Of Bone and Thunder (28 page)

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Authors: Chris Evans

BOOK: Of Bone and Thunder
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“Let me know when the flight is on aether,” he said, reaching down with his right hand to stroke Carduus's scales before grabbing the reins.

“Aye, Sky Horse Leader,” Breeze said.

It was more error than trial, but they were slowly working the newts out of the cauldron. Vorly half listened as Breeze brought the other RATs onto the aether plane and verified every sheet was fully aligned. She was
the youngest RAT assigned to the flock, and even though they all had been given the same rank of aether operator, she was clearly their leader. Based on what he'd now seen and heard, she knew how to throw a punch and how to avoid one. Vorly shook his head. He'd never been as challenged by a woman in his life as he was by her, and certainly not one as young. In a way he didn't understand, he liked it.

“The flight is on the aether and aligned to the plane,” Breeze said a moment later.

Vorly looked down at his sheet and saw the now-familiar pattern of fingertips tracing paths. All the lines were blue.

“I have a blue sheet,” Vorly said.

“Aye, all blue,” Breeze replied.

“Good job, Breeze,” Vorly said, his voice gruff lest she make too much of the compliment.

“By your command, Sky Horse Leader,” she replied.

Vorly grunted. “High Druid's sake, Breeze, at least use my aether name,” he said, his hope that she would snap out of her funk on her own failing.

“Aye . . . Falcon,” she said.

Vorly made a mental note to have a long talk with her when this mission was over. They'd either come to an understanding or he'd get a new RAT. Maybe the two of them were just too damn stubborn to work well together. Realizing he wasn't going to fix it now, he glanced right, assessing the position of each rag in the flight. Sky Horse Two, Three, and Four off his right wing were holding a clean line with a seventy-five-yard spacing between rags. They were flying at half-wing speed, the rags alternating a wing stroke with a glide. For something so big, rags could be surprisingly gentle, especially in the air. He turned to look to the left and his improving mood did an about-face.

Where the right echelon was smooth and precise, the left wing of their V formation was a witch's hair in a windstorm. Sky Horse Five, Jate's former ride, was now crewed by a driver and RAT fresh off the boat. The RAT, Hyaminth Trecell, didn't seem any more strange than the others, but the new driver, Ormo Brithol, acted as if this were his first rag. Centaurea was all over the sky, refusing to keep position off of Carduus's left wing. The rag
drifted out three hundred yards before Brithol brought him back. This put Sky Horse Six in a hopeless situation of trying to stay on Centaurea's wing and make use of the draft created.

“Sky Horse Five, this is Sky Horse Leader,” Vorly said, remembering to turn back toward the crystal sheet. They would have to come up with a better system. He had to be able to talk while looking where he needed, not down. “What seems to be the problem?”

“Sorry, Sky Horse Leader, Centaurea just won't calm down. He keeps trying to wheel around. It's like he's looking for something.”

Vorly cursed under his breath. Big, terribly destructive, and about as bright as a chunk of coal in a bottle of ink, Centaurea was pining for Jate. Vorly had seen it happen before. Some rags became so attached to a driver that they couldn't be flown again if that driver was killed. If they couldn't get Centaurea under control, the beast would be cut up for parts. A rag heart alone was worth its weight in silver and the fluid in their eyes even more.

“Understood,” Vorly said, doing his best to sound positive. He doubted he'd have better luck on Centaurea than Brithol. “Sky Horse Six, switch positions with Sky Horse Five. Brithol, let Centaurea have his head out to five hundred yards, then drift him back toward the flight. See if he calms down with more space.”

“Aye that, Sky Horse Leader,” Brithol said.

Vorly turned and watched as Centaurea banked and flew away from the flight. Sky Horse Six slid into position and settled smoothly at seventy-five yards off of Carduus's wing.

“What if—” Breeze started to say, then stopped.

“What?” Vorly asked, actually turning around to look at her. Her head was down, staring at the sheet.

“I was just thinking that we could try cocooning Centaurea in a low plane field.”

Vorly didn't even try to pretend he knew what that meant. “What?”

