Black hadn’t been so bored since she’d been a Warden, and since that particular stretch of her life didn’t stand up well under any sort of close scrutiny, she busied herself by searching through field manuals for useful information about the Troj.
“How long ago did that railroad thing happen?” Kane asked after a while. They were over the Pale Forest in the Bone Hills. Drifts of smoke wafted into the sky like pillars, and occasional reptilian fliers – smaller, wild cousins of the vampire’s Razorwings – soared into the rust red horizon. The earth beneath them was like aged paper, yellowed and cracked. The monotony of the hills was sometimes interrupted by deep canyons filled with caustic shadows. “I forget.”
“It was about ten years ago,” Ash said. She stood and looked out the window with Kane. She was so thin and small compared to him, or to anyone on the team, really, except for the diminutive Maur. It was difficult to believe she and Grissom shared the same father. The resemblance between them was plain in their facial features, but Ash was like a doll compared to the hulking half-Doj. “I hear they’ve considered trying it again.”
“That would be a mistake,” Ronan said. He sat reading The Art of War, which was such an unsurprising choice for him that Black almost called him out as a cliché. “It was a mistake the first time.”
“It wasn’t a bad idea,” Black said, and she believed that.
The Claw had wanted a physical joining between the more prominent city-states of the Alliance. Thorrn, Ath, Fane, Glaive, Seraph and Meldoar were all to be connected by the massive railroad, and if things went well they would have tried to connect fringe cities like Kalakkaii and Corinth, as well as smaller townships like Jade, Loss, Hask and Kreel. The trouble hadn’t just been the resources required, but the corrupt nature of the men who’d been put in charge, and their eagerness to twist the railroad operation to their own profitable ends. Ultimately, it was something of a surprise that more people hadn’t died constructing that portion of the railroad which had actually been completed, or that the entire scandal hadn’t caused more long-term damage to the Southern Claw.
“I’ve never ridden on a train,” Kane said. He looked out the window longingly. Black peeked out and saw tracks far below, mostly obscured by desert dust and overgrowth but still in sight. They looked like the bones of some vast and ancient snake.
“I have,” Black said quietly. She remembered it quite clearly, in fact. She and Cradden and Bradley, back before they all knew what they were going to become. Back before the world had gone to hell. It gave Danica a pang of sadness to think about it. It seemed like such a very long time ago.
“I don’t think I’ve ever even seen a train,” Kane added.
“Maur has seen a train,” he said. “From Meldoar to the mines. He used to work in the mines, pulling black diamonds from the deepest dark.”
“Wow…really?” Kane asked, broken from his reverie.
“No. He’s lying,” Maur said, meaning, of course, himself.
“Does that drive you crazy?” Grissom asked Black.
“No,” she laughed. “Lots of things do, but not Maur. He has more brains than any of us, I think.”
They flew on into the night. Purple fog covered the world like it burned. The tips of dead trees stood tall in the darkness like bone-colored spear tips.
It was cold inside the ship. There was no moon that night, and no stars. Only dull green thaumaturgic bulbs in the cockpit and the white shine of the control console illuminated the craft.
After a while, Black relieved Maur so the Gol could meditate. Black had learned quite a bit about his strange race during his time with the team: she’d never known, for example, that they didn’t sleep but meditated, and that they had no need for traditional forms of food because their artificial bodies were only capable of consuming liquids, so they processed protein and nutritional shakes which, in her opinion, smelled like dog food. She’d had dealings with the mercantile race before she’d met Maur – she’d always remember Tega Ramsey, the Southern Claw spy who’d arranged to get most of the team free when they were trapped in the vampire city-state of Krul – but Maur was unquestionably the most eccentric creature she’d ever met, of the Gol or any other race.
