Dragon Airways

by Brian Rathbone

  * * *

  "He's going to kill us all," Grunt said.

  "Not if we're smart about this," Agger said, already knowing the odds of Grunt's being smart about anything were slim.

  "Are you any good at landing these things?" Grunt asked.

  "Better than you are. Strap in tight."

  No matter how stupid he might seem at times, Grunt cinched his straps tight.

  Orange and white cliffs jutted from the ocean, capped with trees and a narrow strip of grassland. Farther north were the main Sparrowport airstrips, but landing a stolen plane there was asking for trouble. Instead, he aimed for a place atop the bluffs, hidden from town by a towering peak.

  "Maybe we should just head back to the western fleet and blame Casta for blowing our cover," Grunt suggested.

  Agger laughed. "She's his favorite."

  "He hates her."

  "Exactly," Agger said. "Now shut up and do what I tell you for a change. It'll make it easier on both of us."

  "You don't have to be mean about it," Grunt said.

  The man was a walking pile driver, and Agger hurt his feelings.

  The cliffs drew closer, and all conversation ceased. Neither of them wanted to die. Winds tossed the plane, causing it to pitch and roll. As soon as Agger countered one blasting gust, the wind shifted, growing cold and causing them to drop like a stone.

  Grunt started talking again, his words unfit for a pirate's ears. With his feet on the dash and holding the handle above his head, he screamed louder the closer the bluffs drew. Agger was tempted to knock him out just to shut him up, but he'd seen others attempt to do so and fail miserably. Sometimes it was best to learn from the mistakes of others and save yourself the scars. Besides, Grunt really couldn't land this plane in Agger's estimation.

  Gripping the controls tightly, Agger flew the stolen passenger plane sideways into the secluded valley, countering heavy crosswinds. When tires touched grass, the aircraft was yanked hard to the right and bounced along a rock-strewn field.

  "This was a bad idea," Grunt said as objects streaked past on either side.

  Agger did everything he could to slow the plane without flipping it over or onto a wingtip. After a third bounce, the landing gear caught in the turf and brought them to an abrupt halt.

  "I can't believe we're alive," Grunt said.

  "Thanks for the vote of confidence," Agger replied.

  "You're welcome. Now to see if this bird will still fly. That woman is just crazy enough to leave us here."

  Agger climbed down and inspected the airplane. Grass and soil clogged the front wheels, but the gear appeared otherwise undamaged. Grunt tried to pull a clump of grass away from the brakes and sucked in a breath when he burned his finger on the shining disks.

  There was no hiding the plane. They just had to hope no one would come looking or that Casta Mett kept her word and picked them up an hour after nightfall. Both seemed slim hopes at the moment.

  The town of Sparrowport was only a short walk away, which was part of what worried Agger. He'd rather have been forced to climb sheer rock faces than be so easily discovered out in the open. The people on this day, though, had plenty of other things to keep them occupied. Fighting in the street and stolen planes must have caused quite a stir.

  Agger led Grunt to a place on the side of the nearby peak where they could watch. Sparrowport swarmed with activity, as he'd expected, and he reconsidered his plan. How were they supposed to kidnap someone from a town on high alert? And in particular, how was he supposed to move anywhere with any stealth having the heavy-footed Grunt right behind him? Agger was fairly certain his shadow's boots were made of concrete.

  As darkness fell, the true scale of their challenge became evident. In addition to the streetlights, lanterns could be seen moving up and down the avenues. Even children patrolled the streets, ready to shout at the sight of anything out of place. Agger wondered if Destin Brightwood was among them. All he could do was operate under the assumption that the unpopular boy would remain home. His family's wealth had not been enough to overcome his unusual looks and mannerisms. Finding out such things was what Agger did best. If only he could identify magic or those able to sense it. Like the Pickette boy. He could not be certain, but he assumed that was who had taken the golden knife from right under their noses.

  "You really shouldn't have shot that chap, you know," he said to Grunt. "That's probably what got the kid up. He was more than likely standing there when our friend expired." How else could he explain it?

  Grunt remained silent. It was probably the wiser strategy, and Agger shut his mouth. Neither had wanted to enter town from the airfields, as most did. Better to scale the walls near the wealthy end of the residential district. Even if the main avenues were heavily patrolled, plenty of side streets and alleys remained in the shadows.

  Despite their bickering, Agger and Grunt worked as a team and helped each other down a rock face and over a low wall. When they dropped into a narrow alley, it was like entering a different world. Here every window and gutter could hold eyes, ready to raise the alarm. No matter how skilled, they were immensely outnumbered, even if mostly by children and those too old to fight. Far better to slip in and out unseen.

  Moving through darkened alleys, Agger stayed to the center to avoid unseen obstacles. He'd memorized a map of this place and knew where they needed to go. Grunt followed, looking lost and confused. When he tripped over a metal can, it came as little surprise. Agger sighed and drew his blade. No one came.

  Grunt giggled.

  "Idiot," Agger said. "How did you ever survive the cutting camps?"

  "I have skills," Grunt said.

