Whispers of the Skyborne (Devices of War Book 3) (53 page)

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Authors: S.M. Blooding

Tags: #Devices of War Trilogy, #Book 3

BOOK: Whispers of the Skyborne (Devices of War Book 3)
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He squeezed her hands on last time, then returned to his own work.

She took in a deep breath, pushing around the fear, willing her hands to stop shaking. If they survived, she’d work on a school.

No.
When
they survived.
When
. The she would
build
a school.

She nodded, breathing in the courage she didn’t quite believe.

When
they survived, she would finalize her plans for a school and would show them to Carson. Perhaps, they’d build the school together.

Or, perhaps, he’d choose to remain in the heat of the battle, where he was needed and she would be at the school on her own.

Either way, it didn’t matter.
When
they survived, she would build a school.

She took in another breath, this one less shaky than earlier. Her hands stilled with confidence. Mostly.

She would build a school, and in that school, she would teach her students about anatomy. She would teach them about the different plants, about the different animals. She would study them all. She would immerse herself in learning so she could instruct.

She closed her eyes, ease filling her limbs as her mind raced down the possibilities of a good future.

When
they survived.

She would build a school.

On the
lethara
of Yasu Noriko, Chie brushed her hands along a pillow. How many things would she change?

The colors.

Turquoise and blue reminded Chie of all times she’d been made to feel small and insignificant. She picked up the blue pillow and tossed it across the room.

The curtains. She stalked toward them, yanking them from the wall, throwing them across the room with the pillow.

The cushions. She kicked them aside.

The low, round table. She shoved it toward the wall.

Standing in the center of a relatively bare room, the pile of refuse behind her, she breathed a shaky breath, fingering the embroidery of her violet jacket. Her fingers trailed to the scarlet skirt she wore, grasping at the freedom the cloth offered. Something so small as cloth, as color.

Hitoshi stepped into her field of vision, his eyebrow cocked at the pile behind her.

She said nothing.

He smiled and dipped his head, gathering first one of her hands then the other.

She rested her hands in his, not grasping him for comfort, not requesting his support.

His smile widened and his brown eyes shown with pride, love and respect. “You are a remarkable woman, Eto Chie.”

She shook her head. “Chie Yasu Noriko.”

He chuckled, then nodded. “You are a very remarkable woman, Chie Yasu Noriko.”

Who was she kidding? Not him. “How do I do this?”

He lifted one shoulder and shook his head. “I’m not the one Oki chose. She chose you. So, what do you offer?”

That question certainly didn’t help. She was a guppy, scared of everything.

He quirked his lips and released a breath. “Do you have any idea just how fearless you are?”

“No.” Because she wasn’t.

“When you’re fighting for someone you care about, you care nothing about yourself.”

“I did with Oki, but we had to fight for her. Ino Nami was going to kill her.”

“And she did.”

Chie swallowed the instant pang of hurt.

“Love this city. Love these people. Create the Yasu Noriko. Shape the customs, shape their ways. Guide them.”

“And what happens if I fail them?”

“What happens when you fall down?”

She rolled her eyes.

He squeezed her fingers. “You get back up. Trust me. You will be wonderful.”

She released a breath through a half-smile of her own, and reached up to touch his jaw. “I love you.”

He took her fingers and drew them to his soft lips. “I love you, and I look forward to seeing this new world you shape.”

“We just have to survive today.”

He took her head in his hands and pressed a kiss onto the top of her head. “We will, Chie Yasu Noriko.”

After so many years of hearing a very different name that stated
what
she was, not
who
, it was strange to hear this new name.

This name that offered freedom from oppression.

She grasped his wrists, hope flaring painfully in her chest.

He beamed down at her. “We will.”

Aiyanna pushed her shoulders back and raised her chin before spinning the wheel to open the door to Synn’s room.

He turned, raised his eyebrows, then turned back to his reflection.

She narrowed her eyes. He was strapping his belt over a good shirt and the vest his father had given him right before the ice breaking ceremony. It fit him tightly, but— “You’re wearing that into battle?”

He shrugged with one shoulder, his concentration on the buckle. “I don’t see why not.”

“That’s your favorite vest. What if you have to use your Mark?”

He smiled at her through the reflection of the long mirror. “I won’t be able to. My Mark hasn’t risen since I was struck by lightning.”