He was also a much more adept pilot than she was. Danica felt like she had to re-train herself every time she took the Darkhawk’s controls. When she’d been part of the Ath Militia and later The Revengers, Black had piloted or co-piloted troop transports and cargo ships, not smaller fighting vehicles. While the art of flying never really changed, the practicalities of piloting those different aircraft were entirely different. Even with the auto-pilot engaged, Black’s eyes burned at the dizzying number of settings and dials and gauges that had to be maintained. While none of that was difficult, per se, making the calculations for a smaller vessel was for some reason still difficult for her, in spite the fact the team had almost exclusively used the Darkhawk for over a year now. She personally thought they could use a larger vessel, particularly for longer voyages like this one, but there was only so much money to go around.
She thought about Cross. He’d literally barged right into her life, came out of nowhere and helped her save Cole, and the next thing they knew they were all captives fighting for their lives in the vampire city-state of Krul. For a time, she’d regarded him as little more than an obstacle. Someone else she had to kill.
And he could have killed me.
He’d spared her life for practical purposes, of course – Cross needed Lara Cole alive, and the only way he’d been able to preserve her life had been to spare Danica’s – but that hadn’t been his only chance to kill her. After the Battle of Karamanganji, when The Sleeper had been put down and everything had been set right, he’d had his chance.
I was responsible for the death of your friend. If our roles had been reversed, I would have killed you. Without hesitation, and without remorse.
She owed him her life.
Kane stepped up out of nowhere and startled her.
“How’s it going, Chief?” he asked.
“You probably shouldn’t call me that,” she said quietly. “Cross is still in charge.”
“Cross can be Chief next time,” Kane said with a smile. He took a drink from his canteen. “You know…we really need a coffee maker in this thing.”
“I’m sure Maur will get right on that,” Black said with a quiet laugh.
She stared into the night. The sky was so dark it was like they’d flown into an ink stain. The wind buffeted the tiny craft, and Black had to right their course to avoid the heavy turbulence.
She glanced sideways at Kane.
“What’s on your mind, Mike?”
“I don’t know,” he said.
“Well, you should work on that.”
He laughed.
“Bitch.”
“Dumb ass.”
“Are you two lovebirds done?” Ronan groaned. “Some of us are trying to sleep…”
“Feel free to lick me, Ronan,” Kane said with a grin. He looked back out the window. His face was half-lit in the light from the terminal. “You seem pretty calm, all things considered.”
His tone was uneven, and a bit dark. She knew he still regarded her with suspicion sometimes. She was frankly surprised he was amiable towards her at all, especially when Cross wasn’t around.
The three of them were the core of the group, having banded together after the Battle of Karamanganji. Something had happened to them in that battle, some bond that none of them could explain or even fully understand…but one thing that was always clear was that Cross was the glue that bound them together. He was the heart of the trio and the unquestioned leader of the team, and even though Danica sometimes wanted to smack him for his laid-back manner or his insistence on placing himself in danger she had profound respect for the warlock. She didn’t always understand what drove him, but she knew without him the group would never survive.
We’re running on your fuel right now, Eric, she thought. This is as much
about us getting you back as it is about finishing the damn mission.
“Should I panic, Mike?” she asked dryly. “Would that make you feel better?”
“Did it just get chilly in here?” he said.
Black gave him a look. He frowned, smiled, and shuddered.
The Darkhawk vibrated from more turbulence. She almost felt the night wind beyond the walls.
“I’m worried about him, too, you know,” she said.
I know you remember what it was like in Black Scar, she wanted to say. I do, too.
He was about to say something when the ship shook violently. Something clanged against the back of the hull, but it wasn’t ordinance, and the impact didn’t sound like a creature. It was as if a giant rock had struck them.
“What was that?” Kane asked.
The proximity alarm went off, a high-pitched whorl that sounded like the call of a mechanical raptor. The normally green lights on the console turned red.
Danica had to grip the wheel with both hands. The ship lurched starboard, and Black suspected the reason she had so much trouble with the controls was because the Darkhawk had picked up extra weight.
“Maur!” she shouted. “Get up here!”
