Within the Sanctuary of Wings

by Marie Brennan

  After that, though, there were still some hours in which I might have slept. I passed them instead in Suhail’s arms, trembling with nerves. “I am so sorry,” I murmured, knowing the words were laughably inadequate. “I should not have brought you here.”

  His arms tightened around me. “To Imsali?”

  “Or the Mrtyahaima.”

  “Don’t be absurd,” he said lightly. “I wanted to come—well, not quite as much as you did, because that would be difficult to equal. But I certainly would not have sent you off without me. And if you had not come, none of this would have happened, good or bad.”

  “But you are a hostage now, because of me. I should have sent you back across the col. Back to Vidwatha, where you could warn someone—”

  This time the pressure of his arms was stronger. “Don’t even think of it. No force in the world could have persuaded me to leave you. Not when I had just found you again.”

  His words silenced me for a time. It was bravado to say I would have sent him away; I could no more have parted from him than he from me.

  But the choice, in the end, might not belong to either of us.

  “What if I don’t succeed?” I whispered. “What if—”

  Suhail kissed the top of my head. “You’ll do very well. There is no one in the world better suited to this than you.”

  A bitter, frightened laugh shook my body. “True. But only because there is no other human in the world who speaks their language.”

  “That is not all of it—though I’ll grant that it’s a necessary precondition. But Isabella … you have thrown yourself into the thick of things before. You are fearless. Not in the sense that you feel no fear; I know better than to think you that foolish. But you do not let it hold you back, and there is power in that. You will hurl yourself in front of that caeliger and refuse to accept anything less than cooperation, and you will bend whoever has come to your will. I believe this, with all my heart.”

  We lay in silence again, while I tried to ensure I could speak without my voice wavering too badly. When it was steady at last, I said, “All the same. I want you and Thu both to be prepared to do … whatever you have to.” Defend yourselves, I thought. Run away. Whatever it took. I had lost one husband in the mountains; I would not lose another.

  “We will,” Suhail promised. “Now sleep.”

  Perhaps I did, a little. But my memory is of an all-too-short time at his side, before Suhail rose for his dawn prayer and Kahhe came to say it was time.

  * * *

  The worst part was the waiting.

  I laid my sign out in the meadow we had chosen, just below the point at which the greenery of spring thinned out to the barren rock of the upper slopes. It was an enormous sheet made of yak-wool blankets hastily stitched together, a square of suspiciously regular brown, with a huge white star painted in its center—a shape snow was unlikely to melt into. Below that I had written “LAND HERE” in the largest letters the space allowed, but I could not be certain anyone would be able to read them from the air.

  There were so many things I could not be certain of. What if they did not enter between Gyaptse and Cheja? There were other cols, or the river gorge through which the first caeligers had passed. I had no idea when the caeliger was coming; if its base was very far away, they might not return today, or even tomorrow. We might sit out here for a week without anything happening—and then I would wonder whether I should stay, or make my dash for the outside world in the hope of preventing more flights. (How I might do that, I could not even begin to guess.) They might overlook my sign, or crash in attempting to land, or see movement nearby and rake the ground with their rifles before touching down.

  I had all the time in the world to think up one disaster scenario after another, for the caeliger did not come at dawn, nor at noon. The only mercy of this was that waiting dulled the edge of my fear, which cannot remain sharp for so long without something to hone it. The whetstone finally went to work in the early afternoon, when movement at the col drew my gaze. The caeliger had returned, and this time it looked like it would succeed in clearing the pass.

  My lips formed soundless prayers. Though ordinarily I devote little attention to religion, in that moment I begged for the mercy of any deity that might care to listen, from the Lord of my childhood Assembly-House visits to the sun the Draconeans worshipped.

  The caeliger almost scraped the snow of the col; I think a downdraft must have pushed it unexpectedly to earth. But then it shot forward at a slant, as if it were skiing down the western slope, and attained the free air of the Sanctuary.