Breeze lifted her head and started when she saw Vorly looking at her. “Think of it like a big, warm blanket wrapped around Centaurea. Except it will be the residual energy from the pathway being generated by Hyaminth. Right now, we're simply letting it flow away with the second cable we added, but if she directed even a tenth of it, it might work.”

“Is this anything like what happened to Jate and his RAT—damn, I mean Bwiter?” Vorly asked.

Breeze shook her head. “No, completely different. This would be totally safe.”

Vorly looked at her. She blinked, but she didn't look away.
Good
. He took a deep breath. “Fine, try it with Carduus first.”

Breeze's eyes opened wide. “Sir?”

“You said it was safe, so give it a try. We're a team, Breeze, the three of us. Up here, we're all we've got. If we can't trust each other, it isn't going to work.” He made a point of looking down at her hands and her bruised and swollen knuckles. “The next fight we get into won't be driver against RAT.” Vorly turned around and faced forward. “Whenever you're ready.” He debated breaking formation and taking Carduus down to treetop level but decided against it. He wanted Breeze to know she had his full confidence.

“Sir, it's just that—”

“Either do it or don't, but don't waste my time with hemming and hawing,” Vorly said, letting her hear his annoyance. “Maybe a male RAT would be better to do this.”

“The inside of your skull is going to vibrate. Don't panic,” she said, her voice steely.

“Inside my . . . oh,” Vorly said, his focus blurring as something completely foreign gripped him from inside. His entire body was vibrating with a slow, heavy pulse. Carduus snapped his jaws and shook his head. It felt wrong. Vorly gritted his teeth, ready to yell at Breeze to stop, but then it smoothed out. It was as if three different rhythms had blended into one.

It felt . . . good. Carduus must have liked it too because he started to purr, sending an entirely new vibration up through the seat of Vorly's pants.

“How do you feel, sir?” Breeze asked. She sounded out of breath but defiant.

“I'm fine . . . in fact, I feel better than I did before you started. What did you do?”

Pride gave Breeze's voice strength. “I used the residual energy to combine our three heartbeats into one.”

Vorly instinctively raised a hand and placed it against his chest. “You mean like one of those musical recitals where they play different instruments but get them to all sound good together?”

“Why yes, that's a perfect way to describe it,” she said. “I've created a three-part harmony that ties us together—you, me, and Carduus. We are a team, after all.”

Vorly smiled but didn't turn around to let Breeze see it. “Can Haymint over there do it?”


Hyaminth
is very capable. She'll have no trouble with this.”

Vorly nodded. “Right.” He tapped his crystal. “Sky Horse Five, this is Sky Horse Leader. Hyaminth is going to set up a harmony for you. Should sort Centaurea out. Stay calm. It smooths out after the first jolt. Breeze will explain.”

Breeze ran through the procedure twice with Hyaminth, who was immediately receptive to it. Brithol, however, was not as eager.

“You sure about this, Sky Horse Leader? Sounds a little risky. I, um, heard about what happened to the last driver of this rag.”

Vorly didn't blame the lad, but he didn't have time to coddle him. He needed all six rags and crew flying sharp and tight. “I had my RAT do it first. I'm in harmony right now and feel great,” Vorly said.

There was a long pause before Brithol came back on. “Aye that, Sky Horse Leader. Will give it a try.”

Vorly turned his head slightly so that he could keep Sky Horse Five in view out of the corner of his eye.

At first, Centaurea continued his erratic behavior, flying toward the flight and then wheeling away again. He was on his way back toward them when he shook his head and snapped his jaws at the empty air. Vorly gripped the reins tight, wondering if he'd just made an incredibly foolish decision.

Centaurea continued to snap his jaws long after Carduus had stopped. Vorly was about to shout into the crystal for Hyaminth to stop when Centaurea closed his jaws and didn't open them again. Vorly waited. Centaurea continued to fly straight and true toward the flight. He reached the point where he normally wheeled away and kept on coming. He settled in at
around one hundred yards off of Sky Horse Six's left wing. It wasn't perfect, but it was good enough.

“Breeze?”

“Yes, sir?”

“This might be the harmony talking, but that was a damn fine bit of thaumics. That's a compliment, and you will accept it.”

Carduus's wings beat several times before Breeze answered.

“By your command, Sky Horse Leader,” she said.

