by Terry Brooks
Arrows, darts, and spears flew toward the defenders, most burying themselves in the ground or in the wood hull and decking of the airship, but a few finding their targets. And for the first time, the defenders got a good look at who was coming at them. The raiders numbered no more than a dozen and were dressed in ragged dark garb decorated with brightly colored scarves and bands that reminded the Rovers of their own attire in days now gone. Smallish, almost featureless men, they were flying huge winged birds that looked to be more a species of bat than anything else. Hunched down aboard their rides, gripping crude leather harnesses with one hand or in some cases simply keeping their seats using the pressure of their knees and legs, they shot arrows or slung missiles with fierce disregard for their own safety.
A couple of the Rovers had gotten to the flash rips by now, which they turned on the raiders. But the attackers seemed able to anticipate what the Rovers intended before they could act, and their bat creatures angled and swooped with sharp changes of direction, easily avoiding the charges that lanced skyward.
Shea Ohmsford had joined Darcon Leah and Ajin d’Amphere to crouch in the protective shadow of the Behemoth’s bow. Efforts to find either Rocan or Brecon Elessedil—or even to identify those close at hand—had failed. Still, he thought he had caught a glimpse of Seelah, leaping through the rigging from mast to mast before swinging down again, seemingly searching for someone. Rocan? He couldn’t be sure. He couldn’t be sure where anyone else was standing by then. He had only his knife with which to defend himself, and did not consider doing anything other than trying to keep safe. He got a few quick but clear glimpses of the attackers, and he was relieved to discover that although their skin was dark, they otherwise looked nothing like Borshawk—either in body or facial structure or in the clothing they wore. They were not decorated with face paint or jewelry. Nor did they seem particularly skilled at their chosen profession, relying mostly on the speed and quickness of their mounts to carry them safely through. It was an odd sort of attack, one that seemed to lack a clear purpose beyond causing havoc among the defenders. The raiders appeared to view them more as intruders to be driven from the island than as a source of material possessions.
Whatever they were thinking, they kept pressing their attack, and finally one of the spears found its mark and a Rover collapsed, the shaft driven all the way through him. A cry went up from a handful of the other defenders, and they renewed their efforts with such determination that finally a flash rip charge caught one of the bats in midturn. And with its rider still clinging to it and yelling defiantly, it crashed into the ocean.
The attack appeared to have reached a stalemate when Dar Leah suddenly leapt up, yelling to Ajin as he did, and without another word the two raced away.
* * *
—
It was an impulsive decision, taking Ajin with him instead of Brecon. But the Elven prince was nowhere in sight, and Dar did not feel he could wait any longer to act. If they were to put a stop to this attack, they needed to get up in the air and fight back. The Behemoth carried a pair of two-man gunships on the order of modified Sprints. Each required a pilot to fly it and a gunner to employ the flash rip mounted on a swivel at the stern. Ajin would not have been his first choice—maybe not even a choice at all—should almost anyone else have been near enough to summon. But he couldn’t operate the Sprint alone, and Ajin was a seasoned fighter with good flying skills. Sometimes, you had to settle for what you could find.
As they clambered up the side of the transport using rope ladders, she shouted, “I’ll fly! I don’t know enough to use those flash rips.”
He shouted back his agreement, and when they reached the closest vessel, they unhooded her, removed the tie-downs, and climbed in. In seconds Ajin had the Sprint powered up and they were lifting off. Dar, crouched at the rear of the little craft, had uncovered the flash rip and charged the diapson crystals, swinging the barrel around toward the fighting. Yelling back and forth at each other to be heard above the wind, they flew directly into the center of the attackers.
This might not have been the best decision, given that they were instantly besieged on all sides by diving bat creatures and their dark riders. Arrows and darts flew past them, a few striking their craft, and Ajin was forced into evasive action. Dar was jerked from side to side by these maneuvers, but he was safely strapped in, so it was only his aim that was thrown off. Ajin took their Sprint straight up to get above the attackers, then swung wide and came down on them at a steady enough descent that Dar was able to strike effectively. Two of the fliers went down, and as if deciding this was enough the rest of them swung away from the camp and flew north, breaking off the attack.
Ajin, impetuous as always, started to follow.
“Ajin, no!” Dar screamed from the rear of their little craft.
“Let’s find out where they’re going!” she shouted back.
“It doesn’t matter!”
“You don’t know that. Let’s chase them a bit!”
“No!”
She glanced back. “When someone attacks you and then runs away, you go after them! Hang on.”
While he struggled to release his restraining straps to stop her forcibly, she powered up the diapson crystals further and closed the distance between themselves and the fleeing raiders. But now they were past the headland that blocked the beaches south and pushing steadily up the north coastline. From their viewpoint in the air, they could see the rugged twists and turns of rocky headlands connected by steep cliffs with waterfalls tumbling down to the Tiderace from heavily forested mountains. There was no sign of life, but a million creatures could hide beneath foliage that thick.
