Blade Dancer

by K. M. Tolan

  Jakar turned around. “Mikial,” he acknowledged.

  Frowning, Mikial watched the other officers, Commander Keel among them, leave with Yora. She faced her father across the emptied room. An awkwardness settled between them. “Am I in trouble again?"

  Jakar's mustache pulled back in a rare smile. “No, you're not in trouble."

  Walking beside him, Mikial looked down at the model. Miniature brick walls surrounded a seaside town crafted from hardened brown clay, watchtowers interspersed along its length. Tiny shops and homes sat along cobblestone streets that encircled a second set of battlements. A wide avenue led from piers along the shore to a pair of gates within the inner walls. Inside the second ring rose what appeared to be a grim-looking palace. Consisting of four floors, it was essentially two wide hexagonal towers merged together.

  “This is the town of Keper, which is on a peninsula off Minnera's northern coastline,” her father explained. “That is Manwal Kinn's summer palace you are looking at. Ryan has been most helpful in supplying details."

  “The Minnerans will be looking for a new owner, then,” Mikial said, inspecting what apparently was a barracks inside of the palace wall near its gates. She looked at Jakar. “This is where the humans are?"

  He nodded. “Manwal's death should leave the humans'

  jailers disorganized and in low morale. I intend to exploit that situation.” Reaching over to the sea-front, Jakar lifted off a section of opaque glass between two piers. “You'll find this of interest.” Beneath the glass sat what appeared to be a fat silver bullet with its top surface flattened out. The object was almost three times longer then the docks between which it lay submerged. Mikial guessed its scale equated to almost a hundred spans.

  “This represents the ship the humans came in,” Jakar continued. “There's a tunnel leading back into Keper.” He tapped at an unassuming little building adjacent the inner portion of the city wall near the wharves. “I am told this shed is lightly guarded so as not to arouse curiosity.” Jakar gave Mikial a quick look. “We will need Ryan to get inside the ship. For that, we will require his trust."

  “Which means me,” she said. “We're going to free them, aren't we?"

  “No. The ship will be destroyed, along with its crew.” Her father set the glass back over the ship model and faced her with a dark expression. “We can't have them making other alliances. Nor do we dare let them return home to bring more of their kind here.” He put a heavy hand on her shoulder. “I know Ryan saved your life, daughter. Do you think it would be a kindness to spare his in light of this?"

  “No,” Mikial replied, her voice dropping to a murmur as shock rippled through her. “To be imprisoned and poked at by the Shandi for the rest of his life, no.” She sucked in a breath. They had lied to Ryan all along. “If his people come here, what then?"

  “This has been discussed with all of the Eight Holdings, Mikial. These creatures have been marooned for just over a year. The Cothra have used their most powerful sky glasses, and haven't seen any of these beacons he talked to you about.” Jakar gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “There's no one looking for these humans."

  Mikial felt it happen again. Once more, there was an almost physical presence, like when she stared down at Corias’ body. A thousand eyes peering through the doors. She could not help but glance back even though she already knew better.

  “Mikial?"

  “Nothing,” she hastily spoke, drawing in a breath as the sensation vanished. “What are my orders?"

  “Just continue to convince Ryan that this is a rescue operation until we get in that ship. Yora will command this raid. She will be leaving with your Strike in three days.” Jakar opened up the inside pocket of his black coat. “Principal Jia has asked me to give this to you.” He pulled out a white envelope and handed it to Mikial. “You are not to open it until you reach Tessana.” He shrugged. “Her orders, not mine. She gave me a similar note, that I am not to read until your return."

  “Stupid Ipper games,” Mikial muttered, stuffing the envelope into the red-trimmed side pocket of her uniform. The last thing she cared about now was Jia Yeffer trying to be clever.

  Her father let out a slow breath, his brow wrinkling in distaste. “I know what I'm asking of you. These are ugly times for all of us, daughter."

  “So were the times just before Min Saja,” she replied.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  * * *

  Eighteen

  “Let me try to understand this,” Ryan Donald said, leaning his short stocky body against the trunk of an ironwood tree. His words came in frosty puffs. “Nasty looks aside, you never spoke three sentences to me all during the combat exercises back at your Holding. Now, suddenly, you want to talk. What miracle brought this on?"

