He was right. The snow had let up somewhat, but the howling wind had picked up its intensity. There was a crosswind coming in from the sea too. Cas struggled to control her flier.
“One more balloon should do it,” Zirkander said. “Focus fire on the aft one. And give your neighbors some distance. We’re being bobbed around like buoys out here.”
“Is anyone else wondering why they haven’t started bombing the city?” someone from Tiger Squadron asked.
“I am,” Zirkander said. “It’s like they’re waiting for something.”
“Maybe they’re enraptured with us,” Pimples said.
“I believe the word you’re thinking of is enthralled,” Apex said, “though neither seems likely.”
“Thanks,” Pimples said. “I’d be lost without your guidance.”
“What’s the word for it when an officer kisses another officer in front of a whole bunch of other officers?” someone asked.
Cas winced, imagining Pimples’ embarrassment. This wasn’t the time for squad-wide mockery. W-83 was busy blowing flaming holes in the balloon he had selected for targeting.
“How long before everyone forgets about that?” Pimples asked.
“I don’t know, but it’s sure going to take more than an hour.”
“Enough, Wolves,” Zirkander said as his craft flew out of the flames leaping from the balloon. The platform sagged, the aft end dipping down at an impossible angle, and pirates tumbling over the side. Others clawed their way into buildings and hung from lampposts. “We’ll mock Pimples thoroughly once we’re on the ground with beers in our hands.”
“Gee, thank you so much, sir,” Pimples said.
Several quieter moments passed, with nothing except the thrum of the propellers and the bangs of the guns speaking to the night. Cas focused on the shooting and tried to relax, though the wind had her whole body tense.
“Look out,” several people cried at once.
Cas glanced in all directions, thinking the warning might be for her. But two Tiger Squadron fliers had clipped wings or crashed in some other way. Both craft were spiraling toward the harbor. There was no chance for the pilots to pull up—they’d lost all control. The fliers plunged into the water, the wings ripped off by the impact and hurled free. Cas stared in horror, reminded that nature was every bit as dangerous as enemy bullets.
• • • • •
Zirkander’s house. That was the only place Tolemek could think of to check for the canister. Those pirates had been searching it, but they might have done more than that. Perhaps the attempt to blow it up had been a ruse. Or maybe they had placed the device nearby and had wanted to cover their tracks.
As he pondered this, Tolemek rowed toward the other vessel. A great screech of metal sounded overhead, and the sky lit up. Until then, he had been more concerned about his own problems than the air battle in the sky, but seeing two fliers plummeting from the clouds had a way of riveting a man’s attention. Several of the pirate airships had already crashed, but nearly a mile away, at the north end of the harbor. These fliers would strike down much closer to him. Even before they smashed into the water, he doubted there were survivors—and then the wings were torn off by the impact, and the cockpits disappeared beneath the waves. One of the torn pieces of wing flew in his direction, and he lifted a hand—as if that would do any good—but it bounced down with such force that it skipped off the water again and flew over his head before landing.
Tolemek rubbed his face, staring. For the most part, the pilots were strangers to him, indeed he would have considered them enemies mere hours ago, but he stared in horror at the froth and bubbles, having no way to know if Cas had been in one of those fliers.
“Pirate,” came a soft call from ahead of him.
Sardelle crouched in the shadows, on the sailboat he had been rowing toward. It had drifted closer now—or he had—and he could make out the figure on the deck.
“Tolemek,” he said, not that it mattered at the moment.
“There’s little time. One of the pilots lives. I have to help.”
“The whole city is in danger if Goroth told me the truth, but I don’t know where—”
“Jaxi does.” Sardelle shifted her weight, then tossed something to Tolemek—her sword scabbard. “I’ll catch up.” Her requisitioned yacht was gliding past him, heading unerringly toward the spot where the closest flier had disappeared.
