Now they balanced on the railing, Keman supporting them, and hooked themselves together. Taya waited for Dautry’s nod and rolled off the rail.
The Firebrand hadn’t stopped perfectly over their target, but it had come close. Taya maintained a tight, spiraling descent, just as Keman had instructed. He would follow her down. The Alzanan guards were unlikely to spot two black-clad icarii dropping straight down from above, but it wasn’t impossible— speed and accuracy were paramount.
As they dropped lower, Taya adjusted her trajectory to approach the steeply peaked roof from the rear. As she got closer, she felt Dautry pull her feet loose and unsnap her rescue harness from the armature. Then Taya was skimming over the roof and Dautry released her, floating softly down to the building.
Taya tilted and circled. The next landing was hers. She kicked her legs out of the tailset and swung them forward, her boots hitting the spine of the roof with a thump that made her wince. She backbeat and shuffled her feet until she stabilized, one foot planted on either side of the roof’s ridge. She crouched lower, both wings spread horizontally for balance.
To the side, Dautry slid down the slope of the roof to the eave. The navigator’s greatest danger now was being blown away by a gust of wind as she maneuvered herself through a second-story window.
Taya locked her wings close to her body and slid her arms free, then kicked her tailset up out of the way. Keman landed several feet away with practiced ease, joining her moments later.
They waited. Dautry’s job was to get inside the building and make certain no guards were stationed by the colonel’s room. She was dressed as an Alzanan soldier, and if she ran into any trouble, she was armed with a needler loaded with a set of sedative-bearing needles, Corundel’s bottle of chloroform, and an Alzanan percussion pistol.
Earlier that day, back at the Ondinium camp, Dautry had tried on the Alzanan uniform with an introspective air.
“It seems I owe you an apology, Captain,” she had said at last, pinning up her long hair. Taya handed her the soldier’s cap and she tried it on. “I may have judged you too quickly when I condemned you for your undercover work.”
“If you are morally opposed to carrying out this mission, I am still willing to take your place,” Amcathra said, stiffly.
“No; it makes more sense for me to go, and it doesn’t hurt me to re-evaluate my opinions from time to time,” she said, turning. She shot a glance at Taya. “Besides, the exalted will need you safely on the Firebrand to take him home.”
“You have piloted numerous aerostats, and you have as thorough an understanding as I concerning the steps that will be necessary to keep the Firebrand aloft over the next few days. I believe you could get the exalted home in my absence.”
“But I don’t know anything about aerial combat—”
“I am offering you a choice, Dautry, so that you will not be obliged to compromise your principles on behalf of my nation.”
The professor tilted her head and considered him a moment. Taya held her breath.
“Thank you, Captain,” Dautry said at last. “However, I’m content to wear this uniform as long as the deception is restricted to my enemies. My friends and colleagues know that I’m not really an Alzanan soldier.”
Amcathra’s jaw tightened.
“As I am sure your friends and colleagues know that you are not sheytatangri,” she continued, turning away to inspect the Alzanan’s pistol. To Taya’s amusement, Amcathra had blinked, looking disconcerted.
Now Taya shifted, her knees aching. Snowflakes drifted out of the night sky, brushing her face. She wondered how Keman was holding up in the cold. She wondered what Dautry was doing inside the building. She felt completely helpless, standing outside and waiting. This must be what Cristof feels like when he’s left behind, she thought with a flash of empathy.
Hours seemed to pass before she heard the front door of the building open.
“Not shift time already, is it?” the sentry asked, his voice low.
“Could you come in here a moment?” Dautry asked, in impeccable Alzanan.
The sentry just had time for a puzzled “What—” before Taya heard the swift, sharp hiss of a needler.
A minute passed, and Dautry whispered an all-clear.
Keman and Taya dropped down from the roof and slid inside the open door. Dautry quietly closed and locked it behind them.
