Once everyone stated their secureness, I told Aranath to follow the train tracks back to town. Directions given, the dragon spread his wings and swirled in the surrounding air with an innate spell. A single downward flap and a lurch from his back legs sent a beast longer than a train segment into the lower sky. Isabel couldn’t help but shriek. Lucky for her, as no obstacle forced Aranath to seek a higher sky all at once, the juddering ride evened out in a speedy moment. I felt tempted to signaling the dragon to roil our stomach contents with a dive or roll, but not knowing how having fun at their expense might be interpreted, I refrained.
Flying faster than the train’s wheels had rolled, the town came within sight sooner than we left it. Though not flying too high, the lingering fog on the ground would make the dragon appear as a strange bird to anyone who got a glimpse of him from below. The fog hovering over the sea proved less dense, but we still required a few diving passes for us to spot the correct ship. It then required Aranath to land on the stern diagonally to put himself at a comfortable angle to allow his passengers to hop off his back and release the guns, ammo, and dirt he brought in his claws.
With everyone on the deck and the dragon unsummoned, I asked a weak-kneed Isabel, “Keep your breakfast?”
“My breakfast is just…” A burp got caught in her throat. “…fine. Major, do you know yet if I’m to accompany you to the Toothed Bowl?”
“Flying not your thing, Sergeant Vera?”
“Pure curiosity, sir. No ulterior motive here. It’s not like I can switch with someone else here.”
“I don’t know yet who’s coming and who’s not. I do know that if I do choose you, you won’t have a problem with it, correct?”
Rallying feigned enthusiasm brought on by countless drills, she answered, “Yes, sir!”
When Eric left to tell the captain where to sail, I asked Isabel, “Have you ever switched with your sister on a mission?”
“Um, yeah, once. We did it just to see if we could get away with it. And we did, but I don’t like acting like her. People treat me nicer.”
“Nicer? I haven’t seen anyone treat her badly.”
“No, it isn’t ‘badly.’ It’s more like everyone treats her like one of the guys. I prefer remembering I’m a woman once in a while, you know?”
“Uh, no.”
She shrugged. “Whatever. Anyhow, riding your dragon may take some getting used to, but don’t expect me to switch with Felicia for the chance to get used to it. Of course, if my superior happens to choose someone else to go in my place, it won’t be the end of my world.”
Chapter Sixteen
As it turned out, the major replaced Isabel with Svren, something he announced a few hours into our voyage to the north. A steamship was not as fast as a steam train, so the journey promised to last through much of the remaining daylight. During that time, I spoke with Eric about the strategies we needed to employ to complete the mission.
Needless to say, how we chose to go about the mission all depended on how many turncoats defended their hole and what tactics they used to do so. Aranath could put us almost anywhere around the Toothed Bowl, but if enough eyes watched the entrance, then a stealthy approach might turn out to be impossible. Nevertheless, if we went in the dead of night, the unholy cold would likely oblige any potential sentinels to seek shelter deeper in their liar, not to mention carrying the added benefit of masking the dragon’s substantial presence.
A less appealing option was what Xavier called going in “guns blazing.” It sounded pretty straightforward, though without me or my brother knowing how to use guns, we would undoubtedly be outmatched if forced to resort to it early on. Mercifully, we were not tasked with wiping out the entire heathen haven. As long as we demonstrated to the defectors that the Vanguard had discovered their den and could infiltrate it at any time, it should oblige them to scatter and relocate. Like the vice admiral inferred, giving them a good scare would be enough to count the mission a success.
As for the turncoats themselves, the basic policy involved striking with the intent to kill. Evidently, some of the derange-loving, anarchic turncoats carried “suicide pills,” which they ingested when they suspected they were about to be captured. However, as the major witnessed for himself, my brother’s paralysis ability might be able to stop them from enacting such a rash action before they even evoked the thought. In case the option presented itself, we were to carry manacles, coiled rope, and strips of cloth to smother mouths. Being able to hand over living turncoats to the Vanguard should impress somebody in charge.
