Of Bone and Thunder (35 page)

“Breeze,” he wheezed, trying to get his voice above a whisper. “It's all right, you can get up now.”

She lifted her head, her hands reaching to grab on to his. Tears streamed down her cheeks and she was gasping like a fish out of water. She looked at him, staring with an intensity he found difficult to hold, and it had nothing to do with her bloody eyes.

“My fault,” Vorly said, shaking his head. “My own damn fault. I told him to call and should have realized he'd be in a foul mood,” he said. “I'm a fool. That took weeks off his life, and we could have been charked.”

Breeze continued to hold his hand in hers as she looked at him. “Will he do it again? Breathe fire?”

Vorly shook his head. “Not tonight, and never again without us being ready for it. That I can promise you. I'm . . . I'm sorry.”

She squeezed his hand and let it go. She turned and immediately began to trace patterns on her sheet. After several moments she looked up at him again. “I have the plane, but I am not picking up your crystal. I think it's too badly damaged.”

Vorly nodded, turning around to face forward. He fumbled around and pulled on the strap of his water skin until he had it up to his lips. There were many foolish things he was angry at himself for, but at least he hadn't secured the skin to Carduus's scales. You only poured yourself a scalding mouthful of water once before you learned. He pulled out the cork stopper with his teeth and sucked on the spout. The water was hot, but it helped his throat. After a few more gulps, he put the cork stopper back in the spout and let the water skin fall to his side. He gathered up Carduus's reins in his hands. Maybe he was getting too old for this. Maybe it was time—

“Sir, look!”

Vorly looked down at the jungle below. Three flaming arrows climbed into the sky from one location. Vorly traced the arrows back to their source and saw bonfires erupt on the jungle floor, revealing a clearing. Cytisus sat surrounded by broken and felled trees. Men stood on the rag's back, waving and shouting.

Vorly reached down and patted Carduus's scales, ignoring the heat.

“You magnificent fucking bastard,” he said, speaking as much to Carduus as himself.

“I have Gorlan on plane,” Breeze said. “It's weak. His crystal must be damaged. Gorlan, this is Breeze. How are you?”

“. . . reat to hear your voice, Br—” Gorlan said. It sounded as if he were speaking from the other side of a waterfall. “. . . ve two walking wounded . . . litter case with a broken leg.”

“Ask him about Cytisus,” Vorly growled.

“Uh, that's great to hear, Gorlan. Sky Horse Leader would like to know how Cytisus is doing.”

There was silence for several moments. “Sky Horse . . . ader, this is . . . orse Four. Hell of a light show . . . ere. Great to . . . We thought we heard you fly over a . . . couldn't see . . . My RAT's been workin . . . the crystal working again. Pretty . . . I can . . .”

“Cytisus!” Vorly shouted, immediately regretting it as his throat burned with the effort.

“. . . stopped the bleeding. Damn rough landing, but our big problem now—”

Vorly turned to look at Breeze. “What happened?”

She looked up from the crystal. “I lost them. Their signal was weak and they were barely on plane. I'll try to get them back.”

Vorly spun around on his saddle, his neck giving him more trouble than his throat. He put Carduus into a slow circle above the clearing, bringing him down to one hundred yards. The bonfires had grown, allowing him to see the general outline of the clearing.

A long scar of broken and bent branches marked where Cytisus had skimmed across the jungle canopy before dropping into the little clearing, dragging a tangle of trees and foliage in his wake. Vorly started to whistle and then gave it up. If Sky Horse Four had misjudged it by even five yards they would have wrecked.

“Breeze, I think I see the problem,” Vorly said. “Get ready to send them this message.”

“I'm sorry, sir, but I don't think I'm going to be able to bring Gorlan back on plane.”

Vorly started to turn around, the pain in his neck flaring. He saw stars and took a moment to catch his breath. “Old-fashioned way,” he said. “Charcoal and paper.”

“Right, of course,” Breeze said. “Just a moment, sir, I have my writing kit in my bag . . .”

“Hold on to the paper or it will blow away,” he said.