“What the hell?!” Grissom shouted.
“Contact!” Ash yelled from the back of the ship.
Something hard slammed into the rear of the Darkhawk, and Danica fell forward into the dash. Her ribs burned with pain, and she barely threw her hand out in front of her face in time to keep her skull from cracking against the panel. The seatbelt held her in place, but Kane fell to the floor.
The Darkhawk spun out of control. Gauges flipped wildly as the engine pressure went berserk, and gauges whirled as the level of hydraulic fluid dropped rapidly. The turbine engines groaned, and the ship lost altitude.
“What the fuck hit us???!!!” she shouted.
It took all her strength to hold the controls steady – the ship suddenly handled like a two-ton brick. Her vision was blurry. Even though she’d managed to save her face from the panel she’d still banged her head hard against the back of her hand. She felt like a needle had been rammed through her eye.
Steam pushed out from joints in the wall-plating. The darkness ahead of the ship swelled. Black swore she saw something move outside of the vessel.
“Maur is here!” the Gol yelled. His head was uncovered, and his eyes look groggy. He’d been deep in meditation. Regardless, he grabbed the secondary controls with gloved hands and foisted himself around Kane and into the co-pilot’s seat. A button on the side of the chair made the seat descend far enough so he could stretch his feet down to the pedals. “The ship is going to crash!”
“Well that’s a little negative of you, isn’t it?!” Kane shouted.
“Land, now!” Ash shouted. “We’re being attacked by a Bloodshadow!”
“What the hell is a Bloodshadow!?” Kane yelled.
“Land, God damn it!” Grissom bellowed.
Black looked at Maur, who was so focused on getting the ship under control that he didn’t even seem to have heard the command.
Holding onto the controls was like paddling through syrup. Black’s arms ached from the effort of keeping the Darkhawk level.
“Maur?” she shouted.
“Yes,” the Gol nodded after a moment. “Land.”
Something came close to the Darkhawk. Whatever it was, it was so cold Danica’s breaths crystallized. A shadow passed over the ship, something vast and quick. Tendrils of red steam played on the windows.
With Maur assisting her, Black got the ship under control, and though they were losing hydraulics and power fluid they made a gentle descent. Ash came up and activated the nautascopes, which thankfully had infra-red capabilities. She peered into the metallic casing and turned the scope around.
“There’s a clear field next to a tree line up ahead,” she said. “I’ll mark the coordinates.”
Black sensed Ash’s spirit as he descended through the hull of the vessel like a flying fog. Her own spirit kept to the background, since the arcane mechanics of the Darkhawk didn’t react well when a mage’s spirit manifested too much power inside it.
“Maur sees the clearing.”
Ash’s spirit extended almost a mile ahead of them and took the shape of a phosphorescent web, a spectral network of pale firmaments that stretched between the trees and was visible even from a distance.
“The guns are ready if it comes back,” Ronan said from the gunnery chair.
“All right,” Danica said. Worry twisted in her gut. “Let’s land.”
ELEVEN
HIDES
They were on the ground minutes later, surprisingly without incident. The Bloodshadow left them alone, which wasn’t too surprising considering the undead avians only hunted other fliers who invaded their territory.
“I didn’t think there were any in this area,” Ash said as she strapped on her backpack. The night’s air was cold and the wind bit into their skin. They gathered their gear and set up a perimeter outside of the downed craft.
The night had fallen thick and deep. Layers of frost covered the ground, and the nearby trees rattled in the coarse wind and dropped chunks of ice.
The open space around the Darkhawk was mostly barren and cracked. Ancient train tracks ran through clear fields between the clusters of trees to the east and west, illuminated by the soft shine of halogen torches and fires in the distance.
“Wolftown?” Ronan asked as he secured his blades to his back.
“I didn’t think we were that close,” Black said.
“Maur confirms,” the Gol said as he clambered out of the ship. “Darkhawk is busted.”
“Shit,” Kane said.
