“I am not helping an Ondinium,” Mika objected.
“Eliina would skin me alive if I passed up a chance to make a trade alliance with the wife of an exalted.” Edvin looked at Taya. “Ondinium has a station at the lake. A flyer like you lives there.”
Taya didn’t think Edvin was referring to the station she wanted, but she didn’t care to be abandoned in the middle of nowhere again, either. Especially around Mika.
“Thank you. I appreciate it, and I will remember.”
“I will go, too,” Juha decided. He turned to Edvin. “Which one of us will carry her?”
“Carry me?”
“She does not look very heavy,” Edvin said, grinning through his icy beard.
Taya wasn’t enthusiastic about being carried, but Edvin convinced her that it would be fastest if she clung to his back as he skied. With many misgivings, she folded her operational wing to minimize the drag. Then she hopped up, wrapping her arms around his broad neck and tucking her legs around his waist.
“You weigh as much as my seven-year-old daughter,” he laughed. She didn’t try to explain about ondium; she just nodded and promised herself that Cristof would never, ever learn about this particular leg of her trip.
Lady, just give me a chance to tell him about this trip at all, she prayed.
Edvin and Juha bade goodbye to Mika, and in moments they were skimming across the snow.
The Demicans seemed comfortable traveling in silence. It reminded her of traveling with Lieutenant Amcathra. She wondered where he was and what he was doing. Then she wondered how her husband was doing. Then she tried not to think at all, because all of her thoughts were depressing.
The Demicans sped down a series of slopes, finding paths in the forest that Taya knew she would have missed on her own and taking them as carelessly as she might turn down a street in her own neighborhood. If the route to the lake was marked in any way, she didn’t see it. At one point they stopped and Juha turned to look at Edvin, who just shrugged Taya up higher on his back and waved him forward. Taya felt ridiculous.
The two Demicans finally slid to a stop upon reaching a flat, snowy expanse. Taya dropped down, her legs and arms aching, and stretched. Edvin did the same, grinning as he rolled his shoulders back and forth.
“You are a little heavier than my seven-year-old,” he admitted.
“Is this Pekka Lake?” she asked, looking around for some sign of a border station. She saw nothing but wilderness on either side. Dawn was still far away, but the stars were fading and the pines were dark silhouettes against a lightening sky.
Juha ignored her, working at the buckles on his skis.
“The Ondinium border is over there,” Edvin said, pointing.
“Do you have a boat?”
“Of course. Sailing is much faster than skiing, and it is easier to bring game home on a boat.” He crouched and began taking off his skis, as well.
“What were you hunting?”
“Deer.”
Taya felt a moment’s disappointment. She’d been hoping he’d say bear.
“Is the hunting good out here?”
He nodded.
“And it is also good to get out of the house for a few days,” he added, amiably. Taya smiled.
“How many children do you have?”
“Four. Two sons and a daughter, and a nephew. You?”
“No children, not yet. I have a niece or a nephew on the way, though.”
A rustling noise made her turn. Juha was pulling loose branches away from three odd-looking boats.
“I have never seen a boat with skis before,” she said, staring.
Edvin jabbed his skis straight up in the snow and trudged over to help his companion. “How else would we cross the lake? The water is frozen.”
Fascinated, she watched as the men set up two long, narrow boats — one painted bright yellow and the other bright red, and both bearing wide painted eyes on either side of their sharp prows — and raised their sails.
“Do you know how to ride an ice craft?” Edvin asked, as they finished.
“No.”
“Then sit in the back and avoid moving,” he said.
“My wings might cause some problems,” she warned him.
He nodded, inspecting them.
“Keep them low, away from the sail.”
As the Demicans pulled the boats out onto the ice, Taya heard a mechanical noise in the distance. She looked up with a sinking heart. Another of the giant Alzanan ships was flying toward them, its painted beasts looking eager to sink their claws and teeth into Ondinium.
