Elazar blinked. “What? How?”
“I’ve been meaning to ask you that, myself,” said Avnai. “Century Ships don’t have the kind of scientific knowledge the Consortium has. They don’t even have the kind of technology we have, yet I saw electric lights.”
“I don’t know how it works,” said Azriyqam. “No one would have me as an apprentice. The only skills I got taught were by old women with nothing better to do. They certainly weren’t about to apprentice me to the lightning channelers.”
“Lightning channelers?” said Avnai. “Sister, do you by any chance mean that literally?”
“Well, yes. That’s what the lightning rods on the masts were for. How does the Consortium get their power?”
Avnai just stared at her. “Storing lightning as power…That’s impossible, yet the Century Ships do it.” He blinked at her. “The Consortium uses a machine called a generator. I know the principle, but the actual practice of building them is a closely guarded secret. It’s much easier than storing lightning. Unless you know how, apparently.”
“It’s not technology. It’s sorcery,” said Zhad. “Like the winddriver we stole to get away. The invocations are carved deep into the ship itself, or into its parts.”
“How do they wield this kind of sorcery, being only humans?” asked Azriyqam. “Humans are weak in sorcery.”
“That matters a lot less when you’re talking about written invocations, remember?” Merav added, “In fact, technically, you call written invocations enchantment. Sorcery is weaker or stronger depending on who invokes the Theurge at the time the spell is spoken, but an enchantment’s strength depends much more on the learned skill of the enchanter, and somewhat on what they write their Commands on or with.”
Zhad nodded. “On the Century Ships, the winddrivers and the masts, like the hulls of the ships themselves, are carved from the trunks of the Holy Grove Trees. Those would have power.”
“But why did the Theurge show me a picture of Ekkaia?” asked Azriyqam. “Was it really telling me the only way to save Threlya’s life was to take her there? I can’t do that. If I set foot aboard Ekkaia, they’d kill me!”
“Perhaps the Theurge was suggesting we take Ekkaia,” said Avnai, slowly. “After all, we are the dreaded Pirates of the Near Islands. Raiding Century Ships is what we do.”
Elazar snorted. “Raiding them and plundering their holds, yes. Not capturing them. No crown and throne have ever taken a Century Ship as a prize, not in the five hundred years since the founding of the kingdom. The Century Ships surrender to our fleets because they know dragons could burn them to the waterline, but if they thought we were going to take the Ship itself, they’d fight like demons. We’d either lose or be forced to kill them, and whichever of those we did, we would be in violation of our allegiance to the Pax Consortica, and they would once again invade our homelands.”
“Senaatha said the Theurge only did what you asked it to, not what was reasonable. That’s one of the dangers. Is the Theurge telling me this is the only way to save Threlya? To take a Century Ship? Even if we can’t do it?”
“No,” said Merav, flatly. “The Theurge won’t guide you away from your own stupidity, that much is true, but it won’t deliberately guide you into stupidity either. Your Highness,” she addressed Avnai, “if the Consortium has these generators, as you say, then the Fleet must have them, yes?”
“Of course,” said Avnai.
“Then if Threlya needed a generator, it would have led you to one of them,” she said to Azriyqam. “Threlya needs something on Ekkaia. Something that is only there. Unless…” Merav trailed off.
“Unless what?” Azriyqam asked.
“Well, unless she needed the picture itself, but that’s ridiculous,” said Merav.
“Always assuming I didn’t just speak a bad Command.”
Merav looked at her. “I don’t think so. The Command you spoke led you to something that will help Threlya. A bad Command would have led you elsewhere, or, more likely, nowhere at all. You did it right, you just didn’t get an answer you can understand. I don’t think Senaatha understands it either.”
Avnai sighed. “If Senaatha doesn’t understand it, there’s little hope for the rest of us. Zhad, is lunch ready?”
“Can’t you smell it?” Zhad asked. “Nothing like barbecued pork flavored only with seawater. Fortunately.”