  A pole lay on the ground at my side. I seized it and, with all the strength in my arms, began to wave its banner back and forth: a piece of yak wool, the brightest blue the limited dye palette of Draconean fabrics could offer. Surely they would have scouts looking below; they must see this movement, a spot of unusual colour against the expected hues of spring, and shapes too regular for nature. I had not intended to speak, knowing my voice would be lost before it reached so high, but holding back proved impossible; I shouted at the top of my lungs, begging them to see me.

  And the caeliger flew on. It soared past me and my increasingly desperate cries, dropping altitude as it went, until it was nearly on a level with me. Then it began to turn, and I realized it was simply preparing its approach. I ran for the edge of the meadow, flagpole in hand, to get out of their way.

  I did not choose my direction at random. The surrounding terrain afforded little in the way of concealment for Draconeans; even with their spring-grey scales helping them to blend in, the odds of them being spotted from above were too great. But there was a little hollow where one could crouch, and Ruzt was there. If matters here went badly, she would break cover and relay a warning to the rest of her people. I laid my flagpole down near her, exerting all my will not to look at the hollow, and waited.

  The landing of the caeliger was a lengthy enough process that I had time to thank any deity who might be listening that we had developed synthetic dragonbone. Had my people landed in something obviously assembled from pieces of dead dragons … it did not bear thinking about. Someday we would explain that entire matter to the Draconeans, but not that day.

  Shouts were coming from the caeliger, but at this close proximity the noise of the engine was too loud for me to make out any words. Men swarmed in the gondola—more men than our vessels had carried from Vidwatha to Tser-nga—carrying out the work necessary to bring it firmly to earth. I knew enough of such operations to be sure they were not quite done when one of the crew flung himself over the edge of the gondola, staggered on the thin spring grass, and set off toward me at a run. “Isabella!”

  It was my brother Andrew, whom I had left behind in Vidwatha nearly a year before. We collided in the middle of the meadow, Andrew enveloping me in a hug so tremendous, I thought he might re-injure the ribs I had cracked crossing the Cheja Glacier. He was laughing hysterically, as well he might: it was clear that Tom and Lieutenant Chendley had made it back to the lowlands and the army there, and so Andrew had believed me dead.

  Our collision swung me around so that I could not see what was going on at the caeliger. As soon as I could, I wriggled free of my brother’s embrace so I could turn to look. Under ordinary circumstances I would have been delighted to stay where I was, for each reunion did more to strengthen me than any medicine … but I could not forget the burden of expectation that lay upon me.

  Behind me, the caeliger was being staked to the ground. The number of men aboard made me certain their point of most recent departure was a good deal closer than Vidwatha. Hlamtse Rong, perhaps, or some locale even more remote, where the Tser-zhag were unlikely to notice them. Close enough that all they need do was get the caeliger up and over the col, whereupon they could seek a landing on the far side.

  A man in winter uniform was standing not far away, looking as though he knew he ought to order Andrew to release me at once and behave as befitted a soldier, but was reluctant to disrupt our
moment of happiness. When he lifted his goggles, I recognized him as Colonel Dorson, the fellow who commanded the caeliger base in Vidwatha. “Dear God, Lady Trent,” he said when I faced him. “How can you possibly be alive?”

  “Did the locals rescue you?” Andrew said. He still held my arm—as if, were he to release me, I might vanish in a puff of smoke.

  I gave him a sharp glance. “What do you know about them?”

  “The locals? Nothing, really.”

  Dorson intervened, clearly trying to regain some kind of command over the situation. “The original scouting flight saw houses. They aren’t Tser-zhag, are they? All our reports say this is beyond the edge of the territory controlled by Tser-nga.”

  “It is well beyond their control,” I said firmly. “In fact, the people here have been cut off from outside contact for a very long time. They—”

  Andrew crowed in delight, throwing his arm around my shoulder. “You found a hidden mountain kingdom! Is it like the ones in the legends? Is there a palace of gold around here somewhere?”