When Tolemek caught the weapon, he stared at it for a moment, before laying it on the floor of the boat and rowing for shore. “You wanted a soulblade...” He looked down at the weapon in its scabbard, no hint of glowing or magic about it. “You’re going to talk to me, right?” Because otherwise he had no idea where to go.
Yes, I’m done arguing with Sardelle now.
About healing people?
About tossing me into some pirate’s hands. Especially a pirate who came here with the intention of stealing me.
That wasn’t my exact intention. Tolemek threw his back into the rowing, not knowing how much time they had or how far they had to travel.
Up to the butte. The device is going up and down the side of the cliff, attached to the bottom of a tram cabin.
The tram on the airbase? Tolemek slapped the oars into the water with more vigor than the task required. You saw that in Goroth’s mind?
Yes.
The airbase. How am I supposed to get past the soldiers guarding the gate? Not to mention riding their manned tram without being spotted. How did Goroth even get it up there to start with?
The captain hadn’t been here any longer than Tolemek. And he had been unconscious half the time. How had he managed so much?
He has men to order around. You seem to be lacking in that area.
Yes, it’s hard to get people to defect en masse with you. The rowboat bumped against the dock, and Tolemek climbed out, not bothering to tie the craft.
Do you not have more of your devices for knocking humans unconscious?
One. How’s your magic? Any chance you’ll let me use it if I get stuck?
I’ll use it if I get stuck. It would inconvenience Sardelle if she had to retrieve me from some military research facility.
In other words, I’m on my own, and you’re only here to guide me to the device.
There’s the swift thinking that leads me to believe you might actually have the brainpower to be an evil inventor.
Just... an inventor.
The device kissing the bottom of the tram cabin gives validity to my adjective.
Tolemek wished he could object more meaningfully, but if the sword was in his head and knew everything he knew...
He reached the head of the dock and turned onto the waterfront street, tugging his hood over his head again. With Goroth’s ship destroyed and the fog machine on the bottom of the harbor, only the snow remained for cover, and the wind was blowing most of that away. The street was busier than ever with soldiers and armored vehicles, many with artillery weapons mounted on them, stationed every block or two. Their focus was toward the sky, but they might notice a suspicious figure running along the street. Tolemek did his best to use the shadows of the buildings to hide his travel. He was about to cut through an alley and hope the next street over was less populated—and paralleled the waterfront so he wouldn’t get lost—when a pair of cavalrymen on horseback trotted out of the alley toward him, their rifles resting across their thighs.
Keep going, Jaxi instructed.
Though he had his reservations, Tolemek did so, hugging a stone wall in hopes that the soldiers would assume he was just a helpful soul out for a walk and ready to beat down pirates with his sword if need be.
The men didn’t so much as look his way.
You’re welcome.
You can keep them from seeing me?
You’re not invisible, but they were distracted, and probably won’t remember your passing unless someone brings it up.
Handy.
Yes. I hope my obvious versatility isn’t making you t
hink of stealing me again.
Tolemek turned onto the street that he hoped paralleled the waterfront. With the butte looming ahead, he shouldn’t be able to lose his way. I was never thinking that. I just wanted to ask—
I know what you want. If there are other soulblades out there still—and I hope that is the case, because you don’t know how depressing it is to be the last of your kind—we haven’t located them yet.
“Oh.” Though Tolemek’s priority was finding the canister before the timer ran out, he couldn’t help but feel disappointed. You said yet. Does that mean—
It’s not our priority.
What is?
At the moment, keeping Sardelle’s new soul snozzle alive.
Tolemek curled a lip, more at the idea of Zirkander as anyone’s ‘soul snozzle’—whatever that was—than because a sorceress might fall in love.
Listen, Jaxi said, no soulblade would want to bond with a crazy girl, anyway.
Tolemek clenched his fist as he ran. She’s not crazy. She just needs help understanding her powers.
Maybe so, but there were always so few soulblades in the world that we could be highly selective with who we chose.