  "I would have tossed you out," Agger continued. "It's only by luck that you haven't gotten us killed yet."

  "Oh, they tried to cut me three different times."

  "And how'd you get past that?"

  From the darkness came a dock rat, a dirty blade in hand. Grunt never flinched. Reaching out with viselike fingers, he pinched the man's wrist in a way that made bones pop. Agger was certain the man would be screaming in pain if not for the elbow Grunt drove into his nose.

  "I showed them my skills," he said with a grin. "Do you think this kid has magic?" he asked a moment later.

  Agger shrugged. "Casta doesn't think so, but we can't trust anything she says. Making us look bad is a hobby of hers."

  "Maybe if we find this Emmet Pickette kid, Lord Kind will have less need of Casta Mett."

  "And if she finds him first?" Agger asked.

  "We're going to need a new kid."

  "This kid is weird, and we're not going back empty-handed. Unless you have any better ideas. I suppose we could beat up everyone we see along the way."

  Grunt laughed a little too loudly. Agger glared at him. They were nearing the wealthiest district, which was the last place they wanted to draw attention to themselves. These people didn't have to be on guard since they could afford to pay someone else to be on guard for them. As a result, these streets were patrolled more heavily than anywhere else.

  "You wait here," Agger whispered to Grunt after a watchman walked past.

  Grunt nodded.

  Through the night, Agger raced. He'd already identified the door he wanted to target. A metal fence and gate stood in his way. At a full run, he used the metal post holding the gate, since that would be the strongest one, to vault himself over the fence. Landing on soft soles with bent knees, he made only a soft patter.

  The lock awaiting him looked far more secure than it actually was. After only a moment of fishing for the center pin, he released the catch. The door slid open, and Agger was halfway inside when the screeching started. With a lump in his throat, he turned to see Grunt open the gate, enter the courtyard, and close the noisy gate behind himself.

  "Sorry," he said in a whisper.

  Agger was tempted to kill him then and there. Grunt followed him into the house in spite of his insistence otherwise. Why Lord Kind had chosen to handicap Agger in such
a way was unfathomable and a waste of his talents. Even in his anger, he knew he would never say those words to his king. He liked his head where it was.

  "Stay here," Agger mouthed.

  Grunt nodded.

  Agger barely resisted the urge to knock the stupid grin from the man's face, but there was entirely too much at risk.

  After moving through the pantry and kitchen, Agger climbed the stairs, keeping his weight out close to the edges, where it would be better supported and less likely to cause the stairs to give him away. When he reached the top and turned the corner, the stairs behind him creaked loudly. It was everything he could do not to vent his anger and frustration on Grunt. The man was an incompetent oaf.

  In his rage, Agger missed the telltale signs of a loose board in the hallway. When his boots landed on the slight impression in the carpet, it groaned.

  "What are you doing out of bed, boy?"

  The man's voice sent a sharp chill through Agger. Footsteps behind him indicated Grunt had abandoned stealth. Charging into the room, he said nothing. After a thud and a few grunts, he returned.

  Agger just looked at him in pure astonishment.

  "It's a good thing I was here," Grunt said. "I probably just saved your life."

  No words left Agger's lips. He stood in incredulous silence.

  "Come on," Grunt said. "We don't want to just wait around here and gape. Let's get the boy and go."

  Someday Agger would find a way to repay Grunt for his help. At that moment, though, he followed the thickheaded man to a closed door two doors down from where the man Agger assumed was the boy's father had been sleeping.

  Grunt opened the door with exaggerated slowness but managed to do so quietly. Within, Destin Brightwood slept. Grunt grabbed him and slung him over his shoulder.

  "What? Hey?" Destin said.

  "Keep your mouth shut, and I won't kill you," Grunt said. "I got the kid. Let's go."

  Agger just shook his head. The boy looked at him with terror-filled eyes. Agger just gave him a sad smile back. "I'll try not to kill you either. Just be a good boy, and everything will be fine."

  Getting the kid back over the wall and up the rock face proved difficult, but eventually they hauled him up like a sack of potatoes. To his credit, the kid remained silent the entire time. Grunt proved to be excellent motivation.

  Moving in the darkness was dangerous and time consuming. Now Agger was grateful for the short distance they needed to cover. He cursed it again when they peeked back into the small valley. At least a dozen lanterns moved in close proximity of the plane they had stolen and left there. So much for their backup plan. She had better not leave them there.

  "I'll kill her if she doesn't show," Grunt said as if reading his mind. That alone was a scary thought.

  When ropes suddenly appeared in the meadow before them, Agger could hardly believe it. Hovering above them in near silence was an airship, Casta Mett staring down at him.

  Grunt shoved the kid up onto a rope. "Climb or die, kid."

  Destin climbed. Agger grabbed the rope closest to him and left the ground with familiar reticence. Power and control were no longer his. Now he was simply a passenger. In that moment, the people below spotted the airship and ran toward the ropes. The crew moved with alacrity, and the humming above grew louder. Within moments, they moved out over the cliffs. Agger Dan tried not to look down.