The front room was dimly lit by the embers of a fire. Three soldiers were unconscious around them, one of them half out of his sleeping roll. Dautry had pulled the door sentry inside and laid him on the floor as if he were sleeping. Taya checked them and gave Dautry a thumbs-up. They’d all been chloroformed or shot with sedated needles. None of them were dead.
Dautry, who was buckling her rescue harness back over her uniform, pointed to herself and the stairs. Keman nodded and pulled out a long knife that was a far cry from the short utility blade issued to courier icarii in Ondinium. They slid upstairs first and Taya followed. Unlike Keman, she’d chosen not to carry any weapons.
Four doors lined the short hallway, but light only glowed beneath one of them. Dautry and Keman pressed to the wall on either side and Keman reached for the door handle.
Dautry nodded.
The gray-haired icarus threw the door open and Dautry hurled herself around the corner just as a shot fired from inside the room. Keman dashed in after her and Taya followed with a prayer on her lips.
Colonel Agosti stood behind her desk, her gun aimed at Dautry’s head. Dautry’s needle gun, in turn, was aimed at the colonel’s heart.
“Wait!” Taya exclaimed in Alzanan. “This isn’t what it seems!”
“You mean it’s not another assassination attempt?” The colonel sounded calm, despite her predicament. “Decided to pick off the rest of the Family, did you?”
“No.” She reached into her flight suit and withdrew Liliana’s letter, holding it out. “This is from your sister. She’s waiting for you just a few minutes away. She wants to talk.”
“Taya….” Keman’s voice was low. “Somebody might have heard that shot.”
“Read it.” Taya thrust the letter toward the colonel.
“Liliana’s your prisoner?”
“She’s our guest. She fled with us from Fosca Mazzoletti.” Taya stepped closer, still offering the letter. “We want to take you to her. Please— let’s end this war before anyone else has to die.”
“Ending a war isn’t that easy,” Agosti said, but she lowered the gun.
“Please,” Taya repeated. “Read it.”
Agosti plucked the letter from her hand and shook it open one-handed. Her expression grew even more grim as she read her sister’s words. She looked up.
“Why didn’t you bring Lil here, to the office?”
“We couldn’t take the chance that she’d fall into Lady Mazzoletti’s hands.”
“Mazzoletti isn’t in camp anymore.”
“Scrap! Is she on the Formidable?”
The colonel raised her eyebrows.
“Does she have the holocaust bomb?” Taya pressed, certain she knew the answer.
Agosti looked away, mutely confirming her fears.
“What do you intend to do now?” the colonel inquired.
“Come with us,” Taya urged, feeling sick to her stomach. “Talk to Liliana and help us stop the Formidable before it reaches Ondinium.”
“You want me to go with you?”
“Unless you have some means of signaling the Formidable from here.”
“Do I get to bring my guards?”
“No. I’m sorry, but— no. We can only carry one.”
Agosti gave her a bitter, knowing smile. “In other words, you want me to voluntarily hand myself over to my enemy.”
Dautry promptly shot her in the shoulder.
“Professor!” Taya watched, horrified,
as the colonel staggered back, tried to raise her pistol, and then collapsed. Dautry holstered the gun and knelt next to the woman.
“Let’s go,” she said, pulling out the drug-coated needles. Keman unhooked the rescue harness from his armature.
“What are you doing?” Taya demanded. “She’ll never trust us now!”
“I agree with Captain Amcathra and your decatur that Queen Agosti is safer with us than in camp,” Dautry said, helping Keman buckle the colonel into the harness. “This way Princess Liliana will have another chance to convince her to end the war. By the way, don’t leave her letter behind.”
Taya picked up the fallen sheet of paper, aghast at what they were doing. Keman stood, hoisting the counterweighted colonel over one shoulder.
Someone knocked on the front door downstairs and all three froze.
“Scrap.” Taya ran to the window facing the back of the building and threw it open. “You’ll have to squeeze through, Keman.”
