Kingdoms of Ether (Kingdoms of Ether Series Book 1)

by Ryan Muree

  A metal panel popped and clanged down near her foot. She yelped and tucked in her leg in time.

  “Cayn,” she called, clawing her way across.

  She wrapped her tired fingers around the edge of the hole he’d drop into for the laser and peered around the edge.

  Empty.

  “Cayn…” This time it came out more as a whine. “Cayn, where are you?”

  He could have crawled out. With the smoke and the fires, he might not have seen her.

  A hose burst free from the wall, releasing steam into the hull.

  She had to keep looking.

  With a little struggle, she managed to get to her knees. They screamed in protest, but she pushed through, got her ankles underneath her, and while leaning on a wall, got her legs to hold her up.

  She panted against the metal.

  “Keep moving,” she muttered to herself. “Find Cayn.”

  Using the wall as a support, she made her way into the cargo hold. The back doors must have been blown off, or they’d been demolished in the crash. Point was they were gone, and it wasn’t hard to see why. Beyond the cargo hold was a carved-out crater from her ship grinding to a stop. Trees beside her ship had been uprooted.

  In the distance, there were shouts and rustling wind, but nothing more. No airships. No air horns. No alerts.

  She didn’t recognize the grasses and trees, but she wasn’t familiar with the fields outside of Fort Damned anyway. They had to have seen her fall. They’d send a fire crew out soon with some medical help.

  “Cayn?” she tried again, slowly taking one step at a time out into the upturned soil.

  The damp sod gave, and she tumbled to her knees and elbows.

  She cried out, more pain tearing through her ribs, her hips, her knees. It was white hot, and her body began to shake. She bit down gently on her forearm and sobbed.

  Where was Cayn? Where was the damn rescue team?

  She cleared her throat, wiped her eyes, and fought to stand again.

  There were light rumbles in the distance, and though the sky had cleared enough for the early dawn to shine through, it was too hard to see much farther than her ship. The world looked too dark and foreign.

  The rain and hail had stopped at least, but it was much colder than she’d remembered. They’d flown for a while before that pulse fried her systems and sent them crashing down, so there was no telling how far back Fort Damned was.

  On wobbly legs, she shuffled her feet one step at a time into the grasses and trees. “Cayn?”

  Turning her head in every direction for something recognizable, she caught the full sight of her busted ship. Smaller flames flickered around the sides, but the hull was mostly a skeleton of its former self. The gunnery cage was busted open and crushed on the side, and the fins were either burnt to nothing or missing completely. The laser weapon had dragged through the dirt but still looked intact.

  “Cayn?”

  Thunder rumbled again in the distance.

  “Cayn?” she called louder.

  He wasn’t there. She wasn’t even sure he was there when they’d been hit by that pulse. He hadn’t answered then, either.

  She shuddered and hugged herself against a chilly wind. Grunting, she limped back into the cargo hold of her ship for whatever cover it could provide from the cold morning. She slid down and rested her back against Trent’s remaining two crates.

  Tilting her head back, she closed her eyes.

  The last two crates the UA hadn’t managed to get removed when the air horns went off had survived both the attack and the crash. Bombs that could have exploded if struck. She had literally dodged her death while riding it at the same time.

  Stupid.

  She had to think of a plan. Cayn wasn’t anywhere near the ship, and she wasn’t comfortable with the alternative. Not yet. Cayn was resilient and quick-thinking. He’d probably figured how to get out just fine, and he’d come find her when he could. Or she’d find him first.

  She sniffled and wiped her eyes.

  What would he do in this situation? He’d expect a plan. That’s how he kept her moving forward. He’d say it would all work out. He’d say they didn’t have anything to worry about because whatever happened they could handle it.

  “I can’t handle it alone, Cayn.”

  No. She had to focus on the plan—a plan. Any plan. He wouldn’t do the stupid thing of sitting here and waiting to die from his wounds. And if it was any other time, she’d tell someone like herself to get up and find her way back on her own. If no one was going to help her, then she’d have to help herself.