When the option of nonlethal alternatives came up, I requested to carry daggers, or knives, or at least a pointy tool.
“You have a dragon and his fire,” said Eric. “You’d really feel better with a couple of knives with you?”
“Knives don’t cost so much of my prana. They also won’t give away my position in a dark, cramped cave.”
“Bregman will talk my ear off about it.”
“All I’ll say is that he doesn’t need them,” said Bregman, who stood behind the sitting major in his little office.
“If my goal was to do you all in, a couple of knives is not how I’d do it. The dragon and his fire would be far better options. Besides, if you really want to see how little I care about the people you suspect I’m connected with, you should want me to stab every turncoat I come across.”
“We will need as many offensive options as we can get underground,” said Eric. “I’ll approve of exactly two knives for each brother.”
“I’m not certain my brother will need them.”
“Why not?” asked Alex, perking up from his corner.
“I don’t know how well you can handle one.”
“I can handle one perfectly.”
“And how do I know that? You avoid training with me, blade or no.”
“Point is, none of these turncoat people are gonna have the power or skill to beat me, so I don’t have to be fancy with it.”
“Fine, but you only get one.”
“Dickface.”
“You should correct him,” said Svren. “Dragon knights should be respected by all, including by one’s clan. Especially by one’s clan. What will others think when they perceive such contempt?”
“Whatever my relationship with my brother, it will probably come second to the fact that I wield corruption. Unless you’re saying your respect for me has diminished.”
“Er, no.”
“Good. I’ll stick with earning the respect of people who are not so figurative and can help smoothen my life’s path.”
Speaking of paths, Orkan’s route took her within sight of a scabrous shore that propped up the western edge of a stubby mountain range. We waited for every layer of dusk to blacken the partly cloudy sky before the major directed the group to put on their warmest, hardiest garments. Once the air froze to the point no sensible body would battle against it for long, I summoned my steed.
Once I told Aranath what we were looking out for, his tried-and-true wings lifted us off the ship. Svren uttered numerous clicking squawks that I could not determine whether they originated out of his delight for flying or his dislike of it. Whatever the reason, he calmed himself after a moment. A chilled wind helped push the dragon along from behind. It also brought on a thicker mass of clouds over the small, ragged range, which Aranath reached in well under an hour.
Aiding us another way was the sprinkle of snow on the top half of the Ruts, for the white fluff outlined the crevices better and brightened the ground in general. To be sure, even without the snow and without the hint of starlight, I would be confident in the dragon’s eyes to pick out a hopping black rabbit from a mile up.
Much easier than spotting a rabbit from so high up was a mountainous formation. While there existed countless rough-hewn peaks in various patterns, it did not take the dragon long to locate a distinguishing ring of snowy summits tucked within the northwestern section of the dumpy range. Aranath perched on a ridge overlooking the sought-af
ter formation to give his passengers a better perspective on it. Everyone tried looking out for any kind of trail non-winged beings could use to get to the Toothed Bowl or any place nearby. Not finding an obvious example, Aranath flew to the other side of the ring.
Now on a northern perch, the dragon said, “There is a pathway leading up to a cliff on the northeastern peak.”
“A cliff? If you’re talking about the trail I think you’re talking about, it’s mostly all on that skinny ledge.”
“Unless the strife worshipers here have superior scaling abilities, no other routes exist near this formation.”
“All right, where can you drop us off?”
“I cannot fit anywhere on the ledge, but if you are not opposed to a little climbing, I can place you on a wider ledge right above the first.”
I looked behind me. “That all right, Holson?”
“We have to start somewhere. Take us down, dragon.”
In a quiet glide, Aranath swooped toward a ridge sticking out about halfway up the peak. He landed with his back legs on a pile of rock, so his front half tilted downward. The angle made it easier to jump off.
After dismissing my partner, Eric asked me, “So you can summon him again, right?”
