Jeanne G'Fellers - Sisters Flight (17 page)

"There's
one more post before we reach the cages." Kaelan nodded to a dugout
farther up the hill. "Phase blind Auts are posted there, so Norlynn's
talent won't be much use."

"Neither
will our noisy guns," grumbled Ora, the trooper standing next to her.
"How do we go about this one?"

I
peered out over the darkened landscape. "Divide up. Ora, you and Norlynn
take the Yauld and approach from the east. Kaelan and I will take the others
and go at it from the west. Don't make your move until I signal you."

"What
signal?" Norlynn pulled her cloak a bit tighter.

"You'll
know it when you see it."

And
so the team divided, each group making its way along opposite sides of the
pass. Unlike the outer posts, these guards were alert and sober. They walked
their post at regular intervals, talking and chewing Aut pilta when their paths
crossed. When they'd parted ways, I drew a short tube from my cloak. "A
little something I borrowed from Laszlo," I whispered back to Kaelan as I
loaded the tube with a needle. When the guards were the farthest distance
apart, I placed the tube to my mouth and blew, launching the dart at the Autlach's
neck when he was close to Norlynn's group. Ora caught the man before he hit the
ground and pulled him into the dark, Norlynn emerging a moment later wearing
his cloak and sword. She nodded to me, pulled up her hood and began to retrace
the Autlach's tracks. When she met up with the other guard she lunged, driving
her dagger through the Autlach's heart, but not before he called out.

Cursing,
Norlynn grasped him by the neck and twisted, halting his cry. She signaled to
Ora and the two stripped him of his cloak then pulled him behind a boulder. Ora
donned the man's cloak and resumed his post, walking the opposite direction of
Norlynn. Tense moments passed while the rest of us clung to the shadows in case
the Autlach's scream had been heard. One sentry did make a brief appearance at
the top of the hill, but Norlynn waved at him and he departed. I then let
several more moments pass before we reconvened.

"Are
you certain there are no more sentry posts between here and the cages?"
Norlynn asked Kaelan as she tossed aside the dead Aut's cloak in favor of the
heavier one she'd been wearing before.

"That's
it besides the ones at the actual pens." Kaelan swung her sword to check
its balance. "I know a few guards who I'd like to feed this to."

"Only
if they get in our way," I said.

Kaelan
frowned. "That thought's been keeping me going for quite some time."
Then she took in the seriousness of my expression. "But I know we're here
to do other things. Just wishful thinking."

"I
understand." I touched her shoulder.

"We
all have those thoughts," Ora whispered. "Do the pen guards wear
lenses?"

"Of
course they do." I told my team to stay put then crawled with Norlynn to
the top of the hill. The mine grounds below were quiet save for the rustle of
the work nassies and the gentle sounds of the nearby river. The prisoners
huddled in their pens.

"I
sampled Kaelan's mind a bit and can tell you I share her sentiment."
Norlynn pressed her body low to the ground beside me. "I loathe
Auts."

I
glanced over the mine camp again. "Don't let that feeling go to your head
down there."

"You
sound like Evangeline," she said with a snarl and quickly backed down the
slope.

I
noted the sentries' positions then retreated as well, proud that I had been
part of such a comparison.

"Nothing
has changed," I said when I'd returned to my team. That said, we slinked
over the hilltop and down the opposite slope until we were behind the broadback
pens. At that point I motioned the team to divide again, positioning them on
opposite ends of the pen row. At my signal, all six of us rushed the sentries,
removing their lenses and disabling them before more than a yelp could escape
their mouths. We relieved them of their keys and opened the doors to the pens.
Kaelan and I stepped into the nearest pen and whispered a Taelach greeting to
the occupants.

"Welcome
to the crystal mine." The door swung shut behind us.

We
were grabbed from behind, stripped of our weapons and pushed to the ground.
Kaelan remained prone out of slave instinct, but I looked to see Longpass in the
rear of the pen. Frest's recently sheared head swung in his left hand and
Frest's son stood beside him, beaming with the knowledge of his place within
Raskhallak's eternal palace as his father's blood dripped from his sword.

"Raskhallak
waits for you in the cleansing fires." The boy swung out, bouncing the
sword point off the ground near my head. "And I await the death of the
miserable Whitehairs whose bewitching poisoned my dah beyond saving."

Chapter
Eleven

Toy

Master:
Mercy is the knowledge that your enemy won't die by your hand.

Rankil

"You're
merely a woman." Longpass pulled me back by the hair to see my
lens-covered eyes. I stood facing him, my hands and legs bound to a pole
imbedded in the riverbank sand. "A woman!" he continued and pulled
harder until I opened my eyes to look at him. "And I had so hoped I had a
real enemy on my hands."

I
dropped my head when he released it and tried again to ignore his ramblings. He
was obviously puzzled by me and pissed by my refusal to talk back. He demonstrated
his feelings with the back of his hand. Still, I stood quietly, glancing occasionally
beyond him to the pens where all three teams were being held. They were safe,
for now, but I was certain they would find themselves on the pole as soon as
Longpass had finished toying with me.

"Talk."
He grasped me by the jaw and squeezed, pushing my cheeks between my teeth.
"Your people have tracked and hunted me from one end of this river valley
to the other, and not one of you has lived to tell the tale. What makes you
think you're capable of keeping me from doing Raskhallak's bidding?" He
released his grip and leaned close to my ear. "What do you think of your
enemy now, woman?"

"In
all honesty," I said as I exercised my jaw. "I think you need a
bath."

"Blasphemy!"
Longpass hit me again. "I am washed by my faith, by Raskhallak's
teachings. That is what I bathe in."