Then they saw the ships, a small fleet of them, moored in a bay just ahead. They were single-mast sloops that clearly lacked the ability to fly. No light sheaths, just ordinary sails; no sign of parse tubes or radian draws. The technology employed by these raiders was primitive, at best. If not for the bat fliers, Ajin and Dar would have had nothing to fear. But as it was, the attackers swung back around now, realizing they were not going to escape without a fight.
“Use the flash rip!” Ajin shouted back at him as she climbed to launch a fresh attack.
And just like that, the power cut out.
It was possible the diapson crystals were drained. Or that one of the many missiles launched by the raiders had damaged the parse tubes. But whatever the case, the thrusters failed and the Sprint began to fall.
We’re dead, Dar thought at once. We can’t survive a fall from this height.
But Ajin was still working the controls, trying to reignite the crystals, to draw some last vestige of power from their store. For long seconds, she could find nothing. Then, suddenly, the starboard parse tubes began to hum, and the little craft righted itself.
“Got it!” she shouted gleefully.
But they were still descending, and the power store she had managed to access was not enough for any evasive maneuvers. All she could do was keep the Sprint from falling too fast, the loss of the port crystals forcing them to spiral steadily inland toward the jungle.
* * *
—
The raiders gave chase, but their mounts were not fast enough to keep up, and when they realized their pursuers had lost control of the airship, they pulled up and wheeled slowly back toward their sloops.
Glancing over their shoulders, they watched as the airship plummeted into the heavy foliage below and disappeared.
TWENTY-NINE
KOL’DRE RECEIVED THE SUMMONS from Cor d’Amphere a week following the battle with the advance force from the Federation. He had been mostly at loose ends since then, trying to keep busy and not grow too impatient with the king’s failure to act against Ketter Vause. When Kol had brought him the news of the Reveals and their potentially destructive impact on the Skaar, the king had acted decisively and without deliberating. Admittedly, it was at Kol’s urgi
ng and using a plan of attack that the Penetrator had designed, but at least he had acted. The battle had not proved a decisive victory for either side, even though the Skaar had lost far fewer soldiers. But Kol was willing to call it a clear win nevertheless and was in full expectation of following up on it swiftly.
Cor d’Amphere, on the other hand, was less ready to plunge back in. The Reveals were still an effective weapon against the Skaar, and they could not depend on the trick of the cloaks to work a second time. Besides, as the king explained to Kol—which in itself was unexpected, given their relationship since Ajin’s dismissal—the Federation’s opportunities to bring up additional supplies, equipment, and manpower exceeded anything the Skaar could manage this far away from home. It was entirely too risky to enter into a war in which an exchange of lives was the only end result, no matter the provocation.
Kol’Dre almost said something at that point that would have gotten him sent home at once, if not worse. He almost said Ajin would never have let that stop her and would have beaten down the enemy through sheer force of confidence and willpower. But he held back because the king was talking to him again, which meant he had a chance to regain his position within the royal hierarchy and become once more a trusted aide and adviser. If that happened, he would have a better opportunity of not only influencing the king’s thinking but also getting back to Ajin.
So he simply deferred to Cor d’Amphere’s choice to sit and wait. The king clearly expected an offer of truce from Ketter Vause now that his sneak attack had failed. But whatever else the Prime Minister of the Federation could be called—and the king had already shared a dozen possibilities with Kol’Dre—he could not be called foolish. He had attacked the Skaar because Cor d’Amphere had tried to have him killed and had failed. Yes, Ketter Vause was alive and well, Cor informed him but also humbled. With the passing of every day, his doubts about his future would grow, knowing he must find a way to settle matters with the Skaar before he could return to Arishaig.
Thus, Cor d’Amphere reasoned, Vause would soon ask for a meeting. And a new opportunity to settle this matter without further loss of life might be found.
Kol was not certain the king’s reasoning was sound, but he had no voice in the matter. He must sit and wait, biding his time like everyone else while still keeping his scouts and sentries alert and active against another surprise attack. It was unlikely one would come for a while, but sooner or later something would happen to stir things up further.
Once or twice, he thought to go back into the Federation camp, as he had before, just to see if anything more could be discovered. But to do that without permission from the king would undo everything he had accomplished in the interim, and he could not persuade himself to risk it.
Mostly, he thought of Ajin. She would be back in Skaarsland by now, back in their home city, facing trials of her own. She would be confronting her stepmother without Kol there to protect her. It didn’t matter what her father thought; it didn’t matter that he was king. His new queen was brash and confident of her position. She perceived Ajin as a threat, and she would find a way to remove her.
He thought about this constantly, riddled with guilt that he could do nothing to stop it from happening. It was all well and good to argue there was nothing he could do—that he had been ordered to stay behind to serve his king. Ajin was the woman he loved, hopelessly and endlessly. Ajin was his obsession, and his entire adult life had been spent dreaming of the day when she would be his.
Now, he feared, that could never happen. Before, it had seemed at least a faint possibility. Now, not even that was left to him. He told himself he should just go to the king and ask for her hand—even if there were no chance that his plea would be granted. But still he did nothing, and his inability to act ate at him with such a voracious appetite that he was in danger of doing something foolish. Yet his fear of losing all influence over the king persuaded him to continue on his present course of discretion.