  Cayn would tell her to get her ass back to Fort Damned and live to get a new airship for another day. Stuff was replaceable. Money was nothing but lies on paper. And then he would have made a joke about his clients thinking highly about his services.

  She took a deep breath. Cold or not, wet or not, pain be damned, she had to go. Her ship wasn’t lost for good. She wouldn’t be walking away from it, really. She’d just be getting help. She could salvage some of the parts, rebuild Pigyll. She didn’t even have to get a new airship just yet.

  The grass crunched outside of the cargo hold.

  “Hello? I’m in here. I need help, and I need to find my brother.”

  Two pairs of eyes peered around the side of the busted doors.

  She winced and tried to sit more upright. “I’m in a lot of pain. Can you help me out, please?”

  They glanced at one another and stepped into the remains of the cargo hold. Their boots were heavy, their suits dark, and…

  Revelian.

  Her breath caught, and her blood stopped cold. How were there Revelians? Had Revelians invaded Ingini completely? Had they broken through the wall?

  “You’re far from home, aren’t you?” one said.

  Far from home? No, she was…

  Oh no. No, no, no.

  She wasn’t able to see where she was when she’d crashed. She’d been trying to maneuver through those airships before… If she’d crashed in Revel, she was as good as dead.

  She tried to scoot away deeper into the hold, but her ribs refused and kept her from bending or moving at all. She had a hidden gun somewhere near her in one of the panels. “Don’t come any closer! I’ll shoot!” She began frantically pounding random parts of the wall for the one that would pop open.

  Both sets of their hands raised. One lifted his hand to a busted light. It fused back together and lit.

  They were definitely Revelian, smug in posture and appearance. Crisp, clean uniforms were definitely a tell.

  “I’ll shoot you,” she repeated. Her fingers still worked at every nook and cranny in the walls for the pop-out door to the hidden gun Cayn had stashed somewhere last year.

  “I doubt that,” the one on the left said. He had dark, braided hair and nearly a foot in height on the other one.

  “You see what she’s guarding, Jahree?” the shorter one asked.

  She jerked her head left and right. “I’m not guarding these—”

  “United Architect?” Jahree asked her.

  She didn’t answer. She wasn’t giving these assholes anything.

  “She’d be in uniform.”

  Jahree smiled. “Why do you have bombs, kid?”

  Kid? “Screw you.”

  The shorter one half-laughed. “Definitely Ingini, though.”

  Jahree sighed and knelt next to her.

  She pressed herself as flat against the crates as she could.

  “Busted ship, this side of the wall… Are you part of the Ingini’s UA?” When she didn’t answer, Jahree frowned. “You know we’re taking you in, but we can look at your injuries.”

  Lying, self-serving bastards.

  “Your head looks pretty bad,” he continued. “You could have internal injuries, too. We can help you.”

  Like she’d let them take her and pretend to be nice. They’d probably use her and torture her for information. And her dumb ass knew the shipping routes all across Ingi
ni. Who knew what the Casters could do? She’d heard enough stories to know she was screwed.

  She pressed her hand against the ache in her side. She’d have to be tougher than nails. She couldn’t give in.

  “Mykel, see what we can get for the ship.”

  The shorter one immediately meandered on through.

  She spat at Jahree. “Screw you, asshole.”

  He wiped his cheek clean, stood, and sighed.

  “Check out this weapon,” Mykel called from the front. “Worth 1.2mil easy. The rest is just scraps. I could probably rebuild it, but I’m not sure something this old is worth it.”

  If her legs hadn’t given up, if her side wasn’t literally trying to kill her, she’d be up and killing this fool.

  “We’ll save it and see what Adalai thinks,” Jahree said. “Actually, save the whole thing. We’ve got to show her the crates, anyway.”

  “We could get Vaughn to help us move these things back.” Mykel walked into the remains of her cargo hold and dusted his hands off. “Can you walk?” he asked her.

  “I’ll carry her,” Jahree replied.

  She kicked her legs out at him as best she could, holding up her one free hand to keep him back.

