Friendly Fire

by Dale Lucas

  “Remaught?” Raek asked. “Sparks, we didn’t give that guy enough credit!”

  They were probably ten feet off the ground, Ard’s legs pumping as though trying to swim through the air. He’d forgotten how disorienting and frustrating it was to hang suspended without any hint of gravity.

  Now upside down, facing west toward the harbor, Ard saw more than a dozen mounted figures cresting the steep trail and riding out to meet them. He didn’t need to see them upright to recognize the wool uniforms and helmets.

  “Remaught didn’t plant the mine,” Ard shouted to Raek. “The Regulators did it. They knew we were coming.”

  “Flames!” Raek twisted in the air to see the horsemen Ard had just announced.

  A gunshot pealed, and Ard saw the ball enter the Drift cloud. The shot went wide, exiting the detonated area just above their heads.

  “We’re sitting ducks!” Raek called, sun beating down on his bald head, dark skin glistening. “We’ve got to get our feet back on the ground.”

  Even if they could, exiting the Drift cloud now would put them face-to-face with an armed Regulation patrol. Perhaps they could flee back into the slums. Nope. From his spot hovering above the road, Ard saw four of Remaught’s goons riding toward them.

  “I thought you said this ruse was going to be low risk,” Raek said, also noticing the two groups closing on their position.

  “Did I? You’re putting words in my mouth,” Ard said. “How long until this detonation burns out?” He knew there was no way to know exactly. A standard Drift Grit blast could last up to ten minutes, depending on the quality of the bones that the dragon had digested. Raek would make a more educated guess than him.

  Raek sniffed the discolored air. “There was Prolonging Grit mixed in with that detonation,” he said. “We could be adrift for a while.”

  There was another gunshot, this one passing below their feet. Ard didn’t know which side had fired.

  “What else have you got on that sash?” Ard asked.

  “More Barrier Grit.” Raek studied his chest to take stock. “And a couple of bolts of Drift Grit.” He chuckled. Probably at the irony of being armed with the very type of detonation they were trying to escape.

  More gunshots. One of the lead balls grazed the side of the bucking horse. Blood sprayed from the wound, the red liquid forming into spherical droplets as it drifted away from the panicking animal.

  Raek drew a dagger from his belt. Using the reins to draw himself closer, he slashed through the leather straps that yoked the animal to the wagon. Placing one heavy boot against the horse’s backside, he kicked. The action sent the horse drifting one direction, and Raek the other. The horse bucked hysterically, hooves contacting the wagon and sending it careening into Raek.

  Ard caught Raek’s foot as he spiraled past, but it barely slowed the big man, tugging Ard along instead.

  Their trajectory was going to put them out of the cloud’s perimeter about thirty feet aboveground. They would plummet to the road, a crippling landing even if they didn’t manage to get shot.

  “Any thoughts on how to get out of here?” Ard shouted.

  “I think momentum is going to do that for us in a second or two!”

  They were spinning quite rapidly and the view was making Ard sick. Road. Sky. Road. Sky. He looked at Raek’s ammunition sash and made an impulsive decision. Reaching out, Ard seized one of the bolts whose clay head bore the blue marking of Barrier Grit. Ripping the bolt free, he gripped the shaft and brought the stout projectile against Raek’s chest like a stabbing knife.

  The clay arrowhead shattered, Slagstone sparking against Raek’s broad torso. The Barrier Grit detonated, throwing a new cloud around them midflight.

  The bolt contained far less Grit than the road mine, resulting in a cloud that was only a fraction of the size. Detonated midair, it formed a perfect sphere. It enveloped Ard, Raek, and the wagon, just as all three slammed against the hard Barrier perimeter. The impenetrable wall stopped their momentum, though they still floated weightlessly, pressed against the stationary Barrier.

  “You detonated on my chest?” Raek cried.

  “I needed a solid surface. You were available.”

  “What about the wagon? It was available!”

  A lead ball pinged against the invisible Barrier. Without the protective Grit cloud, the shot would have taken Ard in the neck. But nothing could pass through the perimeter of a Barrier cloud.

  “Would you look at that?” Raek muttered, glancing down.