But now the king had summoned him and he would have another chance to make his case for being sent back to Skaarsland, where he could be with Ajin. He was practicing what he would say in his head as he walked to the king’s tent. The camp had been moved just before the Federation’s failed sneak attack and was now situated farther downstream and deeper into the forests that bordered the northern banks. As a further precaution, they had removed the entire fleet save for two small flits, which could be quickly dispatched to summon help if needed. But for the moment, the orders were to hide and wait.
Kol’Dre was through with all of it, though. Today, whatever the king asked of him, he would respond with a clear and unequivocal demand that he be sent home to Ajin.
He reached the tent, announced his presence to the guards, and waited for the summons to enter. It came almost immediately, and he went through the flaps and into the lantern-lit interior where the king stood waiting.
“Kol’Dre,” the king greeted him, an unexpected warmth in his voice, his hand outstretched. Kol took it in his and received a small squeeze in response. “You must be bored beyond words.”
Kol nodded, wondering what was going on. “I prefer activity to idleness.”
The king chuckled. “Who among us doesn’t?”
They released hands, and the king beckoned his Penetrator to one of the chairs that sat beside his desk, taking the other for himself. All formality had apparently been abandoned.
“I want to find a way to put this business with the Federation behind me. I know I should attack them and be done with it, which is what Ajin would do if she were here, but I am not as ready as she is to embrace a more…impulsive lifestyle. She would jump off a cliff without hesitating, but I would have to think about it. I do miss her, though. She was always the strongest and the bravest of us. Had she not disobeyed me so blatantly, I would have kept her here with me.”
He sighed, and Kol waited expectantly. Something was about to happen, he realized.
“I am going to ask a favor of you, and if you agree to provide it, I will grant you a favor in return. Of course, I could simply order you to do what is needed, but that isn’t how I believe things should be handled in this situation. I am firmly convinced that nothing will change between the Skaar and the Federation until Ketter Vause is dead. So I want you to employ those formidable skills of yours and kill him.”
Kol’Dre nodded slowly. “He will be expecting us to attempt something like that. If the Druid is still keeping watch over the Prime Minister…”
The king raised his hand quickly and brushed aside the rest of what Kol intended to say. “The Druid is gone, pursuing Clizia Porse, and there is no indication he will be returning anytime soon. So the Prime Minister is vulnerable once more, and it is up to you to succeed where Clizia failed. Can you do so?”
Kol hesitated. “Probably. But it won’t be easy. Ketter Vause will have taken precautions. And if I am caught…”
“Yes, I am fully aware of the consequences. But you won’t be caught. You’ve never been caught.” He paused. “Would you like to know what the favor is that I will do for you in return?”
This is a trap, Kol thought instantly. But he kept his expression neutral. “Of course.”
Cor d’Amphere smiled. “I will give you Ajin.”
“What do you mean?”
“I will send you back to Ajin, and her hand will be yours.”
Of all the things he could have been offered, this was the last one Kol would have guessed. For a moment, he was speechless.
“You do want this, don’t you?” the king persisted.
“Of course. She is my closest friend, and we have been constant companions on every expedition since—”
“Just admit it,” the king interrupted smoothly. “She is the woman you wish to marry.” He smiled. “You must think me totally blind to believe I do not see how you look at her. How protective of her you are. I am her father, Ko
l’Dre. I see it all. I know what you desire, and I am offering it to you.”
“Why would you do this?” Kol asked, abandoning any pretense. “You are the king, and she is your firstborn. I am far beneath her station. I could never be permitted to marry her; she has already made that clear enough.”
Cor d’Amphere laughed. “Oh, I know. I know my daughter. She is proud and strong-minded, and she would never let personal relationships interfere with her ambitions. She chooses partners without caring about them and then casts them aside. I hear the rumors. But I have good reason to think it would be different with you. You are already close to her. You have her confidence and her respect. A good beginning to any relationship, in my estimation. If she is given a chance to consider the idea more closely, I think she will choose to marry you in spite of any misgivings. Once, I would never have considered such a thing. You are indeed beneath her in social status and prospects, but you are her equal in many ways. You are clever and intelligent. What you would bring to the relationship is a steadiness, and a voice she would listen to—a voice to help curb her impetuous behavior.”
He shook his head. “Besides, I am tired of trying to manage her. I need someone else to take on this burden. She is my favorite child and my only daughter. She will succeed me as ruler of Skaarsland one day, but she never will be queen if she isn’t forced to take a more rational approach to life. And I think you are the best chance for making that happen.”
“She might see it differently.”
“She might. But let’s consider how we might get past that. You will kill Ketter Vause and rid me of him once and for all. Then you will return to Skaarsland to tell my daughter that I have chosen you for her husband. If she accepts, explain to her that she will be returned to my favor and to her former position in the army. She will also be openly named my successor and the next ruler of the Skaar nation. She will find that hard to resist. And I am sure you know what this would mean for your own fortune.”
