Twin Soul Series Omnibus 2: Books 6-10

by McCaffrey-Winner

  #

  “How are we going to get through Korin’s Pass, sir?” Colonel Walpish asked when General Georgos finished outlining the battle plan.

  “We’re going to have help, Colonel,” the general replied, nodding toward Nevins and Morel. He allowed himself a wintry smile. “From the air.”

  “Once we’ve got the pass, we’ll pour our troops through and send the cavalry charging through the mainland and up to Sarsal,” Major Taplan, in charge of plans said, pointing to the long line inked on the map in front of them.

  “Cavalry against a fort, sir?” Walpish said, glancing to the general once more.

  “Again, you’ll have help,” the general said, nodding to the two airship captains once more.

  “Sir, I hate to sound critical but we’ve only the two airships,” Walpish said. “What if something were to happen to them?”

  “The king is building more and they will be ready shortly after we start the war,” first minister Mannevy spoke up for the first time. Frostily, he added, “But, Colonel, if you still find this assignment too onerous, I’m sure there are others who will be happy to take over your command.”

  Walpish gave the first minister a dirty look but shook his head in a quick jerk. “First minister, it is customary when viewing war plans to ask questions and to be doubtful.”

  “Really?”

  “Better to find fault ourselves on paper than pay for errors in blood,” General Georgos said in agreement. He nodded toward Walpish. “Still, Colonel, if you would prefer…?”

  “No, sir,” Walpish replied firmly. “I merely wanted to ensure our success, nothing more.”

  “Good!” Georgos said. “I’m counting on you.”

  “With the airships, I’m sure we’ll be victorious,” Walpish said, nodding toward the first minister in particular. He turned back to his general. “How soon will we begin?”

  “Two weeks,” Georgos said, glancing to Mannevy for agreement. “That will give us time to get to the pass, drill the troops, and deploy the airships.”

  “And the infantry, sir?” Taplan asked.

  Georgos smiled. “We’re going to use our new railroad to move them and our artillery to the pass. When Walpish storms through, they’ll deploy and follow up.”

  “Taking Sarsland with only cavalry…”

  “Actually, Colonel, you’ll just be a distraction,” first minister Mannevy said.

  “Sir?” Walpish said, glancing to his general.

  Georgos nodded to the first minister and then to the two airship captains. “Vengeance started her life as a merchant ship, Colonel.”

  Walpish looked confused.

  “She’s good at carrying cargo,” the general explained, “including infantry and artillery.”

  “We will be able to provide three hundred crack grenadiers and two light cannon,” Major Taplan said.

  “While you’re demonstrating outside the capital, the troops will be lowered in under the cover of night, storm the gates — from the inside — and let you in,” General Georgos expanded.

  “A night attack?” Walpish said. “With surprise?” He smiled. “It will be a pleasure to lead such an attack.”

  “And with the king and capital secured, Soria will be ours,” Georgos said.

  #

  Peter Hewlitt had spent several days keeping the queen under surveillance before he discovered her secret. He had used the old secret passageways himself and had waited until the queen had invited Madame Parkes over. Then he had stood there, in the darkness above her day chamber, watching and listening. His eyes had narrowed in pleasure when he’d seen her grab her necklace and finger the red jewel on it. Her countercharm had been simplicity itself. Dealing with it would also be simplicity itself. And, Hewlitt decided, he would gain control over Madame Parkes at the same time.

  “Your majesty!” Peter Hewlitt called out affably as he entered Queen Arivik’s quarters.

  “Do I know you?” the queen said, taking another sip of her tea.

  “I was wondering if I might have a word with your lad, here,” Peter Hewlitt said. “It would only take a minute or two.”

  “Britches?” the queen said, frowning. She waved a hand. “Go with this man.”

  “Yes, your majesty,” the boy known alternately as ‘Britches’, ‘No Britches’, and ‘Come here!’ said, looking up toward the king’s spymaster with a glazed expression.

  “Come along,” Peter Hewlitt said, grabbing the lad’s hand and leading him away.