“Yes, sir, thank you. The old ways are new to me,” she said.

Vorly smiled. Not that long ago he would have heard that as an insult.
Now he took it as more an admission that perhaps she had some things to learn, too.

“Here's the message,” he said, speaking deliberately so as not to strain his voice.
“Sit tight. Everything is fine. Help will arrive at dawn.”

“That's it?” Breeze asked.

Vorly thought for a moment.
“P.S. Gorlan, don't kill driver. Or Cytisus. Or anyone else.”

“Do you really want me to include that?” Breeze asked.

“Do you think there's a possibility he might kill them before we get back here?” Vorly asked.

There was a pause before Breeze answered. “I'll include it.”

“When you're done, roll it up and secure it in this,” he said, taking off his helm and handing it back to her. “When I say
now
, you toss it over the side.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Banking!” Vorly shouted, rolling Carduus so that he was perpendicular to the ground. Vorly grunted as Carduus wheeled in the sky, the weight of the turn growing with each passing moment.

“Now!” Vorly shouted. He caught a glimpse of his helm flying through the air and quickly righted Carduus and spurred him to pick up speed as he leveled him out and turned him back south.

“What now?” Breeze asked.

“Now I have another message for you to write.”

“THE HIGH DRUID LOVES
the natural world and all things in it, even rags,” Wiz said, staring up at the night sky. He stood a few feet away from Carny beside one of the huts in the village. Carny didn't mind the Wiz's prattling. Listening to him talk kept Carny's mind from wandering too far down the tunnel in Moskoan.

“He gathered the nuts and seeds from the Eternal Forest and scattered them on the earth. All creatures great and small began in that glorious spring, including they that breathe fire and fly through the air above.”

Carny looked at Wiz and then up at the sky again. He'd sat in a Holy Grove listening to much of the same about the High Druid and the creation of all things. It had always seemed too complicated for him, like a puzzle with missing pieces. There was just so much you had to take on faith.

Wiz sighed. “I felt close to the High Druid today. When we were flying. It was as if I could just reach out and touch him.” He turned and looked at Carny. “For a moment, I knew that if I just undid my straps and jumped I would soar to the Eternal Forest.”

The smile on his face remained, but Carny no longer felt it drawing him in.

“You know that wouldn't happen, right?” Carny said, making a dropping motion with his hand to illustrate his point. “You take off those straps and the only soaring you'd do is straight down into the dirt.”

Wiz placed the flat of his palm on Carny's chest. “You know your problem, Carny? You lack faith, in here.” He kept his hand there for several moments, staring deeply into Carny's eyes. Then he removed his hand and wandered off, occasionally stopping to look up.

Carny stuffed a huge wad of snow and Wild Flower into his mouth and looked up into the night. He saw nothing.

LISTOWK LOOKED ACROSS
the dosha swamp toward the tree line. There were no distinct shapes, only a dark, shadowy wall. He knew it watched him. Every horror he could imagine and more that he couldn't lurked just beyond the blackness. And he desperately wanted to be in there. He was alive in the jungle in ways he never was back in the Vill, and every moment he wasn't in the jungle he became more detached from it. Out here, in
civilization
, he grew weak. But there, in the heart of that darkness, he was born anew. There, where shadow bled into shadow, the darkness inside him found a home. He could let it run free.

A new sound drifted to his ears, but it wasn't from the jungle. He looked up. A rag appeared ten yards above him, its nostrils glowing dull red. Listowk threw himself to the ground as the beast barreled overhead. Grass-thatched roofs blew apart and the walls of one hut collapsed in its wake. Men cursed and shouted. Something fell from the sky and smashed through the roof of the big hut, bounced off of the hard-packed floor, and then tumbled through the open doorway.

Soldiers stumbled out of the huts half-naked, some clutching their crossbows, others simply staring skyward. The smell of burning sulfur filled the air. Listowk jumped to his feet and began running his fingers over his crossbow, searching for any damage.

“What the hell was that?” Carny said, running up to Listowk. He looked stunned. His mouth hung open and his eyes blinked rapidly. He was barefoot and wearing only his trousers. Instead of his crossbow he held a piece of bamboo in his hand.

