Of Blood and Fire, page 14
“If they’re on top of the Sheer, then it’s likely to be gilded riders,” Jarin said. “They’ve been establishing supply and watch stations in the ranges beyond the Beak, we know that. This is likely just one more step in that process.”
Neera glanced at him. “They reported sighting birds flying in the vicinity, but it wasn’t birds they saw on the Sheer. Low-lying clouds now bind that entire region, unfortunately, but even if it is men rather than birds they saw, there’s no other means of getting up there aside from being flown.”
“Which may well be what they’re doing,” I said. “Given they’d planned to fly soldiers over the Blue Steel Mountains into Arleeon, it’s not beyond the realms of possibility they’re building up a force on the Sheer in order to fly them into Esan herself.”
“Not beyond,” Garran said, “but definitely not a wise military move, given how easily they could be picked off from the ground.”
“Unfortunately,” Jarin said, voice dry, “the riders appear to have thrown any military rule book out the window.”
“And that makes them unpredictable and even more dangerous,” I said.
“Yes, indeed.” Garran glanced at me. “Could you and your drakkons fly out there and investigate?”
“If investigate means destroy, the drakkons will be more than happy to do so.”
“Do remember that the riders have powerful mages in their midst, so it’s possible that what the watch station reported is not what is truly out there,” Damon said and motioned toward the Mareritten encampment. “The fog shields are a new magic for the Mareritt, and one they probably learned from the gilded riders, so we have to presume the riders have other types of concealment spells in their magical armory that they haven’t shared.”
“The drakkons are sensitive to magic,” I said. “If we have any sense of it, we’ll retreat.”
“Really?” Damon said, disbelief very evident.
I smiled. “Well, we might take a tiny look behind any magical veil they’ve raised if it doesn’t feel dangerous, but if what we find is legions of flighted birds, we’re out of there.”
“Hmm” was all he said to that.
“Which still leaves us with the two fog shields in Mareritten,” Garran said and glanced at Damon. “Is there any means you or your fellow blood witches can devise to counter their magic?”
“Depends on what you mean by counter. As Bryn has proven, if you can find and destroy their anchoring stones, any magic attached will come down. However, the shield near the forest is mobile, so it’s likely the anchors are mounted on wagons and stationed at multiple points within the fog rather than along the outer edges. Makes them harder to find and destroy without risking life and limb.”
“Is there no way to temporarily displace their magic to see beyond it?”
“Theoretically yes, but logistically it’s nearly impossible from so far away and without knowing what type of magic is in use.” Damon hesitated. “There is an easier option, though—I go out and investigate.”
“Not alone,” I immediately said. “And certainly not before your mage strength returns. The whites of your eyes still bloom a bloody hue.”
“I will be fine once I eat,” he replied evenly, his gaze finding mine. Bedevilment danced in those bloody depths.
I rolled my eyes and did my best to ignore the immediate leap of my pulse rate.
“As much as I wish I could approve such an action,” Garran was saying, “any movement through the gate will be seen by the Mareritt.”
“He could create some sort of invisibility shield.” Jarin frowned across at Damon. “Your magic can do that, can’t it?”
“Yes, but—”
“It remains impractical,” Garran cut in. “The mere act of opening the lower gates will signal an exit. They’ll likely be keeping an eye on the wicket, too.”
Because we’d used that single-person gateway in the past to get around their forces at the main gate.
“There is another option,” Damon said. “The tunnel.”
“That’s risky, especially given Makki didn’t specifically say it went into Mareritten. He said it was a rodent run into the mountains.” I glanced at Garran and added, “Makki used an old escape tunnel that runs from the royal suite down to the servants’ quarters to get into my suite. Apparently it runs on into the military zone and then skims the edges of the Blue Steel mountains into Mareritten.”
“I’ve never heard of such a tunnel,” Jarin said, frowning, “but if it does exist, it would be a brilliant means of getting a military force into Mareritten unseen, and might even let us get behind the bastards.”
“We don’t know as yet if it remains viable, let alone large enough to enable a company of soldiers through,” Damon said. “But it is worth investigating.”
And it gave him something to do while I was off flying my drakkons. He didn’t say that, but I nevertheless heard it deep inside. It made me wonder what he intended to do with his time once this war was over.
Explore, came the reply. This place, these lands, my wife....
His answer whispered through my thoughts, as clear as if he’d spoken them out loud. What had once been little more than instinctive understanding was developing into a clear line of communication. I raised an eyebrow at him, got a wash of soft amusement in reply, and returned my attention to the conversation.
“I agree, but Bryn is right about the risks.” Garran glanced at Jarin. “Can we afford to pull an earth mage from the wall-bolstering detail?”
“In order to find a passage that would allow us to get into Mareritten undetected? Definitely.”
“Might be worth laying in some protective measures along the passage if it is viable,” I said. “If we can use it to get out, then they can use it to get in.”
“Easily enough done,” Damon said, “though I would need the blood of a Mareritt to fully ensure viability.”
A smile twitched Garran’s lips. “I’m sure that can be arranged.”
“Before you blood him, it might be worth questioning him,” I said. “The Mareritt have obviously been trading with the gilded riders for some time now and should know where their home country is.”