  He turned as if to look for a palace of gold, which made me very worried that he might see Ruzt instead. Fortunately for me, Dorson snapped out a sharp reprimand: “Captain Hendemore!”

  My brother whipped back to face his commanding officer, startled almost to the point of saluting. “Sorry, sir. It’s just—my God. She’s alive!”

  “I can see that,” Dorson said.

  A sudden thought came to me, strong enough that it diverted me from my own course. I clutched at Andrew’s hand. “Tom. Where is he?”

  Andrew looked about as if expecting Tom to materialize at his elbow. “That’s odd. Why hasn’t he—”

  Dorson coughed. “I’m afraid Sir Thomas is still asleep.”

  “Asleep?” I echoed, staring. Then I remembered our own flight from Vidwatha. “Dear God. The laudanum.”

  “We had to dose him pretty strongly,” Andrew said, looking embarrassed. “But he insisted. Said your husband and that Yelangese fellow were out here looking for your body, and that on his own he’d have a better chance of scaling the pass from this side. He was awake for the flight yesterday, but two days in a row seems to have done him in.”

  Sure enough, Tom was curled up beneath several blankets in one end of the gondola. He was not, as Dorson had claimed, asleep; he was merely thoroughly fuddled. “Tom,” I said, crouching in front of him. “Tom, wake up.”

  Andrew leaned over the edge of the gondola. “Look who we found, Wilker! No need to search for her body; she’s been kind enough to bring it to you, alive and well.”

  I knew my brother’s lighthearted tone was a mask for his feelings. Tom’s response was to shake his head. His words more than a little slurred, he said, “I may need opium to ride in this infernal thing, but I refuse to become the sort of opium-eater who converses with his delusions.”

  “I am not a delusion,” I said. It did not come out quite as tartly as I wished, for the rejoinder stuck a little in my throat. I could see a gleam at the corner of Tom’s eye, threatening to fall. “A delusion would not tell you that she has solved the puzzle of that plaster cast—you know the one I mean. And if you get up, you will soon have a chance to see the solution with your own eyes.”

  This roused Tom enough for him to lift his head. “Actually, she might say that. But—” His mouth wavered. “But she would not look like ragged hell when she said it. Isabella—”

  “It is me,” I assured him. Then he came surging up out of his blankets to throw his arms around me; and I did not care how many soldiers were looking on, or whether this might renew any rumours about the two of us. I was coming to realize that after a winter isolated among Draconeans, it would take a very long time before I was tired of being embraced by those I loved.

  Before we separated, though, I whispered quietly in his ear. “Gather your wits as fast as you can. Suhail and Thu are here, but their safety depends on our keeping the peace.”

  He stared at me as I drew back, but I dared not say any more. Colonel Dorson was waiting with thinly concealed impatience as I climbed out of the gondola once more, leaving Tom to pull himself together. “I imagine you have a hell of a story to tell, Lady Trent.”

  “I do indeed, Colonel. But before I do, I must ask: what are your intentions here?”

  Clearly this was not the direction Dorson had expected our conversation to take. “That is a military matter, Lady Trent. I am very glad to see you alive, but I must remind you that your status as a scientist, or even as a peer of the realm, does not give you the authority to inquire after such things.”

  My mouth was very dry. “Ah, but I am not asking as a peer of Scirland, nor even as a scientist. I am asking as the appointed emissary of—of a foreign nation.”

  Andrew’s arm dropped from my shoulder. He and Dorson were not the only ones staring at me; by now the caeliger was fully secured, and the men from it were watching this exchange with interest. To my surprise, a number of them were Yelangese. Khiam Siu? They must be; only our rebel allies would be here, walking free in the midst of a military expedition.