The statement sounded perfectly reasonable, but it was perfectly frustrating as well. Another wasted research trip.
No, not wasted. He gazed up toward the sky, praying that Cas was still up there and still healthy. Even if there was no future for them, he wouldn’t regret anything that had happened this past week. He would only regret having to leave her. Or losing her. He frowned at the harbor, though he couldn’t see where the fliers had crashed.
That much I can give you. She’s fine.
It was probably only in his imagination that the sword sounded apologetic. But maybe Jaxi actually regretted that she had to say no to his hopes for his sister.
We’re not gods; we can’t be the answer to everyone’s problems.
The gates of the airbase came into view, and Tolemek slowed down, pressing himself against a wall and digging into his sack. He still had the one knockout ball and the grenade as well. He squinted past the gate, where snow swept along the dark vertical wall of the butte. The tram cabin looked to be at the top rather than the bottom. Not good. His aerosol was heavier than air, so even if the rocket element wasn’t activated, the gas would descend upon the houses at the base of the cliff, probably drifting farther out into the city as well.
He patted the leather ball. He would have to use it on the guards and try to sneak over to the tram without anyone noticing him. And then he had to hope he could remove the canister and disarm it, also with nobody noticing. Unfortunately, he hadn’t brought tools for fine work.
I don’t suppose you can disarm it from here, Jaxi? That would certainly save some trouble.
I can sense that it’s fastened to the bottom of the cabin. Disarming it... I would rather leave that task for you. It looks complex, inside and outside. Better to have its creator handle that. He doubtlessly has a steady hand and a familiarity with the contraption.
I see, you’re all compliments now. Tolemek imagined himself hanging out of the cabin, trying to disarm the device while fumbling in the dark under the floor.
I don’t want to be the one to slay half the people in the city, Jaxi thought.
I don’t, either.
Good, because I was going to threaten to kill you if you weren’t enthusiastic enough in disarming your contraption.
I’m glad you’re not interested in being stolen, because you would make an abysmal teacher for my sister. Tolemek crept closer to the soldiers guarding the gate, until they spotted him, at which pointed he lifted a hand, as if to greet them, then feigned a slip on the ice. He rolled the leather ball along the street toward them, and dropped to his hands and knees, hoping they would be too fascinated by his fall to notice the ball.
“That’s the same man who knocked out the gate guards at Fort Marsh.” The speaker flung a hand in the direction of the other installation. Ah, the word had gotten around quickly.
“Watch out for that ball.” The second man kicked it before the sides peeled back to emit the smoke. It bounced up the street and didn’t start emitting the gas until it was out of their range.
The first man leveled a rifle at Tolemek. He rolled to the side, expecting a barrage of bullets. He wasn’t disappointed. They skipped off the cobblestones, near his head. He gave up on rolling and jumped to his feet, sprinting toward the closest building. He was still armed and could have shot at the guards, but he didn’t want to leave a trail of blood behind him. How could he attempt to save the city on one hand, but kill everyone in his path on the other? He raced toward a brick two-story building, fearing he would take a bullet between the shoulder blades before he reached cover.
But the guards had fallen silent, neither yelling again nor shooting.
You’re welcome.
Tolemek slowed and turned. The guards lay on the ground, unmoving. Impossibly, his leather ball had rolled back to them, and vapors drifted up to kiss the soldiers’ nostrils.
Thank you. Tolemek ran for the gate, hoping nobody on the walls was paying too much attention. Most of the men, little more than shadows visible through the snow, appeared to be clustered around the artillery weapons mounted at the corners of the installation, focused on the sky. Every now and then, one fired, though the airships were still hugging the north side of the harbor and staying over the water. Tolemek was surprised none of the ships were trying to bomb the city.