“If you’re thinking of flying the drakkons out there, I don’t think it wise,” Garran said. “Eight drakkons cannot possibly defeat an entire nation of winged monstrosities. It would be better to find whatever waystation they’re using to fly these additional soldiers up onto the Sheer, and destroy that.”
“We already know they’re coming from the northeast,” Jarin said. “And that they’re using Ezu as a waypoint for their birds, along with a number of barges midway between the islands and Mareritten—”
“Which suggests to me the birds might not have the flight stamina of the drakkons,” Garran cut in. “And that does make sense, given the combined weight of their metal feathers and their armor-clad riders.”
“Which reminds me,” I said. “Has there been any word from Franklyn and his team about the weapon they’re developing to cut through that armor?”
We’d handed them several packs stuffed with the bits and pieces of armor we’d retrieved from the Mareritten dead at Hopetown well over a week ago now, and while I was aware it could take some time to develop such a weapon, time was the one thing we were running short on.
“They’re currently working with alchemists on recreating a version of the acid using the sample we have and adding a liquid fire accelerant to increase volume and flammability,” Jarin said. “They hope to have something workable within the next day or so.”
“Because making an unstable liquid even more unstable doesn’t sound dangerous at all,” I said wryly.
Garran cast me a brief but amused glance. “Where’d they get the acid sample from?”
“We pilfered it from a supply station up near the Beak before we destroyed it,” Damon said.
“But wouldn’t the riders’ armor be immune to the acid? There’d have to be instances where they’re forced to fly through its backwash.”
“A backwash is very different to a concentrated spray,” I commented. “It’s like us with the backwash of drakkon fire—we feel it, but it doesn’t affect us.”
It may well affect our coats and clothes, but I wasn’t about to tell him that.
Garran grunted, though whether that meant he agreed it was the same sort of thing, I couldn’t say.
“Is it possible to capture and question one of the riders?” Neera asked. “About where the riders come from, I mean.”
“We have,” I said. “That’s how we know they come from the northeast.”
“Yes, but your methods were no doubt a lot cruder than what we could employ here,” she said. “A mind cipher could pluck details from a prisoner no matter how uncooperative he otherwise is, simply by being in his mind when questions were asked.”
“Mind ciphering is dangerous,” Garran commented.
“Any magic that allows one mind to slip into another is dangerous,” I said. “There are more than a few tales of animal stregas becoming forever mind lost and broken by going too deep.”
“Which is why all ciphers have an empiric on hand to ensure safe retrieval if things go wrong,” Neera said.
Empiric basically being a fancy name for a man or woman magically connected to the cipher who could pull him out if his mind became too enmeshed with that of his subject.
“What are the chances of you getting a rider alive?” Garran asked me.
“Zero to none. Drakkons don’t believe in captives.”
Can’t hurt if dead, Kaia commented.
“A point I really can’t argue with, given what they’ve gone through. But if the option arises, do try.”
Or not, Kaia said.
“Which brings us back to the rodent run,” Garran continued. “Have we a scouting team free to accompany our mage and Damon?”
“Kerryn’s group,” Jarin said. “They’ve worked with the prince—”
“I’m no prince. Just call me Damon.”
“—before and are familiar with his magic and methods,” Jarin finished with a smile.
“Have them advised they will be moving out on foot in the morning.” Garran switched his gaze to me. “Can you leave the aerie without being spotted by either the Mareritt or the riders?”
“By the Mareritt, yes, but the riders have a watch station set up here”—I leaned forward and pointed to an area beyond the Beak—“and if it’s not fog bound, they will report our presence, given it’s rather hard to conceal six large drakkons.”
“Six?” Garran frowned. “I thought there were eight?”
“There are, but I’ll order Miri and Halka to remain here and do a sweep across the peaks in the morning, as usual. Hopefully that’ll stop the Mareritt thinking anything is out of the ordinary.”
“Can drakkons fly in foul weather?”
“Yes but—”
“Jarin,” he said, “contact the air mages. Tell them I want the mother of all storms sitting on those peaks by dawn.”
“Thanks in advance, cousin, for making the morning flight an absolutely miserable one.”
“Better miserable than dead.” He motioned to the two of us. “Go get some rest. You both head out at dawn.”
“Can you send a message to Kele?” I asked. “Get her to roust the team for a pre-dawn journey up the mountain.”
Garran glanced at Neera, who immediately walked over to the nearest scribe tablet to send the message to the barrack commander. “Now, as I said, go rest.”
I saluted crisply, grinned at his pained expression, then turned and followed Damon from the room.
Once we were through the mess of people and desks, Damon caught my hand to pull me closer, then wrapped an arm around my waist as we walked up the stairs.
“You still stink,” I said, amused.
“I plan a bath.”
“I’m pleased. Breakfast cannot be had until all utensils are clean.”
He laughed and we continued on to our room. Once Janis had resumed her position in the corridor, Damon continued on to the bathing area while I unstrapped my knife and took a moment to admire my husband. His every movement was filled with grace and understated power, and it struck me then that his brother, for all that they looked almost identical, hadn’t moved with the same sort of litheness.
