The Unwilling Aviator (Book 4) (8 page)

She glanced at where his gaze lay and sighed. "He is, but somebody would be doing him a favor if they would keep him out of the skies. His name's Crash Enburn. He's signed up for the tournament, but in that condition he's bound to hurt more than himself. Hugh and I are resting our hopes on him not finding a squire in time so he'll be disqualified."

"Aviators have squires to carry their equipment?" Pat wondered.

Ti laughed. "No, they do that themselves. It's a tradition for the aviators to carry their kites up the long stairway to the cliffs as a show of their trials and perseverance. What squires do is go up in the air with them and give the kites balance and a second pilot in case something goes wrong with the aviator," she told them.

"Is this flying very dangerous?" Ruth asked her.

Ti pursed her lips and nodded. "Yes. Hardly a year goes by where someone isn't injured or killed, but the aviators know the risks and go up there knowing the winds will do with them what it wills."

"Ti, our kegs!" one of the tables shouted.

Ti reached into her pocket and dropped a small menu onto the table. "I'll be right back," she promised, and bounced away to deliver one of the three trays. Pat picked up the menu while the mens' attention was on the woman.

Percy watched her go with appreciation that went beyond her ability to juggle trays. "She has her brother's balance," he commented.

Pat set down the menu and looked around the table. "Where is Sins?" she wondered.

Canto jerked his head toward one of the darker corners. A dark figure sat in the shadows at one of the tables. "He's been brooding there watching his sister since we came down."

"He's very kind to watch over his sister," Ruth defended him. More than one man in the room cast rueful glances at the cloaked assassin, and no one made a physical pass at Ti.

"Aye, like a mother hen watching her chick," Canto chuckled.

Ti returned with two fewer trays and a smile on her face. "Now what'll it be? We have one of the best cooks in the city and a ready supply of food from the region."

Pat raised an eyebrow. "How did this place manage to get one of the best cooks in the city?"

"Hugh is fond of good food and he's willing to pay well for a good meal," she replied.

"Before we get started, there is something I would dearly like to know that I believe only you can answer," Percy told Ti.

Ti smiled and shook her head. "If it's about my brother then I can only answer so much. He's made me promise not to speak too much about him," she warned him.

"Not even why he decided to become an assassin? He seems to have more moral scruples than the usual murderer," Percy pointed out.

"Ah, that. He didn't always want to be an assassin. When he was younger he wanted to be a castor, but he didn't have a bit of magic skill in him. It just doesn't run in our blood," she told them.

Percy smiled. "That explains his affection for that unique dagger and cloak."

Ti nodded. "Yes. Well, when he found he couldn't do so much as a card trick he decided to take on being an assassin."

"That's quite a change in occupational choices," Percy commented.

She shrugged. "He's always been a bit of a rowdy boy, and wanted to do a job that'd keep his life exciting. Being an assassin's dangerous, but there's a high compensation package," Ti pointed out. She turned to look at her brooding brother and sighed. "But it does keep him away a lot, and I wish he'd visit me more often than once in a Chaos Wind."

"Chaos Wind?" Pat repeated.

Ti looked back at the table and nodded. "Yep, that's when the wind is at its worst. Usually the wind blows consistently above the cliffs, but when a Chaos Wind comes out of the east it's a terrible howler. Aviators can't fly during those storms and the wind picks up all the dirt making for such a mess. Fortunately, they only happen once every few years and we're not due for another one for another year or so. Now what'll you be having?"

"We'll take the house special, and would you take a drink to the aviator fellow?" Ned requested.

Ti frowned. "I don't like encouraging his drinking, and don't appreciate when someone else does it," she told him.

Ned smiled. "I assure you my intentions are honorable."

Their waitress pursed her lips, but nodded. "All right." She strode off to get their food and the drink.

Pat noticed Ned stroke his beard and grin. "What are you plotting now?" Pat questioned him.

Ned broke from his thoughts and feigned innocence. "Whatever can you mean, my dear Pat?"

"She wants you to 'fess up and tell us what's going on in that mind of yers," Canto chimed in.

Ned shrugged. "I was thinking that we should help that gentleman," he replied.

"Help how? Through his complete inebriation so he will be unable to fly?" Percy guessed.

"We're going to give him a squire," Ned told them. Their jaws hit the table.

"But without one he will be disqualified and won't get himself killed," Pat reminded him.

"But we need him to qualify for the tournament, and win it," Ned countered. Pat opened her mouth to protest, but Ned held up his hand. "All will be told to you in good time, my dear Pat. For now Fred should offer his services to the gentleman and lead him outside."

Fred's eyes widened. "Me? Why me?" he protested.

"Of all of us, you have the most honest face. He will not suspect our intentions," Ned pointed out.

"But what are our intentions?" Pat persisted.

Ned smiled and shook his head. "You will see in good time. First we need Ti to play her part."

At that moment Ti came from the back room and set a mug of drink before the man. The aviator raised his head off the table and spoke a few words they couldn't hear over the din of the crowded room. Ti nodded toward their table, and the man turned and gave them a toothy, lopsided grin. Pat sank in her chair while the others smiled and bowed their heads back at him. Ti, still with a frown, walked off to attend to other tables.

"Now off with you Fred, and tell him you were the one gracious enough to deliver his life blood to him," Ned encouraged the young man.

Fred cringed, but stood and shuffled over to the aviator's table. Crash leaned back in his chair and grabbed his mug. "Are ya the-hic-guy who gave me the drink?" he asked the young man.

Fred cringed when he was hit with a blast of the man's foul breath. "Um, yes, it was me," Fred replied. He eased himself into the seat closest to the man, but scooted it back a foot when he got a whiff of the man's delicate odor of old food and drink. "I was, um, I was wondering if I could be your squire."

