Sky Raiders (29 page)

“I try to teach little lessons wherever I go,” Liam said. He waved a hand at his couch, and the support vanished. Rather than fall, the couch started floating gently.

“Why are you here?” Cole asked, shifting into a kneeling position.

“That’s deep,” Liam said. “I’m not sure I have enough focus to answer.”

“You heard what Declan said about you,” Cole realized.

Liam gave a little shrug. “At least when he talks behind my back, he sticks to the same things he says to my face. It’s actually kind of admirable.”

“Do you lack focus?”

“Absolutely. He was telling the truth. I’m not very serious. But I’m not sure it’s as big a weakness as he thinks. Get too serious and you freeze up. I may lack focus, but some important things catch my interest.”

“Like what?”

“Flashing lights. Dominoes. Pinball.”

“Pinball has flashing lights,” Cole said.

Liam grinned. “I’m sensing a pattern.”

“You guys have pinball?”

“In Zeropolis,” Liam said. “I went there as a slave. We know about a lot of stuff from your world. Most of us have our roots there. I notice many things from your world on the castles when they head down the void. I’m not sure how the items get there.”

Cole stood up. “Would you fix my chair?”

Liam snapped his fingers and the chair lurched upright. “You must hate it here.”

“I don’t know,” Cole said, sitting gingerly, making sure the chair would hold him again.

“They enslaved you!” Liam said. “Not a great way to encourage tourism.”

“How did you end up a slave?” Cole asked.

The couch had drifted up to the ceiling. Liam pushed off gently, and the couch glided lower. “I saved a bunch of orphans from a fire, and my freemark got charred. I was enslaved the next day while I was recovering.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Yes. Ready for the truth? My parents sold me. Not my real parents. I never knew them. They supposedly died in a riot. The parents who raised me decided to sell me.”

“Really?”

“Yes. We lived on the border between Junction and Sambria. My parents didn’t like my shaping. They tried to get me to hide it. I didn’t. It was the only thing I was good at! One day, I got sold, marked, and chucked into a slave wagon. Thanks, Mom! Thanks, Dad! Don’t spend it all in one place!”

Liam talked like he was joking, but Cole heard real bitterness behind the words. “So you came here.”

“Not right away,” Liam said. “I had to escape first. And it took some effort to find Declan. Long, boring story.”

“Was it hard to find your way in?”

“Much harder to get in than to get out. I found where Declan had entered and followed the faint path he left behind.”

“Wait,” Cole said. “Didn’t he come here years before you?”

“The woods he came through make you turn around without knowing it. The Boomerang Forest. You walk in, stay on a straight course, and walk out the way you entered without ever turning.”

“Really?”

“Yes. But Declan performed counter-shapings wherever the forest tried to turn him around. He adjusted certain places in the woods so he could move sideways or diagonally instead of backward. His shapings were left in place, and I followed them here.”

“How do you like it?”

“Beats slavery. Beats parents who would sell me to slavers. I’ve learned a lot. It’s kind of like a voluntary prison where I get to shape amazing things all the time. I won’t stay here forever. Sounds like you four won’t stay here past tomorrow.”

Cole nodded. “Looks that way.”

“You’ll have fun,” Liam said. “New experiences. Fighting a monster made of shaping power? Nobody has done that! Nobody can even guess what it would be like. The idea is revolutionary.”

“Do you think we can survive it?”

Liam scrunched his face in thought. “I should probably make a tomb. You know, the kind of memorial they use when you can’t retrieve the bodies? We can have the funeral before you leave. I could whip up some black clothes.”

“Is it that bad?”

“Who knows? It’s unprecedented. Sounded bad to me.”

“Me too.”

Liam fluttered his fingers and the couch drifted back to its former position. The single, slim support reappeared. “I should let you get some rest.”

Liam stood and went to the door.

“Liam,” Cole said, rising. “Why’d you come by?”

“I was curious about Happy. What a small world!”

“Is that all?”

“I couldn’t sleep and felt a little bored.”

“Okay,” Cole said. “Good night.”

“We’ll keep watch tonight. You’ll be safe. Try to settle down. You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I have. Mine.”

Liam laughed. “Nice. I’m sorry you can’t stick around.” He walked out and snapped his fingers. The door banged shut.

Shedding his clothes, Cole crawled into bed. Liam was right about one thing at least: He needed sleep. Who knew when he would get a good rest again? Hugging a pillow against the side of his head, Cole tried not to obsess about what the next day would bring.

23

B
reakfast was spectacular the next morning. Eggs had been prepared in numerous ways—scrambled, hard-boiled, soft-boiled, poached, fried, deviled, baked, and pickled. Thick strips of bacon glistened in their crinkly glory. Various kinds of toast and pastries vied for attention, along with butter, honey, and jam. A vat of oatmeal had been sweetened with berries and sugar. Pies bulged with spicy potatoes, veggies, eggs, and sausage. Milk was available, and fruit juice, and numerous hot drinks.

Cole felt a little like a death-row inmate at his last meal. They were fattening him up so he could go get eaten by Mira’s rampaging powers.

Jace acted unconcerned. He tossed berries into the air and caught them in his mouth. Mira and Twitch were more subdued. Declan and Jamar ate with them—Declan nibbling at a dry piece of toast, Jamar tearing into the spiciest pie and the pickled eggs. Jamar’s waxy white assistants served the food and drink.

Cole had awakened to find nice clothes—exactly his size—laid out for him. Jace and Twitch had new clothes as well. Mira wore a much more flattering outfit, including a thin silver necklace and sparkly hairpins.