  #

  “Your queen is in danger,” Peter said to the lad when they were safely in his office.

  “She is?” the lad asked. “What can I do?”

  “She has a necklace,” Peter said.

  “She has several.”

  “The one she wears when she meets with Madame Parkes,” Peter said.

  The boy made a face.

  “What?” Hewlitt demanded.

  “I don’t like madame,” the boy said, shaking his head. “She’s mean. My sister —”

  “Tell me about your sister,” Peter said.

  “I — I — her name is Lisette,” the boy said, groping for words in his fogged mind. “She’s my little sister. She’s pretty.”

  “I see,” Peter said, digesting both the boy’s sparse description and his foggy-headedness. “And where is your sister?”

  “Madame — madame —” the boy spluttered, frowning, straining through the fog that the tea had created in his mind.

  “She is with Madame Parkes?” Hewlitt guessed. The boy strained to focus, smiled blearily, and nodded.

  “How would you like to help your sister?” Hewlitt asked. He had no more intention of helping the boy’s sister than did Madame Parkes but it would provide him with more leverage on the half-addled lad. Indeed, the lad smiled at him and nodded quickly. “I think that your majesty’s necklace — the one she wears when she takes tea with Madame Parkes — I think that we should give her a new one.”

  “A new one?”

  “Prettier,” Peter said. “Shinier.” He opened a drawer and pulled out a carefully made duplicate of the queen’s necklace. He placed it in front of the lad. “Isn’t it pretty?”

  “It is,” the lad said, fondling the necklace and smiling at Peter.

  “Do you think the queen will like it more than her old, dull necklace?”

  “Yes,” the lad said, “she’ll like it.”

  “So why don’t you trade this necklace for her old one,” Peter said. “You can trade it when she’s sleeping so she’ll be surprised in the morning.”

  The lad giggled at the thought.

  “Put it in your pocket and swap it tonight,” Peter said. “You can give me the old one in the morning.”

  “The morning,” the lad said. He took the necklace and pulled it toward him. He stopped halfway, his brows creased, his face screwed up in thought. “And my sister?”

  “This will help her,” Hewlitt said. He smiled. “You want to help your sister, don’t you?”

  “Yes,” the lad agreed, pulling the necklace all the way toward him and stuffing it in his pocket.

  “The queen will be pleased,” Peter promised.

  “Pleased?”

  “Happy,” Peter said.

  “Happy,” the lad agreed.

  “I’ll take you back to her now,” Peter said. “Just remember, swap it tonight.”

  “Tonight.”

  Chapter Four

  “We’re going to need a forge — a big one — and several apprentices,” Rabel said after Ibb had started the caravan forward once more. Jarin had agreed to go up front to ensure that the caravan did not stray off the road — rather, off the snow which lay over the road.

  “To make steel, I imagine,” Ibb said. “But then what? Do you propose to harden the walls or put up steel
shutters to protect the towns?”

  “Neither,” Rabel said. He turned to Ellen. “How well do you know Soria?”

  Ellen’s brow creased in a frown.

  “What do you know of Soria?” Rabel asked.

  “It’s to the north of us?” Ellen asked. Ibb made a mechanical grinding noise that the little girl was beginning to consider his laugh. She turned to glare at him. “Mr. Ibb, everyday I spent begging for food or freezing. How am I supposed to learn?”

  Ibb made a noise Ellen had never heard before: a wheezing, plaintiff noise that reminded her of all the cold days she’d endured.

  “And that is why I am sad,” Ibb said, turning his glowing red eyes to Rabel. “Children shouldn’t freeze or starve.”

  “I know, my friend,” Rabel said.

  “And that’s why I’m apprenticed to Rabel,” Ellen said, sliding over toward the dark-haired man and hugging herself against him.

  “Ophidian’s will,” Ibb said with a mechanical grumble.

  Rabel nodded and sighed, glancing down to Ellen. “Soria is north of us,” he told her. “We are just north of Korin’s Pass which is one of two passes through the mountains of Geros —”

  “Geros the god?” Ellen asked. Rabel nodded. “He made the mountains?”