Crash laughed and downed half the mug. He slammed the container back onto the table, stood, and grinned at the young man. "Ah would be glad to-hic-be yer squire."

"I wanted to be the squire," Fred corrected him.

The drunk man frowned and blinked for a moment before a light clicked on in his mind. "Ah right. Ah would be glad to-hic-be yer aviator, so ya've got yerself a job, boy." Crash grabbed Fred, lifted him to his feet, and wrapped an arm around Fred's shoulders. The aviator pulled Fred against him and the smell of old food and alcohol was nearly overpowering. The man swept his arm in an arch in front of them and his glossy eyes looked into empty air. "Jist you and me to-hic-together forever in the skies. We'll fly to-hic-the west and see all the pretty fishy ladies in the seas."

"Um, sounds great," Fred replied. He glanced over to the table with pleas in his eyes, but his face drooped when he saw Ned was gone. Pat frowned at the castor's empty chair, stood, and stalked out the front door of the inn. "Um, h-how about we get some air?"

The man let out a great laugh and knocked Fred on the back so hard the young man stumbled into the table in front of them. The men at the table sneered at the boy and tossed him back into the hands of the drunkard. "Get some air! That's the thinking of a good squire! Ya've got yerself a job, boy!"

"You already said that," Fred pointed out.

"Then yer pay was jist doubled!" Crash cackled.

"Great, so we can go outside and get that air?" Fred pleaded.

"Just lead the way. Ah'm not quite myself right now, but a little fresh air would git me going!" Fred cringed when Crash again slipped his arm across his shoulders, but the young man shuffled forward dragging the drunk along.

CHAPTER 10

Fred steered them through the tables and out the open door to the dark square. Night covered everything in its dark cloak, and the only lights were from the perpetually lit lanterns strewn about the perimeter. Neither Ned nor Pat were anywhere to be seen. Fred turned to the right and dragged Crash out of visual sight of the door and toward the opening of a nearby alley. A few yards into their journey Crash dug his his heels into the mud and stopped them.

"We don't need to-hic-go farther. Not when Ah've got this." Crash pulled out a bottle from an inside pocket of his coat and jiggled it in front of Fred. "What say we do some celebrating to-hic-tonight?"

"I'm afraid he's engaged, as are you," a voice spoke up. Fred heard a thwack and Crash's eyes rolled back. Crash fell forward onto Fred, who didn't have time to brace for impact so they both crashed into the mud with Crash atop him. Fred swallowed mud and flailed his arms and legs before Crash's body was pulled off of him.

He sat up, wiped the mud from his eyes, and glared into the faces of Ned and Pat who each held onto one of Crash's arms. "You could have warned me," he snapped at them.

"We needed the element of surprise," Ned replied.

Pat glared at the castor. "I don't care if you needed the element of wind. Whatever you're planning to do with this man is a bad idea."

"Nonsense, my plan is a good one. We merely need to keep this gentleman in our rooms until the tournament is over," Ned told her.

Pat's mouth dropped open and she accidentally let go of the heavy body. It was too heavy for Ned to hold, and Crash crashed back onto Fred. "Your plan is to kidnap him?" she exclaimed as Fred flailed at their feet.

"My dear Pat, heroes don't kidnap. They merely place people out of harm's way," Ned corrected her.

"Unwillingly!" she pointed out.

He waved aside her concerns. "Unimportant details."

She swept her hand over the unconscious body. "Not to him!"

"Get him off me!" Fred yelped. Only then did the pair remember their muddied decoy.

"My apologies, my boy," Ned spoke up. Pat and he lifted Crash off the young man and hefted him into the alley where they propped him against the wall of the inn.

Once their victim was secure Pat whipped her head over to the old and, to her, senile castor. "Have you lost all your wisdom? What mad plan can you have that needs this man?"

"In due time. First we must carry away our treasure and hide it away before someone mistakes him for a victim of kidnapping rather than our guest," Ned insisted.

"We are kidnapping him!" Pat argued.

"Ya might need help with him. He looks heavy," someone quipped. The three turned to the head of the alley and found Canto with Percy and Ruth standing behind him.

Ned smiled. "Heavier than one would guess for an aviator."

"We can't do this!" Pat protested.

Canto glanced at her and raised an eyebrow. "Ya got a better idea?"

"We don't even know Ned's idea," she pointed out. Everyone turned to stare at Ned.

"I am curious to know what is going on in that head of yours," Percy agreed with her.

Ned straightened and cleared his throat. "If you insist-"

"We demand," Pat corrected him.

"My ingenious plan is to keep this poor man out of danger while one of us impersonates him, enters the tournament, and wins it. Then we will release him," Ned explained to them. "His name will be honored, and he will win fame and glory. We will have our stone, and then destroy it. It's a win-win situation for us all."

Pat crossed her arms and nodded her head to Ruth. "Have you even thought how Ruth is going to impersonate a man? Women can't go up," she reminded him.

Ned chuckled. "She isn't going to impersonate this man. She is going to impersonate a squire and direct the kite while Fred flies above her as the aviator."

Fred's head whipped up and he struggled to his feet. "No. Nonononono. I'm not going up in one of those things," he refused. He pointed at Percy. "Make him do it."

Ned chuckled and shook his head. "He isn't as light as you, and in these machines weight is very important. The lighter the passengers the more maneuverable the kite."

Pat dropped her arms to her side, and one hand fell on the butt of her sword. "This is madness! None of us knows anything about these kites and-"

"I would like to try this," Ruth spoke up. All eyes turned to the meek gargoyle girl. She blushed and looked to the ground. "If Fred doesn't mind." Everyone swiveled their heads to Fred.

He cringed, but the pleading look from Ruth made him meekly nod his head. "I guess we can give it a try," he reluctantly agreed.