Evander gave his immediate surroundings a glance, and shrugged. Taziri dashed back into the shelves and crates at the back of the shed and emerged a moment later with the rusting remains of a small windmill. She tossed the thing onto the workbench and yanked out the wires from its base, pulled the utility knife from her pocket, and quickly split and stripped the wires.
“Now what are you doing?”
“Making fire in the absolutely least convenient way imaginable.” She held the two exposed wires in one hand, their tips hovering only a hair apart and just above one of the greasy rags. With her other hand, Taziri grabbed the sturdiest looking blade of the windmill and began spinning it as fast as she could. A moment later, a spark flickered between the wires. A moment after that, a shower of sparks fell onto the rag, and then another. Taziri spun the blade until her shoulder ached and the wires went on spitting sparks onto the rags until angry little flames suddenly unfurled across them. Taziri shoved the windmill away and grabbed the two canisters, using the one burning rag to light the other one. Then she kicked her blockade away from the door and the door swung open on its crooked hinges.
Taziri ran across the field. The other pilot and the ground crew had barricaded themselves inside the older airship, and the woman in white was slowly but surely smashing through the tempered glass with her long knives. “Hey you!” Taziri stopped in the middle of the field, still some distance away from the woman. “Hey! Leave them alone!”
The woman continued shattering the airship windows.
Taziri grimaced and hurled one her flaming canisters so that it fell just behind the woman. When it struck the ground, it split open length-wise along the seal and the released gas exploded with a deafening thunderclap followed by the woof of a fire ball. It was a very small explosion, and all trace of it vanished in an instant, but the woman was thrown face first into the broken window. She stumbled away from the airship with one hand pressed to the side of her face where bright red blood was streaming across her skin and running down the front of her white coat. She dashed across the field with the stiletto in hand. “You think I’m scared of a little fire?”
Taziri jogged backwards. “Stay back! I have another one!”
The woman in white leapt at her.
In that instant, Taziri only saw the knife tip flying at her chest and a cold terror raced down her arms. She threw the canister with a clumsy gesture as she twisted away to protect herself. Through narrowed eyes, she saw the canister crack open against the woman’s shin, saw the brilliant gold and crimson blossom of flames swallow her lower body, saw her thrown into the air as her legs were blasted out from under her. She spun a tight and violent rotation in empty space and fell like a sack of bricks in the muddy grass, right on top of the broken canister.
For two deep breaths, Taziri could only stare and swallow. Then she shivered and straightened up, and she jogged over to the woman and kicked the knife out of her hand. The woman’s eyes were closed but she was breathing in thin, painful wheezes. Taziri stood over her and winced at the sight of her face. The fresh cut on her forehead was shallow but bloody. The burns were minor but ugly. Her sunglasses were gone, revealing an empty eye socket. The sight of the gaping hole brought a mouthful of bile up against her teeth and Taziri leaned away to spit it out and cough.
As she backed away, the other pilot and ground crew came running over. They thanked her and praised her makeshift flash-bangs with awkward smiles. The men grabbed the woman and bound her hands and someone ran off to find the police. Taziri stood and watched it happen, watched them buzz with nervous excitement and weary relief. Evander came up, glanced about the scene, and wandered off toward the gate, muttering only the briefest of thanks.
The police came, asked their questions, and took the woman away. At that moment, Taziri didn’t want to go back into the city, back in search of the Espani doctor. She wanted to leave. She wanted to go home. So she paced back to the Halcyon and slipped into the pilot’s seat and watched as the green grass faded to black and silver as day became night. Above the dark walls around the field, she thought she saw a dull orange glow to the west and a column of smoke rising above it. She closed her eyes, but more images and sounds from the last two days crowded her head, and for the longest time she tried to focus on home, on Isoke and her ship, on Yuba and their daughter. But it was all too much and she was too tired. She was just about to get up and leave when she heard the soft shushing of people walking on grass and she turned to see Ghanima and Evander in the shadows a few yards away. They entered the cabin.
“What’s going on?” Taziri asked. “I thought you were going home.”
“I was,” Ghanima said. “But I missed the morning train and then I had all day to think about, well, everything. I sent a telegram. My sister will be okay for another day or two. I guess I need a little more time. I need to get the Crake out of my head, you know? I just need a little bit of normal right now, before I go back to her.” Ghanima leaned against the pilot’s chair. “So. Do you feel like a little night flying?”
“What are you talking about?”
“I ran into the doc at the inn and it seems he still needs a ride to Orossa.” She grinned. “So how about we run him up there right now, turn around, and fly all night back to Tingis? We could be home by dawn if the wind plays nice.”
“Well, that sounds like a plan. But what about Kenan?”
There was a sharp rap on the hatch rim and the weary face of the one of the ground crew men poked in. “We’ve got a bit of an emergency. How fast can you folks get out of here?”
“Why? What emergency?” Ghanima asked.
“Fire, a big one in the third district, completely out of control. It just came in over the wire, emergency regs are in effect. All airships need to be out of the city immediately.”
Ghanima tossed the man a quick salute. “Acknowledged.” And the man was gone.
