Of Bone and Thunder (36 page)

“I have to stay here at the village with the shield,” he said, knowing it was the responsible decision and hating it. “Carny, you up for leading the patrol to Sinte?”

To his credit, Carny nodded and smiled. “Ready now,” Carny said.

“Any volunteers to go with him?”

Hands shot up, but not all of them. Listowk wasn't sure who was braver, those willing to go or those prepared to stay behind. Both choices held unknown risks.

“Big Hog, Knockers, Trunk, Wiz, Porchek, Glest, and . . .”—he saw Ahmist waving his hand but looked past him—“. . . and Razchuts. Make sure you've got your gear stowed and your weapon secure. Fill up your water skins, too. In fact, fill up extras. Do it now, don't wait until first light. The rest of us will hold down the fort.”

The shield dispersed. Listowk saw Ahmist walking toward him and tried to turn away, but the young soldier sped up and got in front of him.

“I want to go, LC. Why didn't you pick me?”

Listowk sighed. “What'd you do, before you were conscripted?”

Ahmist stood up a little straighter. “I worked in my father's apothecary. I made deliveries for the most part, but I was starting to learn how to grind and mix some of the ingredients.”

“Sounds like you should have been a wizard,” Listowk said. “You probably know more about potions and ointments than our own Wiz does.”

Ahmist shook his head. “The army tried to enroll me in the wizard course, but I turned it down. I want to fight, not pick splinters out of fingers and make poultices.”

“Let me see your hands,” Listowk said, reaching out and grabbing Ahmist by the wrists before he could respond. He turned the boy's hands over so they were palm up. “Smooth, nary a callus or scar. You ever swing an axe in your life?”

Ahmist tugged his hands back. “No, but I'm not afraid to kill.”

Listowk remembered the brorra all too clearly. “There's more to being a soldier than that,” Listowk said. “The lads that are going in the morning are from farms and little villages. They're used to working in the fields and forests. There's going to be trees that need cutting. That's why Big Hog goes and you stay here. Besides, for all we know, the action is going to be
here
. Our arrival in this village wasn't exactly quiet, and our special delivery from that last rag let anyone in a five-mile radius know that we're
still
here.”

Ahmist didn't look convinced, but he nodded. “Yes, LC.”

“Good lad,” Listowk said. “Now go round up your gear and make sure your water skin is full. This heat bleeds the vitality out of a man. Off you go.”

Ahmist turned and walked away, his stride the sulking slouch of a disappointed boy.
Too damn bad, my lad.
Listowk made another slow tour of the village, checking that his instructions were being carried out. The soldiers weren't thrilled, but they weren't yowling to the treetops either. He thought about Vooford and how things would have been if the soldier were here. A shame, really, but Sinte had been right; the man had been dangerous.

Listowk stopped when he found himself once again facing the tree line where Wraith's patrol had entered the jungle. The bustle of the troops behind him faded away.

The darkness called to him. It urged him to enter the blackened jungle, to sink into it until nothing that he was remained. He could be free in there.

Listowk stared at the wall of shadows, no longer aware of time or place. He didn't move until the first hint of dawn began to color the sky.

“I'VE GOT SILLSEN BACK
at the roost on plane,” Breeze said. “And, oh . . .”

“What?” Vorly asked. They were three hundred yards above the ground and Carduus was flying a good twenty beats faster per one-twelfth of a candle than his normal cruising speed. The rag was hot, damn hot, but it couldn't be helped. Vorly had taken off his flight jacket and shirt and placed them underneath his saddle to shield him from some of the heat. The wind on his bare chest felt wonderful even as his ass roasted.

The night around them was a dull red, illuminated by the glow of Carduus's molten blood. Vorly's first time on a rag that went hot scared the hell out of him. He was certain he was going to burn alive right then and there. It wasn't so much the heat as the eerie glowing of the vein network inside the rag, especially in its wings, where the outer sheathing was much thinner.

“There's some interference with the plane, hold on,” Breeze said.

Vorly didn't turn around to see. Partly because his neck and back wouldn't let him, and mostly because Breeze had taken off her jacket and shirt as well and sat half-naked just two feet behind him.