  The Regulators had momentarily turned their attention on Remaught’s goons. Apparently, the Reggies had decided that an enemy of their enemy was not their friend.

  “We’ve got about ten minutes before our Barrier cloud closes,” Raek said.

  Ard pushed off the invisible perimeter and drifted across the protected sphere. Since Prolonging Grit had been mixed into the mine detonation, their smaller Barrier cloud would fail before the Drift cloud.

  “How do we survive this?” Raek pressed.

  “Maybe the Reggies and goons will shoot each other and we’ll have a free walk to the docks.”

  “We both know that’s not happening,” Raek said. “So we’ve got to be prepared to escape once these two clouds burn out on us.”

  “I plan to deliver you as a sacrifice,” Ard announced. “Maybe I’ll go clean. Become a Holy Isle.”

  “Right,” Raek scoffed. “But they won’t be able to call themselves ‘holy’ anymore.”

  “Just so we’re clear, this isn’t my fault,” said Ard. “Nobody could have predicted that Suno would sell out his boss.”

  “Suno?” Raek asked. “Who the blazes is Suno?”

  “Remaught’s bodyguard,” he answered. “The Trothian in need of a soak.”

  “How does he figure into this?”

  Ard had worked the entire thing out as they drifted aimlessly in the cloud. That was his thing. Raek figured weights, trajectories, detonations. Ard figured people.

  “Remaught wouldn’t have double-crossed us like this,” Ard began. “It would put too many of his goons in danger, sending them head-to-head with an armed Regulation patrol. Our ruse was solid. Remaught thought he got exactly what he wanted out of the transaction—a dirty Reggie in his pocket.

  “Suno, on the other hand, wasn’t getting what he wanted. The bodyguard recently had a kid. Must have decided to go clean—looking for a way to get off Dronodan and get his new child back to the Trothian islets. So Suno sold out Remaught for safe passage. He must have told the real Reggies that one of their own was meeting with his mob boss. Only, the Regulators checked their staffing, saw that everyone was accounted for, and determined …”

  “That I was a fake.” Raek finished the sentence.

  Ard nodded. “And if you weren’t an actual Reggie, then you wouldn’t be heading back to the outpost. You’d be headed off the island as quickly as possible. Hence …” Ard motioned toward the patrol of Regulators just outside the Drift cloud.

  “Flames, Ard,” Raek muttered. “I wanted to wring somebody’s neck for this setup. Now you tell me it’s a brand-new dad? You know I’ve got a soft spot for babies. Can’t be leaving fatherless children scattered throughout the Greater Chain. Guess I’ll have to wring your neck instead.”

  “You already killed me once, Raek,” Ard said. “Look how that turned out.” He gestured at himself.

  Ard knew Raek didn’t really blame him for their current predicament. No more than Ard blamed Raek when one of his detonations misfired.

  Every ruse presented a series of variables. It was Ard’s job to control as many as possible, but sometimes things fell into the mix that Ard had no way of foreseeing. Ard couldn’t have known that Suno would be the bodyguard present at the transaction. And even if he had known, he couldn’t have predicted that Suno would turn against his boss.

  Maybe it was time to close shop if they survived the day. Maybe seven years of successful rusing was more than he could ask for.

  “
There’s no way we’re walking out of this one, Ard,” said Raek.

  “Oh, come on,” Ard answered. “We’ve been in worse situations before. Remember the Garin ruse, two years back? Nobody thought we could stay underwater that long.”

  “If I remember correctly, that wasn’t really our choice. Someone was holding us underwater. Anyway, I said we aren’t walking out of this one.” Raek emphasized the word, gesturing down below. Their Drift cloud was surrounded. Goons on one side, Reggies on the other. But Raek had a conniving look on his face. “Take off your belt.”

  Ard tilted his head in question. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea, on account of us being in a Drift cloud and all. Unless your plan is to give the boys below a Moon Passing. You see, this belt happens to be the only thing currently holding up my trousers. Take it off, and my pants might just drift right off my hips. You know I’ve lost weight over this job, Raek.”

  “Oh really?” Raek scoffed. “And how much do you think you weigh?”

  Ard scratched behind his ear. “Not a panweight over one sixty-five.”

  “Ha!” Raek replied. “Maybe back on Pekal. When you were with Tanalin.”

