by Frank Morin
"Good idea."
They went to meet the battle marshal, responsible for overall coordination of the various affinity groups. He was a grizzled Sapper named Gunter, whose long fur coat made him look like a bear. When Ilse explained their plan to use mud, his Sentry-speak grew so convoluted that Connor gave up trying to understand.
Attempting to force the man to listen would probably just get him buried under half a mile of earth. So he decided to try using reason. "The courageous may tempt the rocky peaks, but all flee the fury of the mudslide unleashed by the raging tempest."
The old Sapper grunted and said, "Whispers in a cavern may echo to the uttermost corners, but the sleeping mind hears naught but the clamor of dreams."
That was a good one. Connor hoped it meant Gunter was realizing he needed to wake up and try something new. Or maybe he thought Connor was dreaming. Or was he suggesting Connor lock himself in a cave for a few weeks?
Ilse stepped in to help. "The snows of winter quench the budding flame, but waters of springtime nourish the seedling."
Connor had no idea what that was supposed to mean, but Gunter slowly nodded and sighed, the sound like a bellows deflating in a blacksmith shop. That was the turning point in the discussion. It still took a lot of fast talking to get the other leaders to consider the idea, but they all finally agreed to meet and try testing the concepts.
In the meantime, Connor saw Martys only once. His uncle had formed an unexpected friendship with Erich, and the two of them spent a great deal of time sparring and swapping stories. Connor wondered how much of what they both said was actually understood. Erich seemed to struggle with the simplest Obrioner, and Martys's highland sayings surely splattered against Erich's rock-hard cranium without making a dent.
Then again, the fact that they didn't really understand each other might make it easier to get along. They couldn't argue politics or discuss deep, emotional topics. Theirs was a friendship built on mutual respect from punching each other a couple hundred times. Connor decided there were worse foundations to build upon.
He saw next to nothing of Aifric after he got her a large supply of obsidian. She'd told Rory that she needed to stay to treat Connor for a lingering ailment.
The fact that she hadn't specified the exact malady had given Tomas and Cameron ample room to begin betting on what illnesses Connor must be suffering from. As the tiny Obrioner force had marched away from Harz, Connor had overheard Tomas insisting it must be mind-rot, while Cameron argued for severe bunions from blasting fire out his feet so often.
Aifric appeared at his side unexpectedly an hour after lunch the next day while he and Ilse were headed for the small lake north of the fortress. He started in surprise and laughed. "Aifric! Where did you come from?"
"Here and there," she said with a shrug and a smile. "Harz is fascinating, but I don't think Dougal's assassins have arrived yet. But Gisela just did."
"Gisela? Why would she be here?"
Aifric shrugged. "I suspect you should ask her. She's been sent to Wolfram's study." She regarded him more closely. "Do you have any idea why Ailsa would send one of her students into Granadure during a time of war?"
"I think we need to go find out."
Aifric didn't know Gisela's secret, but since she was now part of his team, it was time she learned. Gisela was an agent for the Arishat League, assigned as a contact to Ailsa, who ran an intricate intelligence-gathering organization.
She was also one of the few at the Carraig who had known Connor's secrets and helped him plot ways to escape Shona's control. If Gisela was at Harz, she'd know how Ailsa was doing, and probably a lot more.
"We're due to meet with the Flameweavers," Ilse pointed out.
"You'll have to take care of it. This is important."
Ilse didn't look happy about having to meet the Flameweavers alone, but he bolted. Aifric ran easily beside him as they made for the central keep.
"Do you know if Jean and the others have been informed?" Connor asked.
"I sent word."
Jean, Hamish, and Verena caught up in the hallway leading to Wolfram's office, their hair a bit wild after the fast flight over from the Builder laboratory. The guard was expecting them, and he opened the door immediately. Inside the office, a slender woman with white-blonde hair was seated at a chair in front of Wolfram's cluttered desk, facing the general.
"Gisela!" Jean rushed in and the two embraced, laughing.