Juha and Edvin looked up with her. One dirigible passed overhead, and then another, and then another, and then a fourth. Taya waited, but the fifth ship never came. She wondered if it had been delayed or incapacitated.
“It is the sheytatangri,” Juha observed.
“Did they think the clans would ignore this?” Edvin asked, scowling.
“What will the clans do about it?” Taya felt sick as she watched the dirigibles vanish toward the horizon.
“We will discuss that at the ating.” Edvin turned back to his ship. “Are you ready to leave?”
“Yes. Please.” She pulled off her armature, securing it to her flight suit with the safety rope, then embraced the awkward mass as she settled into the narrow seat. She hoped Edvin was a good sailor.
He sat in front of her, perched on the yellow-painted hull, one foot resting on the ice. He tugged his blue-and-yellow hat closer around his ears and grasped the ropes that controlled the two sails.
“Ready?”
“Ready.”
Edvin lifted his foot and swung into his seat as the ice boat began to move. The wind puffed the sails, sending the two craft skimming along the icy surface of the lake.
Under any other circumstances, Taya would be ecstatic to speed across a frozen lake at such high speeds. But now she hugged her armature close, the nausea of helpless worry filling her empty stomach with bile as she watched the shoreline flash past.
The trip didn’t take long; the sun hadn’t quite risen over the mountains when they reached the wood-and-stone building standing next to a wooden dock. Juha and Edvin deftly steered their boats to the dock, bringing them to slow, sliding halts. Taya climbed out onto the icy lake, clutching her armature.
“Go up,” Edvin said, tilting his head toward a set of wooden steps. “Juha and I will be there in a minute.”
“Thank you,” she said, picking her away across the slippery ice. She clambered up to the dock while the Demican hunters furled their sails and secured their craft. A slatboard walkway led to the house’s front porch. A sign over the door declared it to be the Pekka Border Station in Ondinan and Demican. Taya didn’t see any signaling apparatus.
She knocked.
No answer. She shifted her armature to one arm and pounded harder.
“Hey!” she shouted, in Ondinan. “Wake up! Is anyone in there?” She rattled the door handle, but it was latched. She pounded again.
“All right, hold on, I’m coming,” somebody said, faintly, inside. A lock clicked and the door swung open, revealing a skinny, haggard-looking young man who inspected her with bloodshot eyes. “Oh, scrap,” he groaned, closing his eyes. “Who are you?”
“Taya Icarus, and I need to send a message to Ondinium immediately.” She pushed past him, smelling cheap liquor, and began untying her armature. The main room of the station was cluttered, musty, and dark. Her foot hit a bottle that rolled to one side. “Who’s the icarus here?”
“Uh.” The man swayed a moment, swallowing. “Me.”
She gave him a sharp look. He was in no shape to fly.
“Can you send a ’graph from here?”
He turned, groping for the nearest chair, and sank into it.
“No.”
She re
leased her bundled armature, not bothering to watch as it floated up and thudded against the ceiling.
“Then where’s your armature?”
He stared at her, pale and uncomprehending.
“Your armature?”
He lifted a shaking hand and pointed to a set of wings floating in a dark corner.
The door slammed open, letting in light and a gust of cold air. The young man cringed as Edvin and Juha walked in, stomping snow off their boots and loosening their snow-dusted jackets.
“It is as dark as a cave in here.” Edvin pulled open a window and unfastened the shutters.
“Please….” The icarus shrank back, looking ill as he protested in Demican. “Shut the door.”
Juha closed it as Edvin threw open the shutters. Grateful for the light, Taya inspected the other icarus’s armature, pulling out Cristof’s toolkit. She’d need to adjust the strut lengths to accommodate her smaller size.
Juha built up the fire in the large stove in one corner as Edvin opened two more windows. The morning light did nothing to improve the room, which seemed to combine a cluttered general store with somebody’s personal living space.
“So, Nayan,” Edvin said as he looked around, “what happened to Hari?”
“He was transferred,” Nayan said, letting his head sink into his hands. “A week ago. Do I know you?”
