“Ship!” she said.
• • •
Having Oobii’s support was like stepping out of the dark. Tasks that would have otherwise taken Ravna hours or days could be done in minutes. Unfortunately, the most important things were still beyond her power.
The two enemy airships were heading steadily eastwards, not responding to the various radio methods that Nevil had been using. Both ships were at Ravna’s mercy, a fact that was worth exactly nothing.
The orbiter was not responding either. Maybe no surprise there. That was still Nevil’s special domain. Ravna did manage to talk with Scrupilo aboard Eyes Above, persuading him not to go chasing off after Tycoon.
Here on the ground the Children and their Best Friends swirled around her. They had shown remarkable patience with her these last few minutes, but now they were calling a thousand questions, crying—and crying for vengeance.
Ravna held her hands up. After a moment, the babble quieted. “Let the Deniers go back to their homes in Newcastle. Those are still their homes. They are almost half of the human race. We need them.”
Woodcarver boomed out: “I agree. No pack may harm them. But none of us should have to put up with Nevil anymore. Where is he, anyway?”
The question was put to everyone, but the answers were scattered and contradictory. Of course, this was one of the easier problems. Nevil might lurk out of Oobii’s direct sight, but his people were using radios. Sooner or later, Ravna would have a definite location for him. The current best guesses showed as a bright dot in Ravna’s HUD. Strange. “It looks like Nevil is heading out of town—” going northeast, toward the valley forest.
“Follow him!”
“We are.” Oobii is. Meantime—
• • •
They found Jefri behind the stage. Alive. Nevil’s people had left him hogtied in the mud. It was probably not deliberate that they had provided him with a forced view to the west. When Ravna showed up, Jef had been untied. He sat on the ground with his back to the timbers, staring into space. The front of his shirt was splattered with vomit. He didn’t seem to notice.
Several Children were on their knees, talking softly at him.
Ravna walked around in front of Jef, blocking his view downslope. “Jefri?” she said. “We think Johanna is still alive. We’ll get her back.”
Jef’s gaze came up to her face. She had never seen him so bleak, even in his deepest shame. After a moment his voice came low and hoarse. “We’ll do whatever we can? Yes, but…” but what good has that been so far? He staggered to his feet, helped by the kids around him. “The best I can do now is find what’s left of Amdi.” He would have stumbled away across the meadow if the others had not held him back.
There was no way they could keep Jefri from this search. There’s no way they can keep me away either. “We’ll all search,” she said.
• • •
It turned out that some Children and Best Friends had already taken the funicular partway to the water, then climbed down pilings to reach the cliff face. Now they were close to being stranded, their rescue operation in need of rescuing. Ravna and Woodcarver sent some of the older kids after them, with instructions not to get anybody killed.
There were safer ways down the cliff, and that was a proper reason for Ravna to come along. Oobii did not have a line of sight on the cliff face, but over the years, the area had been carefully surveyed. With her HUD, Ravna was probably a better scout leader than anyone.
Now they were moving from ledge to ledge, back and forth across the rock face. Before the funicular train, the trip from Hidden Island up to Newcastle had taken a good part of a day. The cliffs were a deadly attraction that over the years had maimed adventuresome packs and killed two Children. Today, the leaves of spring rose all around them, clothing the evergreens with extra softness, obscuring the teeth of stone.
“Here, take this,” said Woodcarver, passing a safety rope forward. The pack was mainly behind Ravna, but staying close. Nowadays, the Queen was young—maybe too young for this, with the two puppies—but she seemed to be having no problems. As she walked along, she was calling loudly to packs above her. In her own way, Woodcarver was coordinating operations, too.
Ravna took the safety line, passing the remaining loops forward to Øvin, the only human ahead of her in the party.
“Do you think there’s any chance that—” said Ravna, her voice low, for Woodcarver. Thank the Powers she had persuaded Jefri to stay with Magda and Elspa in the middle of the troop.
“—that any of Amdi survived?” Woodcarver finished the question. “I don’t see how. These springtime leaves are gossamer, and the evergreens beneath are like steel bars. But this … recovery is going to happen anyway.”
