Skyborn

by Eric Asher

  “What of the crew from the supply ship?”

  “They never disembarked. The soldiers themselves unloaded on the far side of the city. Too distant to affect the ambush.”

  Archibald exhaled and rubbed the back of his hand. There were more wrinkles there now than he remembered. That always seemed to be how it went. He was one age, at one moment in his life, until he wasn’t.

  Jacob might be as brilliant as Charles, but Archibald wasn’t sure how to get the tinker, so stalwart in his beliefs, to reconstruct some of Charles’s old weapons. There were any of a dozen of the old machines that could protect Midstream, but the only builders who knew of them were long-dead now. Buried like the machines that had once ruled the deserts.

  “Archibald!” a voice rang out, deep and kind, with every spoken syllable enunciated.

  “Leave us,” Archibald said to the guard.

  There was no question, only a quick exit.

  Archibald turned to find George, garbed in a long brown cloak that only gave hints and flashes of the armor the royal guard wore beneath it.

  Gladys paced beside him, Princess of Midstream, and inheritor of a war she never should have had to see. But it was Alice, Jacob’s friend, who had thrown down the burdensome tyrant named Rana. Archibald supposed he should be thankful for that. It might be his only hope of resurrecting the old war machines.

  “Princess,” Archibald said, offering a shallow bow. “George, it is always good to see you both.”

  “What do you need?” Gladys asked, her voice low, cutting.

  Archibald blinked. He hadn’t expected that kind of forcefulness from someone who amounted to little more than a child. “How are the fortifications coming along? I only wish to see if the city is in need of more hands.”

  “More hands are always welcome,” Gladys said. “We can offer shelter and food but little else, despite your generous discounts.”

  Archibald bristled at her tone. “Princess, we offered you and your people shelter inside the walls of Bollwerk for years. We secured the funding for your restaurants and artisans to open their stores. They were provided real opportunities.”

  “And I appreciate that,” Gladys said, some of her usual pep returning to her words. “But Midstream is our home, and we have longed to return here.”

  “The princess speaks too kindly,” George said. “We are aware of the strategic advantage of Midstream. You wish us to be a distraction to Fel if they march, and a base of operations if you march.”

  Archibald glanced between the princess and the royal guard. He could deny it, spin a tale of the history of the city when it sat between two ancient rivers, but George would certainly see through it. And it seemed Gladys had inherited some of the cunning of her late mother.

  “You are correct,” Archibald said with a nod. “Midstream is strategic, as are my plans for Dauschen. Should either fall to Fel, we lose an advantage. Given Mordair and Newton’s madness that led them to destroy Ancora, I have no wish to see that repeat.”

  “Madness?” George asked. “You see madness? I see cold calculation. A broken spirit is deadlier than any invasion. Moments of madness lived in the Butcher—Gareth Cave, the Bay of Sorrows, the burning of the North Woods. But a man who deceives an entire Parliament is not rife with madness.”

  The North Woods … Archibald had almost forgotten about that. At the end of the Deadlands War, when the Butcher was hailed as hero or monster, he set fire to the dry timber of the North Woods, devastating the tree-dwelling villages who had dared support his enemies.

  Charles had argued he be sentenced for war crimes. Archibald himself had defended the monster because the North Woods had been his enemy too. But George was too young to know about that incident. Slowly, Archibald realized George was not commenting on the history of the Butcher, but his knowledge of things Archibald thought long forgotten.

  “What do you want?” Archibald asked, echoing Gladys’s question in a much more reserved tone.

  “Better defenses,” Gladys said. “The old riverbeds keep the Tail Swords away. They don’t like the pebbles and stones beneath the sands. But that isn’t a barrier to an army. We need walls, like Bollwerk.”

  Archibald shook his head. “Walls will make you a bigger target.”

  “Then a wall you cannot see,” George said. “Traps and defenses that lie hidden from an aggressor until it is too late.”

