Jeanne G'Fellers - Sisters Flight (7 page)

"No,
they're two different men with the same name who've caused similar agony."
Garrziko led Rankil to the bedroom where she leaned her back onto the pillows.
Rankil said nothing, but her hyperventilating had slowed. Garrziko turned to
me. "You have my apologies. Easton had never mentioned the name before. I
suppose the memory was too deeply suppressed until now. If I had known
..."

"How
could you have?" I sat beside Rankil, smoothing the hair from her face.
"Can she stay here tonight?"

"Certainly."
Garrziko stood in the bedroom doorway, sagging against the facing. "At
this point the Pit would only trigger another episode."

I
nodded and pulled off Rankil's boots, letting them thump on the floor.
"Tomorrow morning then?"

"I'll
come here."

"Please."
I loosened Rankil's duty tunic and undid her belt, carefully sliding it from
behind her. She was unarmed, meaning she had left her weapons at the Pit's
gates. I was thankful for that favor. "She'll be better by morning, I'm
sure."

"And
probably ready to talk things through," added Dee in a helpful tone.
"I cleaned up the mess for you. Nothing seems broken. A bit bent perhaps,
but not broken."

"Thank
you." I followed Garrziko into the main room where we both collapsed into
chairs. "I'm still not sure I understand all she said." I pulled the
binder from my hair, letting the strands join what had fallen loose. "What
happened? Was Archell at the Pit?"

"No,
but Rankil was in attendance when the medical healers did emergency surgery on
Easton tonight," said Garrziko in an anodyne tone as she pulled a new
pilta smoke from her cloak. "She was hemorrhaging, so they had to act
quickly to keep it from becoming irreversible."

"And
Easton can't be phased or medicated," Dee added from where she stood near
the door. "Would you like me to stay the night just in case?"

"No,"
I said. "We'll be okay. This isn't the first time this has happened, just
the first in a long while."

"I'm
certain you'll handle it with your usual grace, my dear." Garrziko chucked
my chin as she rose. "And tell Rankil that Easton will be all right. Until
morning?"

"Goodnight."
I locked the door behind them and turned toward the bedroom. Rankil was awake
and sitting on the edge of the bed, her head between her knees. I drew behind
her and wrapped around her to rest my head on her back. "It wasn't so
bad."

"Yes,
it was," she mumbled between sobs. The dam of tears had burst and coated
her tunic and my hands. "I'm sorry."

"Don't
be." I pulled back, encouraging Rankil into my arms. "It simply
happened."

"I
felt it coming on, I did, but no matter how I tried I couldn't stop it. The
rush was too fast." Rankil must have found solace in my embrace because
she lay quietly, letting the tears fall, her breathing raspy until the last
drop had soaked into my shoulder. "Garrziko coming tomorrow?"

"Bright
and early," I said with a kiss to her head.

"Ziko's
getting up early for me?" Rankil sniffled and looked up. "Shit, it
must have been bad."

"No,
just surprised us."

"Me
included."

"You
especially, I think." I kicked off my slippers and removed my shift, providing
a fleshy, warm place for Rankil to self-commiserate.

Rankil
mumbled yes into my breast and inhaled, seeming to find deeper relaxation. Then
she reached for the extra blanket at the end of the bed and pulled it over us.
The room had never been lit for the evening, so the only light diffused from
the main room through the door curtain. It didn't take long for either of us to
find sleep, but prolonged slumber proved elusive. I woke numerous times and, in
each waking start, tearfully addressed the fear that I had suppressed during
the episode. Rankil didn't sleep well either and at one point rose from the bed
to pace the front room while she thought I was sleeping. But deep in the night,
we both managed to find some succor in our togetherness and fell into dreamless
sleep.