  “Do you have to bring her up right now?” Ard said. “These might be my final moments, Raek.”

  “Would you rather think about me in your final moments?” Raek asked.

  “Ah! Homeland, no!” cried Ard. “I’d rather think about cream-filled pastries.”

  “Like the ones you used to eat whenever we came ashore from Pekal … with Tanalin.”

  “Raek!”

  The big man chuckled. “Well, Ard, you’re not usually the type to let go of things.” He let out a fake cough, saying Tanalin’s name at the same time. “But I have to say, you’ve really let yourself go. You’re a hundred and seventy-eight panweights. Pushing closer to one eighty with every raspberry tart.”

  Raek had a gift for that. The man could size up a person, or heft an object and tell you exactly how much it weighed. Useful skill for a detonation Mixer.

  “Still less than you,” Ard muttered.

  “Actually, given our current gravity-free surrounding, we both weigh exactly the same—nothing.”

  Ard rolled his eyes. “And you wonder why you don’t have any friends.”

  “Don’t mock the science,” said Raek. “It’s about to save our skins. Now give me your blazing belt!”

  Ard had no idea what the man was planning, but nearly two decades of friendship had taught him that this was one of those moments when he should shut up and do whatever Raekon Dorrel said.

  In a few moments, Ard’s belt was off, a surprisingly awkward task to perform while floating with both hands shackled. A gentle toss sent the belt floating to where Raek caught it. He held the thin strap of leather between his teeth while digging inside his Reggie coat for the gun belt.

  “How many balls do you have?” Raek asked.

  Ard made a face. “I’d think someone so good at mathematics wouldn’t have to ask that question.”

  Raek sighed heavily, his developing plan obviously stifling his sense of humor. “Lead firing balls. In your Roller.”

  “Oh, right.” Ard checked the chambers. “Coincidentally, I have two.”

  “Reload.” Raek sent four cartridges drifting over to Ard, who caught them one at a time. The cartridges housed a premeasured amount of explosive Blast Grit in a thin papery material. At the top of the cartridge was the lead ball, held to the cylindrical cartridge with an adhesive.

  Ard set the first cartridge, ball downward, into an open chamber. Twisting the Roller, he used a hinged ramrod on the underside of the barrel to tamp the ball and cartridge tightly into place.

  It took him only a moment to reload, a practiced skill that couldn’t even be hindered by his shackles. When he looked up, Raek was floating sideways next to the wagon, holding Ard’s other Roller and making use of the belt he’d borrowed.

  “What kind of arts and crafts are you up to?” Ard asked, seeing his friend’s handiwork.

  Raek had taken every spare cartridge from Ard’s gun belt, a total of more than sixty rounds, and used the belt to lash them into a tight bundle. The barrel of the Roller was also tied down so the Slagstone hammer would make contact with the bundle of cartridges. The whole thing looked ridiculous. Not to mention incredibly dangerous.

  “Our Barrier cloud is going to close any second,” Raek said. “I’ll get everything in position.” He shut his eyes the way he often did when required to do complicated mathematics under stressful circumstances. “You should probably get the safe box.”

  Ard felt a sudden jolt of panic, remembering the whole purpose of the ruse. Glancing down, he was relieved to see that their stolen prize was still floating within the confines of their Barrier cloud, not adrift and unprotected like the poor horse.

  Ard judged the distance, reaching out to feel the Barrier wall; solid and impenetrable. He shoved off, a little harder than intended, his body spinning and coming in at the wrong angle.

  Ard’s forehead struck the safe box. A painful way to be reunited, but it gave Ard the chance to reach out and grab it. For a moment he expected the box to feel heavy in his arms, but weight didn’t exist in a Drift cloud.

  Ard was just bracing himself to hit the bottom of the Barrier cloud when it burned out. He passed the spot where the invisible perimeter should have stopped him, momentum carrying him downward through the weightlessness of the lingering Drift cloud.

  Ard slammed into the road, a clod of dirt floating up from his impact. A gunshot cracked and a lead ball zipped past. Normally, Ard enjoyed having his feet on solid ground. But with the goons and Reggies standing off on the road, he suddenly found himself directly in the line of fire.