“Aye. It won’t be for long, but it will be enough to escape this mountain range if we have to.”
Our group studied the cliff face under us. It was Svren who found a route that seemed to include plenty of cracks and jutting rock for our feet and hands to find support. Eric, not want to make too much noise or cause the cliff face to become unstable, stated he would only cast his rock magic if one of us got into trouble.
Svren started a climb I estimated to be somewhere between fifty and sixty feet. The major went next, followed by myself and Alex. Despite the toilsome exercise, it was already cold enough that I hardly felt the heat emanating from my working muscles. It didn’t help that my bare fingers needed to touch the slick ice or snow bonded to nearly every rock, sucking away my natural warmth. At least the wind did not blow too hard, though it was still capable of freezing the beads of perspiration the instant they leaked out my brow.
We came upon a snag when part of the vertical face sloped too far inward. We had to climb several yards sideways to avoid it. I didn’t like how often we loosened pebbles and snow. If anyone was keeping an eye or ear out close by, the amount of falling debris would surely alert them to our presence. Sometimes, after particularly clattering events, Eric would stop and make a fist, prompting everyone to stop moving for a few moments. When nothing reacted to the noise, Major Holson simply restarted his descent to get the rest of us going again.
We ultimately made it to the lower ledge without great incident. Svren pointed at an overhang of rock that acted as a canopy for part of the slim pathway. There was a deep shadow under the overhang, suggesting the possibility of a cave entrance. Eager to get out of the algid elements as much as we were eager to learn whether we found the enemy lair, we shuffled toward the brink of the overhang’s shadow. From there, with our backs to the wall, we crept into the nighttime shade.
Like an experienced scout, Svren did not try peeking as soon as he got to the threshold. No, first he crouched and engaged his sense of hearing to learn whether anyone lingered close enough to see any part of his form. Concluding no enemy could detect him, he leaned ever so slightly, poking his head into a triangular opening wide enough to fit our whole group pressed shoulder to shoulder.
After a long moment looking in, Svren whispered, “I see nothing. I hear nothing.”
“Then let’s go in,” said the major. “Keep to the right wall.”
So with our right hands grazing the right wall, our squad methodically promenaded into the tunnel. A few yards inside, the curving floor inclined downward in an irregular series of steps and slopes. Our blind feet kicked or stepped on a lot of pebbles and shards of rock.
Supposing the constant audible disturbance was no worse than inviting a little light, Eric told Bregman to galvanize his lighter to life. At the same time I heard a snapping noise, a small flame burst above a yellowish-brown container in Bregman’s hand. To minimize the brightness, Bregman had put his hand in front of the machine-made fire. Our krewen scout ranger walked a short way ahead of us, staying at the fringe of the lone light source available.
The deeper we went, the less oppressive the cold became. At the point the chill lost its power to penetrate every layer of protection we owned, we figured we were reaching an area the turncoats might be guarding or inhabiting.
Indeed, a couple of minutes after coming to the conclusion, Svren, who had stopped to peek around a corner, said, “I see light. More of it, I mean.”
That got Bregman to close the lid on his mechanism. It took a second for our eyes to adjust, but once they did, we discerned the light Svren discovered. The originator of its glow came from an unseen space at the end of the right-turning tunnel we looked down at. As we waited with carefully drawn breaths, I overheard the good-humored babbling of a baby, presumably a human one. Marginally less perceptible were the murmurs of older speakers, likely of the feminine sect. They were outlying sounds, not subdued ones.
“Women and children?” said Bregman. “What kind of place did Matias send us to?”
“A community of turncoats,” replied Eric. “They’ve been known to spring up from time to time. They must feel pretty secure here if they got women and children closest to the entrance.”
“Maybe we came in at an exit,” said Svren.
“Maybe.”
“Or they’re being used as human shields,” said Alex.
“Another maybe.”
“So, do we go through them?” asked Svren.
“Turncoats are turncoats. However, let’s try checking how many there are first.”