“Trust me, after a day in a Century Ship’s mast cage, you’d know it could be worse. We need to eat and get back to work. We need more food, and we need shelter.”
* * *
The rest of the day was taken up with the work of survival. Avnai went off to hunt more of the wild pigs. This time, Elazar and Merav left Azriyqam behind to gather as many shellfish as she could, and then she joined Zhad in building a shelter.
The problem was that neither of them truly knew how to build a shelter. It had fallen to Avnai to call upon his Consortium Navy survival training to show them, quickly, how to begin.
Now the sun was dimming and Azriyqam tied a tough vine around yet another long bundle of the island’s indigenous pampas grass. Her fingers ached, if possible, more than they ever had from weaving. She handed the bundle up to Zhad, who lashed it to the bamboo frame they had laboriously assembled.
“Do you remember how everyone on the Century Ship used to mock half the islanders we traded with for living in huts made out of branches and logs?” he asked.
“Aye,” she nodded. Compared to those rude huts, everything on the Century Ship had been so fine and sturdy, carved out of the solid wood of the Grove Tree.
“I’m starting to learn a whole new respect for those poor bastards. I think they’d laugh their asses off if they could see us now.”
“Most like.” The shelter was only a frame with a roof, really. “Zhad, why do you think the Theurge showed me Ekkaia?”
“I don’t know. You know you’re asking the one person who knows even less about sorcery than you do, right?”
“I’m asking the person who knows the most about Ekkaia,” she said. “More than I ever did. You’re the one who brought up winddrivers and lightning channels. What else is on that ship that could help Threlya, or any of us?”
“What isn’t on that ship? The hold is full; it’s returning to the Grove. It’s filled with more than you can possibly imagine, I can promise you that. You’d never believe what’s in there. The ship has been sailing outward since before either of us were born.”
“Avnai thinks the Consortium is going to attack it.” Somehow, the thought seemed unreal to her. “Can you believe it?”
“No,” he echoed her tonelessness.
“Are you ever homesick for it?”
“I could see it burned to the waterline or at least hear the crackling flames and be quite happy.”
Azriyqam’s jaw dropped. “You?”
“Yes, me,” said Zhad. “Do you know what else was in the hold? Some measure of safety. It was a place to escape the games of Let’s See What We Can Do To The Blind Kid. It’s one of the reasons I came to see you as well; you were protected.”
“Protected?” Outrage flooded her. “I was beaten and imprisoned and you call it being protected?”
“Yes. Your cage may have been smaller than mine, but it was safer, too. When you were beaten, they cared about whether it would heal. Now you’re living every orphan’s dream. You find out your mother and father really were secretly the king and queen of some far-off land. It’s so good you can even allow me to tag along with you as a fairly comfortable servant.”
“Zhad, I’d never have gotten out of there if it hadn’t been for you.”
“It’s nice to know you still remember that,” he said, “but I don’t understand how you can even think of going back.”
“Not going back—not ever that. Yes, sometimes I could see it burned, too. But then, I have seen it burned in my dreams, and it was terrible.”
“Are you sure it wasn’t just terrible because in your dreams you were on it?” Zhad as
ked.
She was saved from having to answer by Avnai calling Zhad to help him butcher another pig. When she looked up she saw Merav and Elazar walking along the beach toward her, and it was time to tend to the shellfish.
* * *
The fire they had started in the day had been reduced to a bed of glowing coals and Avnai did not order it put out. While the food had not been flavorful, it had at least been plentiful, and Azriyqam felt strength flowing back into her wings.
Avnai cleared his throat for attention. “Excellent work, today, everyone. We’ve all done the work that we usually pay others to do, and I hope we’ve all learned a bit about being grateful for our previously-exalted stations.”
“I bloody well hope so too, your high highnesses,” put in Zhad. “At least Azriyqam knows how to do something that vaguely resembles a day’s work while you palace slugs have been out hunting all day.”
“If you don’t like it, you’ve eaten enough,” said Merav, acidly.