“We met twice last spring, but you were drunk then, too.” Edvin seemed amused. Taya began adjusting Nayan’s armature as Juha set a pot of water on the stove. “This girl says the Alzanans are invading Ondinium.”
Nayan lifted his head an inch.
“What?”
“They just flew five giant, heavily armed dirigibles across the border,” Taya snapped in Ondinan. “Shouldn’t you be on the lookout for something like that?”
“I monitor water travel.” Nayan dropped his head again. “North Peak Six monitors the rest.”
“Do you have anything to eat?” she asked, disgusted. He groaned.
“He has food,” Juha reported, checking the cupboards.
“Is there anything I can make quickly? I’m starving, but I can’t waste any time.”
“I apologize,” Edvin said, his eyes widening. “I should have offered you food.”
“Yes,” Juha agreed, although whether he was agreeing with the apology or the observation, Taya couldn’t tell. She tried on Nayan’s armature, then pulled it off to adjust the tailset. Juha began slicing cheese and sausage. Her stomach growled.
“Tell me about the clans,” she said. “How many are likely to support the sheytatangri?”
“The clan elders do not endorse the sheytatangri. The sheytatangri demand unity, but our elders prefer independence. They do not want to elect a king or queen of Demicus.”
“Sheytatangri are terrorists,” Nayan muttered in Ondinan from beneath his arm.
“They’ve teamed up with the Alzanans,” she replied, in the same language.
Nayan groaned again.
“The elders will call an ating to censure the tangri,” Juha said, from the kitchen, “but there is little we can do to stop a flying ship.”
“Well, if the ating would stop the clans from cooperating with the Alzanans, even for a little while, that might help,” Taya said. Remembering Mika’s criticism, she pulled out the map she’d taken from the Alzanan aerostat. “Where are the clans located?”
Edvin looked curiously at her. Taya wondered if he’d ever seen a map of Demicus before.
“This is where we are now,” she said, finding Pekka Lake. “Where’s your clan?”
Assisted by Juha and the extremely reluctant Nayan, Taya marked the location of a number of Demican clans, along with their political, personal, and tangri affiliations. Some of the names were familiar from her diplomatic corps studies, but the books had done little to prepare her for the complexity of clan structures and relationships.
“Thank you,” she said when they were finished. “That will help. How long will it take to call the ating?”
“Elder Helka can summon our closest neighbors within a few days,” Edvin said. “But for a full ating, messengers must be sent weeks away. It is not a quick process.”
“Can you have the neighboring clans meet yours here at the station? If—” she glanced at the map, “Malo, Alta, and Teje decide not to support the invasion, we will want to let the Council know as soon as possible.”
“Here?” Nayan sat up, wincing.
“Here,” Taya said, firmly. “Which means you’ll have to repair my wings and fly the clans’ decision up to North Peak Six so they can ’graph it back to Oporphyr Tower. This is important, Nayan— you’ll be the diplomatic liaison between Demicus and Ondinium.”
“Me?” Nayan stared at her through bloodshot eyes. Edvin and Juha looked equally unconvinced.
“You’re the only person available. Ondinium is counting on you.” She hoped he was up to the responsibility. “Edvin, Juha, do you think you can convince your clans to work with Nayan?”
“We can try,” Edvin said, dubiously. “I understand that it will be necessary to contact your Council, but….”
“He can do it,” she said, with more confidence than she felt. “Thank you. Is there anything I can do for you? As I said, I have no money now, but—?”
“My wife Eliina trades furs in Kovolo with an Ondinium woman with a circle on her forehead,” Edvin said. “Rupa. Rupa… Aelius? A name like that. If you can help her with her trade, or bring her something to take back to the clan, you could leave it there.”
Taya jotted down the names, waved the note a moment to dry the ink, and tucked it into her flight suit pocket next to her watch.
“I will do whatever I can,” she promised. “Juha? What about you?”
