrounding their departure, there was no time for soul-searching. Now on the windy clifftop, as she watched their little ship rise and fall with the waves, she felt the weight of concern for those cocooned within her protective wooden skin begin to lift. Safe journey.
The Lodestone Trilogy (Limited Edition) (The Lodestone Series) Page 91