Vorly huffed, wondering how in blazes you got through to a woman, when he felt her hand on his back.

“Thank you, sir,” she said. Her hand lifted and was gone.

Vorly focused his eyes on the horizon, a three-part harmony pulsing steadily in his chest. As mornings went in the Lux, this was turning out to be a pretty damn good one.

LC LISTOWK LED
the shield out of Moskoan and toward the west side of the dosha swamps. He kept the pace slow. It wasn't that he was afraid of the coming battle, but as long as they were walking there was much less chance for the boys to get into trouble. Walking kept them occupied. They could yap, smoke, grab a drink and something to eat, and burn off a little nervous energy. The slower he walked, the better. He was especially concerned about Carny. He seemed to have gotten over the worst of the tunnel, but it had marked him.

Listowk hefted his crossbow from the crook of his right arm to the crook of his left. It wasn't required, but he'd learned to shoot equally well from either hand. He drifted his fingers over the bow, checking the tautness of the string, the position of the bolt and the safety lever. His eyes never left the tree line. He judged the jungle to be four hundred yards away. It was tempting to get a measurement to see how accurate his estimate was, but they didn't have time.

The dirt was dry under his boots, far different from the damp muck they'd encountered on the mountain. He looked down and watched dust swirl up with each step. Damn hard to farm when it was this dry. He raised
his eyes and resumed scanning the edge of the jungle. It'd be wetter in there. It always was.

He reached the two-foot-high dirt berm that marked the close edge of the dosha swamp and stepped on top of it. Taking a breath, he turned his back to the jungle and motioned for the soldiers behind to turn and walk beside the berm. He smiled as they passed. They were a sun-kissed, filthy, shuffling mob, and he loved them dearly.

“LC,” Ropit said as he walked past. Listowk nodded. Good soldier—never needed to be told anything twice. A few more walked past, nodding or ignoring him altogether.

Carny walked past without a word.

Listowk watched him go by, taking the opportunity to check him over. He wasn't looking for infractions; hell, even Sinte had calmed down about spit and polish. The soldier was hitting the Wild Flower heavy. But he wasn't going to call him on it, not today.

The new soldier, Knockers, followed after Carny.

“Seen much of the squirrel this morning, Knockers?” Listowk asked, using an ancient phrase about getting up early in the forest.

“Just his nuts, LC, and I think they're cracked,” Knockers replied. The soldiers in earshot chuckled.

Listowk smiled. It was important to integrate a new soldier as quickly as possible.

“Need rain,” Big Hog said, walking up to the edge of the berm and pausing to stand by Listowk. He used his crossbow to point at the dosha swamps. “Gonna lose the crop if it doesn't come soon.”

Listowk looked out over the fields, but his eyes kept locking back on the jungle.

“We're lucky it's dry, or we'd be up to our asses in water out here,” Listowk said, turning back to watch the rest of the shield walk past. “I don't even know if rags float.”

“Need rain,” Big Hog repeated, shouldering his crossbow and walking on.

Listowk waited until Sinte arrived but turned and started moving across the berm before the SL could say something. He reached the far
end of the shield and crouched down on top of the berm, pivoting on the soles of his boots so that he could keep one eye on the far tree line and the other on the shield.

SL Sinte stepped up onto the berm where Listowk had. He barely glanced at the jungle before he started walking down the berm. “When the rags arrive you will not run! You will not scream! You will not point and shout and act like bloody little children.” Listowk groaned. Sinte couldn't relax even if he were ordered to do so. “You are soldiers in the Army of the Kingdom. You aren't a peasant rabble, despite the deplorable condition of your uniforms. You will not fuck this up. Is that clear?”

“Clear as beer, SL!” roared the shield in response. Listowk nodded. He couldn't recall when the refrain had become popular, but there wasn't a truer thing said. The beer they were issued in the Lux tasted like water that had pissed itself.

“You will stay in formation and only move when given an order to do so. And no smoking!”

The groans rolled up and down the line.

Carny made a noise.

Sinte strode over to where Carny was sitting. “I don't want to see a pipe or a smoke or anything. They're attracted to fire. You light up a pipe and they're just as likely to think you're giving them a signal to mate.”

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