  Mikial tried to hold on to both her resolve and temper. She stared over the close-cropped hair on Ryan's head. Six gray airships were moored in the chilly darkness beside Tessana's Meadow Lake. It reminded her of fish gathering in a streambed. They had been there for three days, while the Ipper waited for the weather to turn favorable over Keper.

  Principal Jia's note was crumpled in her left hand. The message was a simple one. The only solution Mikial could think of was not so simple. No, the Cothra were unable to find Ryan's beacons. That was because they were looking for them ... not listening. The Ipper had found the beacons instead. Now Jia apparently expected her to do something about it. Just her.

  Mikial regarded Ryan with his rounded ears and feral scent. “I've never been to Tessana before. It's beautiful up here."

  He waved a hand in resignation. “Fine, Mikial. The place is a real resort. Is that what you brought me up this hill to tell me?"

  Her amber eyes narrowed. “What would your kind do with this land if they found Dessa?"

  “Would we invade it, you mean?” He picked a leaf from an overhanging limb. “It's just like I told you in Minnera. We don't want a place where we'd be popping little blue pills just to stay alive. There's too much radiation coming from that Curtain of yours.” Ryan thumped at his chest. “In fact, I want to forget this place ever existed! The first thing I'll do after we launch is wipe the ship's memory, so nobody could find Dessa if they tried. I'll also destroy the beacons. Does that help?"

  “If I could trust you that far,” she growled.

  Ryan gave her a frustrated look “Trust us? Mikial, we could show you things your Cothra couldn't even imagine. Weapons your Datha could take this whole planet with, and medicines that would put your precious Shandi out of the drug business. Are you so sure you want us to disappear?"

  “You couldn't have convinced me more than with that offer,” she hissed. Mikial filled her nostrils with the cool scent of high mountains and green valleys. This is not where this conversation is supposed to be heading. Shaking her head, Mikial gave a low moan, dreading more what she was about to do to her family's honor, than to herself.

  Frowning, Ryan put a steadying hand on her shoulder. “What's going on?"

  Her throat closed against words she would murder herself with. Snarling, Mikial jerked away.

  Ryan seemed to look straight through her when he spoke. “They're going to kill us all, aren't they? Those green satchels I saw being loaded. Explosives for the ship, yes?” His lips thinned. “Yes?"

  Miserably, she nodded.

  Ryan looked down with disgust. “All so you can crawl back in your holes and pretend nothing happened.” He gave her a withering look. “It doesn't work like that. My people will find those beacons, Mikial."

  “I know!” she spat, making him jump back. Mikial tore up Jia's note and threw it on the ground. Lips trembling, she fought the urge to do the same to Ryan. “You deserve to die! You deserve everything but my help!"

  “Just get me to my ship ahead of the rest,” Ryan slowly said, keeping his eyes on her. “That's all you have to do, Mikial."

  She shook her head. “No, Ryan. That's not all I have to do.” Mikial glanced down at her pistols. “You have
something like these on board?"

  He nodded. “Where I can get to them, but I hope we can avoid that sort of thing."

  “Then you kill me once we're inside.” Mikial bared her teeth to cut off Ryan's protest. “My mother will know I died in combat, and my father will keep his pride. Paleen can keep her head raised because of our friendship, not slink away.” She seized him by his camouflage collar and pulled him up on his toes. “Otherwise, I'll rip you with these claws, and let your last sight be watching me set the charges among your crew myself!"

  “You made your point,” he grated, as she released him.

  Ryan brushed at his uniform, the temper fading from his eyes. His voice quieted. “I won't take your honor away from you, if that's what you want. I might even be able to free my people without harming yours. We'll just have to see how it works out.” Ryan looked down the slope at a bobbing lantern. A diminutive Ipper approached, wearing the olive armor of a Combat Signaler.

  It was Paleen, who favored Ryan with a hiss, affording the human a wide birth as Ryan walked past her down the hill. She glared at Mikial. “How can you tolerate that thing?"

  “He saved my life, remember?” Mikial growled with disapproval, souring on the irony of her words. “Right now I'm having more trouble with you. What possessed you to volunteer for this raid?"

  “The need to keep you out of trouble again!” Her hazel eyes narrowed. “As you said, Ryan saved your life. I know you too well, Mikial. You want to repay another debt.” Her ear fans rose like needles. “I'll not let you ruin your own future like that! Especially after the Tasuria gave you a second chance. That's more luck than my mother had, thanks to that creature you befriended."