“I don’t need to tell you we’ve been very fortunate to find an island with fresh water and abundant game, but this is only the beginning. We need to keep ourselves hidden. We need to build up a reserve of food, if we can. We’re going to be here for at least two weeks, or however long it takes for Senaatha to heal. She’s our only way off this island, so she’s our top priority. Even then, it may take us a long time to get back home. We don’t know exactly where we are, and we have no charts. We’ll have to island hop unless we find a ship we can trust and…bargain with to take us home.”
Zhad grinned like a wolf. So did Merav. Azriyqam felt her mouth twist. Sometimes she thought she would never get used to being part of a family of pirates, no matter how much she loved them. It didn’t seem to bother Zhad, though.
“For now, it’s important that we get to sleep. The more we sleep, the fewer calories we burn and the healthier we’ll be. I, for one, am looking forward to sleeping on something that isn’t bare sand.”
“Yes, we found some lovely flat leaves. They’re all piled up,” said Azriyqam, standing. The beds in the Kreyntorm were probably the greatest improvement from her life on the Century Ship, once she’d got used to them. “Come on, we’ll give you the two-second tour.” They all rose from the fire and followed her. All but Merav, who was staring at the sky.
“Merav, Avnai said it’s time to go…” Azriyqam trailed off and followed Merav’s gaze. In the deep blue of the sky, a pale sphere was moving toward them. No, not a sphere. A long cylinder, its rounded nose pointed nearly directly at them.
“Dead and Nameless gods,” Avnai whispered.
The Consortium’s skyship had found them.
* * * * *
Chapter 12
“Under the trees. Now!” hissed Avnai.
“But Senaatha—” protested Merav.
“I said, now!” Avnai’s face was carved ivory in the light of the sun-spike. “There’s nothing we can do for her. Move!”
From the shelter of the trees, they watched the great ship of the air come closer. It was smaller than the airships Azriyqam remembered from her youth. “What will they do?” asked Merav, fear in her voice.
“It depends on whether they see her or not,” said Avnai. “I can’t believe they’re going to try to search the island at night. They don’t know Senaatha’s been hit. If she was under cover they’d miss her entirely, the idiots.”
“But she’s not under cover.”
“Damned bad luck.”
“If they do see her, what then?” said Elazar.
“They’ll turn around and carry word to the Fleet. They could be here anywhere from twelve to forty-eight hours, depending on where they are now.”
The dirigible swelled. It took Azriyqam some time to realize that it was descending as it neared. Senaatha’s motionless form glittered in the aurora’s light, but so did the sand on the beach. Was it possible they might mistake her for a dune?
“They’re going to see her,” Avnai said. “Damn. Those ham-handed idiots. They’re going to find her because they’re stupid. This was almost our best chance to get away. If Senaatha wasn’t there, they’d report back that they’d searched this place and we’d be safe forever.”
Into the frustrated silence, Elazar spoke, “It is still our best chance to get away.”
Avnai looked at him. “How do you mean?”
“It’s quite simple. We must take the airship.”
“What?” said Avnai. “Are you out of your mind? We can’t even get to it?”
“You cannot get to it. Three of us can. It is hanging quite low above us, now.”
Azriyqam stared at her mentor. In her peripheral vision, she saw Merav gaping.
Avnai’s face in the moonlight was white as death. “That’s suicide. One old man and two girls against a trained Consortium crew? There are six men in that thing! I forbid it!”
“Stop being a damned fool, Your Highness,” said Elazar levelly. “We have no time to waste in argument. Suicide would be to wait here for our execution. This is a fighting chance.”
“These girls have never fought in a war.”
“Your sister has killed two of the Consortium’s officers already. Can you say the same?”
“It’s not the same, and you know it.”
“We have no time for this,” said Elazar. “Choose now whether to lead us as a sovereign or to dither over what is proper conduct for ladies. Either way, tell me quickly where the crew is and how we get inside.”