The hunter pushed the sliced cheese and sausage toward her.
“Give Eliina money for me. She knows what supplies I need.”
“I will.” Taya bolted down half the food and then jammed the rest into her flight suit pockets without a moment’s hesitation. Nayan didn’t look like he’d be eating any time soon. Juha handed her a mug. She wrinkled her nose at the steaming combination of hot water and the same herb-flavored liquor she smelled on the icarus.
“I need to be able to fly,” she objected.
“It will keep you warm,” Juha said. “You have far to go.”
I suppose a little diluted alcohol probably won’t kill me, she decided, taking a hesitant sip. The heat was welcome. Taya had forgotten what it felt like to stop shivering.
She finished the drink and turned back to the map.
“Show me the best route to the station, Nayan.”
The icarus dragged himself over to her. This close, Taya could see stains on his clothes, a careless combination of Demican fur and felt and Ondinium silk and cotton. His hair had a brownish tint to it, and dark stubble covered his cheeks and chin. Like her, he wasn’t a pureblood.
“Here.” He pointed with a trembling hand. “And here.” His finger moved north. “Fifteen minutes most days. Wind’s good to here.” He pointed beyond the station. “Then it’s dangerous.” He glanced at her bundled armature. “How bad is the damage?”
“The Alzanans shot at me and knocked some gears out of alignment. I’m sure you’ll be able to fix it with a manual and a good set of tools, but I don’t have the time.” She pulled out her compass, checked the route, and folded the map. “Edvin, Juha, thank you very much for helping me. This is very important to all of us.”
“What is your name again?” Edvin asked.
“Taya. My husband is Exalted Cristof Forlore; whatever I send your wife will have the Forlore name on it.”
“I will tell Eliina,” Edvin promised.
“Taya. Tell your elders there are many Alzanans in the north,” Juha said. Taya looked at him, confused. He met her eyes. “The Alzanans sell
the northern clans guns and generators; things Ondiniums will not sell to the southern clans.”
“Then … if there were a war … do you think the northern clans will side with the Alzanans?”
“The clan elders will not approve of a tangri making an alliance without consulting them, but if they feel they must choose sides, it is likely that they will choose the side that does not treat them like children.”
“Thank you,” she said, unhappily. “I’ll warn the Council.”
With her hasty meal sitting uneasily in her stomach, Taya strapped herself into Nayan’s armature and walked outside to climb the ladder to the roof.
The sun had finally risen over the surrounding peaks and crags. The sky was a brilliant pale blue dotted with fluffy white clouds. With her breath condensing before her, Taya stretched her muscles, tested the borrowed armature’s gears, and then threw herself into the air.
Nayan, like all icarii, was smaller than average, but he was still taller and heavier than Taya. She’d adjusted the armature’s struts, straps, and tailset to accommodate her height, but there was nothing she could do about its overall mass, which had been designed to lift a heavier body than hers. She swooped up into the sky and struggled to keep herself aligned. Nayan’s broader wings would have been perfect if she’d wanted to skydance, but for straightforward travel, they weren’t as accommodating as her own, smaller wings.
On the other hand, she didn’t have to work as hard to gain altitude. Soon she soared over peaks washed in light from the sunrise. There— a glimmer of silver. She angled toward it. It was the train track that circled Ondinium, supplying the nation’s border stations and ensuring that troops could be transported to any place in the country.
Not that infantry would be much good against dirigibles.
A bright gleam caught her eye. The signal station. But to her alarm, its signal mirror tilted out toward Demicus instead of toward the other peaks along the border.
Taya let the warmer currents flowing over the peaks lift her higher as she searched the skyline. Her eyes caught another flash farther away. The ships had crossed the border and were working their way through the difficult passes toward their first targets. They hadn’t gotten as far as she’d feared; maybe the Alzanans hadn’t realized how bad the wind conditions could be in Ondinium’s high passes.
Clockwork Lies: Iron Wind (Clockwork Heart trilogy) Page 29