While the rest of us stood in the same spot, Svren’s silhouette went on ahead to the rounded corner to take whatever glimpse he could. He copied the actions he performed at the entrance, which led to a snooping head. In the event he misjudged the situation, Eric and Bregman lifted their guns, whereas my left hand took greater notice of the dragon stone it clutched. At a sluggish speed that told us he had not been caught staring, Svren rose and walked back to us.
“The tunnel gets really narrow,” said the bird-man. “We’ll have to go single file if we move through it. I could only get quick ganders of the other side, but I did see a human woman and two fledglings moving about in a large hollow. Too large to see everything. Others are having a conversation out of my sight. Hard to say how many there might be in total.”
“Are they armed?” Bregman asked.
“There was a shotgun leaning against a tent. I couldn’t see anything else, but I’ll assume at least some of the women have a firearm on them.”
“Whatever the number,” I began, “our strategy should be the same.”
“Which is?” asked Bregman.
“I snuff out all the light in the cavern and my brother will use his paralysis spell.”
To Alex, the major asked, “Can you really cast your shadow spell over an entire cavern?”
“Probably. If they’re anything like the outlaw guys, I can keep a bunch of people from moving for a few minutes.”
“You’re actually thinking about exposing children to such a depraved spell?” Bregman enquired of his superior.
“I’ve been paralyzed by it before,” I said. “It’ll feel unsettling not being able to move, but they won’t get corrupted or anything.”
“And it’s better than shooting their mothers right in front of them,” said Svren. “If a single one of them is able to let out a shout, it could start a very messy gunfight.”
“We could simply leave right now,” said Bregman.
“I’ve not yet deemed the mission unmanageable,” said Eric. “I don’t like it, but if Matias decides to spread the word of our coming, then they’ll scatter or entrench themselves before we can get any of them in custody. It’s best we make our move tonight. Mercer, Alex, onc
e the paralysis spell is set, what then? We go in with the rope?”
“I’ll go in with the rope,” I said. “Alex can’t break his spell until everyone is restrained, so unless you know how to protect yourself from the hex, you’ll only get caught in the trap.”
“What makes you think you can resist my magic?” asked an ever galled Alex.
“Your spell will be spread out over a wide area. It should be too weak to fetter my body. You also shouldn’t try too hard to paralyze everyone. You don’t want those children to be so immobile that they can’t breathe or something. Bregman, can I borrow your fire-creating machine?”
“What for?”
“I’d like to use it as a torch. It’d be easier than using my prana to keep a flame going. It’s also not so bright that it’ll break my brother’s hex when I get close to someone.”
“Give it to him,” the major ordered Bregman.
As he was about to hand the device over, I asked the owner, “How does it work?”
“Just snap down on the metal wheel to get it to spin a bit. Close the lid to smother it. Simple. It won’t last longer than another half hour, so don’t dally.”
“Agreed. Hand me the restraining things.” Alex, who had been charged with much of the rope, transferred it to my shoulder. Eric handed me more cloth strips, which I stuffed into a pocket. “Let’s get this over with, Alex.”
Making my footfalls as indistinct as a hunting cat’s, I went over to take Svren’s previous position. The slender, bumpy-walled tunnel stretched for thirty feet more, a black lantern on a chair sitting right by its end. Other lights deeper in the cavern illuminated a pair of triangular tents made of a heavy white fur. Their flaps shut, I suspected they held slumbering turncoats. I didn’t think Alex’s spell could seep past the walls, but as long as his spell remained engaged, all it would take for someone to be ensnared was for them to crack open a flap.
Though able to hear voices and movement, no one strayed into my eyes’ lane, so I risked getting closer to the lambent cave by entering the tunnel’s last turn. Although my responsibility was not going to be as demanding as Alex’s promised to be, sending any kind of spell over a wide area was going to cost an appreciable chunk of prana, something I wanted to minimize as much as possible by cutting the distance to my targets somewhat.
The Dragon Knight and the Steam World Page 19
