Whispers of the Skyborne (Devices of War Book 3)

by S. M. Blooding

  She groaned and wailed.

  The menagerie creatures went eerily silent.

  A brief stillness through the soles of my boots.

  A calm at the yoke.

  “There,” I breathed.

  “Found it,” she whispered back.

  Together we guided the Layal up the twisting streams of wind as rain attacked the glass dome. I felt for shudders, listened for groans.

  The Layal shivered as if in excitement.

  “Wings!” Jamilah commanded.

  They released with a snapping pop that rippled through the body of the Layal as we shot up and out of the raging storm.

  Stars stared down on us in a dusty, milky spectacle, the scarred red surface of Kel’mar mocking our brilliance.

  I leveled our course and swiveled toward Jamilah.

  She locked and released the yoke and fell back in her chair with a chuckle as she stared through the starlit dome. She paused, then chuckled again.

  The rest of the crew followed suit, shaking hands and clapping each other on the back.

  Two people threw up along the back wall.

  “We did it, Synn,” Jamilah whispered. Her dark gaze grabbed hold of mine as a fierce anger filled her features. “Revenge will be ours.”

  I took in a deep breath. Yes. It would.

  Ino City: Oki

  OKI, SYNN’S OLDER SISTER AND the current leader of Ino City, stepped off the elevator platform onto the command floor. The turquoise tile gleamed under the light cascading from the undulating belly of Ino’s lethara. It’s jellyfish skin glowed with yellows and slight bursts of blues as it shifted high above her. His smell was thicker here, but instead of turning her belly as it did others, it imbued her with a sense of familiarity and reassurance.

  She needed that. Three months ago, her harebrained brother had taken possession of the entire planet, tipping it on its side, shaking everything out. He’d replaced leadership. He’d taken down two reigning powers at the same time like a big, powerful, overbearing, air-infected, pea-brained boy.

  Then, he’d disappeared, leaving the world he’d flipped on its head wondering what in the love of dirt they were going to do.

  That left her to deal with their power hungry mother.

  Oki understood why Synn hid. As a boy, anytime Synn had been struck or hurt, he retreated. Like when Mother told the world she wouldn’t claim him as her son. He hadn’t realized just how lucky he was at the time. Oki did, but that hadn’t mattered. Synn had disappeared onto the Yussra Samma for the remaining few days he’d been in port.

  Their father had been a great leader—the greatest leader—of the air tribes, ruling over a vast tribe of over fifty large sailing air ships. Their mother was the greatest leader of the water tribes. The two only met when the ice broke and once again during the two-year summer for supplies. Those were the only times their children got to see each other.

  Oki, Ryo, and Makoto had remained in Ino City, claimed by their mother. Once they came of age, they’d gained the Ino Mark—fire.

  Synn and Zara had lived with their father on the Samma’s, discarded by their mother. Synn had burst into a mixed Mark, something that wasn’t accepted by the Greater Families. Some saw his lava lightning as a disgrace. Others as a bright new era. Zara, on the other hand, had developed normally. Lightning. The El’Asim power.

  Oki’s heart twinged. Zara had died that fateful day when Synn had lost his tribe. She’d never talk to her sister again, would never see her, or laugh at each other. They’d never been close. Their mother had made sure of that. However, they could have been if they’d had more time.

  Oki didn’t have time to worry about that. She had a city to run and a mother to prove wrong.

  Ino Nami, their mother, knew—she didn’t think. She knew— Oki would fail. Nothing Oki did was good enough. Her mother would always be the better leader. She’d always know how to do things better, would always understand people’s motives better, would always understand how to manipulate people.

  Oki wasn’t interested in manipulating people. She wanted to give them a better sense of freedom.

  That was the reason Ino Nami thought Oki would fail. She was still young and believed in people.

  Where was Synn? Oki wanted to comfort him and to remove his head from his butt at the same time. He’d set this up. He’d pushed her and others to step up. And then he’d ran away. Like a boy.