  “That is not known,” Ibb replied. “They were there long before I was born.”

  Ellen accepted this with a nod and looked up to Rabel. “Two passes?”

  Rabel smiled at her and tousled her hair affectionately.

  “Near the coast — to the west — is the Sea Pass,” Rabel said.

  “What’s a pass?”

  “It’s a gap between mountains,” Ibb said. “A place where it’s possible to ‘pass’ through the mountains without going too high.”

  “So people want to go through the passes,” Ellen guessed. Rabel nodded, smiling. “If the king wants to invade Soria, he would go through the passes.” She thought for a moment, then asked, “Both of them?”

  “Sea Pass is the traditional route for attacks,” Ibb said. She cocked her head at him, so he continued, “There have been wars between Soria and Kingsland ever since Ametza and Alavor conspired to flood what they now call King’s River and drive out the Sorians.”

  “They stole the land?” Ellen said. She sounded more impressed than outraged.

  “Gods and people have been fighting over lands since time began,” Ibb said.

  “So the king is planning a surprise,” Rabel said, “by attacking through Korin’s Pass and using his airships.”

  “Without his airships, he wouldn’t be able to take the pass,” Ibb said. “The East Peak Fort commands the center of the pass and his troops would be destroyed by the fort’s canon.”

  “With the airships, he can pound the fort into submission,” Rabel said.

  “He’ll probably use only one airship for that,” Ibb said. Rabel gave him a questioning look. “He’ll use the other to prevent any warnings from going north to the king.”

  “And there’s a new king, untested,” Rabel said.

  “Did the old king die?” Ellen asked.

  “He was killed when the new king, Wendel, attacked from the lands near the Pinch,” Rabel said. “And Rassa switched her allegiance when Wendel promised to keep her son, the crown prince Sarsal, in succession to the throne.”

  “Rassa was the queen before?” Ellen asked. Rabel nodded. In a rush, she asked, “And Sarsal is their son? What was the name of the king?”

  “Yes, and the old king’s name was Sorgal,” Rabel said.

  “What’s the Pinch?”

  “The Pinch is the name given for the bit of land that is pinched between three mountain ranges at the far east of Soria, right next to Felland and Vinik.”

  “Felland and Vinik?” Ellen asked, looking slightly overwhelmed by the names.

  “The kingdoms to the east and southeast of Soria,” Ibb said.

  “You mean there’s more than two kingdoms?”

  Ibb chuckled mechanically. “There are very many more than just two. In this northern land alone, there are ten, not counting the barren lands in the bitter north.”

  “We are getting far from our topic,” Rabel said sternly. He looked down at Ellen. “What matters is the attack on the fort.”

  “So we have to defeat the airships,” Ibb said.

  “How?” Ellen asked. “Didn’t they kill a wyvern?”

  “They didn’t quite kill it,” Jarin’s voice came back from the front of the room. He’d stepped through the thick canvas curtain that separated the caravan from the driver’s compartment. “And we are approaching the town.”

  “Korin’s Pass,” Rabel said with a nod. He turned to Ibb. “How well do you know this town?”

  “Not as well as some,” Ibb said evasively.

  “Can we get help here?”

  “I know a better place further north,” Ibb said, “particularly well-suited for what you plan.”

  “You don’t know what I plan,” Rabel said.

  “I am certain you will soon correct that deficiency,” Ibb said.

  Rabel snorted.

  “What plan?” Jarin said.

  “The plan to save East Peak Fort and keep Markel’s men from taking Soria,” Ellen told him. Jarin glanced her way, his head cocked to one side. “Because if the airships can destroy the fort, there’s nothing to stop them from taking the pass.”

  Jarin grunted, turning to Rabel. “And what about me?”

  “Do you want to risk the canon’s fire?” Ibb wondered. “You saw what happened to Wymarc.”

  “I think you could destroy any one airship easily,” Rabel said before Jarin could speak. “But the other one would be firing at you, too. And the two of them together…”

  “Didn’t you say the king was building more?” Jarin said after a moment. Rabel nodded. “So what’s your plan?”

