by Ryan Muree
“You never want new clothes.”
Pigyll shook on the landing but set down gently.
“And second of all, we should have so much money that we don’t need you to woo old men and women with tons of money in VIP lounges.” She threw her gloves onto the steering panel and jumped up.
Cayn smacked the button for the cargo hold, and the door dropped open. Three United Architect military members in their muted green flight suits ran up the ramp into her airship to carry the crates out.
A young man wearing a devilish smirk and a buzzed haircut trotted over with a clipboard in his hand. His name tag read Off. Vorris. “Identification, please.”
She recited Pigyll’s code and more information than she should ever have to give—including birth date and hometown.
“And the weapon?”
Her mouth went dry. “The what?”
He walked over to Pigyll’s side and pointed to the laser gun she’d just installed.
A lump formed in her throat. “That’s uh…”
“Bought and paid for,” Cayn said, joining them and shaking the officer’s hand.
“Wasn’t assuming otherwise. Just wondering if you knew what it was.”
Clove looked to Cayn before replying. “A gun?”
After a brief pause, Officer Vorris smiled. “Looks good.”
He didn’t question it further, and good thing, too. With anyone else, she’d probably tell him to get lost, but pissing off the United Architects seemed dumb when she was going to be relying on working with them for decent money.
“Don’t worry. I’m not going to turn it in or anything,” Vorris said. “The serial number’s probably been scratched off anyway.” He leaned into her. “And if you ask me, anyone with a gun on their ship for taking down Revel pricks is all right by me.”
She forced a weak smile. “Are you the flight controller?”
He shook his head and pointed behind him with the back of his pencil. “Nah, they’re up in the towers on the wall. I’m in charge of supplies.”
“How long does it take to unload?”
The clouds on the other side of the wall weren’t getting lighter or thinner, and with the sun gone, she wouldn’t be able to see how terrible the storm really was.
“Not long.” He grinned. “Don’t worry. We’ll get you out of here ASAP.”
Service men and women shuffled on and off Pigyll, unloading the crates onto organized pallets. Cayn walked over to talk to a few of them, laughing and joking, and completely oblivious to the nerves rolling through her.
“You shoot it yet?” Vorris asked beside her.
She’d forgotten he was even standing there. Clearly, he’d meant Pigyll’s laser. “No.”
“Know how it uses the ether?”
She pulled her fingernail from her mouth and observed him. He wasn’t half-bad looking. His hair might have been dark like Mack’s if it was allowed to grow out some, and his smile wasn’t terrible.
“Shoots ether-light?” she recalled.
“Close enough.” He led her to the side of Pigyll again where they could see the gunnery cage on the belly. “It takes ether-fuel and splits it. The split releases so much energy it incinerates everything with a lot of light. There’s no waste. No by-products to pollute the air. It’s brilliant.”
“To be honest, I don’t want to have to use it.”
He chuckled. “You’re not the gunner?”
“I’m the pilot.” She clasped her hands behind her back. “Cayn handles the weapons.”
After a short time standing and watching the service members unload her ship, the ether-lamps kicked on to maximum luminosity, and she thought she’d felt a few drops of rain.
He leaned into her until his mouth was at her ear. “Want to see your laser’s bigger brother?”
She did, maybe for the distraction, maybe for the surety that Ingini was strong enough to hold back Revel. “Yes.”
He led her down the landing strip and past other fighter airships and their mechanics. They walked far enough along to pass the guard tower on their left and then stopped. He pointed up at the wall with his clipboard in front of him.
Where a section of the wall should have been, there was an identical laser to the one mounted on Pigyll, only a thousand times larger. Several stories high with fuel lines several feet thick running from the ground up into the weapon, the head of the laser appeared flush with the wall.
“Holy shit.” Her mouth dropped open as she tried to imagine the width of the ether-light beam leaving something that enormous.