  Their presence only furthered my suspicions. “Let me guess: you are looking for an aerial route by which to invade Yelang. No—something more than that. Our caeligers cannot traverse these mountains so easily that overleaping the whole mass in one step would be feasible, not by anything other than the most lightly manned craft.” The Sanctuary stretched out before us, the peak of Anshakkar shining in its center. My mouth kept working, taking input but no caution from my brain. “You want to use this as a base. It lies beyond Tser-zhag authority, and is unknown to the outside world; if you could establish yourselves here, then you could mount patrols or military excursions at will. It would allow you to control this entire region.”

  “Well, yes,” Andrew said, as if he saw no point in denial.

  “Captain Hendemore.” This time Andrew did salute, but Dorson was no longer paying attention to him. “I see the keenness of your intellect is not exaggerated, Lady Trent. But what in God’s name do you mean, calling yourself the emissary of a foreign nation? Are you talking about whatever yak-herders live here? I hardly think they can call themselves a nation, and I fail to see why they would need to appoint anybody to speak on their behalf. Or are you working for the Tser-zhag king?”

  I wondered how much he knew about my actions in Bayembe, when I had, not entirely on purpose, undermined our colony there. At the time it had been a great scandal (I was even accused of treason), but I had won enough acclaim in subsequent years that not everyone remembered that incident. I said, “This has nothing to do with Tser-nga, except insofar as they have a neighbour they are not aware of. My purpose here today is to prevent a conflict which would be detrimental in the extreme to both this land and our own. I have done more than survive, Colonel; I have made a discovery of such magnitude as to cast all my previous work into insignificance by comparison. Scirland has the opportunity to share that discovery with the world—to establish our pre-eminence in ways other than military, which can only be to our benefit.”

  My declaration aroused a great deal of curiosity, which was as I had hoped. Dorson, however, remained skeptical. “Do you mean that carcass Sir Thomas claimed to have found in the mountains? If it is as he described, then I suppose it is of interest to scientific types—a new sort of dragon, one we didn’t think really existed. But I fail to see what relevance that has for our situation here.”

  A glance over my shoulder revealed that Tom was on his feet, though holding on to the edge of the gondola as if it might be necessary to his continued verticality. I should have liked for him to be more steady, but I did not think I could delay any further.

  I made myself smile, as if I had no fear in the world, only excitement for the news I bore. “It is far more than that, Colonel. May I have your word that your men will hold their fire?” Each of them bore a rifle, and while they had not unslung them and readied them for use, I was certain they could do so with great speed.

>   Dorson tensed at my words. “Lady Trent, asking a military man to hold his fire only confirms for him that there may be a reason to shoot.”

  “The people of the Sanctuary have no weapons to match yours,” I assured him. “I only wish to forestall any misunderstanding that might result in needless bloodshed. If you please?”

  A tense silence ensued. I dared not look away from Dorson, though I knew Andrew was staring at me, and I was desperately curious whether Tom had guessed my meaning. Finally Dorson said, “Very well, Lady Trent. Men, hold your fire—for now.”

  It was the best I could hope for. Now I spared another glance at Tom, and my grin, though still nervous, was also sincere. “This,” I promised my colleague, “is also not a delusion.”

  Then I addressed them all, in ringing tones. “What we found in the col was more than merely another kind of dragon. It was the sad remains of one of the people of this valley.” Turning, I called out in Draconean, “Ruzt, please stand up.”

  NINETEEN

  More introductions—Tom’s imagination—Engine malfunction—A good omen for the Khiam Siu—Distractions—Giat Jip-hau and the elders

  Ruzt had volunteered herself for this duty because she was more comfortable around humans than any other Draconean save possibly Kahhe, and I had accepted her offer because I trusted her more than any other Draconean, Kahhe included. But we both knew that if anything went wrong in that first moment, she would be the one who took the brunt of it, and I could not breathe as she stood up.

  Dorson’s men did not fire. Andrew swore as imaginatively as any sailor, and the colonel did not reprimand him. Ruzt, to my undying astonishment, made her very best mimicry of the curtsey I had given to the elders when I departed from their council, which I had explained to her was a gesture of politeness. I do not think anyone else realized what her movement was supposed to be.