Lee, Sharon & Miller, Steve - Liaden Books 1-9

by Liaden 1-9 (lit)

  The lady twisted, coming off the jump-seat in a flurry of gray and spun to face Jela. "Wingleader—your mission!" she snapped, a mouse giving orders to a mountain.

  Jela moved his shoulders, but—"Tell me," was all he said.

  "You, the pilot and the ssussdriad will proceed to the world Landomist, where Revered Scholar Liad dea'Syl is confined with all honor to Osabei Tower. You will gain his equations which describe the recrystallization exclusion function. You will then use them as you see fit, for the continuation and the best interest of life. We will draw off the sheriekas lord who now has our enterprise under scrutiny. The hound did not see you—only us."

  She paused, her thin form seemed to waver, to mist slightly at the edges—then she was as solid as the decking on which she stood. Solid as Jela, who sent a long black glance at her, and said nothing at all.

  "Wingleader, I require your word," the lady said softly.

  Jela spun his chair to face the tree; spun back to face the lady.

  "You have my word. I will do my utmost to liberate Scholar dea'Syl's equations and use them in the service of life."

  The lady turned to face Cantra, who pushed up from her lean, ready to resist any demands for her oath.

  "There are two," Rool Tiazan said, in that flat, distant voice, and held out a hand. The lady altered her trajectory, and landed at his side, her hand gripping his. "We will diminish," he said.

  "Diminish holds a hope that extinction does not," the lady answered. "Proceed."

  "Nay, look closely..."

  "I see it," she snapped. "Proceed!"

  Wreathed in mist, he opened his eyes.

  "M. Jela—your choice! A death in battle or of old age?"

  Jela was on his feet. "What are you doing?" he demanded, but Rool Tiazan merely repeated, on a rising note.

  "A choice, M. Jela! Time flees!"

  "Battle, then," Jela said, calm as if he was deciding between beer and ale.

  Across the chamber, Rool Tiazan smiled, and raised his lady's hand to his lips.

  "So," he said softly. "It is done."

  The mist was thicker around the two of them. From the midst of it, came the lady's voice, calm and sounding distant.

  "This world is tectonically active, and there will soon be an earthquake of major proportion. It would be well if you were soon gone. The confusion will cover your departure."

  There was a sudden toothy howl of wind, harrying the thickening fog, the temperature plummeted, the mist shredded—

  The dramliz were gone.

  Cantra spun to the board, slapped it live, initiated a self-check, and spun back to glare at Jela.

  "Tell me you saw that," she snapped.

  "I saw it," he answered, and gave her a long, deep look. "I believe it, too."

  "So, you're for Landomist."

  "I am," he answered. "I thought we all three had our orders."

  The board beeped readiness; the tree sent an image of dark clouds and lightning, with more and worse towering behind...

  The ship trembled a moment, rocking on the tarmac. Alarms lit the board in yellow, orange, and red.

  Swearing, Cantra hit the pilot's chair, yanking the webbing tight.

  "Strap in," she snapped at Jela, "this is gonna be rough."