“Well, it looks like we’re heading out.” Taziri was too tired to think very hard about Ghanima’s proposal, but there were no glaring problems with it. Most importantly, it ended with home. Home, and soon. “Shut the hatch. Wheels up in ten minutes. Next stop, Orossa.”
Chapter 35. Syfax
The major scanned the platform at Arafez Central Station, taking in all the variations of travelers. Mostly well-dressed businesswomen and their escorts and assistants, but also a few families. His thoughts strayed to the families hiding in the woods and he wondered if they had made it to the city yet.
Syfax glanced at his aide and saw the young man picking at his lip. “Spit it out, Kenan.”
“Spit what out?”
“Whatever’s got you all wound up.”
“It’s nothing.” He paused. “I just think we should have told the other marshals what was really going on. They’re holding our only witness and prisoner with no evidence and just our word to go on. What if Medina talks them into letting her go? What if Hamuy dies and they bury him in some unmarked grave?”
“And what if someone in the marshals’ office is working for Sade?”
“All the more reason to tell those officers everything we know.” Kenan frowned. “If they knew there was a conspiracy, they could start looking for traitors. It would make things a lot harder for the bad guys if the good guys were actually looking for them. As it stands now, these conspirators are still running around unchecked.”
“Maybe.” Syfax scanned the platform again, noting the handful of new arrivals scattered around them, all waiting patiently for permission to board the waiting train. “Or maybe the fact that we’ve got Medina has them scared and they plan to lay low for a while.”
“If that’s the case, how do we catch them? Aside from Lady Sade and the ambassador, we don’t have any suspects.” Kenan frowned at the train for a moment, but his gaze wandered around to the wider cityscape of dark buildings against a darkening sky. “That’s an awful lot of smoke over there.”
“A fire?” Syfax turned to look. “It’s a bad one. But it’s not in the fac
tory area, it’s near the city center. Damn. You know what that means?”
“Riots?”
“Riots.” Syfax turned back to the train and a moment later he nodded at a group of people just stepping out onto the platform. “How about them? They look like suspects.” The marshals watched as Lady Sade led her entourage across the platform and formed a tight-knit circle next to the first class car just behind the staff car. Their number included several women wearing too much jewelry, a pair of men with unusually large upper arms, an Espani in a wide-brimmed hat, a girl in a feathery coat, and a handful of children carrying small bags.
“I don’t recognize any of them, except the governor.” Kenan kept his voice low and his eyes on the train.
“I recognize one of them.” Syfax turned his back to the group. “The one in the blue dress and the tall hair is Fariza Othmani.”
“Friend of yours?”
“Recent acquaintance. She lives in Khemisset. Chaou went to see her, but when I questioned her she denied having any connection to Chaou. She said she was retired. Apparently, retirement leaves her free to come to the city at a moment’s notice. She must have one hell of a steam carriage.”
Kenan nodded. “So, not a coincidence.”
“We don’t believe in coincidences, Kenan. I’ve told you that.”
“Yes, sir.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Someone just joined the party. Someone in a dress, but with a scarf and a hood. I can’t see her face, but she’s short. Could be Chaou.”
“It probably is.” Syfax kept his eyes on the opposite end of the platform. “What are they doing now?”
“Talking. Waiting.”
Syfax nodded. “How’s the arm?”
Kenan rolled his shoulder. “Better. I think I can live without this for a while.” He tugged the sling off his shoulder and slipped his arm slowly into his jacket sleeve with a slight wince. “Yeah, I’m all right.”
“Good. Now get the chip off that shoulder and we’ll be back on track.”
“Sir?”
“Kid, when I left you in Chellah you were all nerves and energy and sharp salutes. We’re separated for a day and now you’re a pile of sulk.”
“Sorry, sir.” He straightened up.
“Relax, corporal. We’re alive, we’ve got two people in custody, and we’ve got a handful of suspects in sight. This investigation may be a bit of a mess, but it’s coming together. In a few hours, it’ll all be over and you’ll have one hell of a story that you’ll never be able to tell anyone.”
Kenan sighed. “Because it’s all going to go in a classified file?”
Syfax nodded.
Kenan grinned. “Good to have you back, sir.”
A few minutes later, the train conductor emerged and declared that boarding would now begin. Everyone on the platform lifted their bags and politely converged on the train’s doors, where they funneled inside. Syfax led Kenan into the thick of the crowd and they entered the train two cars back from first class. Despite the press around the doors, the evening’s collection of travelers was well below capacity and the marshals found themselves in a sea of empty seats.
“Not a lot of cover, is there?” Kenan shifted about, looking up and down the aisle. “Should we move?”
“No. Just put your jacket under your seat. They may send their people back to check the train and we don’t need any extra attention before we’re ready.”
“Right.”
“And go sit over there. Spread out and keep your eyes on both doors.”
“Right.”