Cole still wasn’t sure precisely what he planned to do. He wanted to corner Declan for advice, but he felt awkward bringing it up during the meal. Unless Declan had compelling alternatives, Cole figured he would leave with the others, then possibly split off when they reached a road to Junction.

After breakfast, Declan stood, supporting himself against the table. “I take it you have decided how to proceed,” he said to Mira.

“We’re going to leave,” Mira said. “I’m going after my powers. The others can join me or go their own way as they choose.”

Cole and Twitch made quick eye contact. Cole wondered how much temptation Twitch felt to take his chances on his own.

“Very well,” Declan said. “I expected as much. It’s really the only option, given the circumstances. I won’t send you away without aid. Most of the semblances and renderings we create here would only function in close proximity to the Brink. The atmosphere near the cloudwalls is much more generous for shaping than elsewhere in Sambria. Nevertheless, I have instructed each of my apprentices to provide an item to help you on your way. These gifts will function anywhere in Sambria. They all belong to Mira. Those who accompany her will benefit from them as well. Asia! Liam!”

Asia entered the room, followed by Lyrus, who carried a wicker basket. She gestured toward him, and the soldier upended the basket on the floor, revealing a tangle of chains and iron balls.

“I call this the Shaper’s Flail,” Asia said. “It responds to a few commands. Flail, ready!”

At those words, the chains became untangled. Five of the iron balls reared up into the air like serpents poised to strike, some higher than others, each attached to one of the thick-linked chains. One ball stayed on the ground. Each ball had to weigh twenty or thirty pounds, and each chain connected to a central iron ring.

“It also responds to commands like ‘return,’ which will send it back to the basket; ‘follow,’ which will make it trail along behind you; ‘defend,’ which will make it protect something or someone; and ‘attack,’ which you should only say if you really mean it. The word ‘flail’ must precede the command for it to work. Flail, return!”

In a clattering blur, the mass of chains and spheres sprang smoothly into the basket. Cole and Twitch shared a glance. The new weapon would definitely bring some added protection.

“The flail is linked to Mira and will only respond to her,” Asia said. “She will guide it to targets with her thoughts and focus, but no effort will be required to determine how it attacks. The flail will also respond to the commands ‘capture’ and ‘threaten.’ As you might guess, don’t try to capture anything delicate. It isn’t a gentle rendering.”

“Thank you, Asia,” Declan said. “Jamar?”

The curly haired shaper stood and held up a red velvet
sack with a golden drawstring. “I harvested one of our most abundant natural resources for your use. Massive amounts of water vapor are drawn into the terminal void every day, which means the cloudwall is somehow being constantly replenished. This sack contains twenty thousand cubic yards of fog. It can empty in twenty seconds. Once empty, if you turn the bag inside out, it can swallow up to twenty thousand cubic yards of fog at the same rate. Use it over and over if desired.”

“Are there commands?” Mira asked.

“ ‘Empty slow,’ ‘empty medium,’ ‘empty fast,’ ” Jamar rattled off. “They work when the mouth of the sack is open. When inside out, ‘fill slow,’ ‘fill medium,’ and ‘fill fast.’ No need to make it complicated.”

“Or useful,” Liam said, entering the room on a hovering disk. “Unless they want to ruin an afternoon at a small beach.”

“Perhaps they’ll need to confuse their enemies,” Jamar said.

“Can they see through the fog better than others?” Liam asked.

“They can release the fog behind themselves during an escape,” Jamar said less patiently. “They could fill enemy barracks. Or obscure a courtyard.”

“I guess it could come in handy,” Liam allowed. “Asia’s gift was as subtle as ever.”

“I’m not sure subtlety will be their greatest need,” Asia said.

“Well, I’ll provide some, anyway.” Liam whistled, and a bird flew to his shoulder—a white-and-gray cockatiel with a yellow crest and orange cheeks. “This is Mango.”

“You’re my new masters,” the cockatiel said in an eager
voice, only vaguely birdlike. “I’ll spy for you and do whatever else I can to keep you safe and informed.”

“She’ll answer to any of you,” Liam said. “That way if Mira gets knocked unconscious or is otherwise indisposed, you can still give Mango orders. But if you split up, Mango will stay with Mira.”

The cockatiel flitted from Liam’s shoulder to Mira’s. She stood about six inches tall, not counting the long tail feathers. The bird cocked her head and whistled. Mira petted it gently.

“Her wings feel strange,” Mira said.

“Strange?” Mango challenged, ruffling her feathers.

Now that Mira mentioned it, as Cole leaned closer, the bird didn’t look quite right. The texture of the feathers seemed too smooth and shiny.

“Mango is made from a light substance I designed,” Liam said. “I call it ristofly. It makes her much more durable than if she were composed of flesh and actual feathers. She can fly faster and see better than most real birds. She doesn’t need food or water, doesn’t sleep, doesn’t relieve herself, and can dwell underwater as easily as in the air.”

“See how handy I am?” Mango said. “And you sum it up with ‘strange.’ ”

“Sorry,” Mira said. “I didn’t mean any offense.”

Asia exhaled derisively. “A semblance that requires apologies? Brilliant work, Liam. Very subtle.”

“I’m plenty subtle,” Mango snapped. The bird hopped close to Mira’s ear. “I won’t let anyone sneak up on you. I’ll steer you away from danger. And you can command me to do just about anything. If I don’t understand, I’ll let you know.”

“You made her in one night?” Mira asked Liam.

“Sort of,” Liam replied. “I repurposed one of my best spy birds. But I completely reshaped and refined her, added some spunk.”