“The conical head, where it shoots from, will fold out when we’re ready to use it. When it’s like this, the Revelians only see another part of the wall on the other side. The fuel is stored underground and piped in through those lines.” His smile had become positively smug. “Took all three UA Ingineers to connect it.”
Three? They were down to three Ingineers?
“Which one hooked yours up?” he asked.
She shot a quick glance at him. “What?”
His smug grin worsened. “Don’t worry. Everyone in the UA knows there are more than three out there somewhere. Fighting isn’t for everyone. I’m sure you’ve got a friend of a friend who got you connected or something. Right?”
“Right.” She swallowed and looked back to the laser. “Can that beam reach Aurelis?”
He laughed loudly, and she glared at him. “I’m sorry. No. No, it can’t reach across all of Revel to hit the capital, but it could take a fleet out in one shot—maybe even a city or two.”
“And you’ve made the miniature ones mobile?” She gestured over his shoulder at Pigyll as a sharp wind blew through. The storm was coming in.
He winked at her. “I wouldn’t know anything about that, ma’am. It’s highly confidential.”
She snorted. “Oh, but that… that’s not confidential?” She held her hand out at the wall and the gigantic death-dealing cannon strapped to it.
He inched closer. “Little hard to hide, don’t you think? Besides, I thought it might impress you.”
She lifted an eyebrow. Not another one. First Mack, now him. Was there a full moon or something? Times had to be tough if frizzy-haired girls in flight suits had their pick of miners and officers.
“Did it work?” he asked.
It wasn’t that she was opposed to flings or relationships or anything. She’d definitely toyed with the idea of pulling a Cayn—taking a lover in each of the different cities she shipped out of. Certainly ones as good-looking as Vorris. They were never parked in a city for too long, and if she chose the men carefully, they’d never find out about each other. Cayn had it down to an art, even keeping clients in Dimmur. Regular business, he’d claimed.
Truth was, it wasn’t worth the hassle.
The radio at his shoulder lit up bright blue and crackled with a gruff, urgent voice on the other end. Vorris’s smile evaporated as he responded. Whoever was on the other end was speaking too quickly and sounded pissed.
Air horns pierced the stormy breeze with a deafening squeal. UA raced everywhere, shouting orders, and jumping in airships. Covering her ears did nothing to squash out the sound.
Vorris urged her back from the wall and pointed back at her ship. “A Revel fleet is here,” he shouted, but she had to get most of it from reading his lips. “Get out of here now! Don’t ask permission. Don’t climb too high. Just go!”
She sprinted for Pigyll, waving for Cayn to get going. He grabbed her hand to pull her up as the cargo hold door lifted to a close. A few remaining crates still sat strapped to the framing.
“What are those doing there?”
“We had to cut it short.”
“Trent will have our heads.”
Cayn shed his jacket and threw it to the side. “In case you missed it, we hadn’t even been paid yet. I think Trent will be glad we didn’t stick around and let the rest of his crates be destroyed.” He was heading for the laser.
“No, I need you up here with me. I n
eed help with this storm on top of us.” She was fussing with her gloves. Her fingers were shaking too much it was near impossible to get them on. She tossed them behind her, jumped into the pilot chair, and kicked on Pigyll’s engines. The air horns were still whining as airships took to the skies around them.
“Did you see any Revel ships?” she asked.
Cayn dropped down into the copilot’s chair. “I didn’t see a thing. It was too dark. Let’s just get out of here.” He was bent forward, staring out the front window at the UA organizing against incoming Revel.
She pulled Pigyll up in a straight vertical as the rain and hail started to fall.
Chapter 27
O’Brecht’s Wedding — Marana — Revel
Grier took a deep breath as his eyes followed Emeryss to the champagne table.
He’d known the second she’d entered the wedding tent. She looked like a wisp of a dream, delicate and graceful, and without another thought or consideration, he walked toward her. Like an etherfly attracted to a brilliant light, his body moved of its own accord. It was the most natural thing in the world, and yet he’d wasted all this time fighting it.