  “The fort is vulnerable because the airships can fire down on it,” Rabel said.

  “And?” Jarin challenged.

  Rabel’s lips twitched. “What if we made it so that the fort could fire down on them?”

  There was a long moment of silence as the other three considered his proposition.

  “And what magic could lift a fort?” Ibb said.

  “Are you familiar with magnets?”

  “The bits of metal that twist to point north?” Jarin said.

  “They’re used on ships,” Ibb said. Ellen’s brows rose, so the mechanical said, “If you know where north is, you can set a course to go anywhere.” He turned to Rabel. “But I cannot imagine how that could help a fort to fly?”

  “Not fly: float,” Rabel said. “You know what happens when you try to push the two north ends of magnets at each other?”

  “They push against it,” Ibb said. “Somewhat forcefully, as I recall. I could imagine…” the mechanical stopped suddenly. A moment later the room was filled with the sounds of gears turning swiftly, and the mechanical’s glowing eyes flickered like candles in a strong breeze. Then silence. And suddenly, the mechanical man’s innards gave a grinding rumble. “You can’t possibly hope to use magnets to lift a fort,” Ibb exclaimed. “How can you hope to make them strong enough?”

  Rabel smiled and pointed at Jarin. “Dragon’s fire to make dragon steel, dragon steel to make dragon magnets.”

  “You’ll tame Ophidian’s flame for your purposes, once again,” Ibb said approvingly. “How high would the fort have to be to shoot down on the airships?”

  “That’s the joy of it,” Rabel said with a chuckle. “These airships aren’t built with steel —”

  “So?” Jarin demanded.

  “So they’re heavier and slower than the one that shot at you,” Rabel said. “I think they can rise just about two hundred feet above the East Peak Fort as things stand now.”


  “So if we get the fort to float up two hundred feet…” Ibb suggested.

  “Three hundred feet might be better,” Rabel allowed, “so that the fort can fire down on them.”

  “I think, my friend, that we should stop here, in Korin’s Pass,” Ibb said.

  “Why?” Jarin asked.

  “Because we’re going to need help,” Ibb replied.

  “But you said you’d get better help further north,” Jarin said.

  “I did,” the mechanical man agreed, “but now that I understand my good friend’s plan further, I realize that we’re going to need local help, too.”

  “It’s a small town,” Jarin said, he nodded to Ellen, “we were there this morning. I doubt there’s more than a thousand people all together.”

  “Above ground,” Ibb said with the mechanical rumble that was his laughter.

  #

  Hamo Beck was a middle-aged, well-dressed man who was growing portly in his old age. His hair was thinning, his dark eyes piercing, and his expression genial. He was shorter than most and wore a long beard which he would stroke whenever he was deep in thought. He had been the mayor of Korin’s Pass — the town that grew up tending the traffic through the pass — for over thirty years. Korin’s Pass had prospered under his guidance as much as he had himself. He wore a waistcoat from which depended an intricately machined gold watch. A marvelous red jewel adorned the gold pin with which he held his fine cravat around the collar of his fine red shirt. No one would mistake him for a man without means.

  “Mr. Ibb!” he said when he saw the mechanical at his door. “What marvels have you for us this day?”

  “If I may, sir, we should talk in private,” Ibb said in gravelly tones.

  “By all means!” the mayor said, waving Ibb inside. “You remember where my office is, I presume?”

  “I do,” Ibb said, “unless you’ve changed it again.”

  Hamo boomed with laughter. “Oh, ho! I remember you knew it when we were doing renovations twelve years ago!”

  “That soon?” Ibb said. “How little changes.”

  “On the contrary,” Hamo said with another boom of laughter. “Since you last came, the town’s almost doubled in size and more than doubled in wealth.” He bowed Ibb into his office, bustled quickly past him to the plush chair set behind his broad wooden desk and gestured for the mechanical to take the seat opposite only to crinkle his brow in worry, as he said, “You do sit, don’t you?”