Connor gave Gisela a hug in turn. "What are you doing here?"
"I have representing the Arishat League," she said in her lightly accented voice.
Aifric nodded. "I knew there was more to you. Should have looked into it."
"Why is a Healer having interest in me?" Gisela asked with a frown.
"It's kind of a long story," Connor explained.
"You can telling me later. I have bringing a message from your Aunt Ailsa."
That was great news. Ailsa had been his mentor, his primary confidant, and a treasured friend during the difficult times at the Carraig. "Is she well?"
Gisela nodded. "Very busy with sculpting many orders."
He felt relieved that Ailsa hadn't been punished for her association with him.
Kilian walked into the room, with Martys trailing behind. Kilian said, "I was afraid of that. Now that the war has started, it only makes sense for them to build up their arsenal of sculpted stones."
"She is finding many flaws in the stone," Gisela said with a wink. "A sculpted stone is always taking much time, but she may being very late in delivery."
Connor grinned. "Glad to hear she hasn't changed."
Kilian said, "That should buy some time, but she's not the only sculptor in Obrion."
"Ha!" Martys grunted. "Little Ailsa proves that good gear comes in small bulk."
Connor asked, "How do you know Ailsa? You never lived in Alasdair."
"She's famous, lad."
Gisela extracted a small rolled parchment from a pocket of her skirt and handed it to Connor. As he unrolled it she said, "Is lists of sculpted stones by house. I am thinking this list is very complete."
"No doubt you left a copy with your mother too," Kilian said.
Connor was not surprised that Kilian knew who Gisela was, or that he knew her mother. What did surprise him was that the list was so short. High Lord Dougal possessed twelve sculpted stones, three times as many as any other house.
Verena slipped under his arm to get a look at the paper. "He has so many!"
"I wouldn't usually think twelve is a big number," Hamish said.
"It is being many for sculpted stones," Gisela explained. "There are being no more than two sculpted in most years, and they have dividing among all the high houses."
"It took only one to destroy Redmund and raise an elfonnel through him," Jean pointed out.
Connor nodded. "So he's still got eleven, and we know he's targeting one for Ivor."
"I hope he doesn't take it," Jean whispered, and Connor heartily agreed.
"That leaves ten more," Kilian said grimly. "We need to locate and capture them if Granadure is to have any hope of surviving this war."
"That's assuming none of the other houses use any of theirs," Connor said.
Jean asked, "Do you think the other houses will commit their sculpted stones so early in the war?"
Kilian said, "It's possible, but unlikely."
"Why not?" Connor asked.
"Think about it. They'll know Dougal's got more. He can afford to spend them," Jean said. She pointed at the parchment. "House Islay's only got two. I bet they'll hoard that treasure until the moment that using it would guarantee a major victory. Otherwise, the loss would outweigh the benefit."
Kilian gave her an approving nod. "You studied hard at the Carraig."
She blushed. "Thank you."
Wolfram said, "Our primary focus remains the successful defense of Harz."
Kilian nodded. "After that, this group's primary focus must be to capture Dougal's other sculpte
d stones. We can worry about the other houses after that."
"I will helping you," Gisela said.
"As a friend and a student of Ailsa? Or as a representative of the Arishat League?" Kilian asked.
"Both. I am interesting to help you myself, and I can informing you that the Arishat armies will ready to invading Obrion if the invasion continues having success."
"I didn't think the Arishat League had many Petralists. How could you possibly invade?" Hamish asked.
Gisela said, "We are having few Petralists, mostly defending the generals. But for three hundred years, our nations are knowing that Obrion will someday attacking. We have focusing learning powers of the world not magic."
"What non-magical powers?" Verena asked, looking very interested.
When Gisela hesitated Kilian said, "We're sharing much with you, and if you stay, you'll see even more. The chances of the Arishat League needing to attack Granadure are minimal, and you know it. Trust goes both ways."