"A
soaping stone and water would work better." Several guards smirked as
Longpass smacked me hard enough to split my lower lip. He had paced a shallow
trench in the sand in front of me, punctuating every turn with a flip of his
fur wrap. Longpass wasn't a particularly tall man, or an overly attractive one.
In fact, he was fat, but he was a religious icon, a very powerful Aut,
something I needed to keep in mind with my next reply if I wanted to live.

"Do
not mock me, Rankil Danston." He turned to face me. "I am ordained by
Raskhallak to cleanse you of your wicked ways and mouth. Shall I do it
now?"

"No,
please." Submission. My mouth could barely form the words.

"I
didn't hear you." Longpass placed his hand on my throat. "Did you ask
for mercy, Whitewitch?" he asked in a loud voice.

I
had to comply. "Mercy," I garbled through his pressing hand.
"Have mercy."

"That's
what I thought you said." He stepped back and turned to face his clerics
and guards. "See how easily even the wildest witch can be tamed?"

Tamed?
I would submit because I had to, but I was not an animal to be broken—not
anymore. "You must have misunderstood. I was asking the Great Mother to
have mercy on
you."

"And
still she mocks my authority." Longpass turned back to me as gasps rose
from his entourage. "With all your talk of bathing, you must want a
bath." He motioned to his guards. "Strip her, dunk her in the river
then place her in the display cage."

"Do
we return her clothes?" asked one guard.

"No,"
said Longpass. "Display her bare."

I
began to meditate away his words so I could focus on my body. Warmth. I had to
stay warm.

"But
the cold," I heard one of his clerics object in a worried tone. "She
won't survive long enough to be properly cleansed in the fire this
evening."

So
much for mercy.

"She's
a resourceful witch. I'm certain she'll live long enough," said Longpass.
He wrapped his fur tighter around his shoulders and turned toward the small,
heated stone shed Voz used as a workspace. "But if she doesn't, we can
burn her frozen bones after I make her head a trophy. Either way, she is
cleansed. Either way, she tastes the flames she fed me. Either way, she's
dead."

Chapter
Twelve

Storm

Apprentice:
But what of the birth mother?

Master:
Treat her as your sister. Nothing more, nothing less.

Kaelan

I
knew the smell that rose from the riverbank and
recognized the odd, clear tone of the flames. They were burning Creen, a sappy
wood whose greenwood smoke gagged but burned hot. The Taelach used Creen in
their funeral pyres, and the Autlach used it to dispose of living Taelachs.
Longpass had ordered the wood piled high, higher than I remembered seeing
during my slavery, high for a single purpose—burning Rankil's body after her
decapitation.

Rankil
lay shivering in a nearby cage while the surviving members of the teams,
including Evangeline and me, had been placed in two pens. Evangeline sat beside
me, and by her appearance, she sat in deep meditation, searching for some
manner in which to circumvent the amber lens covering her face.

"Waste
of time," I whispered in heavily accented Old Tongue. "I tried more
times than I can count."

"Rankil
informed me of your knowledge. Said it was Serpent teaching?" Evangeline
crinkled her brow.

"Slave
sisters use the Old Tongue to talk around their Aut keepers who know
Taelach."

"Interesting."
Evangeline winced as her phase bounced against her lens and back into her mind,
where it echoed incessantly, just as mine had a thousand times. "I've been
trying to tap Trooper Rankil to check her physical status." She parted one
eye to gaze at me. "She has barely moved since they deposited her in that
box."

"I
saw the worst of it before you were brought in." I shifted in the dirt.
"It wasn't as bad as she looks. If Longpass had wanted to kill her with
that torture, he would have."

"She's
wet."

"They
dunked her in the river."

"I
was afraid of that. I hope she can remember what I taught her about energy
reserves."

"Will
it keep her warm?"

"Warmer,
hopefully." Evangeline winced again then shrugged and scooted closer to
me.

"I
was her first Taelach raiser." I hung my head so my voice wouldn't carry.
"She's endured worse than this to get where she is today."

"So
I've heard. You taught her well."

"Not
well enough," I said. "I taught her all I know, she rose to
prominence within the Tekks, and none of that is enough to get her out of this
situation."

"This
situation has yet to be resolved." Evangeline nodded toward the festive banners
and lanterns being strung along the shoreline. "Something is happening. Is
this celebratory atmosphere customary of your Autlachs at burnings?"

I
squinted toward the shoreline. "Not to this extent. It's usually more of a
murder orgy."

"Then
I suggest we see what is going to happen before we make further plans."
Evangeline and I took turns glancing at the celebration preparations then
sharing our observations with each other, and through each other's images
managed to paint a detailed picture of the happenings without drawing the
guards' attention.

The
riverbank soon blared in garish color. The sands were cleared of debris, tents
patterned with battle scenery were raised, and two nassie foals were set to
roast over an open pit. Barges began arriving. There were Autlach women among
the passengers, finely draped women who remained on the sands to chatter and
keep away from the slave stink. The men, however, walked among the pens and
paused at length by the gentlewomen pens to ogle. Longpass was among them. He
boasted that every man would have the carnal pleasure of his pick before the
night was over and then continued his walk, passing our pen to pause at Rankill's
cage, where he pissed on her bare feet. "Don't want to sour my
trophy." He laughed, and Evangeline and I exchanged anguished glances.

Longpass
seemed more than happy about his triumph as he moved about. He thanked
Raskhallak in most every breath for the blessings the day had brought.
"He's granted me the best of wedding presents." His voice boomed
across the pens. "Not only did I thwart an attempted invasion of the
mines, but in the process I captured the one who has eluded me for so
long." He rattled Rankil's cage door, causing her to stir. "Soon the
Whitewitch and their treachery will be nothing but a memory."

"I've
heard your men were massing," said one of his followers.