  Archibald blew out a breath. This was the moment. He could convince them, or lose the opportunity altogether. “Charles was the best tinker I ever knew. He could set a trap like no other. Build towering Mechs that stood as tall as the Knob.” He gestured to the small mountain behind Midstream. It had a chunk taken out of the summit, almost as if it had long ago been a volcano.

  “Charles is gone,” George said.

  “Jacob isn’t,” Gladys said.

  Archibald tensed, forcing himself not to smile as the pieces shifted across his board. “Jacob is in Dauschen, building some of the old tinker’s war machines as we speak.”

  Gladys shook her head. “He wouldn’t do that.”

  Archibald nodded. “I admit, he is trying to repurpose them into construction equipment. But it does not change the fact they are machines of war. Only this morning he struck down a group of Fel’s assassins with the arm of a Titan Mech.”

  Gladys and George exchanged a look. George shrugged. The princess turned her gaze back to Archibald.

  “You could convince him. Go to Dauschen. Consider this my favor I once said you would owe me for shelter in Bollwerk.”

  “We give no favor after this,” George said.

  Archibald held his fist out to Gladys. She placed her open hand atop his, wrapping fingers around the fist. It was the greeting of the Steamsworn. An unbreakable oath. But this was his gamble. One he’d been setting in motion since he first met Jacob.

  Charles von Atlier might have given up his warmongering, but his apprentice could be persuaded. Of that, Archibald was sure.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Mordair sat at a corner table in an ancient pub near the outskirts of Fel. It was a place he’d been many times over the decades and was rumored to be where the plot was formed to overthrow the tyrant king a century prior.

  His knife scraped on the pewter plate as he cut through a crunchy potato. While the history of the pub appealed to him, the food left something to be desired. The ale, at least, was passable.

  Mordair let the guard stand in front of his table, nervously dancing from one foot to the other while he finished his meal. Only when the remnants were cleaned from his plate did he look up.

  “You bring news?”

  “Yes, Lord. Our scouts have returned from the desert. Midstream shows signs of fortification. Nothing of note, but there have been spikes laid in the riverbeds and a handful of metal plates raised before the homes near the border.”

  “Archibald?”

  “Yes, Lord. The Speaker of Bollwerk was seen inside the city.”

  Mordair took a deep drink of ale, letting the strange spices burn his throat. He knew better than to ask what was in it. It had taken months for him to eat his own chef’s fried noodles again when he discovered the meat was made from the hearts of Carrion Worms.

  But in time, one could grow accustomed to most anything.

  “I would have preferred to leave the desert people uninvolved.”

  “Perhaps a targeted strike to clear the city would be in order?”

  Mordair shook his head. “I doubt the princess and her guards would be persuaded by less than an outright invasion.” He paused, swirling the ale in his stein. “Though a targeted attack could draw Archibald away from Dauschen. Hmm …”

  The guard waited in silence as Mordair pondered that idea. It was a risk, and those who attacked Midstream would likely be lost. If Ballern would commit their destroyers to the maneuver, it would have a better chance, but after losing three of them to Bollwerk, the queen was far more hesitant.

  “One squadron. No more. Fire on the
ir builders, whoever is raising the fortifications. Let us see who comes to their aid.”

  “At once, My Lord.”

  Midstream would be the key to defending Fel against Bollwerk, but Mordair could not abandon his plans for Belldorn either. Leaving his flank unguarded could be more disastrous than allowing Bollwerk to take Midstream in earnest.

  Mordair finished his ale and smiled into the empty vessel. Interesting times awaited.

  * * *

  Alice’s eyes flickered open. Confusion set in when half her vision was filled with cream and black blurs. She sat up, the pages of a book briefly sticking to her cheek. Alice rubbed her face and looked around the room. She was at Maxine and Mallory’s, Mary’s parents’ home.

  But what was that glorious smell?

  Alice shuffled out of the small bedroom, leaving The Dead Scourge open to the page where she’d fallen asleep. She’d found some more excerpts about Ballern and wanted to ask Furi about them. It wasn’t every day she had a chance to talk to someone from across the seas.