  Jahree stepped back. “Last chance to do this civilly.”

  She panted through the pain and tightening around her chest. There was no way out, no way to find Cayn, no way to salvage her ship. No Nilkham. Not even Mack or Scuffle or Old Man Ollie. She was a goner.

  She wiped her nose. “You and your stupid, dictator king—”

  Jahree lifted his hand.

  “—can get f—”

  He snapped his fingers, and the world went black. Her body fell limp. She couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, and sleeping suddenly felt like a really, really good idea...

  “At least the fighting is over,” Mykel said. His soft voice was farther than she remembered. “It was devastating.”

  Good. I hope you lost a hundred men… thousands, even… I hope… it set… you back… to… the… New Age…

  Chapter 32

  Observation deck — Zephyr Airship — Lamnira

  Adalai kissed her thumb and pressed it against both glass pictures of Kayson and Tully.

  Their enlistment photos had been framed and placed in a ring of long-burning candles in the center of the observation deck. Kayson’s glasses lay near his picture, and a locket found in Tully’s room draped over hers. The sepia-colored picture inside the jewelry was from a much older time before real colors were used. The girl in the picture could have been a sister or a mother. It could have been Tully herself.

  Either way, it had been Emeryss’s idea to put up a shrine to honor them. These days, most Revelians honored the dead in a short service and moved on. But Neerians apparently believed it took time for mourners’ spirits to heal from the loss and wish the dead well.

  Adalai hadn’t hated the idea, and Sonora had agreed to it.

  She reached into a small section of her sash cinched at her waist, retrieved a flask she’d tucked in there, and took another sip from it. Already almost empty.

  Tully was a pain in the ass, and Adalai had wanted her removed and grounded from the Zephyrs, but she’d never wish an incinerating death on any fellow Revelian. And according to Emeryss, Tully had saved her a second time after Adalai had returned to the fighting. Tully had earned her little shrine.

  Too bad General Orr didn’t see it that way. She squeezed his crumpled message in her fist while Tidbits nibbled on some flowers in the garden beside her.

  The Zephyrs will be decommissioned, Orr’s message had said.

  She was so angry she could punch a hole through Zephyr’s hull. Instead, she tossed back another swig from her flask and plopped down on the nearest bench. “Tidbits, I promise, if there are any spirits up there, they hate me.”

  Tidbits trilled at her.

  “No, they’d hate you, too, I’m sure.”

  The doors to the observation deck slid open. She didn’t want to be bothered and almost got up to leave, but it was Sonora who came to sit next to her. The bags under her eyes were thick and dark. Her eyes were as red as they’d been.

  They sat for at least ten minutes, not saying anything.

  “Want me to go away?” Adalai finally asked. She took another sip of her drink and winced through the burn.

  Sonora took the note from her hand. “He wants us to appear before the advisors for a hearing?”

  She nodded. “For not following orders. Can you believe it? Fight a whole damn battle, save the friggin’ day, and I still get in trouble for not following his orders.”

  “When did Orr send it?” Sonora asked.

  “Three hours ago.” She went to take another sip but found the flask empty. “Hol-shit.”

  Sonora pulled back with a disgusted face. “What is in that?”

  She shrugged a shoulder, and Tidbits tripped over herself. “Watch yourself, Tidbits.” She hiccupped. “You’re drunk.”

  “Where did you find this flask, Adalai?”

  Adalai pointed to Marana several miles behind them. “Off one of those poor bastards Grier cut in two.” She should tell him she’d been impressed. He could fight. “He’s a damn good Keeper.”

  Sonora flattened her lips and handed back the letter. “This is signed from General Orr himself.”

  “Yup. According to him, I screwed up bad. You are looking at the worst soldier in the entire RCA. The damn Wyverns are probably thrilled. They’ll be at the hearing, I’m sure.”

  Sonora leaned forward and put an arm around her. “Just like Emeryss, you can’t blame yourself for Kayson and Tully.”

  Adalai squeezed her eyes shut. “I’m more worried about you.”