That worried her. She was confident he knew how to fight without his Mark. He’d only had his Mark for a few months. But he had become dependent on it. Or, maybe, it was less “dependent” and more reliant. His Mark was just so constant.

She wasn’t confident he would make it back.

Her hands yearned to feel his flesh under her palms. She stepped toward him and settled for feeling the warmth through his clothes. Tingles ricocheted up her arms, cascading over her shoulder. They filled her mind with a heady sensation. How had she lived all her years and never felt anything like this?

“I’m relieved, almost.”

She looked at his reflection over his shoulder.

“I am a man, not a Mark.” His smile was genuine, the first real smile she’d seen since she’d met him. It was small, barely there, but real. “Not this day anyway.”

“You were always a man.”

“Not since I received my Mark.” He turned toward her, his blue eyes searching hers.

She took his hand and placed it on her hip. Where had this boldness come from? Her hands moved without command, sought him without her approval. But she wasn’t stopping herself either.

He breathed deeper, his lips parting as something changed in the back of his eyes. “What are you doing, Aiyanna?”

“Living,” she whispered, against his lips before capturing them with her own. They moved as if with a will of their own, coaxing his.

He held back for a moment, then groaned and moved closer.

She pulled away, staring up into his face.

His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Living,” he whispered with a smirk. “Before we head into battle. Are you trying to tell me Tarot has said you will die this day?”

She shook her head, running the tip of her nose along his jaw line, rivulets of energy flowing in swirls down her body. “I’m simply tired of existing.”

He cupped the back of her head and broke contact, a smile lighting his face. “You chose an odd moment to say this.”

She smiled back. “Survive, Synn.”

He frowned at her and tipped his head.

She took in a short breath, licking her lips. “Your Mark isn’t working. The programmer—Bob—said you need to keep Nix close to you. Something about your Marks.”

He ground his teeth and pulled out of her embrace. “You choose odd moments to say things.” He rolled his eyes and shook his head.

“You need Nix close to you.” But
she
needed
him
close to her.

He shook his head, his lips tight.

“Please. Synn.” Aiyanna stepped closer to him, her hands open, beseeching. He would need his Mark. The enemy was wounded, but how badly. They were taking the fight to the Ino’s common ground. What would happen? What would they find? Would Ino, Shankara, and the Han be able to regroup? “Survive.”

He met her gaze, his blue eyes scorching.

She hoped he saw in her what he was searching for.

He closed his eyes and turned, throwing up one hand. He spun the wheel to the door, then slammed it shut behind him.

Aiyanna’s heart raced. Had he said yes, or no?

And did she pray to Tarot they would win?

Or did she take the powers in her own hands and make it so?

 

 

 

Y
VETTE GRABBED HOLD OF THE
dock of the
Layal,
bobbing slightly in the water.

I reached down, taking her arm and helped her out of the water.

Her long, wet hair clung to her naked form. The heads of several of her men surfaced in the oddly calm waters below the docks. Offering her a robe, I frowned. “What did you discover?”

She cleared her throat, coughing a mouthful of water onto the planks. Straightening, she wiped her mouth. “The waters are polluted. It hurts to breathe down there.”

“Maybe we should keep you out of there, then.”

She shrugged with one shoulder. “We hit Shankara harder than we thought. And Rose took out most of their planes. We saw two planes, both badly damaged. Most of their cannons are gone. There are three floors entirely missing.”

I pursed my lips and released a breath of surprise.

“These waters are going to kill their
lethara,
but I don’t think they even care.” Yvette focused her violet gaze out the dock doors behind me. “They’re abandoning him.”

My heart twinged. A great deal of love and respect went with a
lethara,
particularly one so large.

Also, though, if he really were dying, he would be a prize worth capturing. So many of the things we took for granted were scavenged from older
lethara
. I bit my lip, kicking myself for even thinking it.

One of our messenger girls stared dazedly up at Yvette.

I smiled. “Hana.”

The girl jerked her gaze to me.

“Tell Keeley I have a mission for her.”

Hana nodded, then raced off, her dark braid flopping along her back as she ran.

Yvette smirked at me, then flinched.

I diverted my attention away. Yvette hadn’t had a chance to reconnect with Keeley yet, so she didn’t know that Keeley and I were no longer entertaining the idea of courtship.

Well, maybe after all of this, they would have the time. At least, I hoped so. For both their sakes. “What about the Han? Where is he?”

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