  Laughter rose from the kitchen. Eva stood at the stove, a high flame licking the sides of a black skillet. Mary sat at the wide oval table, gesturing for Alice to take a seat.

  “You’re in for a treat!” Mary said. “It isn’t often I can get Eva to cook.”

  Eva scoffed at that. “It isn’t often you’re home.”

  “Where are Maxine and Mallory?” Alice asked.

  “Work,” Mary said. “You slept in. It’s already time for lunch.”

  Alice started and her eyes darted in search of a clock. She groaned. “I was supposed to be back at the prison an hour ago.”

  “Don’t worry,” Eva said. “You have unlimited access now. Decreed by Lady Katherine herself.”

  Alice blinked at that. “What? How?”

  Eva glanced at Mary. “I suppose some old friendships are still honored.”

  Mary smiled, but it was small and reserved and Alice wasn’t sure why.

  “Well?” Eva said. “Tell her the other good news.”

  Mary sighed. “You can go to the Crown Library.”

  Alice raised an eyebrow. “I thought anyone could go to the Crown Library?”

  “Anyone who isn’t a criminal,” Eva said. “Unless they have special permission from the Lady of Belldorn.”

  “I still don’t like it,” Mary said.

  “Hush.” Eva pointed at her with a steel turner. “Alice can take care of herself.”

  “What are you two talking about?” Alice said, still trying to wake up.

  “You can take Furi to the library,” Mary muttered.

  Alice lit up. “That’s wonderful! I think she’ll love that. I mean, I’ll love that too. But it will be good for her to get out.”

  “You need to be careful,” Mary said. “We don’t know anything about that girl. She could be just as dangerous as the worst of the warlords.”

  Eva crossed her arms. “I think we know Alice can handle herself around warlords.”

  “That’s not what I meant, and you know it,” Mary said under her breath.

  Alice pulled out a heavy wooden chair by Mary and flopped onto the cushioned seat. “Thank you for that.”

  Mary grunted. “Just be careful, okay?”

  Eva flipped the contents of the skillet. “All done!” She slid what looked like scrambled Pill-Bugs out onto a plate, but the dish had the appearance of a bright yellow pillow. Small ovals of sausage were set into the plate of food.

  “What is this?” Alice asked, taking a deep breath.

  “Chicken eggs,” Eva said. “And the sausage is made from lizards they farm south of here.”

  “This must have cost a fortune!” Chicken eggs were a delicacy in Ancora, something usually only enjoyed around Festival. There was so much on the plate, Alice had thought they couldn’t possibly be chicken eggs.

  Eva glanced between Alice and Mary, her brow furrowing.

  “They’re hard to come by in Ancora,” Mary said. “Their farms are limited due to the mountains.”

  “Ah,” Eva said. “Well then, enjoy. They can get expensive here on occasion, when the pens are raided by young Fire Lizards, but for the most part, they’re priced the same as a good cheese.”

  As much as Alice enjoyed the light texture and salt of the eggs, the sausage might have been the best burst of flavor she’d ever tried. Whatever spices were in it had dyed the meat a brilliant red and given it a subtle heat.

  “I think she’s hooked,” Mary said, stuffing her own face with a towering forkful of egg.

  Alice leaned back in her chair. “You have to make this next time Jacob is here. He’d love it!”

  “I’ll keep that in mind. Assuming Maxine and Mallory aren’t opposed.”

  Mary shrugged. “Why don’t we have everyone over to our place next time? Avoid the issue altogether?”

  “Our place?” Eva asked, leaning a little closer to Mary. “You mean, you’re going to move in?”

  “Of course I am. It just always seemed silly with me being in the sky most of the year.”

  Eva grinned at her. “Don’t be ridiculous. It’s better than saying you still live with your parents! How old are you now?”

  “On second thought …”

  Eva laughed and leaned in to kiss Mary’s cheek.