“I'm not sure,” Listowk said, turning to follow the bouncing path of the object that had fallen from the rag. He spotted it as it rolled to a stop by the water well. “Check that everyone is okay and get dressed. Get them all dressed. No one goes back to sleep.”

“What do—”

“Just do it!” Listowk said, turning away and walking toward the well. He slowed as he got to the well, then stopped when he saw it was a helm
resting on its side with the top facing him. It was one of the special padded ones with the pull-down visor the rag drivers wore. Was there a head inside? He crouched down and gently spun the helm around using one of the bow arms of his crossbow. The helm was empty save for a rolled-up piece of paper tucked into the leather banding inside.

“Where's the candle keeper?” he asked, scooping up the helm as he stood up. He walked back toward the huts.

Longbowman Koel Trunket ran up with the time candle in its sturdy glass and brass cylindrical case. Barely five feet tall, Trunk was the shortest longbowman in the shield and probably the entire Seventh Phalanx. What he lacked in height, however, he made up for in muscles. From his calves to his neck it appeared that every part of his body was swollen. With his dark brown skin and flat, open face he'd been called a mud ape more than once, but never by the same person twice. It was exceedingly difficult to insult someone when your jaw was in pieces.

“It's a quarter before dawn,” Trunket said, showing Listowk the candle and the remainder of the time scale inked down its length. The flame at the top of the candle burned an unnatural green color just as the candle itself gave off a fuzzy green glow. Listowk had never liked the candles. They were too damn strange. He'd been told that there was nothing more to the odd green flame and glow than a couple of chemicals added to the wax and wick to ensure all time candles burned at the same rate, but he remained suspicious. Thaums had to be involved, and that meant messing with forces that were better left alone.

“Hold it steady,” Listowk said, tucking the helm underneath his arm and unrolling the piece of paper. The writing was a ragged scrawl.

“What's it say?” Big Hog said.

Listowk peered closer, working to decipher the words. He read the paper three times before rolling it back up and looking around at the shield.

“They found Sinte and the rest of the boys. Sounds like they got a little lost and landed some miles to the north of us,” Listowk said, pointing in that direction.

Soldiers nodded and a couple patted each other on the back. The fear that eight men in their shield had been killed had been weighing on all of them.

“Does it say when they're coming back?” Knockers asked.

Listowk shook his head. “Their rag is stuck in a jungle clearing and can't take off again until some trees are felled to clear a path. So we're going to catch a ride on the rag that flew over when it comes back this way at dawn.”

“What about Wraith and Panke and Mothrin?” Trunk asked. “We can't just leave them out there. That's three-quarters of our longbows.”

Listowk gave himself a moment to take a swig from his water skin. It was near empty, but for once they had the luxury of a well nearby. He looked around at the men. They were hot, tired, sweaty, and confused. He would have ordered them back to sleep save for those on watch, but that was no longer an option. “We aren't all going. Eight men will board the rag and fly to the SL's position while the rest will stay here.”

The men grew quiet. It was Carny who finally spoke up. “But that'll mean defending the village with less than a full shield.”

“I know,” Listowk said, “but it can't be helped. There's still a slyt force out there. If they get to Sinte and the boys before we do, they're done. We have to get those trees cut and get out as quickly as possible.”

He saw the nervousness and fear. They were so very far from home and in the dark.
My poor, sweet lads.

“Wraith's patrol will be back in the morning, and hopefully with the Orange Herons in tow,” Listowk said. “And once the sun comes up there will be rags galore flying about. The slyts won't try anything, but if they do, they'll regret it.”

“So who's going, and who's staying?” Big Hog asked. “I'm good either way.”

Listowk smiled at the soldier. Big Hog
was
good either way. Solid and dependable. Listowk looked at Carny and realized he wasn't sure he could say the same about him. The boy looked like he hadn't eaten in a week. Whenever he was chewing it was more likely to be snow and Wild Flower than food. Still, the boy had brains. Listowk was determined to make the soldier use them.