They continued to fly on a heading that Vorly hoped was taking them back to the roost at Jomkier. Truth be told, he was relying on Carduus. Navigating at night was a fool's game, especially with cloud cover rolling in from the coast. He checked on the winding progress of the Hols River as an occasional glint off its brown surface flashed from below. If it was indeed the Hols then they were almost home. It was Carduus's desire to get back to his litter that would get them there safely.

Rags born from the same litter had a bond that stayed true even when they were separated at birth and placed with rags from different broods.
Trying to create flocks out of different litters proved frustratingly difficult, so in the end it was just easier to keep them together and form the flocks that way.

“Legion Flock Commander Modelar is with Sillsen,” Breeze said. “On plane,” she added.

Of course he is.
Vorly hung his head. He didn't have the energy to spar with the legion flock commander.

“Tell him to light some fires so we can see to land,” Vorly said. “We should be close, maybe a sixteenth of a candle out. Then tell him about Cytisus.”

Modelar's voice boomed out from Breeze's crystal.
“Vorly, can you hear me?”

Vorly jerked, inadvertently pulling the reins. Carduus growled and shook his head but continued flying south.

“Legion Flock Commander, this is Aether Operator Breeze on board Carduus. We are inbound in one-sixteenth and request fires for landing. We are coming in true from the northwest following the Hols River.”

Vorly smiled. With everything going on Breeze still had the sense to look over the side and pick out the river herself. He might have—no—he would have been pissed when they first started flying together if she had done that, believing she was checking up on him. Now he welcomed the extra set of eyes, no matter how bloody.

“Aye that,”
Modelar said, his voice still louder than necessary.
“Did you find the missing rag?”

“Aye that,” Breeze responded. “Please have the flock ready to launch. We're going to go get them.”

“I've had to threaten to nail their boots to the ground to keep them from launching,”
Modelar replied, unmistakable pride in his voice.
“We're ready.”

“Sir, there!” Breeze said, pointing forward.

Vorly turned. A dagger of white-blue flame shot skyward two thousand yards away off to starboard. He knew that marked the edge of the quarry plateau. The tricky part now would be convincing Carduus.

“Let's get down in one piece, all right?” Vorly said, thumping Carduus's scales with the heel of his fist. The rag growled. He moved his head from
side to side, studying the flame. He'd seen it at dawn and dusk, but this was his first time seeing it in full night. Vorly eased Carduus into a slow turn to port, angling away from the beacon. Carduus immediately began to pull back to starboard.

“Not yet, Carduus,” Vorly commanded, pulling harder on the port rein. Carduus continued to resist. He knew the beacon was home and wanted to get there the quickest way possible.

Vorly reached for the iron gaff, a part of him instinctively ready to pound Carduus into submission . . . but then he changed his mind. He leaned forward, stretching out so that his body lay flat against the rag's neck. Closing his eyes against the heat, he stroked Carduus's neck with the gaff. “Trust me, boy. We're almost home.”

Carduus responded with a rumbling purr and allowed his head to be pulled to port. Vorly eased himself back up, opening his eyes and blinking. They were now curving around the beacon to come at it straight on heading north. That would put them safely through the southern gap where the quarry had been hollowed out.

More flames appeared as they rounded the beacon. A strip of ground looking barely an inch wide marked the landing strip inside the quarry.

“Do you need me to do anything?” Breeze asked.

“Get off plane and hold on tight,” Vorly said, crouching forward as he aligned his head with Carduus's. Vorly knew the rocky shoulders of the entrance to the quarry offered a good twenty yards off of either wing tip. That, however, was when one could see them. Now, as they flew straight toward the quarry, they were lost in darkness. As long as they flew dead center toward the strip they'd clear both sides.

Carduus's purring ceased, replaced by a growl Vorly rarely heard from the rag. “Easy, boy, you're doing great,” Vorly said, hoping his assurances would keep Carduus calm. “Just keep going at those fires and we'll be fine.”

Sudden pressure under Vorly's rear told him Carduus was starting to climb. “No . . . no, damn it. Down, Carduus, down.”