  Stars. She needed her brother, probably more than he ever imagined. He’d always been the reckless one. She’d always been the sensible one. But for one moment during the Games and the signing of the treaty, she honestly thought he was being sensible.

  She realized too late that he hadn’t been. Yes. It had been a great idea to create a League of Cities, to combine all the greater tribes with the lesser tribes and to end the reigns of the Great Families and of the Hands of Tarot.

  But he hadn’t thought things through. Someone had killed his tribe, his family. Someone had done so in front of his eyes. That was personal.

  There were only two people it could be. Ino Nami or Nix.

  But Nix, Queen of Wands, had gotten what she’d wanted, in a way. Ino Nami, though, hadn’t. She’d lost control of power and that’s the only thing she ever thought about.

  Oki pushed her shoulders back, her small steps clipped. Tradition mandated she wore the kimono, but she envied her brother’s people. Their women were able to wear clothing that allowed for movement.

  As the new ruler, surely she could bring about a change in clothing as well.

  What was she thinking? Maybe her mother was right. Of all the things to be thinking about, wardrobe standards were substantially low on the list.

  The command area was vast, taking up much of the floor. Metal consoles stood like alien sentries in the otherwise organic room. The letharan tendril columns were thickest here, so close to the underbelly of the jellyfish’s body. People of obvious Ino origin, with their almond-shaped dark eyes, black hair, and tanned skin, manned each station.

  “Akemi,” Oki called when she was within several steps of the communication console.

  The young woman looked up, her almond-shaped eyes unfocused, her hand on her headset. She held up a finger. Blinking several times, her brown gaze flickered across the narrow table space of her station. She nodded, paused, then nodded again, typing something on the set of keys in front of her. With a sigh, she removed her headset and looked up. “Ino Oki, what do you wish?”

  Oki gritted her teeth. Akemi supported her mother. She was one of the many people Oki had to watch herself around. “I need to get a message to my brother and to the League of Cities.”

  The communications technician bowed her head. “Neither are within range and have been so for many months.”

  “I am aware. However, I would request you try again.”

  Akemi’s eye twitched and her lips tightened minutely. She fingered the silver jellyfish ring on her right pointer finger. “Of course, Ino Oki. What is the message?”

  Oki had to be careful of what she said. Her mother had more loyalties that Oki did. “Only that it is time to meet. It has been too long.”

  Akemi gave a deep nod and put her headset back on. She typed on a keyboard beside her, then typed the message Oki had requested.

  Oki clapped her lips tight. She had no doubt Akemi had just signaled her mother somehow.

  As if on cue, Ino Nami appeared from the hallway, her small steps slow and controlled, her hands clasped demurely in front of her abdomen, her age-ravaged face set in a hard mask. She wore a pale turquoise kimono with a darker turquoise sash.

  Oki took in a deep breath for patience. The printer buzzed then spat out a continuous sheet of paper. Oki frowned, picking it up and reading it. Her brother’s signal had been picked up. Oki’s heart raced. “Tama,” she said softly to the radar technician beside her.

  He raised his head and whispered, “Yes, Ino Oki.”

  “Can you confirm this report?”

  He glanced
at it and a bare hint of a smile touched his middle-aged eyes. “Yes, Ino Oki. He is close. He is outside of radar range, but we have been picking him up for several minutes now.”

  “Can you get a message to him through the old channels?”

  “Of course.” His dark eyes lit up. “Be careful.”

  “Do you want to know what the message is?”

  His wizened eyes crinkled. “Forgive me. I assumed you wanted to tell him to come.”

  Oki huffed through a smile, keeping her reaction as minor and soft as possible. She hadn’t realized she was so transparent.

  “Tread softly until he arrives, little Oki,” he whispered, his attention returned to his screen. He took the report nonchalantly and tucked it away on the small section of desk between him and his screen. “Ino Nami will strike soon.”

  Oki nodded so minutely, the trinkets of her silver letharan hair bobbles that defined her rank didn’t jingle.

  “Daughter,” Ino Nami said quietly, “might I have a word in private?”