Ravna nodded. “We can make it safer.” For the next few minutes, she had no time for chitchat. Her head-up display was synched with her position. She could see through the trees to Oobii’s topo map—and guide Øvin Verring along the safest paths. At the same time, she had windows opened on other problems. Nevil’s people were making no attempt to mess with Oobii, but there was a plume of hot air rising from the Dome of First Landing. Ravna even had video from inside the castle! Apparently Nevil had diverted all the cameras into his spying—that was why she had only low-resolution information on the bodies’ trajectories. But she could snoop all around the castle. Bili or whoever had stuffed the Lander with flammables and lit it off. Woodcarver’s firefighters had already doused the fire, and she could see that the coldsleep caskets were unharmed.
Ravna pulled her attention back to the rocks ahead of her. “Øvin, don’t go down that way.” The higher ledge was narrow, but it became a real path a few meters further into the greenery.
“Okay.”
As Ravna sidled onto the ledge after him, a little red alert flag popped up in her HUD. Behind her, Woodcarver was talking loudly with unseen packs at the top of the cliffs. She translated for Ravna: “They say something’s happening at Newcastle town.”
“Yeah.” That red alert flag. As she followed along after Øvin, she accepted the alert: It was a view of the north road out of town. The Denier Children had returned to their houses after the debacle on the Meadows. Now they were on the move again—but not back to Murder Meadows or to Oobii. The ship counted seventy Children, including Bili and Merto, but not Nevil. The older ones had knapsacks or sling bags. There were a few wagons, but most were walking—out of town, toward the northeast. “You know, I think some of them are carrying guns,” exactly the human-style weapons Ravna had pictured for Nevil.
“My troops have many more guns,” said Woodcarver. “I could stop them. Does this look like a mass kidnapping?”
Ravna watched the scene for several seconds. “… No.”
“Then I suggest we let these people go. No civil war today.”
Ravna suddenly realized that while her attention had been on the other side of Starship Hill, she had walked along a ledge that had narrowed to thirty centimeters. Woodcarver was gently pulling her back from the edge. She came to a full stop and leaned against the sheer wall of the cliff face.
“You’re almost there, Ravna. Give me your hand.” She looked up and saw Øvin. He had reached the wider path that the topo map had promised. A second later she was standing beside him. She sat down for a moment and waited until the rest of their party came up. Woodcarver settled close around her. The new puppy was barely old enough to be a constructive member. It peeped out of a puppy pannier, whereas little Sht rode on an older member’s shoulders.
The Queen must have noticed her gaze. “The new puppy? It’s to balance Sht’s paranoid nature, a very old-fashioned bit of broodkennery. It was Pilgrim’s suggestion … and his last gift to me.” Woodcarver was silent for a moment, and then she spoke publicly loud: “I hear Scrupilo’s airboat.”
Ravna nodded. She had been following his progress via Oobii. “What’s become of his airship?” she asked.
“That’s a bit of history,” said Woodcarver, rolling her hea
ds. “Nevil’s all-human crew crashed EA2—on their very first solo flight. There were no casualties, but that put an end to long-range searching for you. Opinion is divided on whether the crash was a real accident or a Nevil accident.”
“Ah.”
Now the boat’s little electric motor was audible to human ears. It wasn’t visible through the spring leaves until it flew directly overhead. Then she had a naked-eye glimpse of it—and two of Scrupilo’s heads stuck over the gunwales, peering down. A year ago I was up there with Scrup, looking down, trying to track Nevil’s thieves—only we thought we were chasing Tropicals.
She relayed through Oobii: “Scrupilo, we’re at—” she sent her map position. “Poul Linden and the other team are on another path about fifty meters below us.” The other path was a safer walk, but it didn’t extend as far into the region where Oobii figured most of bodies had come down.
“I see Linden, but not you,” Scrupilo’s voice boomed down from the sky. He wasn’t bothering with radio.
“Okay. Do you see any sign of, of the bodies?”
Scrupilo was as grumpy blunt as ever. “The birds know. They’ve found three places to swarm. I’ve got a crappy little camera here; I’ll send Oobii pictures of what I’m seeing.” The video was already showing in Ravna’s windows.