Chapter
Five

Preparation

After
a long talk with Commander Stiles, my commanding officer, Healer Garrziko
reluctantly released me for duty so I could be considered for the expedition.
Even then, Harlis initially said no, but persuaded by Evangeline's logic that I
was familiar with the territory and fluent in the local Autlach, Harlis finally
agreed, though only after Stiles told her Garrziko had given her a small metal
flask holding two cloths drenched in that drug I hate.

Evangeline's
entire team, save for the three most injured, were also assigned to the
expedition, and a half-dozen Powder Barrier elite led by Commander Stiles, were
as well, as were two battle-experienced healers. We were equipped with a
sizable arsenal—the usual blades and bows, along with a Tekkroon-crafted
revolver on everyone's hip. The Powder Barrier sharpshooter also carried the
laser-sight rifle found in Transport Two's storage. All of us wore male Autlach
clothing salvaged from the battlefield, and all of us stunk because of it.

On
the evening of departure, we gathered on the Tekkroon Mecca, nineteen united in
our resolve to free the Yauld. Because the technicians' skills were needed to
help keep the clan's new weaponry working, and the printing had been halted so
the scribes could help defend the borders, Myrla had received Harlis's go-ahead
to stand watch on Transport Two, freeing the normally posted troopers for other
duties. After a lingering morning of oneness, she had parted with me and was
beside Genevic at the helm, learning the scopes as Gen watched the
shrub-concealed exit hole for trouble.

"Rankil
dankil?" I turned to find Archell approaching from a connecting tunnel. He
was tall for an Aut, and broad in the shoulder—both things that should have made
him proud, but he generally held his head down as if embarrassed by his own
size. Everyone who knew him, though, knew it meant he was thinking or brooding.
This time it proved to be the first. He was thinking about me. My helmet,
camouflaged winter white, was tucked under his arm. "You forgot
something."

"Myrla
put you up to this, didn't she?" I reluctantly accepted the helmet.

"She
said I should take it to you."

I
gritted my teeth. As much as I loathed leaving Myrla, being posted on such an
expedition made me feel important. For the first time my past was a good thing.
I had to make use of it. It somehow made it all almost bearable.

"Thanks,
Archie." I tried to seem relieved he'd brought the armor. "I had so
much equipment to check I was bound to miss something."

"You
lie." Archell raised one corner of his mouth in a half-smile. "Myrla
knows you hid it. She said she knew you'd try."

"She
would." I pulled the helmet over my ears.

"Your
head has been cracked more than once, Rankil dankle," he continued in the
singsong voice that hinted at his rare musical talent. "Don't make Myrla
worry over you." He laid a hand on my arm. "She told me to tell you
to be who you are now"—he leaned close—"not the past we can't
disavow."

"I'm
dealing with it."

"That's
good to hear." Harlis Davies, the Tekkroon clan leader, suddenly appeared
by my side. She motioned for me to extend my hand and placed a bound lock of
hair into my palm. I recognized it right away. It was the section Harlis had
cut off during my Recognition, the ceremony where a broadback takes her place
in adult society. The hair was a half shade paler than my current color and
brittle from a poor diet.

"This
is all that remains of the misplaced sister child who once appeared, dirty and
hungry, on the Tekkroon doorstep. Trooper Rankil is a valued member of the
community. See she returns and this vengeful child does not." Harlis
closed my palm around the lock and guided it to my cloak pocket. "Keep it
as a reminder." Then, with a nod to Archell, Harlis turned and walked away
as she called for the farewell wine to be poured.

"She
said what worries us all." Archell's face lifted to a full smile. "Be
safe, Rankil roo," he said. "Archell will keep Myrla safe for
you."

"Thanks,
but by all means, don't let her know I asked you to. She claims I don't trust
her weapons skills when I say such things."

"She
said I could come over whenever I wanted." He patted my cheek then flicked
a finger against the helmet, which rang in my ears. "Wear your
helmet."

"I
will."

"All
the time."

"Archell!"

"That
was from Myrla, not me." Archell nudged me then walked away, bowing his
head and picking up his pace when Laszlo smiled in his direction.

