Clockwork Secrets

by Dru Pagliassotti

  Taya approved. She’d flown over Ondinium’s security zone numerous times as a courier— the artificially cleared twenty-five mile stretch between the station and the city would be all but impossible for anyone to cross unseen.

  “Well, the main goals for tonight’s raid were to destroy the train and the Formidable— either would be good, and both would be ideal.” Cristof ran a hand through his long hair. “If we’re lucky, they’ll never get the holocaust bomb out of A-O Terminal.”

  “The team should return in a few more hours.” Constante looked at the pocketwatch next to her mask. It wasn’t one of Cristof’s pieces. “I recommend you two go refresh yourselves. I will call a meeting as soon as we get a report, and I’ll expect you both to attend.”

  “Yes, Exalted.” Taya sprang out of her seat and bowed. Cristof frowned.

  “Very well,” he said, ungraciously. “We’ll be in my tent.”

  Cristof’s tent was the same size as the lictors’, although someone had draped an extra piece of fabric over the entrance to provide him with more privacy. It contained those few possessions he’d scavenged from the Firebrand, including a handful of his Cabisi-language technical books and journals, Taya saw with amusement. They had to maneuver around each other in the confined space, but she was happy to undress and scrub too many days’ worth of accumulated dirt and sweat off her skin with the help of a washrag, a scrap of soap, and a bowl of lukewarm water. While she washed, Cristof dug out her Cabisi clothes from a duffel bag.

  “You brought them with you?” she exclaimed, surprised.

  “I thought you might want them, once I found you.” He smiled at her pleasure and would have gotten her all dirty again if she hadn’t ordered him to wash himself off first. As it was, she didn’t change into her clean clothes for some time afterward.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Taya was half-asleep in front of Cristof’s tent, waiting for the water in his small metal teapot to boil, when she heard a familiar voice.

  “Icarus. Well met in time of war.”

  She spun around, catching Captain Amcathra with an expression on his face that she thought she’d never see— a small, relieved smile.

  “Captain!” She leaped up. His smile vanished as he endured her embrace with the long-suffering air of a man who’d learned to stop fighting the inevitable.

  “There you go again,” Cristof muttered, crawling out of the tent half-awake and giving them a quizzical look. “You’re the only man she hugs like that, Janos. Well, except me, of course. I don’t understand it.”

  “I do not, either,” Amcathra said, sounding pained. “Unless your wife has finally given up thrusting other women at me and has decided that we should become romantically involved, instead.”

  Taya released him with a startled gasp, then flushed as Cristof laughed.

  “You are not allowed to make jokes!” she ordered, pointing a finger at the poker-faced lictor. “And I am definitely not done thrusting women at you!”

  “I have no interest in the principessa, Icarus.”

  “Of course you don’t! And I didn’t thrust her at you, anyway.”

  “I believe it is called aiding and abetting.”

  “Don’t be silly. I just thought it would do you some good to practice being nice to women. Lady knows, you need the help.”

  “Not from where I’m sitting,” Cristof observed.

  “Cover your face while you’re outside,” Taya scolded, giving him a stern look before turning back to the captain. He had several scrapes and ripening bruises visible on his face and a bandage wrapped around his right hand. “Is your hand all right?”

  “It is a shallow wound. An ondium plate slipped while I was cutting it.”

  “Cris says you’re fixing the ornithopter?”

  “We are modifying it. The Firebrand will not be able to carry cannon anymore, but I believe it will bear five or six people back to the capital with reasonable speed.”

  “You’re done, then?” The teapot whistled and Cristof reached for the lid, then snatched his hand back with an oath.

  “I’ll get it.” Taya used one of her gloves as a kitchen mitt.

  “Dautry and I will take it on a test flight tomorrow.” Amcathra sat across from them. “You have not yet told me how it is that your wife has returned, Exalted. Were you and the kattaka successful?”