“I can’t.”
“Yes, you can. You go through first, and I’ll hand the colonel through.”
He swore and threw a leg over the sill. Sliding his arms into his wings, he unlocked them and twisted them through the opening one at a time. His armature creaked as he freed one arm and wrenched himself outside, leaving gouges in the windowsill.
Dautry jammed the colonel’s pistol into her waistband and turned toward the office door, covering it with the needler.
Keman hung outside the window, his boots on the sill and his free hand holding the window frame. Taya hauled the nearly weightless colonel forward and buckled her harness to Keman’s armature. It wouldn’t be easy for him to fly with Agosti dangling motionless in the harness, even if her weight was almost zeroed out.
“Ready?” she asked. “I’ll brace you from inside.”
“Don’t get captured again,” he said, twisting around. She grabbed the back of his armature and held him in place as he slid his free arm into its wing. “Your husband would kill me.”
“I’ll be right behind you. Hurry!”
“On the count of three.”
Shouts sounded from below. The unconscious soldiers had been found.
“One— two— three.” Taya released him and Keman sprang from the windowsill, beating fast to keep himself aloft. As soon as he rose over the building across the alley, she began squirming through the window, herself.
“Dautry! Meet me on the roof!”
“I will!”
Taya winced as her wings scraped against the sill. Without anyone to hold her armature for her, she straddled the window and insinuated her arms into her wings. Furniture scraped. She glanced over her shoulder. Dautry was shoving the colonel’s desk against the doorway.
“Professor! Come on!”
“As soon as you’re out of my way!”
Swearing under her breath, Taya jammed her feet against the sill. This wasn’t going to be even close to graceful, but at least she didn’t have an unconscious body to carry. She kicked off, arms spread wide, and flapped like a dying duck. At last she cupped air and rose, overshooting the roof. She kicked down her tailset and circled. Soldiers carrying lanterns and guns were converging on the colonel’s barracks.
Someone shouted and fired. Taya circled, uncertain whether they were firing at her, Keman, or shadows. Then Dautry clambered over the eaves. Taya made a wide circle, came in low, and flew directly at the roof.
As she passed over Dautry’s head, the navigator’s hands locked onto the struts of her armature. Taya swept them both into the air, hearing more gunfire. Bullets whined past, too close for comfort. Dautry awkwardly snapped her harness to Taya’s armature, chest-to-chest, and hooked her legs over Taya’s. Taya struggled upward, searching for the Firebrand through flight goggles that were quickly caked with snow. She gave her head a sharp shake, dislodging some of it, and adjusted her position. If the Firebrand hadn’t drifted too far off, she should—
A glimmer of light broke the darkness. She angled toward it.
“Professor! Ready to drop?”
“One minute!” The professor fumbled with the hooks.
Taya swept over the ship, circled, and returned. As she glided past a second time, Dautry dropped backwards into Amcathra’s and Lucanus’s waiting arms. Taya circled one more time and came in for her own landing.
Her boots hit the snow-covered, metal-plated deck and slipped out from under her. She threw out her wing-covered arms to steady herself, cracking Lucanus across the head. Captain Amcathra ducked beneath her sweeping metal feathers and grabbed uselessly for her armature as she slid into Cristof. They went down in an awkward pile with her on top.
“Sorry! I’m sorry!” she exclaimed, holding her arms over her head to keep her wings out of the way.
“Are you all right?” Cristof grabbed her armature to steady her.
“Ouch. Yes. No.” She winced as something pointed dug into her rear. “I may have broken my tailset.”
“Literally or metaphorically?” he asked, gazing owlishly at her through glasses that had been knocked askew. She stared at him a moment and then laughed.
Behind them, Lucanus gingerly rubbed his forehead and moved forward to help.
“If you two would take a moment to untangle yourselves, we would be in a significantly better position to assess any damage, literal or not,” Captain Amcathra said, straightening from his crouch. He gave Dautry a quick, assessing look. “You are well.”
