by Leslie Chase
As I leveled out again, breathing fast, I saw the wings of the craft shudder. That didn't feel right. I looked around, frowning, and saw a wall of dark clouds at the horizon. Not a good sign, I thought, remembering Toprak's warning about a storm. Maybe I should have paid more attention.
Glancing at the autopilot's control board I saw that the displays had changed, and realized that I had no idea what the new symbols mean. Not that I'd had any idea what the previous set had meant, for that matter, but now they looked a little more urgent. A message scrolled across the small screen and I realized I might have made a mistake.
The translator was good enough to fool me into thinking I knew the local language. It was nearly perfect. But it didn't let me read.
"Okay, this is fine. I'll just head back now," I said aloud, wheeling around. As soon as I started the turn, though, the winds caught my flier's wings and I felt the whole thing shake violently. That can't be good.
"Just let me get back in one piece and it's all fine," I said soothingly, as though the ship might understand me and help me out. It seemed as likely to work as anything else I could try, because the steering wasn't cooperating very well.
The immense tower of the skystalk showed me exactly where I should be heading, but nothing I tried seemed to move me in its direction. The wind had me in its clutches and I went where it wanted now.
Crap.
8
Corvax
Looking at the Perhar delegation sitting across from me, I couldn't help resenting the intrusion into my life. Which was unfair, since I'd been grateful for the chance to focus on something, anything, other than Gemma.
But now that I actually had to make trade arrangements with a clan that wanted to dominate my own, I couldn't help thinking that I ought to be outside showing the human female the island instead. Looking beyond the Perhars, I saw the blue sky through the window. The day was beautiful. It wouldn't last long, not with the storm we expected blowing in, and I was missing what good weather we'd have.
And the chance to spend it with Gemma. My heart ached at the thought of that. I should be showing her the island, not here negotiating with my enemies — but duty didn't care what my heart wanted.
"Is something wrong, Protector?" Alishan Perhar asked, smiling sweetly. It took an effort not to glare at her. We both knew why she was here instead of her brother. And why she was wearing an outfit that pushed the bounds of decorum, showing off her admittedly attractive body to me. She was beautiful, but it was the beauty of a venomous predator trying to lure in prey. I had no intention of being caught by her, and I'd told both her and her brother as much.
How many times do I have to say no? I'd never liked the idea of a political match, especially not with the Perhar. But Alishan and her brother only seemed to take my refusals as a challenge. I shook my head, trying to bring my mind back to the present.
Whoever I was talking with, we still had to set the trading rates for access to the skystalk. And my people needed the grain that the Perhar were offering in exchange.
"Nothing is wrong," I answered, aware that it had taken me too long to speak. "I'm simply concerned that the storm will be upon us before you have the chance to return to your own lands."
She chuckled. "In that case I'm sure that the hospitality of the Rohar will be sufficient while we wait it out. It would give us the opportunity to spend more time together..."
Great. Just what I need. If Alishan wanted to be stuck here that meant that nothing I could do would speed up the negotiations. I was going to be trapped dealing with diplomacy until she ran out of excuses to stay.
And I was right. As the day wore on, the Perhar took their time on everything. Not pushing too hard — they were, after all, trying to be friendly — but making sure that we couldn't agree anything before the winds picked up too much for them to fly safely home. Outside, the blue skies gave way with shocking suddenness to a deep gray, and rain began to lash the windows.
"It looks like we'll be here for a few days at least." Alishan smiled lazily as she said that, stretching. "Perhaps we should break for now?"
"I'd rather get everything we can finalized," I replied. Then I don't have to spend more time than necessary with you later went unspoken, but I was sure that she caught my meaning. She didn't react, though. Far too smooth and studied for that.
She is excellent at this, I have to admit. In a purely practical sense, she would make a good mate, and her clan would make powerful allies. But I didn't want a practical match, I didn't want a woman who chose me because of my position. I wanted someone who set my soul afire, and someone who was interested in me rather than a chance to control my clan.
Someone like — no. I couldn't afford to think of Gemma like that. She was too tempting, and I didn't want to drag her into the politics that ruled my life. Especially not while the Perhar delegation was present. I didn't trust Alishan to deal with a rival well, and her guards had the hard-eyed look of killers who wouldn't hesitate to murder for their mistress.
That thought made me frown, considering. Was it possible that they'd been behind the attack? Someone had to have hired the Kalpans, and if the Perhar had known about Gemma's arrival...
I looked at Alishan, lounging with studied nonchalance in her chair. Yes, I could believe it of her or her brother. And that's exactly why I can't risk Gemma being part of my life.
Alishan met my gaze and raised an eyebrow. Smiling, she drew a breath to speak. I never found out what she was about to say, though. Running footsteps outside the room drew everyone's attention, and the doors flew open to admit one of my clanmates. I frowned. Misha was one of the calmest, most collected members of the clan. Whenever there was an emergency, she could be counted on to be a voice of quiet reason. Anything that had her running had to be a real problem.
"Protector," she gasped, out of breath. "You must come quickly."
I was on my feet in an instant. "What's happened?"