With their red coats stowed, they settled into their seats and watched a handful of stragglers board the car and find their seats. The conductor came through to check their tickets and comment on the lovely weather, and cluck her tongue at the riots. A few minutes later, the train whistle blew and the doors closed. The low growl of the engine rose in pitch and a deep huffing and thrumming shuddered through the car, and then they were rolling. Central Station crept away, and then a series of warehouses glided by. Moments later the walls of Arafez vanished and the world spread out to the horizon above wide fields of tall green grass and the occasional cluster of junipers and pines. In the fading light, Syfax spotted a lone oryx grazing on a hillside, its long antlers spearing the evening sky. It raised its head and stared back at the train. Then two dozen more trotted up over the crest of the hill and they all dashed away across the highlands.
Half an hour after leaving the station, the Atlas Mountains loomed along the eastern horizon, a jagged black shape against a violet sky. Kenan moved up the aisle to sit in the row behind Syfax. “Major? Want me to take a look around up there? See what we’re up against?”
“No, I want you take a stroll to the back of the train. Take a look around for anyone alone or out of place. Too young, too alert, too well dressed, too poorly dressed, anything. Make sure the governor doesn’t have any extra security looking over our shoulder.”
Kenan said, “You know, there’s an old woman with a cane just a few rows back who keeps staring at us. Could it be someone in disguise?”
The major shrugged. “Who knows? But for right now, you’re looking for gunmen, not old ladies with bad hips.”
“Yes, sir.” He stood up. “You’ll be here when I get back, right?”
Syfax thumbed his nose. “That depends on how long you take.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll be quick.”
The moment the rear door closed behind the corporal, Syfax was on his feet. He reversed his coat to hide its characteristic red beneath the charcoal gray lining, and then sauntered up the aisle and through the car’s front door. The space between the train cars was windy, loud, and cold, but a moment later he was in the warm, quiet confines of the next car. It was identical to the one he had just left. Even the number and scattering of passengers appeared the same. He walked the length of the car and stepped out its front door. Again, the whirling night howled around him as he crossed the gap and hugged the rear door of the first class car. Through the small window in the door, she could see Lady Sade’s companions sitting on long, plush couches drinking tea. He noted the woman in the hood as well as the younger lady with the feathers and the Espani in black. The children all sat together to one side, sitting quietly with hands folded in their laps. The two men with the bulging arms had taken up positions near the doors at either end of the car.
Syfax lingered only long enough to scan the interior of the car and then pushed away from the door, leapt lightly across the gap and re-entered the passenger car he had just left. He made his way back to his own car and his own seat and had some time to study the swiftly changing landscape before Kenan returned and sat in the row behind him. “Major, I didn’t see any obvious security back there. Very few people by themselves, and most of them seemed to be sleeping. I don’t think we’ll have any trouble.” He paused. “Did you reverse your coat?”
Syfax continued staring at the rippling waves of grass and the islands of trees dotting the highland meadows. “You were right about the person in the hood. It is Chaou.”
“What? You went up there? Without backup?”
“Just long enough to see her face. I doubt they plan to do anything on the train or in the Lower City. There are too many factors in play. The army, the Royal Guards, the foreign diplomats, and all the local police and marshals. Lady Sade might have a lot of powerful friends, but she can’t possibly be in control of everything, everywhere. Not yet. Nah, whatever they plan to do, they’ll do it in the Upper City where there are fewer people to interfere.”
“The Upper City?” Kenan asked. “I’ve never been in the upper half of Orossa. I’ve never been higher than the Shrine of the Mother.”
“Most people haven’t. Security is tighter than a drum. The Royal Guards take their jobs pretty seriously.”
“The Royal Guards.” Kenan leaned forward and spoke lower. “Is it true they still maintain the castes in the Upper City? Arranged marriages, family trees, secure bloodlines?”
“What mak
es you think they do?”
“Oh, come on, major, everyone’s heard the rumors.” His eyes lit up. “Have you ever been to the Upper City?”
“Twice.”
“And?”
“And the people looked like people. I didn’t stop to ask anyone if they were Imajeren or Imrad or whatever.”
Kenan leaned back. “My grandparents were Imrad, you know.”
“Lots of people’s grandparents were Imrad.” Syfax paused as a wide shadow lumbered into view beyond the front door of the car. “Hang on. We’ve got a visitor.”
The marshals eased into positions of sleepy disinterest, lounging and leaning like all of their fellow passengers. The door opened and one of the imposing guards from the first class car sauntered in with a frown etched into the creases of his very square and serious face. He moved down the aisle, squinting at every person and bag he passed. He lingered near the marshals only as long as anyone else and continued past without a word.
Syfax heard Kenan exhale and mutter, “That was closer than I’d like. He’s got a revolver holstered under his left arm.”
“The other one is probably armed, too. They look like ex-army.” Syfax peered up at the front door through his narrowed eyes. “Crap.”
The other guard entered the car and took up a rather stoic position in front of the door. His gaze swept over the rows of mostly empty seats and came to rest on the marshals.
Syfax muttered, “I think we’ve been made.”
“How can you tell?”
“Call it intuition, or the ability to see.” Syfax sat up and straightened his jacket, not bothering to look up as the second guard came down the aisle toward them. The sounds of additional footsteps told him that the first guard was coming up behind them. When both men were standing at the edges of the marshals’ seats, the major said, “Evening, fellas, how are you doing? Is this the tea service?”
Halcyon (The Complete Trilogy) Page 30