  Oki could no longer ignore her mother. With a shoulder-setting sigh, she applied a pleasant expression to her lips and gave her mother the attention the woman demanded. “What do you wish speak of, Mother?”

  Ino Nami’s face softened around the eyes and mouth.

  Oki straightened her shoulders, bracing for impact.

  “I only wish to know what you seek to speak to your brother about.”

  Narrowing her eyes, Oki chose her words carefully. “The League of Cities was instituted three months ago and since then, we have held no councils, we have discussed nothing. It is simply time to reconvene and assess what our intentions are.”

  “I believe your brother stated his intentions when he disappeared.”

  “In that, you are wrong,” Oki said as firmly and without excess emotion as she could. She needed to treat her mother delicately, but at the same time, she was the ruler of Ino City. She could not rule fearing her mother. “His family, his tribe was shot down in front of him. He lost thousands of tribal members that day, Mother. He is in mourning.”

  “He is a leader. He does not have the luxury of grief.”

  “If he were under your tutelage, you are correct. Father was a different kind of leader and, so, taught him differently.”

  Ino Nami blinked slowly, her expression sharply pleasant. “A better one?”

  “A warmer one.” Oki’s heart stilled and stuttered, but she kept her face cool, her gaze cold. “Do you wish me to convey a message to your son?”

  “My son.” Ino Nami’s eyes deadened as she slid her gaze away. “If he were my son, he would be a stronger man, a stronger leader. All he has is a powerful Mark.”

  Her mother’s love of power never ceased to amaze Oki. “He is more than just a Mark.”

  “I doubt that.” Ino Nami flattened her lips in an uncharacteristic showing of her darker emotions. “He allowed a tribe we had never heard of to become leader of his great league instead of taking up the reins of power for himself.”

  That move had brought the lesser tribes to the League’s table. That had shown them that Synn wasn’t in it for the power. He was there only to better his world. Neira’s people were unknown to the Great Families, but were renowned in the lesser tribes. From everything Oki had seen, Synn had only been doing what felt right. Oki doubted he even realized just how powerful a play it had been to give power to Neira. Reckless versus sensible.

  But Oki would never get her mother to see that in him. “He sees the needs of the people before his lust for power.” Oki raised her chin. “Which is refreshing.”

  Ino Nami’s dark gaze turned frigid. “The world doesn’t have the luxury of refreshing ideals.”

  Oki agreed. However, the world needed change. The only ones who didn’t seem to require it were the remaining Great Families; Ino, Shankara, and LeBlanc. Three of the original seven as the only surviving tribes. What a sad and brutal reminder of the tyranny they had all grown used to. “What do you want, Mother? I am busy.”

  “Oki.” Ino Nami’s lips twisted in disdain.

  A chill ripped its way down Oki’s spine. All formal pretenses left with the simplified version of her name, stripped of Family name, of title.

  “A change is exactly what this world needs.”

  Hands gripped Oki’s arms, dragging her backward. Surprise swarmed over her as horror crashed upon her face, stripping it of color. “Mother, what are you doing?”

  Ino Nami tipped her head to the side, her silver letharan baubles twinkling in her large bun. “What I should have done years ago. You are no true daughter of mine.”

  What? No. She would never do something so blatant, so obvious. “Mother!”

  “I am not your mother.” Ino Nami stepped forward. “You are the result of a tainted mating. That I kept you alive this long should be of remark.”

  Tainted mating? Was she talking about the Great Families’ antiquated views of mixing the bloodlines? They’d overcome that generations ago.

  “I have only one son, blood whore.”

  Oki couldn’t believe her words. First, that her mother would say such things. Second, that she would go to these lengths.

  “Makoto has always been my true heir.” A slow smile slithered across Ino Nami’s wrinkled lips. “And now, we can finally be done with pretenses. Take her to her cell. She will be executed in the morning.”

  “No!” Oki fought the guards dragging her away. Her mother wouldn’t do this. She couldn’t. “Mother, please!”

  With a flick of her wrist, Ino Nami turned and walked away, sealing Oki’s fate.