She nodded. "I think you will being correct. Each nation of the Arishat are many different. Althing has developing clever scientists with deeply knowledge of the chemicals and elements of the world. They have developing weapons of these that can disable even mighty Petralists."
"How is that possible?" Connor asked.
Gisela shrugged. "I am not scientist or warrior, so I am knowing little exactly how these are working."
"And the other Arishat countries?" Verena asked.
Gisela glanced toward the north. "Varvakis has making marvelous discovery just in last decade. They have learning to harnessing the Beautiful Dancers and stones that grab steel."
Connor said, "You told me the Beautiful Dancers are the lights along the far northern horizon, right?"
Gisela nodded. "I have not seeing how they harnessing the dancers, or what rocks grab steel, but my mother traveling there recently. She told me they have building lanterns that glowing with no fire. They have planning lights for the entire city."
"They create lights without fire and without limestone?" Jean asked.
"And how do lights represent a weapon?" Hamish asked.
Connor had used his Solas and the marvelous prism lanterns from the Rhidorroch to disable three entire armies for a critical moment in one of the mock battles, so it was possible.
Gisela shrugged. "I am knowing little more. Sehrazad is different focusing. They having too much sand, and developing kinds of glass that cannot be shattering."
Hamish barked a laugh. "Now you're making things up."
Gisela shook her head. "More bizarre than even unbreaking glass is rumors I have hearing from Tabnit, across the sea. They have discovering a black sand that can exploding with incredible anger."
"Diorite?" Connor asked.
"I am thinking no. They are using black angry sand in the mouths of long serpent weapons. The fire is so angry that it throws huge arrows and rocks hard enough to destroying a ship."
"Thank you for sharing what you've heard," Kilian said thoughtfully as he paced to one wall where a large map of the entire continent hung.
"Even this much information gives us hope that help could come if we need it. Please request more details from your mother. We need to begin developing joint counterattack strategies. In turn, we will share with you what we know. Together we can stop this invasion and restore peace."
"Gisela, I'd like to talk with you some more about how Aunt Ailsa is doing," Connor said.
"Of course. I am hope to speaking with you more too. My mother has asking many questions about what happening at the Carraig."
Connor wasn't sure he was ready to share everything with her mother and the rest of the Arishat League, but she already knew about porphyry and the secret of the unclaimed.
Verena gave Gisela a hug. "Welcome to the team. I'm looking forward to getting to know you more. Right now, I've got to get back to that keystone."
Jean nodded eagerly. "I think we should test non-Builder flight today, if possible."
"Oh no you don't," Hamish exclaimed. "You can't start a dangerous experiment just like that. Certain precautions have to be taken. Like eating a big lunch."
"We ate lunch an hour ago," Verena pointed out.
"But we didn't give it the right focus. Any meal could be your last, especially if you're about to fly for the first time."
Chapter Thirty-One
"A hunter may enter the den of a bear if his strength is sufficient to take the prize, but he risks much that would be avoided had he chosen a safer path."
~Evander
Jean felt a thrill of nervous excitement as the windrider rose into the warm afternoon sky, with Verena at the controls. She and Hamish sat on either side on the high front bench. Jean would soon get her turn to try piloting the huge wagon.
They'd spent the past hour reviewing the controls and the plan while still safely on the ground. It had all seemed so clear and simple there, but now her heart raced as her turn loomed.
"I still think this is a really bad idea," Hamish said as they rose fifty feet above the field behind the Builder lab at the outskirts of Harz township.
"Relax," Jean told him and reminded herself the same thing. "We've taken abundant precautions."
"She's not even flying yet, and you're acting like a scared old maid," Verena laughed.
"You won't be laughing when she crashes this thing and gets hurt." Of course he didn't suggest that he or Verena would get hurt. He was wearing his battle suit, and Verena was more bird than human in the air.
Jean was determined to identify the underlying principles that made flight possible. If Verena could do it, Jean would find a way to figure out how to train others.