  “Huh? What makes you think we were looking for her?”

  “My many years of familiarity with your thought processes.”

  “You’re guessing, aren’t you?”

  Amcathra took the cup Taya handed him. “Thank you, Icarus.”

  “Don’t spill it,” she warned. “Alister rescued me.”

  Amcathra’s pale blue eyes widened, and he shot Cristof a suspicious look. Her husband raised a hand.

  “I had no idea my brother was here!”

  “He arrived with Lady Mazzoletti— it’s a long story,” she said. “I’ll probably tell it at the briefing— you’ll be there, won’t you?”

  “It is why I have returned.”

  “The short version is that Alister killed Patrice Corundel and rescued me. Florianne’s dead, and Alister was shot.” She indicated the area, looking at the lictor’s face for some reaction. “He was walking and talking, but his shirt was covered in blood and he said he was too tired to walk another hour back to camp, so he stayed in the mecharachnid to guard the tunnel instead.”

  Amcathra looked from her to Cristof.

  “It is difficult to gauge the severity of such a wound,” he said, answering their unspoken question. “If he was able to walk and talk, then he is probably not in any immediate danger. Infection is the most likely risk.”

  “We understand infection,” Cristof said flatly. Taya handed him a cup of tea.

  “May I ask why you left a blind man to guard the tunnel?”

  “I wanted to get Taya back to camp and warn Constante about the Alzanan advance. Alister volunteered to stay behind.”

  “I hope he does not shoot our troops.”

  “He won’t as long as they’re not speaking Alzanan.”

  “Would he recognize Cabisi?”

  “Jinian wouldn’t have anyone to talk to in Cabisi, anyway,” Cristof said, looking uncomfortable.

  “That is true.” The lictor sipped his tea and eyed the exalted over the top of the cup. “The kattaka told me you were planning to look for your wife.”

  “You’re welcome to call me Taya,” Taya interrupted, a little tartly. “I’m more than just his wife, you know.”

  “I apologize, Icarus.”

  She rolled her eyes.

  “Why in the world did Jinian tell you our plan?” Cristof looked nettled.

  “She knew what I would do if I found you missing. Or perhaps you thought I would travel to Ondinium by myself after you had vanished?”

  Cristof sighed.

  “If you had no way of knowing where I was, then yes, I assumed you’d proceed to Ondinium to take a report to Council.”

  “Clearly you have learned little from your many years of familiarity with my thought processes.”

  “I also left you a letter explaining what I was doing and asking you not to come after me.”

  “Asking or ordering?”

  “I prefer not to give you orders, Janos.”

  “I am pleased to hear that.” Amcathra gave him an impassive look. “As it was, I gave her a map and compass to ensure that you did not get lost.”

  “I’m surprised you didn’t try to stop us.”

  “I am satisfied with the kattaka’s combat ability and overall common sense.”

  “So,” Taya said innocently, nestling her cup of tea close to her chest, “is that the kind of woman you like?”

  “Icarus….” The lictor closed his eyes a moment, as if searching for internal restraint.
“There are many women whose talents I appreciate without any amorous undercurrents.”

  “Fine. What about Professor Dautry?”

  “She is in good health and has been instrumental in rebuilding the Firebrand.”

  That wasn’t quite what Taya had meant, and she had a feeling Amcathra knew it, but she let the moment go and became more serious.

  “Then tell me about the firefight, Captain. I was so sorry to hear that Lieutenant Imbrex didn’t make it….”

  * * *

  The last time Taya had been to a military briefing had been in Glasgar, during the initial Alzanan invasion. She looked around, half-hoping to see General Kammel at the table, but of course she wasn’t there. The general had died in the bombing, like almost every other lictor Taya had met there.

  Feeling solemn, she bowed to the lictor in charge of this meeting, Major Leppala, who instructed her to sit in the front. Cristof hung back with coat collar pulled high and his soot-stained, silver-and-blue Cabisi scarf wrapped over the lower half of his face.