  Sonora exhaled loudly. “Me, too. I don’t think it’s sunk in yet. I keep walking past his lab to see if he’s up late, taking notes on things. I can’t bring myself to go inside it…” She wiped tears from both cheeks. “I don’t want to talk about that. I want to talk about Orr. I still don’t see how we messed up. Everything that happened was out of our hands. How were we supposed to know that Ingini would be launching a full-scale attack on us? I don’t understand why he’s so mad.”

  Adalai held up her fingers and began counting off. “Let me enlighten you, then. Screw up number one: I disobeyed orders by not getting Emeryss onto that escort’s guppy of a ship—”

  “So, they were sent from him?” Sonora tucked some of her dark hair behind her ear.

  Adalai tried to gesture yes, but her head bobbed in different directions instead. “Screw up number two: not believing his flunkies.”

  “That doesn’t seem right. You were doing your duty making sure they weren’t Ingini.”

  She pressed her hand to her chest. “I know that. You know that. He does not care.” She still couldn’t believe those two baby soldiers worked for him, but he had said so in the letter. “Screw up number three: a third of O’Brecht’s guests, one of the best healers in the RCA, and the only remaining time Caster died in that battle.”

  Sonora shook her head. “Again, none of us saw it coming, and O’Brecht’s invited us to a dinner in thanks for saving him, his new wife, their family… I don’t get it.” She picked up Adalai’s flask and sniffed it. “Ugh… Ada, that’s ethyrol.”

  “So?” She lazily dropped her head back; it was too heavy.

  “So, it’s made from ether. It’s raw and terrible for you.”

  She’d seen men trade lots of things for ethyrol back in Aurelis when she was just a street-hopper trying to make it through the day. It wasn’t exactly legal, but what did that matter now?

  “Ada, I’m starting to think Orr had it out for us,” Sonora said.

  That didn’t make sense. He’d given them one of the best airships for unit assignments. Every last one of them was highly skilled and well-trained. They’d been out of sorts before the Zephyrs, but they’d just screwed up. She’d screwed up…

  “Have you talked with Urla? Has she said what she thinks we
should do?” Sonora asked.

  In Orr’s eyes, Adalai had failed her orders, despite Emeryss stopping the giant cannon, and now, they could be separated. In one letter hastily written, they’d been ordered to return and face the king’s advisory council for judgment. And if Advisor O’Brecht’s account of the situation couldn’t save her or her team, neither could Urla.

  “No point. We’re done.”

  “It’ll be okay, Ada.” Sonora frowned. “We did a good thing here. We saved a lot of people. We’ve helped with Marana. You’re a patriot to Revel. General Orr will see that when we return.”

  Adalai didn’t want the pity. She didn’t want the sad eyes either. She didn’t deserve it. She should have been comforting Sonora.

  “Have you told him what Emeryss did?”

  Her stomach lurched. That was an easier answer. It wasn’t smart that anyone but them understood what really happened to the cannon. General Orr hadn’t asked how it came to be destroyed, and she hadn’t offered. “Emeryss asked me not to.”

  “Why?”

  She rested her head on Sonora’s shoulder, and Sonora rested her head on hers. “She’s afraid she’ll be more of a target now that she can cast.”

  “How so?”

  “She casted without a grimoire, Sonora.” Adalai lifted her head and looked at her. “You should have seen it. She doesn’t need grimoires—ever. Imagine if everyone could learn what she did. Grimoires would be pointless. Stadhold and the treaty would be pointless. Ingini could learn.”

  Light dawned in Sonora’s eyes. “Our entire economy would be…”

  Adalai nodded. “So, can’t even brag about what we accomplished. We have to hide it. I have to claim the cannon somehow malfunctioned.”

  “Have you told him about the Ingini we’re keeping in the cargo hold? Or the weapon Mykel found on her ship?”

  Adalai’s eyes wanted very much to close, and her mind wanted even more to sleep and forget what loomed ahead. “Not yet. Why?” She tipped her flask again. Maybe there was a drop left.

  Sonora snatched it and tossed it behind her in the garden.