He nearly tripped as a realization struck him like a bullet. Standing in the middle of the street in front of a military installation full of enemy soldiers wasn’t the place for realizations, but his feet wouldn’t move until the gears in his mind finished spinning. The pirates knew. They knew that his canister had been placed and that it wouldn’t be safe to come in and attack—and loot—until the toxin had been disseminated into the city. There was no way Goroth could have communicated with the incoming airships and accomplished all this after Tolemek had betrayed him. No, he had put this in motion from the beginning. At least as far back as the day before, when Tolemek and Cas had been hiding in those ducts, and Goroth had been wandering around, plotting and planning with the other captains. With Stone Heart.
Those men who had sneaked onto the freighter and attacked them? What if they had been trying to stop this madness? What if Tolemek had helped kill the only men on the outpost with consciences?
“Goroth planned to use my weapon on the city from the beginning,” Tolemek whispered. The whole story about the fog machine being what would help the pirates take the city, it had been a lie, a ruse that Tolemek had believed. Fool.
Jaxi gave him a mental prod. It doesn’t matter now. Go.
She was right. Tolemek shelved the thoughts for later consideration. He wiped snow out of his eyes and bent before the unconscious men, thinking he would have to pat them down and hope one had keys. The iron gate creaked open of its own accord. He slipped through without hesitating.
Thanks. He trusted Jaxi had handled that as well. You’re handy.
An incalculable treasure.
And modest.
Yes. Now, take a right, then go up the street to the base of the tram. You’ll have to figure out how to get that cabin down here to visit. I could do it, but the soldiers standing up there might notice and find it odd.
Tolemek ran past machine shops and warehouses built in the shadow of the butte. There weren’t offices, barracks, or houses like at the fort—this installation seemed to be dedicated to supporting the fliers. When he reached the shack squatting beside the landing pad at the bottom of the tram, Tolemek peeked inside, thinking an operator might be waiting. It was empty and dark. Whoever’s job it was to move the cabin up and down had taken a break—or was, more likely, on the wall with the other soldiers, ready to defend his homeland.
Inside the shack, there was a simple control mechanism: two levers. He couldn’t read the labels in the dark room and dared not light a lantern, but took a
guess, pulling the one on the left toward him. He leaned through a window—there wasn’t any glass, and he had to stick his head out and crane his neck to see to the top of the cliff. In calmer weather, and with less gunfire in the distance, he might have caught the creaking and clanking of the cabin if it were descending. He didn’t hear or see anything. He tried the other lever.
It’s moving. But there’s a soldier in the shack up there. He noticed.
Is he alarmed?
No. He probably thinks his counterpart called it down. Though if it doesn’t eventually come back up...
Understood.
Tolemek verified that the cabin was descending, battered by the wind and swaying like a puppet on a string. He bared his teeth in horror. If Goroth, or whatever peon he had sent, hadn’t secured that canister well...
For the first time, it sank in that he could die that night. A victim of his own creation. Was that irony? There had been a time when he might not have cared, but he still had to find a solution to help his sister. And then there was Cas. He wasn’t sure what there might be for them yet, but he didn’t want to die before he could find out.
“Focus on this,” he muttered and poked around in his bag. He pulled out his one and only tool from the middle of the canisters and vials. The multi-function device came from an Iskandian tinkering family famous for the tools, and he had thought it terribly clever when he had traded for it, but now, as he unfolded and held up the one-inch-long, cross-tip screwdriver, he had to fight down a wave of panic that threatened to wash over him. “I need finer tools for this, Jaxi,” he whispered, envisioning the countdown timer and mechanism that protected the four glass ampoules inside. Their ability to kill thousands depended on detonation in the air, but if any one of them dropped out and broke at his feet, it would not only kill him but everyone downwind. He eyed the soldiers on the walls.
You might want to stop the tram before the cabin lands, so you can access the device.
Tolemek, a vision of the canister smashing down onto the landing pad, lunged for the control lever. A second later, he realized that the cabin had probably gone up and down a few times since the detonator had been planted. The canister must be tucked under a beam or something that kept it from being pressed into the ground. Still, Jaxi was right. He needed access to it.