She glanced behind me, at the Perhar delegation. Lowering her voice, she spoke in urgent tones.
"It's the human, Gemma. She's gone."
"What do you mean, she's gone? Gone where?" I frowned at Misha, wondering what she could mean. Gemma couldn't have left, there was simply nowhere for her to go.
Misha looked stricken, pulling me aside and out of earshot of the Perhar delegates. Out in the corridor behind her I saw her son, Toprak, shifting from foot to foot and looking positively terrified. What in the world could they both be so worried about?
"Your mate talked my idiot son into letting her take one of the fliers out," Misha whispered, anger and fear mixed in her voice. "And the weather turned before she came back."
I glanced out of the window at the sky, seeing the speed the clouds were flitting past. This had the look of a bad storm, and all the fliers would be grounding themselves now. All bar one, from the sounds of things.
Sometimes the youngsters tried to ride a storm. I'd done it myself, everyone did. But it was a test of skill and experience — two things that Gemma did not, could not, have. Without thinking I turned away and strode towards the door, almost at a run.
"Where are you going in such a hurry, Protector?" Alishan asked behind me, rising from her seat. I turned in the doorway, biting back my instinctive reply. No matter what else happened, the arrangements between our clans were vital for both of us. I couldn't afford to alienate her.
But I couldn't waste any time, either. Not while Gemma was in danger.
"One of my people is lost in the storm," I told her. That was enough detail to explain why I had to leave, and if they couldn't accept that as a good reason for me to leave then that was their problem. Not waiting for a response, I turned and ran. The room erupted in questions behind me.
Let the Elders deal with them, I thought, taking the stairs three at a time and running for the beach. Misha and Toprak followed close behind.
Outside the winds howled past, sending waves crashing high up the shoreline, and no one was in the air. For a moment
I hoped that meant that Gemma had made landfall, but the looks of horror on the faces of the fishers told me otherwise.
"Where is she?" I demanded.
"The wind took her south," someone shouted over the noise of the storm, pointing past the skystalk. "We lost sight of her after that."
I glanced back at Toprak, hands clenching into fists. My blood boiled with rage, but I didn't have time to let it take over. Ruthlessly pushing my emotions aside, I grabbed him by the neck and dragged him close.
"Fetch your wings," I roared into his face. He opened his mouth to argue, then shut it with a snap and turned to run. Not a complete idiot then.
"You can't go up in this," Misha protested, and the others chorused agreement. "Once the storm is past we'll all go and find her."
"By then it will be too late," I snarled. "A human female with no experience of flying? She'll be dead before the storm ends."
Their expressions gave their thoughts away. My clansfolk already thought of Gemma as dead, and they didn't want to throw other lives away trying to save her. The rational part of my mind knew that they had a point. I didn't care.
No one was brave enough to say out loud that Gemma was dead, so we stood in awkward silence as the storm-blown waves crashed around us. To give Toprak his due, he was fast, running back with his silver wings held over his shoulder and a fishing spear in his hand.
"Protector, we need you here," Misha tried as her son handed me his metal wings. I ignored her, pulling the straps over my shoulders and fastening them as quickly as I could. The backpack whirred to life, gravity generators gripping me.
Misha grabbed my arm, but I shook her off. "I cannot let her die."
I took the spear from Toprak's hand, just in case. Better to have it and not need it than need it and not have it, I reasoned, as little use as it would be against the serpents that lived in the deep sea.
Bracing myself to face the storm, I leaped into the air. My borrowed wings snapped out to full extension, catching the racing winds, and I was swept away instantly. The skystalk grew large ahead of me and I only barely managed to guide myself around it. Beyond was the endless, rain-lashed ocean — and somewhere, Gemma, waiting for me to save her.
9
Gemma
Tumbling through the air in the hands of the wind, I desperately tried to get control of the flier. No luck. The wings shuddered and shook whenever I tried to turn, and while I couldn't read the control board's displays, the red flashing lights couldn't mean anything good. All I could manage was to keep myself from throwing up, and that wasn't easy.
Thank God Toprak had fastened my harness for me. It held me tight in my seat rather than letting me bounce around the cabin, and that was the only good news.
The pounding rain around me made it hard to see anything, and judging my altitude was near impossible. Lightning crashed around me, thunder shook the cabin, and I tried desperately to think of a plan. Something, anything, I could do.
There has to be a radio, right? One of these switches has to turn it on. I reached out, then hesitated. What if I switched off the engine instead? As bad as I was getting thrown around now, dropping into the sea would be worse. I shuddered at the memory of the sea monster.
There didn't seem to be any other option, though, and the flier seemed to be designed to be as safe as possible. They wouldn't let someone shut down the engine in flight, I told myself, and stabbed a finger at the most likely-looking switch before I could argue with myself.
Lights snapped on outside, illuminating the rain. No help there. The next one brought up some kind of holographic display, possibly some kind of map — the labels were incomprehensible, but there were an awful lot of red-shaded areas. A weather map, perhaps? It wasn't helping me, anyway.
Third time’s the charm, I hoped, and flicked the next switch.