The pressure eased, but Carduus's wing beats sped up. He was four tons of claw, fang, and molten fury, but he was also a three-year-old pup in a foreign land flying at night without his flock.

“Breeze, can you do the harmony thing?” Vorly asked. “Carduus is jumpy.” Vorly couldn't bring himself to say the poor bugger was scared. For all their size and violent tendencies, rags were surprisingly sensitive.

“I'll try,” Breeze said.

“Anything will help,” Vorly said, staring hard at the twin row of fires. They were less than a thousand yards away and no more than one hundred fifty yards off the ground. So close.

A subtle buzz rippled through Vorly's body. He recognized it as Breeze's thaumics.
Damn, it's weak.
If Carduus felt it he didn't let on, continuing to fight Vorly's commands to go lower as they closed in on the roost.

He peered forward. The quarry floor was a flickering mess of shadows and light. To Carduus it must have looked like waves on the ocean. No wonder he was nervous. Vorly hoped he'd have the chance to come up with a better system than this.

Carduus picked up his wing beats again. They were four hundred yards away and closing fast. Vorly was kneeing Carduus with all the force he could muster, but if the rag didn't want to land, nothing short of cutting his head off would make him.

“I know it's asking a lot, Breeze, but we need to land now. If we circle until dawn we'll lose a lot of candle.”

“I . . . I think—” was as far as Breeze got when a powerful thrum set Vorly's teeth on edge.

Lights flashed behind his eyes. His heart beat faster, then slowed as it came into harmony with Carduus and Breeze . . . and another? Vorly gripped the reins and blinked, focusing on the landing. He was beyond tired.

“Keep it up, Breeze, you're doing great!” Vorly shouted.

Carduus slowed his wings, finally letting himself float down toward the quarry floor. The blue-white beacon flashed off of Carduus's port wing. Towering rock faces rushed past on either side and then they were in the heart of the quarry, gliding toward the marker fires burning in stone cairns.

At the last flicker, Vorly pulled back on the reins and put Carduus into a flare. Carduus's head shot skyward and his wings stretched out wide as
he turned them full on to the wind. The sudden deceleration drove Vorly down into his saddle. A flicker later Carduus's massive hind legs touched down with a satisfying crunch and shower of sparks.

“Good boy, Carduus, good boy!” Vorly shouted, unable to hide his smile as Carduus lumbered to a halt and dropped down on all fours. Flockmen ran into view from every angle. Buckets of water flew and burst into steam as they hit Carduus's overheated scales. More flockmen arrived pushing wheelbarrows full of metallic clay slurry, which they poured into a growing puddle right in front of Carduus's snout. The rag didn't need to be asked twice; he plunged his muzzle into the slurry and began blowing bubbles through his nose as he drank it up.

Motion below Vorly made him turn. “Hello, Walf,” he said, addressing the legion flock commander. “Nice night for a flight.”

Modelar shook his head, his smile fading as he looked at Vorly.

“You look like absolute shit. And your eyes . . .”

“It's normal,” Vorly said, unclipping his harness and easing himself out of his saddle. His muscles screamed in protest. Spots danced in front of his eyes. He took a few breaths to steady himself, realizing it was the first time he'd stood in almost a day. “I am off plane and glad to be back.”

“Damn glad to have you back,” Modelar said, his smile returning as he reached up and shook Vorly's hand. “That was a landing for the scrolls. Touched down smooth as fucking silk.”

“You can thank my RAT, Breeze, for that,” Vorly said, motioning with his head toward her. He immediately regretted it as pain lit up his neck and shoulders.

“Well done, Breeze,” Modelar said, turning from Vorly and holding out his hand. Breeze remained bent over her crystal. “She's half-naked,” Walf said.

“We're half-cooked,” Vorly said. “Breeze, the legion flock commander is paying you a compliment.”

Breeze didn't move. Before Vorly could get to her the RAT Hyaminth climbed up beside her. “She's off plane, and she's out cold.”

Vorly recognized suppressed rage when he saw it. The RAT looked ready to hurl a lightning bolt straight through Vorly.

“She pulled a big harmony out of her hat right as we landed,” Vorly said. “Calmed Carduus down. Wouldn't have been able to land if she hadn't.”