He forced down his irritation. He should have told her how beautiful she looked the moment he had the chance. That even though it was dangerous attending the wedding, it was good to see her out doing something fun for once instead of training to cast or writing in the drawing room.
He’d been a damned idiot. Of course, she wouldn’t accept his telling her that she couldn’t cast anymore. He’d hoped the incident that nearly killed her would have slowed her down, made her hesitate, and yet, he knew her better than that. He’d thought it was protecting her, and that was stupid of him. Why wouldn’t she view it as another way to keep her locked up and controlled? It was one of the reasons she’d left in the first place.
Emeryss took a sip of her drink, set her glass on a nearby table, and left the cover of the tent.
He started after her. They needed to talk. It was now or never.
Can you two hear me? Sonora said in his head. She must have been speaking with Emeryss, too.
He dodged drunken guests and empty chairs and exited the tent. “Yes.”
A Stadholden ship landed on the south side, but no one’s gotten out of it. We’ve not seen anyone—
“Avrist is here?” He spun in every direction to be sure the bastard wasn’t walking around, but it was too damn hard with the masks. He’d slaughter Avrist now that they were on the ground again.
We don’t think he’ll act out at an advisor’s wedding, but—
“I’ll kill him.”
I know that seems like a good idea at the moment, but you know that can’t happen here. Just get back to the Zephyr and hide.
Hide. That was the last thing he wanted to do, but she wasn’t wrong.
He looked left and right. No sign of her nearby, he moved around the tent.
Before Emeryss’s accident, before even speaking with Vaughn, everything he felt about her and his job had been locked up inside tight behind a wall of rules and tradition. Now, it was seeping from him. He was losing control of it, losing control of what he’d hidden for so long.
It probably wasn’t the best time. Goddess knew it was never the best time. But whenever they talked about it again, he needed to be honest, and at the very least tell her how much he cared for her. Because he loved her. Before, he wasn’t thinking how she’d take his plea for her to stop nearly killing herself. He’d only been thinking about her safety and how he hadn’t been adequate. However, she hadn’t seen it that way, and probably never would.
He scanned nearby crates of supplies and barrels of wine positioned behind a few tent poles and support tethers.
A crash of glass from the wedding tent behind him had him jump and lift his shield-arm. The crash was followed by guests’ laughter.
Emeryss stepped out from behind a gilded tent pole, her mask sitting around her neck. “I’m right here.”
“You heard Sonora?” He realized how terrible it looked. She’d been out all of ten minutes, and already, they were telling her she had to hide back inside.
“Yes.” She answered as plainly and as bored as he’d ever heard her. She made for the ship, several paces ahead of him.
That was it? Nothing else? Was she scared about Avrist coming for her or could she not even stand to be near him anymore?
They walked through the trees to the Zephyr, found the panel to open the side door, and went inside. The door slipped closed, enveloping them in stale air and near-darkness.
She moved to the stairwell.
“Where are you going?”
“The observation deck. Or am I not allowed?”
She was mad, and rightfully so. This wouldn’t be easy.
“If Avrist is coming for me, I’d at least like to see him coming.” She opened the door and started up the stairs.
Silent, save for their footsteps, they climbed the several flights to the observation deck. He used the mechanical lever to open the door for them, and they stepped out into the much cooler garden. Without power, there were no ether-lamps to light the paths, but the moon between a multitude of stars was bright and clear, illuminating the white stone paths and benches.
She stopped at the center and looked up at the stars. “How long do I get to be here? Five minutes? Ten minutes?”
“Emeryss—”
“Just wondering what the rules were.”
Say it. Now or never.
“I wanted you safe. I don’t want to be your jailer. I don’t want to ruin your life or your freedom.”
She turned away. “I can’t do this anymore…” Her voice came out broken.