  A few minutes later the decatur entered, masked and robed, with her long sleeves spilling over an icarus’s proffered arm. Everyone stood and bowed as she sat at the head of the table, her icarus efficiently straightening her robes and perching on a stool beside her, the decatur’s hand on his arm. Leppala introduced Decatur Constante and the icarus Keman, mostly for her benefit, Taya assumed.

  Keman was an older icarus with graying hair and a kind but careworn face. It was unusual for an icarus his age to still wear wings; most icarii retired early, grounded by the damage that years of long flights and hard landings wrought on their muscles and joints. His ease around Decatur Constante suggested that they’d worked together for a long time.

  Leppala nodded to one of the men sitting in the front with Taya.

  “Corporal Getha. Your report?”

  “Sir.” Getha stood and faced the group. “My team has just returned from investigating reports of an Alzanan incursion into the tunnels.” He drew their attention to the contour map on the table. Someone had drawn in A-O Terminal and the underground tunnels. He dropped a finger about halfway between their current camp and Terminal. “The tunnel has collapsed here.”

  Taya gasped.

  “We attempted to dig through, but the collapse is too extensive. I sent a fireteam around to the Epsilon door to recon from the outside and intercept our returning troops. The team hasn’t returned yet.”

  “What caused the collapse?” someone asked.

  “We think the Alzanans set off explosives to block our access to Terminal.”

  “Then they don’t know about the Epsilon door.”

  “No, sir.”

  “What—” Taya stopped and looked around. Nobody objected to her speaking, so she continued. “What about the mecharachnid that C—Exalted Forlore had been driving? Did you find it?”

  “No, ma’am. It was beyond the area of collapse.”

  She bit her lip. “Beyond it, or… or beneath it?”

  “We don’t know, ma’am. Our team will attempt to determine that during their reconnaissance.”

  Taya swallowed hard.

  A brief discussion followed concerning whether the troops stranded by the collapse would find the Epsilon door and whether it would be safe to use an augercar to clear the path again. Taya had nothing to contribute, her stomach filled with acid.

  Her report was next. Over the next hour, she told the group everything she could about the Alzanan camps and armaments and explained how she’d escaped with Alister Forlore. The shock and discomfort around the table was palpable as she described how the blind outcaste had killed Patrice Corundel to rescue her, and how he’d stayed behind in the mecharachnid to guard the tunnel. Nobody dared look at Cristof openly, but numerous sidelong glances were cast his way. To Taya’s relief, Decatur Constante, through Keman, was more interested in Corundel’s plans for the holocaust bomb and the Great Engine.

  At last Major Leppala thanked her and said they were done.

  “Just one last thing, if you please, Decatur,” Taya said, turning to Decatur Constante. “My impression of the colonel — Queen Pietra Agosti — was that she’s a reasonable woman who’s very concerned about her sister’s welfare. If you could arrange a meeting between her and Principessa Liliana, I think we might be able to work out an end to these hostilities.”

  The gray-haired icarus at the decatur’s side gave her a benevolent look.

  “The decatur thanks you for your suggestion, Icarus,” he said.

  Taya bowed to the masked exalted and sat. She knew the tap code didn’t allow for lengthy responses, so Keman’s brief reply didn’t mean the decatur was ignoring her suggestion.

  Captain Amcathra was the next to give his report. He briefly described the modifications his team had made to the ornithopter and confirmed that if the test run was successful, he’d take Exalted Forlore back to Ondinium to report their progress to the Oporphyr Council.

  “Are you going, too, Icarus?” Major Leppala asked, looking at Taya. “We could always use another set of wings on the line.”

  Taya hesitated. She didn’t want to leave Cristof’s side, but serving in times of emergency was an integral part of an icarus’s duties.

  “I’d like to escort Exalted Forlore back to the capital,” she said after a moment. “Once he’s safe, I’ll be happy to go wherever the Council sends me.”