“There goes almost a year’s worth of pay down the drain,” Black grumbled.
“We have to walk,” Kane growled. “How far are we from the site? We flew, what, not even a day?”
The six of them gathered everything they needed that was vital to finishing the mission. They had weapons, rations, clothing, blankets, some thaumturgy, and all of their intelligence material, including the maps. They gathered water and light sources – arcane lamps with 72-hour batteries – and made themselves ready to depart.
“So what do we do with the ship?” Ash asked. As usual, the witch was unarmed. She relied on her spirit and her giant brother for protection.
“Is there any chance we could come back?” Grissom asked. “You know…salvage it later…”
“No,” Ronan said. Kane gave him a look. Danica wasn’t sure if it was because Kane didn’t like his answer, or if he was warning the swordsman not to overstep his bounds.
“Torch it,” Black said, and she nodded to Grissom.
Maur cursed under his breath. His hood was drawn tight, and he pulled his face-wrap up and secured a bandolier of grenades around his small chest. Black thought his dark red cloak and armor made him look like a walking drop of blood. The Gol hopped down from the open port door, turned, and briefly touched the hull. Then he shuffled off with the rest of the team as they made their way south and east, towards the distant flames.
Grissom cast a hex grenade into the Darkhawk when they were all safely away. The muffled explosion would be impossible to hear beyond a few hundred yards, but the sparks flew quickly and ignited the combustible interior of the ship. The metal wouldn’t burn, but before long the vessel would be gutted and hollow, leaving none of the ship’s weapons or other tech behind for scavengers or Ebon Cities scouts.
Dark flames curled into the thick night. Dull thuds sounded from within the ruined aircraft as small explosives detonated.
They made their way across open land, leaving the shell of their hard-earned vessel behind them.
The trek across the plains was quiet, cold, and long. Shadows peeled away from the dull blue shine of the lamps, and their feet crushed cold clumps of dust. The world around them was pitch black except for the fires of Wolftown, which were still off in the distance.
“Is this�
��you know, wise?” Kane asked. “To broadcast our position like this?”
“No,” Ronan said. “But I’m not a huge fan of wandering around in the dark.”
“Pansy,” Grissom laughed.
“There isn’t much we could do to hide out here, in any case,” Ash said as they walked. She and Maur were at the center of the party, while Black, Ronan and Kane led the way. Grissom watched their tail, and carried the largest lamp.
Black felt sure she heard the echo of lost voices all around them. The plains were only a few miles wide between the stretches of dark forest, but there in the frozen dark they felt as vast as an ocean.
The trees that blocked off the way into Wolftown looked more like jagged towers, and the few hills in their path were cracked and wide. Everything to the east and west was drenched in darkness. The dull flames of the burning Darkhawk had already faded to a distant haze.
“What do you mean, Sis?” Grissom asked.
“She means Bloodwolves hunt by scent, not sight,” Black said from her position at the front. She was armed with an H&K G36C, a weapon she normally didn’t carry. She had the vaguest memory of Kane handing it to her, but she couldn’t recall when. Her katars were strapped to her back on the outside of her armored coat, and she had a thick wool scarf wound around her neck. Lara had knit it for her several years ago.
And to think that all I wanted to do was run around with you and get into trouble for the rest of my life, Danica thought. What went wrong, Lara? What the hell did I do?
It had been over two years since they’d split up, and Danica had barely seen her ex-flame since. Apart from a handful of dates, she’d had nothing serious in her life in the love department, and for the moment she was prepared to leave it that way.
She considered her celibacy another bad habit she’d gotten from Cross, who admitted to having been something of a whoremonger before he’d recruited Black and Kane and formed the mercenary team. Now she knew he got about as much action as a wax statue. Kane was the same way – he’d never gotten over losing Ekko, and Black was fairly certain he’d never bothered with the multitude of whorehouses in Thornn.
Soulrazor (Blood Skies, Book 3) Page 12