“When did you become your brother’s double?” I asked curiously. “Was it something that happened over time, or was there a reason?”
He half shrugged. “A bit of both, but I stepped fully into his military shoes when I was twenty-two. Damon was seriously injured in a scouting mission that went wrong, and our father decided he could not risk losing his eldest son to the Mareritt.”
“But he has Tayte—”
Hot water spluttered into the tub, somewhat smothering his contemptuous snort. “Tayte is a ninnyhammer. We should both be very thankful he went out of his way to avoid marrying you.”
I hung up my knife harness, then moved over to the scribe to order our breakfast to be delivered in a couple of hours. “Did your father force you into replacing your brother?”
“Initially, no, because he used the bait of moving my mother and sisters into palace quarters—”
“Where were they initially?”
“Servant quarters.” He grimaced. “But he and my mother also had an ‘arrangement’—she would share his bed whenever he desired, and he would provide the appropriate training for me and whatever children she bred of him.”
“Did he do that for all his lovers?”
“No.”
Did that mean he had, in his own strange way, cared for Damon’s mother? I couldn’t imagine it, given what I knew of the man, but there had to be something there for him to treat her illegitimate children differently to all the others.
I placed the quill pen back in its holder, then walked across to the bathing area. “So, it was your mother he came to think had spelled him, rather than his wife?”
“If he had believed that of my mother, he would have had her killed and my sisters would not have been born. His wife—Lara—was a gifted reader and could often change someone’s opinion simply by understanding the thought processes behind them. I believe my father came to believe it was a manipulative magic, and, thanks to the cooling of the trade relationship between her people and Zephrine, concluded he had been coerced into the marriage.” He grimaced. “He wasn’t, of course, because that was not part of her skill set. She was a kind soul who did not deserve his scorn or his hatred.”
“Does that mean theirs was an arranged marriage?”
“Only in the sense that it was part of the price paid for the trade deal he was seeking.”
“So, just like our marriage, he was after the trade benefits that came with the woman, not the woman herself.”
“And bedded her out of duty, not emotion.” His wicked smile flashed and did evil things to my pulse rate. “Not a problem our marriage faces, that is for certain.”
No, even though I had, for the longest time, feared that might be the case. As Damon had said, thank Vahree Tayte was a ninnyhammer and Aric had come to the bargaining table intent on his plots and schemes.
I skirted around the bath and continued on to the hole Makki had made in the wall. It sat in the shadows at the base of the shelving holding the towels, soapweeds, and other bathing paraphernalia, and was little more than a foot-square crawl space. I had to wonder how either man had squeezed through it without me hearing, given most men’s shoulders tended to be at least sixteen inches wide, and both Makki and Prince Damon had a good few inches on that. But then, I hadn’t heard the stone being remodeled, either, so maybe whatever they’d put in the shamoke had been strong enough to hold me in sleep for at least a couple of hours. Thank Vahree I hadn’t consumed it all, or he would have forced himself on my unwaking body.
Not, Kaia said. Would have burned.
I blinked. Meaning you can force my flames to life?
Share what see, why not flames?
Why not, indeed. And at least if Aric or Prince Damon did decide to retaliate in some manner, I would be protected, unconscious or not. While I didn’t think they would do anything now that their plans had been fully revealed, it never paid to underestimate the enemy. Still, with Aric being sent home in the morning, that was one less problem we had to worry about for now.
I dropped onto my stomach and cast a small ball of fire into the hole. A rodent squeaked indignantly and skittered away to my left, but there was no other indication of life between the two walls.
“This is a somewhat ominous sign,” Damon drawled. “I take it you have no immediate plans to share my bath?”
“Oh, I most certainly do, but with that coat of grime you’re wearing, it’ll take a good ten minutes or so for you to reach a satisfactorily eatable state.” I scooted forward a little and warily stuck my head through the gap. “Ten minutes should give me enough time to satiate one desire so I can spend more time on the others.”
“This is going to be a pattern in our marriage, isn’t it?”
I glanced at him. “What is?”
“You chasing after curiosity rather than desire.”
I laughed. “There is plenty of time for desire yet. Dawn’s fingers won’t creep across the sky for at least another couple of hours.”
“Hmm” he said, echoing his earlier response.
I laughed again, blew him a kiss, then shifted onto my back and carefully levered myself into the flame-lit darkness beyond. My shoulders scraped the hole’s sides, the rough stone tearing into the wool and digging into skin, but the rest of me got through relatively easily. The gap between the two walls was high, but it was barely two feet wide, and I couldn’t help but wonder again how in Vahree’s name Makki had managed to get in here without making a racket or scraping his shoulders raw.
I released the sides of the hole, thrust my hands on the old passage’s black flagstone flooring to brace myself, and then dragged myself into a sitting position. The flames from the ball I’d tossed in a few minutes ago danced off the black stone and highlighted the dust-laden cobwebs that filled the space to my right. I hoped that meant the spiders had long gone. I wasn’t afraid of them, but I wasn’t a fan of them crawling willy-nilly across my skin, either. Anything that tried that was likely to get crisped in an instant.