  BACK IN THE SKY, I and my fleet continued our test run.

  “The Basilah is ready, sir,” a young female said behind me.

  The Khayal Basilah was captained by my brother, Ryo, who had been on the Yussra Samma with our sister, Zara, the day I’d lost my tribe. I’d managed to save him from the falling ship, pulling him through the flames, but he’d been badly burned. We hadn’t known if he’d last the night, but somehow, miraculously, he had. He had been on his feet for about a week now. Too soon to overexert himself, but I could only imagine what it had been like for him. He needed to be out of bed. He needed to be doing something.

  And we needed him on that ship, the Basilah. Our warship.

  We would not be taken by surprise again.

  I had six ships in my new fleet. Where the Samma’s had comfortably housed approximately eighty people, the Khayals housed two hundred. The Samma’s only form of weapons had been the lightning cannons, but we’d had to be careful how many we put on our hulls as they would weigh and slow the ship down. The Khayals had housed planes of various designs. The Samma’s had been magnificent, beautiful, and slow. The Khayals were fast, large, but handled relatively tightly.

  “The Maizah is in place, sir,” the female said.

  Our communications vessel. My father had fashioned his fleet to have all the same equipment, provide the same services. Each Samma was communications. Each Samma was a defense vessel. Each Samma carried a family—men, women, children, young and old.

  We currently had no children.

  They’d been killed three months prior.

  And those who fled the other tribes had left their families safely behind.

  The mission, or at least, the focus of the mission, was to test our newest weapon. The Umira Nuru.

  Haji had been my best friend since the time we’d met as small children. He’d lost his tribe the day I’d lost my father and gained my Mark. Had it only been months before?

  In that time, however, people had flocked to him in much the same way they were joining me. He, however, was a land leader, intent on regaining the lands he’d lost to the Han. He’d created large land-war machines that were currently housed in the belly of the Layal.

  That was the mission, to test the latest land walker and to work on our ground maneuvers. A vessel as large as the Layal was difficult to handle in the air where the currents could toss her about. We would hav
e to take her close enough to the land to kill us.

  But Haji needed mobility and I needed his land forces. I wasn’t blind and I wasn’t dumb. I might need that flexibility. Sooner rather than later.

  I was watching other things as well. Ryo’s health and emotional state. My crew’s aptitude. The true agility of the fleet. The Khayals were huge. I had my concerns.

  I tipped my head at Jamilah and clucked my tongue.

  She raised an eyebrow and sat forward. “Ghaz, how far to the drop point?”

  Ghaz didn’t respond immediately.

  I frowned over my shoulder, peering between my chair and Jamilah’s to see what the holdup was.

  Ghaz stood at the map table, her dark hair pulled back in a tight braid, giving her angular features a stark appearance, and conferred with someone who couldn’t be much more than a boy.

  “The Basilah asks why we’re not moving, sayyd,” the man at the communications console said in a gruff tone.

  “Tell him to be patient,” Jamilah said. “Ghaz, we can’t go anywhere without a heading. You have the entire El’Asim Fleet awaiting your direction.”

  I could have told them the heading. I’d been there before, but this wasn’t about me, or my prowess. We had to practice working as a team, which was difficult as most of us had never met each other before the games.

  I released a puff of breath and swiveled my chair.

  The three people around the navigation table at the end of the peninsula of controls glanced up. Their brows furrowed together, their shoulders tightened. An urgency filled their whispers.

  Jamilah raised her eyebrows, her lips flat, and crossed her arms over her chest as she leaned back in her chair.

  Ghaz looked up, her dark eyes narrowed with worry as she fiddled with her thumb. “Sayyd, I regret to inform you that based on the information you provided, we’re unable to provide a proper heading.”

  I stood and walked to the navigation table.

  The other two people on either side of Ghaz flinched and stepped aside.

  The past three months hadn’t been kind to them. I had been…well, my Marks were controlled by emotion and I hadn’t been in control of emotions. Several people had burn scars where my Mark had found them.