  Alice finished her plate, scraping up every last bit of egg and sausage. She felt like one of the old men at the Wildhorse back in Ancora. Full and ready to loosen her belt. But she didn’t have time to sit around. She needed to get back to Furi. She had questions no one from Belldorn, or this side of the sea, for that matter, could answer.

  “We warmed the boiler this morning if you’d like to shower,” Eva said.

  Alice nodded. The bizarre multi-nozzled shower had been one of her favorite things in the house. She wondered if Jacob could build one for her mom, only to remember a moment later that her mom’s home was gone. Alice shook off the dark thoughts at the edge of her mind. They’d rebuild Ancora and make it better than it had been before. Nothing would stop that.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  The guard at the prison held up her ID and pointed to it as Alice approached. She hunted through her bag and pulled out the small rectangular card. The guard waved her through.

  Alice still thought it was odd that they didn’t search her bags or person. It seemed like it wouldn’t be too difficult to smuggle something dangerous in. Or perhaps that was more of the leeway she enjoyed thanks to Lady Katherine. After all, they were going to let her take a prisoner outside.

  She made her way through the common room, where one of the prisoners raised a hand in greeting. Alice waved back. He was a friend of Furi’s and his name was Beck. She thought about asking to take Beck with them too, but she’d already established a connection with Furi, and worried if Beck was with them, he could be a deterrent.

  Alice headed down the hall of narrow doors until she reached Furi’s room. She knocked on the open doorway and waited for Furi to turn around.

  “Hi, Alice.”

  “How would you like to get out and see the city today?”

  Furi hesitated and stood up straighter. “What?”

  “I have special permission from the Lady of Belldorn to, well, escort you to the library.”

  Furi’s eyebrows rose. “A library in Belldorn?”

  “The library in Belldorn. The Crown Library. It has a copy of every book ever published here, and some from other cities across the world.”

  Furi frowned. “Are you teasing me? This is real?”

  Alice reached into her pack and pulled out a second badge tied to a long lanyard. “You have to stay close to me, but this is all you need.”

  Furi took the red and copper rectangle, sliding the lanyard over her head. “Okay. Why not?”

  Alice grinned. “Then let’s go! I’ve never seen the library here, and I can’t wait.”

  * * *

  Furi followed Alice into the hall, trailing the flame-haired girl into the common room. She could
n’t help the suspicions that bubbled in her mind. Most of the prisoners who were escorted out of their cells in Ballern were either released or executed. She didn’t much believe she was going to be released.

  But she also didn’t think this young girl would lead her into an execution.

  “Furi?”

  She paused at the exit and turned toward her name, finding a concerned-looking Beck. “I’ll be back shortly.”

  “Back?” Beck hesitated before leaning closer and whispering. “Where are they taking you?”

  Alice had stopped too, walking over to stand with Furi. “Don’t tell anyone, please, but I’m taking Furi to the library.”

  Beck’s forehead wrinkled and he shook his head, his voice a hissed whisper. “What? A library?” He looked at Furi. “Are you sure about this?”

  “I’ll keep her safe,” Alice said. “She has permission.”

  Furi glanced between the two before focusing on Beck. “I trust her.”

  Beck crossed his arms and sighed. “Furi … just, be careful. This is too strange. This hardly feels like a prison, and now they’re letting you out into the city? You know the stories of these people.”

  Furi didn’t answer.

  “I want to hear those stories,” Alice said in a hushed whisper. “I’m not from here, you know? Should we have brought Beck, too?” Before anyone could respond, Alice shook her head. “Too late for now.”

  “Is there a problem?” a deep voice asked from behind them.

  Furi turned to find an armed guard standing there. She wasn’t sure where he’d come from, much less why it looked like there could be an issue.

  It was Alice who answered. “No problem at all. Thank you.”

  The guard nodded and walked away, slipping through a narrow doorway behind the reception desk.

  Furi reached out and squeezed Beck’s arm. “I’ll be careful. You do the same.”

  He grunted and returned to a small game table in the corner.

  “Let’s go,” Alice said, and Furi nodded as she followed.

  * * *