Two of Woodcarver’s foresters came up from the ledge below, and then—Jefri wobbled along the path, staring upward and ignoring all of them. “Scrupilo!” Jef shouted. “How many bodies are we looking for?”
The pack responded: “Most people say eight, but some of the younger Children say seven with one holding onto a member-sized object.”
Jefri stood silent for a moment, still staring up. Then he started up the path, walking past Ravna. She came to her feet, reached out to stop him. For an instant, she thought Jef would shrug away. Then he was trembling in her arms.
“I can lead us there, Jefri. You’ll see all we see, but stay in the middle for now. Please?”
Magda and Elspa caught up with Jefri and softly encouraged him to let Ravna and Woodcarver go ahead.
As Ravna turned to follow Woodcarver, she heard a burst of angry Tinish. A single member came scrambling up from the lower ledge. “Ritl! What the devil…?”
The critter gave Ravna an imperious nod, emitting a chord that meant something like “You again” as it swept past.
Heida Øysler was next up from the ledge. She seemed to take Ravna’s question as directed at her. “Yeah, yeah. I’m sorry. We thought this was part of Tycoon. Hei, it was member-close to the guy, and wearing the same insignia. It even talks like a boss. So we grabbed it.” The kids coming up behind her looked a little shamefaced, too; maybe this had been a group effort. “Now it looks like we got someone’s ugly pet.”
Oh my, I don’t have time for this. “But why did you bring her here?”
Heida glared at the singleton. “Well, it wasn’t our choice.”
• • •
Scrupilo’s video was so low-resolution that it must have come from his own locally-made camera. However much he might call it crappy, Ravna bet the guy was vastly proud of the device. And when she had Oobii mesh them with the survey imagery … they were everything the recovery parties needed.
There were three towering swarms of birds. The pictures didn’t reveal what was on the ground beneath them, but Ravna’s topo map showed one of the sites was just ahead of Poul Linden’s group. Woodcarver shouted guidance down to Poul as Ravna’s group closed in on the highest projected impact point, one that the birds had not yet discovered. This spot might take some hard climbing, but for now Ravna and Øvin walked almost abreast of each other, with Woodcarver occasionally extending herself out between them.
As they walked, Ravna cycled through her task list: Nevil’s radios were motionless on the other side of Newcastle, under forest cover. Either he had discarded the devices, or he was waiting for “his people” to catch up with him. The Denier Children were visible on the north road, heading toward the valley forest, shadowed by Woodcarver troops. More wagons had joined the group. Several packs seemed to be guiding the caravan. Dekutomon and company? There was no avoiding the conclusion that this was a planned exodus. Nevil was either nuts or still playing a turn ahead of Ravna and Woodcarver.
Whatever Nevil’s strategy, it didn’t look like he would be rendezvousing with his main Tinish allies any time soon: Vendacious and Tycoon were still driving into the eastern sky, rising steadily as they approached the Icefangs. If they thought they were out of beam gun range, they were dead wrong. They would be visible to Oobii for hours more, unless they decided to play a risky game of hide-and-seek in the mountain valleys. Even now, Ravna could count the fasteners on Tycoon’s steam engine gondolas. A word from her and Oobii could flash-fry both airships.
Øvin interrupted her impotent daydreaming: “Hei! Where did this come from?” He was kneeling at the side of the path. Now he held up something bright and yellow.
Two of Woodcarver eeled forward for a close look. “A gold coin. Long Lakes mintage.”
Øvin turned it over a couple of times, hefting it. Like a number of Children, he had gone native to the extent of valuing heavy metals; gold and silver could be exchanged for things the starfolk couldn’t yet make. “When I was little, we used to hike around here a lot,” he said, glancing up at Ravna.
“All forgiven,” she said. Rascal.
Øvin smiled fleetingly. “The point is, we never saw anything like this. And if we had, we’d have snarfed it up.”
Woodcarver said, “Sigh. Maybe it’s not such a mystery. I’ll bet that after we got you and your friends off the cliffs, Vendacious and Nevil turned this into their private highway.”