"Who
was that?" She stepped up when he'd gone.

"My
cousin Archell." I glanced at Laszlo then down the dim tunnel Archell had
taken. "He's a musician."

"I
thought as much," she said. "He has a musician's way about him."
She shifted the short sword resting against her hip, pushing it back so it
ceased catching on her arm splint.

"You
plan to fight with that?" I pointed to the splint.

"I
rarely need a sword, but Master Evangeline insists I carry one." Laszlo
rattled the bag hanging from her belt. "I have other means of
accomplishing my goals."

"As
in?"

"Sleeping
dust for starters." Laszlo's little laugh defied her innocent face.
"One of my raisers was an assassin. She taught me a trick or two.
Evangeline is teaching me everything else I need to know."

"You
studied with her long?" I took two cups from the tray a steward was
strolling about with, holding one out to Laszlo, who refused.

"It
gives me the shakes. Just a moment." Evangeline called to her, holding out
a cup. Laszlo took the cup then returned, slowly sipping. "I don't have
much longer under Evangeline. In fact, she's already found her next apprentice
among the Tekkroon."

"That
so?" I said. The odor rising from Laszlo's cup reminded me of the spice
cakes my Grandmother Terry had once made. "What're you drinking?"

"Seasoned
water." Laszlo couldn't explain as Harlis chose that moment to speak.

"I
won't waste time with dribble concerning the importance of this campaign."
Harlis tossed back the dregs in her cup while Evangeline translated for her
people. "You all know the importance, the risks. The crystal mine must be
cleansed of sister sweat and blood. We won't just delay the mine's production,
stall its operations until new slaves are herded in. We must shake it deep,
fill its tunnels with scrub stone and dirt. We must destroy it!" Harlis
paused for Evangeline's interpretation and the responding applause. "Keep
your hoods high and your weapons drawn, my sisters. Longpass may have strength
in numbers, but we have strength of heart and ..." Harlis paused.
"Repeating firearms!"

"We'll
chase him to Raskhallak's hell if that's what it takes," exclaimed one of
the Barrier troopers as she raised her sword above her head.

"And
back again," added the sharpshooter, her rifle held skyward. Cheers
echoed, followed by a low "Tekk—roon, Tekk— roon" chant from the
Powder Barrier troopers.

The
Yauld threw their heads back in their own cadence, which Laszlo translated to
me as meaning, "All go in, all come out."

When
the rally ended, we all checked our supplies and weapons for last-minute needs.
I checked my pack against the equipment list Commander Stiles rattled off and
found everything in order. "Additional gear will be issued before
departure," Stiles informed us then pointed to me. "Beginning with
you."

After
a few parting words with Laszlo, I crossed the cavern to where Stiles stood.
"The technicians finally gave up something we can use in the field besides
guns," she said with a cautious snort. "They say you'll know how to
operate it. Tell me your thoughts." Stiles held out a palm-sized com unit.
I took the unit and inspected it front and back.

"It's
just like the intercom on Transport Two," I said as I handed the com unit
back. Stiles shook her head and produced another from her pocket.

"That
one's yours." She called for Harlis and Evangeline, who were already
approaching, holding identical coms. "She knows how they work."

"Show
us," said Harlis.

"It's
simple enough." I took each com in turn, adjusting them to the frequency
of Transport Two. "Each unit is commonly linked. Turn it on here." I
flicked the switch mounted just below my corn's tiny combo speaker and microphone.
"To speak, simply depress the right side button." I let the others
hear the open channel buzz then depressed the talk button. "Rankil to
Transport Two. Genevic? Myrla?"

"We
hear you." Genevic's voice was static free. "Clearly at that.
Problems already?"

"Just
a demonstration. I'll have each unit check in."

"Ready
when you are." The happy voice belonged to Myrla. Taking heart in the
sound, I motioned for Stiles to speak. After a reminder to depress her talk
button, she complied, holding the unit against her mouth.