If she didn't die today.
To keep her fears at bay, she watched Verena carefully, but there was not a whole lot to see. Verena lightly grasped the controls, shifting her grip at random-seeming times.
Five long, quartzite-lined levers extended up in front of the high pilot bench seat where they sat. Each lever linked to different thrusters. The first lever controlled tip-over balance, followed by lean-over balance, slip-spin left and right, main lift thrusters, and finally the main push thrusters.
"Why did you just make that shift?" Jean asked as Verena moved a hand to the first lever, and a small thruster set into the front, left corner of the wagon fired for a second.
"Didn't you feel that shift in the tip-over balance?" Verena asked.
Jean shook her head. She was too new to flying to have a feel for the wagon, even though it was far more stable than the Storm or the Swift, and clearly the best choice for initial testing.
"Are you really ready for this?" Hamish asked.
"Nearly. Let's review the levers one more time." She took a deep breath to settle her thoughts, then touched the first lever. "Tip-over balance is the forward or backward leaning of the wagon, the vertical angle away from the ideal midpoint."
There were so many new terms and principles to learn before she could start quantifying flight, she wanted to squeal with excitement.
She glanced down at her notebook in her lap and frowned. "One question has been bugging me. Why don't we use nautical terms for some of these principles?"
"We're not sailing," Hamish said.
"I know, but some of the movements are similar. For example, the tip-over balance is the same principle as 'pitch'. The lean-over balance is similar to 'roll', and the slip-spin-drag is a fair approximation of 'yaw'."
"I always thought yaw was a stupid word," Hamish said.
Verena said, "Some of the principles are similar, but flying isn't the same as sailing. I decided not to use nautical terms when we first started flying because re-using terms that are similar, but not exactly the same, can be even more confusing."
Jean said, "Makes sense, but to me it's harder this way."
"I thought you loved to learn new things," Hamish said.
"I do, but I don't like spending effort learning new words when old ones might do. Better to spend the time s
tudying truly new things."
"Flying is about as new as it gets," Verena said with a smile. "Trust me, once you start feeling the air and begin to control the movement, you'll realize it's really not the same."
Hamish nodded. "If a boat rolls entirely over, it sinks, but it's not a big deal for us in the air."
"It is if you're riding in the back," Verena said. "Passengers can't exceed the lean-over tip-out point."
"All right," Jean said, seeing she wouldn't convince them yet, but still jotting down the equivalent nautical terms in her notebook. "Back to the controls."
She touched the second lever. "This controls lean-over thrusters that manage the sideways roll of the wagon, or the horizontal angle."
Verena nodded. "Both of these first two levers are subject to the slip-spin-drag properties." She moved her hands rapidly across the control levers and sent the Windrider into a slow, flat spin.
Hamish said, "Gotta watch the slip-spin or it'll get you every time."
"You think about all of this while you're flying?" Jean asked, amazed and a little daunted. They spoke as if it was so simple and obvious.
Hamish grinned. "If we didn't, we wouldn't be flying for long."
"It's not as hard as it sounds," Verena reassured her. "After a while, you just feel the air and the craft and respond without really having to think about it."
"Well, I need to think about it, or we'll never figure out how to explain and teach it." Once she took control of the levers, maybe it would make more sense. "How do I start?"
"I think we're too high," Hamish said.
Verena shook her head. "If anything, we should go higher. It would take longer to fall and more time for you to save Jean if something goes badly."
While he thought about that, Jean said, "Besides, if I have to unbuckle from this safety harness and jump free, I might need a little space for this catch-fall mechanical to save me."
"We don't even know it'll work," Hamish protested.
Jean loved him so much her heart ached sometimes. Other times, it ached with annoyance.
She understood that his over-protective attitude was a response to his inability to save Ingrid at the plateau. That didn't mean she needed to accept his reaction to that loss as the best one. She accepted the dangerous things he was now called upon to do, but he needed to learn to accept that she could be brave too.