The flier shuddered under me, spinning wildly and making me scream as it flipped over and over. I lost all track of what was up and down for a horrible, spinning moment. Then an awful snap filled the air and the flier steadied a little, still shaking wildly.
"Damage warning," an emotionless voice announced. "Net detatched."
Okay, that's enough random button pressing. Deploying the net in this weather was clearly not a good idea, and I was lucky it had been broken off so quickly rather than dragging me down into the sea. I had no idea what other disasters waited for me, and no desire to find out.
"I'll just have to wait it out," I muttered, tasting blood. I must have bitten my cheek in the spin. If that was the only injury I came out of this with, I'd count myself lucky.
The lights were still on. That was good. It might let someone find me — if they were even looking for me. Maybe Corvax would be glad to be rid of me. He'd wanted me gone as soon as possible, after all. I tried not to think that way, but nothing in this situation made me feel optimistic.
The cockpit rattled around me as I tried to steady the flier, to pull up, to get away from the water. But while the net had torn off, whatever was left of it was still making the flier twist and shake whenever I tried to steer it. And more and more lights on the control panel were turning red. Shit.
"Warning: low battery," the flier's voice informed me helpfully. "Less than four minutes flight time remaining."
"That's just great," I muttered, peering out into the storm. Lightning flashed in the distance, and I thought I could see the silhouette of an island. Or maybe I was just seeing what I wanted to?
Pulling on the stick, I tried to turn in that direction. What I'd do if I reached land, I had no idea, but going down in the middle of the ocean seemed more dangerous. It didn't matter much, anyway. As soon as I tried to turn, the wind pulled the flier into another tumble and I barely managed to straighten out above the waves.
I'm going to die here. The thought was strangely calm, and I almost laughed at it. Gripping the stick so hard my knuckles went white, I pulled hard. If I didn't do anything, I'd go down in the sea. If I tried... well, the result would probably be the same, but at least I'd go out trying to control my fate.
Somehow that seemed important.
Straining at the stick, I pulled the nose round in the direction of the distant island and twisted the throttle full on. No point in saving power for later. The little flier's engine howled against the storm, pulling me up and forwards, and for a moment I dared to hope that I'd make it.
I saw the giant wave just before it hit me. Screaming, I jerked the stick back, but it was too late. The wall of water smashed into the flier and I lost all my bearings, tumbling nose over tail as the cabin disintegrated around me. The disembodied voice of the flier tried to say something, lost over the crashing water, and the straps tore free. Somehow I'd been thrown clear.
My head broke the surface and I gasped for air desperately. Everything was spinning, I had no idea where I was, and another wave crashed over me before I could get more than half a breath.
This was the end. I knew it. Every muscle ached already and the biting cold of the sea sapped my strength.
I swam as hard as I could, breaking the surface again as lightning shook the skies above me. Where was that damned island? It had to be close. That was my only hope.
But I couldn't see a thing aside from the waves, and another one was bearing down on me. The impact took me under again, and I knew I didn't have the strength to make it back to the surface. Everything seemed to fade away as the strength left my muscles.
Just as I thought it was over, powerful hands grabbed me and I felt myself dragged upward, out of the water. I sucked in a desperate breath, consciousness fading, and the last thing I thought before the darkness took me was his name.
Corvax. Somehow he'd found me.
When I came to, the sky was clear and blue above me. Birds squawked and I could hear waves crashing on a beach. And everything hurt. My muscles ached, my head throbbed, my lungs burned.
For a long while I just lay there, looking up at the sky and luxuriating in the thought that I was still alive.
Somehow. Miraculously.
No, I remembered. Not a miracle. Corvax saved me. Though perhaps it was a miracle that he'd found me, out on the ocean in that storm. I had to find him, thank him.
Pulling myself up to a sitting position wasn't easy, and it made my head swim and eyesight blur. That wasn't a good sign, though I'd take it over the alternative. Once the nausea had subsided again I risked looking around, trying to get my bearings.
I was lying high up a sandy beach, the warm sun drying me off. And my clothes hung over the branches of a nearby tree. That was when I realized that I was naked. My face heated instantly and I covered myself with my hands instinctively before realizing that there was no one there to see me.
Weak as a kitten I pulled myself to my feet, steadying myself on the tree's odd, alien trunk. The bark was smooth and red, and it somehow didn't feel like a tree. Or my head wound was making everything feel wrong, one or the other. Muttering under my breath, I checked my clothes. Still damp, but not soaked, and I had to wear something. Pulling on my top and skirt, I left the rest to finish drying while I set out to search for my savior.
I didn't have to go far. Corvax was around the curve of the beach, standing waist-deep in the sea with a spear in his hands. I couldn't help staring at his bare torso as he focused intently on his work. He looked so perfectly in his element, his chiseled muscles glistening in the sunlight. Rather than interrupt him, I sat on the sands and watched as he worked.
It was like looking at a statue, he was so still. Like a masterpiece of a statue, for that matter — Corvax looked so perfect that it was hard to think of this as something other than an amazing piece of sculpture. Though I'd never seen a sculpture that sexy before.