“Yes, Captain.” Dautry was already helping Keman unhook the colonel’s harness. “I’m sorry, Liliana, but your sister refused to accompany us.”
“You shot her!” Liliana gasped, running forward to support her sister’s head as Keman lowered her to the floor. She pushed open Agosti’s coat to inspect the needle wound. “How could you? She was supposed to make up her own mind!”
Dautry and Amcathra exchanged a look, and Taya suddenly wondered if they had planned the colonel’s abduction beforehand.
“Mazzoletti’s on the Formidable,” the professor continued, briskly. “Agosti wouldn’t confirm that the holocaust bomb is aboard, but I think we need to assume that Mazzoletti is carrying out her plan to blow up the Engine.”
Cristof swore. Keman muttered something under his breath as he adjusted his armature.
“Your sister may be the only one who can help us avert a disaster,” Dautry added, looking at Liliana. The principessa glared at her, then turned a dark look on Cristof.
“So now we’re both your hostages.”
“Principessa Agosti,” Keman said sternly, before Cristof could reply. “Now you are both safe from the rebel Families who killed your grandfather and in the perfect position to end this treacherously engineered war. Captain, I assume you will attempt to overtake the Formidable. Exalted, do you wish to return to camp or travel with the ship?”
“I’ll remain with the Firebrand,” Cristof said firmly. “Janos needs another engineer. We’ll also require Colonel Agosti’s assistance to stop the Formidable. Liliana, do you want to be dropped off at camp?”
“I’m staying with Pietra!”
“Very well,” Keman said. “Ambassador, the decatur will expect you to work with Colonel Agosti to end this war.”
“I’ll do my best.” Cristof turned to Liliana. “And neither of you is a hostage.”
The girl stubbornly set her jaw, still clutching her sister.
“Icarus, Kattaka, take the Agostis below,” Amcathra snapped, cutting through the moment of tension. “Exalted, would you please secure our weapons against the colonel’s awakening? Sergeant Lucanus, stoke the engine. Dautry, plot the fastest course to the capital.” The lictor looked toward the horizon, his eyes narrowed. “We cannot afford to waste any more time.”
* * *
The Firebrand had been grievously damaged in its fight across the Alzanan-Ondinium border, and the modi
fications needed to get it back into the air had been ruthless. Captain Amcathra, Professor Dautry, and the army engineers had stripped away the entire lower gun deck, the ship’s hold, and the ballast tanks. They’d reinforced the berth deck with salvaged wood and covered it with the gun deck’s ondium plating, its etching no longer creating an elegant design that flowed across the hull. The Firebrand’s stern had been so badly damaged that they’d shortened the entire vessel by five feet and jury-rigged a set of controls for the dorsal fins and a new rudder connected to the primary helm. The secondary helm and the volley guns had been removed. The ship’s old broken wings had been cut down into shorter, lighter wings, and the smaller steam engine that now controlled them had been secured over the blasted remains of the old one.
Down below, the berth deck had been stripped to its bare wooden bones, an open space that stretched from port to starboard and stem to stern. It contained bedrolls, casks of water and bags of bread, cheese, and sausage, a crate of tools, and several racks of weapons— rifles, bombs, ondium-tipped missiles, and ammunition. The boiler stood to one side of the long window where the mess hall used to be, and a very large bin of coke had been set up next to it, along with several shovels.
The Firebrand had been transformed from a proud war vessel to a stunted cargo ship, but it still flew.
They were three days from Ondinium’s capital and one day behind the Formidable. By necessity, everyone but the two Alzanans took turns stoking the engine, oiling the wings, running the helm, and checking their course. The makeshift crew snatched food and naps whenever they could, driving themselves to keep the ship moving day and night.
Liliana stayed with her sister until she awoke. Colonel Agosti was coldly furious at her kidnapping, and her mood didn’t change even after a long talk with her sister.
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