“Please, talk to me—”
She spun and pressed her fingers against her forehead. “Why? What’s the point? You say you understand my feeling like a prisoner in Stadhold, but you don’t, really. We’re technically still having the same argument as when I first got on this airship. Whether it’s a suite with no friends and family or a room without casting or scribing, it’s the same argument. I want the freedom to live my life the way I want. In what world do you think that keeping me from casting, that locking me up in a library, is better for me?”
“I don’t think that. I just can’t bear the thought of you dying.”
“I understand, but that’s life! You are literally a fighter, ready to put your life on the line—”
“For you.”
“Still. You have no idea when our last moments will be—”
“And it’s killing me!”
“And that’s killing me.” She shook her head, tears sparkling at the corner of her eyes. “I said it before, and I’ll say it again: I care about you, Grier. I clearly don’t care about Stadhold rules, and I want more with you. But I also want to be a Caster and go home when I want. The difference is that I know I can’t have everything. And neither can you. You can’t keep me locked up because you can’t stand the thought of me dying, while teasing me with zippers and kisses… and… whatever else. You’re just playing this game between breaking the rules and following them.”
“The truth is…” He brought his hands to his temples. “You’re right, and I know you’re right. But it’s not about keeping you locked up or miserable. You are willing to kill yourself over this or get killed doing it, and I can’t fight that off for you.”
“Then don’t.”
“How? How do I stand by and just—”
“—let me live my life?”
“—lose you.”
She huffed. “You’ve never had me. If you did, it was all in your head, because you’ve kept your distance from me for a year. This trip together was the most I’ve ever gotten from you about how you felt about me. And the worst part about it, Grier”—she swallowed—”is that you say you can’t lose me, but I don’t really know if it’s because of the job or not.”
She thought he’d only cared about her safety because of the job? “Still? Even after this trip?”
&nb
sp; She shrugged. “I don’t know, and I’m tired of being caught in the middle of your confusion.”
He shook his head and took both her hands in his. She didn’t pull away, and as long as she didn’t pull away, he’d keep trying. As he ran his thumbs over her knuckles, her chest rose and fell quickly.
“I’m sorry, Emeryss.” The words nearly stuck in his throat. Why was it so hard to say? “I’m sorry I haven’t been honest with you.”
Her eyes fluttered as if she fought back tears.
It was a start. One step at a time. Simple, like Vaughn had suggested.
He looked down at his chest, his bracer. “After we first got on the Zephyr, you asked me why I wasn’t fighting for what I wanted.”
“You said, I’m here, aren’t I?”
She’d remembered. “It’s you. You’re the reason I’m here fighting. Not the job. You’re the more I’ve wanted—I’ve always wanted—but that I can’t have. You wanted to learn how to cast; I wanted you.” He took a deep breath. “At the library, if I… If we… I was trained to believe that becoming close to you would make me reckless, lose focus, or fail at protecting you…”
“It was a rule,” she said.
“And it’s a bad rule. Just like keeping your arms in your raclar or not being able to make friends with Keepers when all your peers are eighty-years-old.” He shook his head. “I was so scared of ruining everything I thought I wanted that I followed the rules blindly. I fought daily to keep my feelings for you buried.”
She shook her head, but her features softened. She seemed willing to listen and at this point that was enough. “Then why the sudden change?” she asked. “With the zipper and the kiss…”
The heat of those memories rushed up the back of his neck. “I wanted to see.”
Her eyebrows drew in. “See what?”
“See if I could fight it. See if I didn’t feel anything for you. See if I would do the right thing and focus on my job, my future, instead of—”
“Instead of me.”
“Instead of my happiness. At the library, I couldn’t afford to risk it, not even for a second, if it meant losing my future and losing my assignment to you. I was stuck in my head worrying about what you thought of me and me of you, and what rules I was willing to break and which ones I wasn’t, and how did my future factor into it. And then this trip happened, and the other night, in one second, you were gone. The world almost lost you.”