  “Ardor!” Raek shouted from above. “Get back up here!”

  Lying on his back on the road at the bottom of the Drift cloud, Ard saw Raek and the wagon sinking almost imperceptibly toward him. The full strength of the Drift cloud had expired. Prolonging Grit kept it from collapsing entirely, but the effect of pure weightlessness would continue to diminish until both types of Grit fizzled out.

  Gripping the safe box against his chest, Ard kicked off the road and sprang upward, the Drift cloud allowing him to float effortlessly upward.

  “Gotcha!” Raek grabbed Ard’s sleeve, pulling him against the flat bed of the empty wagon.

  Raek carefully reached out, taking hold of a thin string. It looked strange, lying flat in the air like a stiff wire. “What we’re about to do is among the more experimental methods of escaping.”

  “You mean, you don’t know if it’s going to work?” Ard said.

  “I did the math in my head. Twice. It should …” He dwindled off. “I have no idea.”

  “Do I want to know what’s tied to the other end of that string?” Ard asked.

  “Remember how I lashed your other Roller onto that bundle of Blast Grit cartridges?”

  Ard’s eyes went wide. “Flames, Raek! That’s going to blow us both to …”

  Raek pulled the string. Ard heard the click of the gun’s trigger on the other side of the wagon. The Slagstone hammer threw sparks, instantly accompanied by one of the loudest explosions Ard had ever heard.

  The two men slammed against the wagon as it grew hot, fire belching around them on all sides. The energy from the explosion hurtled the broken wagon on an upward angle, a trajectory Ard hoped was in line with whatever blazing plan Raek had just committed them to.

  They exited the top of the Drift cloud, and Ard felt gravity return around him. It didn’t seem to matter much, however, since both men were sailing through the air at breakneck velocity. The burning wagon started to fall away behind them, like a comet soaring over the heads of the Reggies.

  Raek reached out, grasping Ard’s coat at the neck to keep the two of them from separating in the air. Ard had a lot of questions for his big friend. Namely, How the blazing sparks are we going to get down? But Ard couldn’t breathe, let alone speak.

 
They were at the apex of their flight, any moment to begin the death-sentence descent, when Raek reached up with his free hand and ripped something off his ammunition sash. It was a Grit bolt, but the clay arrowhead was a different color from the Barrier bolts Ard had used earlier.

  Raek gripped the shaft in one hand. Reaching back, he smashed the clay tip against Ard’s left shoulder. The Grit detonated, throwing a fresh Drift cloud around them.

  Ard felt the weightlessness return, along with a throb on his shoulder from where Raek had detonated the bolt. Guess he had that coming.

  In this smaller, new Drift cloud, high over the road, the two men were no longer falling. They were shooting straight through the air, their velocity and trajectory maintained in the weightless environment.

  In a flash, they had passed out the other side of the cloud. But before gravity could begin pulling them down, Raek detonated a second Drift bolt, this time shattering the clay tip on Ard’s other shoulder.

  They were flying. Sparks! Actually flying! High over the heads of their enemies, leaving both Regulators and goons behind. A few lead balls were fired in their direction, but there was little chance of getting hit, moving at the rate they were, spinning dizzying circles through the air.

  One after another, Raek detonated the Drift bolts, the discolored clouds slightly overlapping as the two men shot horizontally through the air.

  The concept of propelling an object over long distances through a series of detonated Drift clouds was not unheard-of. It was the basis for moving heavy materials used in the construction of tall buildings. But for a person to fly like this, unsheltered, the only calculations done impromptu and under gunfire. This was madness and genius, mixed and detonated on the spot.

  The two flying men cleared the cliff shoreline, and Ard saw the harbor and docks just below. They exited the latest Drift cloud, the eighth, as Ard was made painfully aware from the welts on his back, and finally began to descend. Gravity ruled over them once more, and Ard judged that they’d slam down right against the first wooden dock.

  “Two more!” Raek shouted. He crushed another Drift bolt on Ard’s back, maintaining the angle of their fall and buying them a little more distance. As soon as they exited, Raek detonated the last bolt. They soared downward, past the docks and moored ships. Ard saw the Double Take below, docked in the farthest spot, a tactical location to speed their getaway.