Avnai’s face darkened, but he said, “There’s one man in each engine pod and four in the main gondola. They have two machine guns, one on each side, but they’ll be expecting a dragon, not halfdragons. They may not see you, but if they do hit you, they’ll tear your wings out by the roots. The blind spot is the top of the envelope. There’s an observation post there. If they’re sane, they’ll have it manned. They have a speaking tube to the gondola, so you’ll have to take out the observer fast. You can get down into the envelope from there. It’s full of gas cells, but I don’t know my way around inside. There should be a ladder straight down to the gondola. If you can get inside, you may take them unawares. Don’t kill the pilot. I can’t fly the thing, and neither can you.”
Elazar turned to Azriyqam and Merav. Azriyqam felt as though she were trapped in a soap-bubble that might pop and take this whole unreal situation with it. At the same time, his voice took on an eerie clarity. “Stay on my wing. Azriyqam left, Merav right. We’re going to skim the trees and then climb from darkward. We attack out of the dark. I’ll be in front. You land behind our target. If you’re hurt, get down as fast as you can. Now, fly!”
He ran for the beach. Azriyqam followed, with Merav a half-second behind. They spread their wings and climbed in the gentle breeze. The great airship was very close now, but Azriyqam could not look back at it. Trying to look around while flying was an invitation to losing control.
The flat leaves of the palm trees formed a surface of dark waves beneath her, undulating in the wind. Ahead of her, Elazar’s deep bronze and Merav’s pale mauve skin glinted in the pale light, her own pale green flesh doubtless did the same.
How visible are we? She shuddered, remembering the terrible, tearing drumbeat of the Consortium’s guns—was it only yesterday?—and the far worse, sickening sensation of sliding her airswords through flesh that had followed.
Azriyqam strained against the air, putting everything into climbing. Elazar accelerated upward and she slid below him. Sure enough, a column of warm night air filled her wings, and she rode the thermal after him. They flew higher in a wide spiral.
Now Azriyqam could risk a look back. The Consortium’s airship gleamed at the edges like a stretched egg, but dark at the center. Then, a beam of brilliant white light stabbed out from beneath it, probing down at the beach.
Ice settled in Azriyqam’s gut. Now they would find Senaatha for sure. Elazar said nothing as they continued their climb. The balloon hung below them, motionless now, just above the level of the trees. El
azar stopped climbing and arrowed back along their path in a shallow dive, and Azriyqam followed, wings aching with effort.
Elazar folded his wings, grabbed something from his harness, and dropped sharply. The other two followed.
Now the earth rushed at her, the ovoid of the airship getting big. Bigger. Unbelievably big, becoming a curved surface. Against the moonlight, for just an instant, Azriyqam saw a black protrusion become a man standing within a small, circular railing. Clamped to the railing was a long, deadly shape. Suddenly, he rose, fumbling for the machine gun.
Elazar’s wings swept forward. Two silvery darts shot from between his fingers. The man staggered back, clutching his chest. Elazar was down, running across the canvas surface of the envelope. The throwing darts were light weapons, meant more to distract than to kill, but propelled by the momentum of his dive, they had struck their victim at over a hundred miles an hour. The man’s scream was ripped away by the wind, and as he levered himself painfully off the railing of his station, Elazar buried his airswords in the man’s chest. The soldier fell with a soft moan.
Azriyqam’s own momentum carried her past him and she staggered, going to one knee on the taut but yielding surface. She staggered to her feet.
Elazar stooped and wrenched the darts from his victim. “Azriyqam. Here, now.” He passed her a cold, metal object.
She nearly dropped the heavy pistol, designed for a five-fingered human hand. “I can’t use this,” she protested.
“Not unless it means your life,” he agreed. “The first shot will jerk it out of your fingers and you’ll probably miss, but you might make someone hesitate just long enough. Now, the hatch!” She thrust the awkward pistol in her harness. Together, they strained at the round portal set in its frame. It came up, revealing a ladder. “In. Quick!”
He was already halfway through the hatch. Azriyqam scrambled after him with Merav behind her. “If they call up that speaking tube and there’s no answer, someone will come looking. Our only real hope is to take them unawares,” Elazar said. “Don’t just hang there, move!”
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