Jefri walked past them, oblivious. Magda and Elspa tagged along behind him, scarcely pausing to glance at Øvin’s coin. These three knew what was important.
“C’mon,” Ravna said to the others.
“Hei up there! Are you seeing lots of gold coins?” The question came from some pack on Linden’s team.
“Just one,” Woodcarver boomed in reply.
“We just found a dozen, some on open rock, some wedged into the trees.”
The words set Jefri moving at a trot, barely slowed by Magda and Elspa’s cautions.
“I see yellow, too!” Scrupilo chimed in. “Hei, you on the high path! It’s just a little further on. The birds haven’t found it yet, but there are holes punched in the spring leaves—”
Jefri and company had disappeared around a corner of naked rock. When Ravna and the rest caught up, they found the three stopped, staring: not at a handful of gold coins, but at hundreds of coins and gems, a splash of gold and glitter that swept across the path. It lay in bright, direct sunlight. Indeed the Spring forest canopy had two wide tears in it. Where the light fell, greenish gloom was replaced by uncompromising detail. But Amdi, where are you? Like in the fairy tales, where the dying friend is turned to treasure?
Jefri scrambled up the rock, bracing his feet against tree trunks to lean against the steepness. He swept wildly at the branches. Gold coins scattered from around his hands, unheeded. “Where is he?” Jefri shouted. “Where—” He paused, steadied himself, and pulled. Something large and angular broke loose from where it had been jammed between rocks.
The wreckage bounced and crashed down to the path. It was—had been—a strongbox. Where it hadn’t splintered, the surface glistened with polish.
Ravna felt a touch on her shoulder. She turned. It was Øvin, grim and solemn. He jerked his head upwards. Ravna followed his gaze. Something dark and member-sized was caught in the higher branches. She noticed Ritl pacing beneath it, staring straight up. For once the critter was not spewing commentary.
Ravna swallowed. Then she looked at Jefri, still braced precariously between the cliff face and various tree trunks. “Please come down now, Jef.” She kept her tone even and comforting.
“We have to find him, Rav.”
“We will. I promise.” It took a force of will not to look
at the dark, still form that hid in the shadows just beyond Jef’s reach. “But you shouldn’t be way up there. It’s not safe. I want you to come down now.”
He stared back at her, his eyes wide. It was a look she hadn’t seen in years, from long before he had grown and gotten mixed up with the Deniers and betrayed her and rescued her. It was the little boy that Pham had rescued on Murder Meadows.
Jefri gave a sigh. “Okay,” he said and carefully came down to safety. No one spoke, but by the time Jefri reached the ground, almost everyone else had noticed the body in the trees.
• • •
The hardest part of getting the body down was keeping Jefri out of the way.
The body. Think of it as the body, the creature, the member—not as part of Amdiranifani. The creature was dead beyond doubt. The poor fellow had been impaled on one of the thornlike branches at the apex of the tree, where the evergreen needles didn’t grow. The accidental spear had passed through the length of the body, ending where the branch was almost fifteen centimeters wide.
As they began cutting down the body, Woodcarver shouted news of the discovery to Linden’s group.
“Okay!” came the reply. “We’re fighting off a mob of stubborn—yeowr!—seabirds. They’re swarming around something just ahead of us.”
Magda and Elspa were sitting with Jefri on the ground. They finally had him calmed down. Ravna leaned against a large boulder and sent all sorts of surely unnecessary detail back to Oobii. From Scrupilo’s video, the ship had already located seven bodies, all dead for a certainty, though this one and the one by Poul Linden might be the only members they could get to today. So I’ll be free to think on other things. But now her attention was stuck on the impaled body, all the other windows ignored.
One forester sawed at the tree as the other sailed restraining ropes around the upper branches. Ritl circled underneath, acting more like a real dog than Ravna had ever seen among Tines, even singletons. Ritl wasn’t saying much. She just looked curious and mystified and—for once—as stupid as she probably was. But the dogs Ravna remembered were plenty smart enough to realize when their betters were upset—and surely Ritl remembered Amdi. She had caused poor Amdiranifani enough problems. Ravna hoped the little beast couldn’t be hurt as much as Jefri and Amdi’s other friends.
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