  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Keman give her a brief, approving nod.

  “Then—” the major was interrupted by a commotion at the door. Everyone turned. Taya slipped away from the table to join her husband. Cristof was standing at the edge of the group, his gloved hands jammed into his coat pockets and his shoulders high. His expression was hidden by the scarf, but when she wrapped an arm around him, she felt the tension in his bearing.

  The officers around the table moved aside to let in a new group of lictors, several of them bandaged and limping. Taya held her breath until she saw a familiar face among them.

  “It’s Jinian!” She sighed with relief, then realized that Cristof was still searching the small group for a face that wasn’t there.

  “Sir.” One of the lictors saluted the major. He had an angry red streak across his face and blood matted his light brown hair. “Private Eret reporting, sir.”

  “Go on.”

  “Sir, we took two Alzanan prisoners.”

  The enemy soldiers were brought forward. They carried themselves with brave defiance, although both wilted a little when their eyes fell on the regal, ornately robed and masked figure of Decatur Constante and the stern icarus in full armature who stood beside her.

  “Take them away; we’ll question them later,” Major Leppala directed. Two lower-ranked lictors at the fringe of the gathering took the prisoners’ arms and marched them off.

  “Continue, Private.”

  Eret crisply described what Taya could only consider to be a failed mission— one mecharachnid and driver down, one missing in action, twelve lictors dead, and four wounded. The explosives team hadn’t been able to get close enough to the train or dirigible to blow either up, although it had managed to destroy the tracks. They’d retreated to the tunnels only to encounter a platoon of Alzanan soldiers fleeing through the entrance after a ceiling collapse. The two prisoners were what remained of that platoon.

  “From what we could figure out, sir, the Alzanans ran into Exalted Forlore’s mecharachnid and were driven back by its guns. I don’t know if it was the gunfire that collapsed the tunnel or an Alzanan bomb, but we didn’t see any sign of the vehicle or the exalted on the Terminal side of the tunnel.” The private swallowed. “Did… did he make it back?”

  Cristof’s knees collapsed. Taya grabbed his arms and the lictors around them burst into motion, one of them leaping off a chair and passing it back, the others jostling each other aside in an attemp
t to give the exalted more room. He sat heavily on the chair, leaning over. Taya interposed herself between him and the assembly.

  “The exalted’s brother was in the mecharachnid,” she told the private, who was looking confused. Her throat tightened. “He never came back.”

  The young lictor gave her a stricken look.

  “Excuse me.” Keman pushed through the crowd and lowered his voice as he reached Taya. “Let me help you get the exalted out of here.”

  They flanked Cristof, one icarus on each arm, and led him away from the table. When they reached his tent, he staggered inside and collapsed on the cot, yanking the scarf from his face.

  Keman stood outside, holding open the tent flap. “Tea or something stronger?”

  “Something stronger, I think,” Taya said, kneeling next to her husband. “Thank you.”

  “Take care of him,” he said gently, closing the flap. Taya pulled off her gloves and scarf and wrapped her arms around her husband, pulling him close.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  He nodded, holding her. Neither of them said anything else. Neither of them needed to.

  They had both grieved for Alister before.

  * * *

  Taya left Cristof asleep in the tent. Outside, the vast chamber was as dark as ever, although the noise level had fallen off. She checked her pocketwatch. Almost seven in the morning. She wearily ran her fingers through her hair.

  “Taya.”

  Jinian and Liliana were sitting cross-legged in front of the neighboring tent. They stood and hugged her, and Taya felt suddenly, fiercely grateful to have her two new friends with her again.

  “Do you want some tea?” Jinian asked as they settled back down again.

  “Yes, please.”

  They sat in silence until the tea was served.

  “How are you?” Taya asked at last, taking her cup.

  “I am well.” Jinian cocked her head. “I am sorry to hear about your husband’s brother.”