  “Stop acting like your mother's dead, Paleen! She'll see out of new eyes by the time you get back.” Mikial scowled, hating what Paleen was twisting into. If anyone needed to go to White Canyon after this, it was her. “If you so much as bare your teeth in his direction, you'll see what disobedience under combat earns you.” Mikial glared down at her friend. “Is that all you came up here to report, Signaler?"

  Paleen stiffened. “There's a cold front approaching Keper. We're about to leave and meet it before the fog lifts."

  Mikial nodded. “Nothing else? Since I'm reporting to White Canyon after this, I'd have thought they'd be trying to reach me."

  “Nobody wants to talk to you right now.” Paleen pivoted on her heel and headed back down. “Or me either, for that matter."

  * * * *

  The High Strike left within the chime. The climate and altitude changes gave Mikial a headache. A fine start to the mission. Sitting in a crowded cabin in both a parachute and armor for seven chimes, only compounded it. Especially with Paleen trading glares across the bench at both her and Ryan.

  “One last time,” Parva shouted down the seated ranks, his snowy hair covered by one of the new helmets. “We will be the first to jump. The street along the walls is just as wide as some of the trails we have landed on, so I'll have the ears of anyone clumsy enough to end up on a roof.” Walking between the benches, Parva clapped a hand on Mikial's shoulder. “Gunners, immediately bring fire on those watchtowers. We need to get their attention away from the remaining Strikes landing behind us.” He grinned down at her. “Our favorite Dathia will get to see if her new cannon barrel stays on."

  Parva walked back up the benches amid coarse laughter. “This Strike will secure the escape route for Yora and the remaining Strikes after they free the prisoners. We will then proceed to the tunnel."

  “It would help if you give me a weapon,” Ryan suggested.

  “That would only encourage you to get yourself shot,” Parva replied, shaking his head. “Your job is to open up that ship and prepare it to leave. If we're fortunate, you and your crew will be off Dessa, and we will have withdrawn to the west for pickup by Tessana's airships."

  Mikial glanced at Ryan, hating the way Parva was forced to carry on the deception. Ryan played along with equal deceit. His face practically glowed with trust and confidence. Sighing, Mikial rested her head against the bulkhead. Why did the last few chimes of her life have to include a pounding headache?

  Time crawled by, the increasingly stuffy cabin making her head complain all the more. The first traces of dawn chased the Curtain's mauve star mists from the sky. Peering through one of the small portholes in the cabin, Mikial was dismayed to see no trace of the promised fog. Easing her concern, Parva pointed out a thick layer of low clouds behind an approaching range of hills. Within two chimes, the flotilla of airships drifted over them.

  “Up on line,” Parva ordered with his casual smile as their airship skirted granite crags that guarded the valley within. “Stand ready!"

  Standing, Mikial inspected Ryan's chute pack. “Secured!” she acknowledged as her new Line Officer tugged at her cannon harness. She missed the smell of Cort's corul roots. Mikial traded looks with Paleen as the Ipper's chute was checked. The hard look on Paleen's small face was not from anyone Mikial knew. Perhaps it was just as well. Mikial closed her eyes, searching fruitlessly for an inner moment of peace. A traitor's price, another part of herself spat scornfully.

  Mikial gave a long low sigh. The sooner they got out of this flying hot box, the better. Tightening her helmet, she felt the dirigible begin its final turns, guided by Ipper from Tessana who had already crept close to the city walls. Mikial fished her goggles from their side pocket. Hopefully these ramp doors would open before the overworked heaters melted her. Mikial slid on her goggles and glanced back at Ryan. “Stay close."

  “I'll try not to land on your back,” he smirked, showing little outward sign of the desperation he no doubt felt.

  Staring out the window, Mikial looked down at a vast blanket of clouds, puffy layers painted in the bright colors of an early sun. Their airship maneuvered once more, the large fans slowing until the propellers rotated in lazy circles. The dirigible with their companion Strikes swung in behind them, the crimson wheel-and-dagger insignia of her sect emblazoned on its rudder. Beside her, Ryan hummed some sort of tune while his fingers tapped on his harness.

  “Brace!” Parva ordered.

  The ramp doors swung up, letting in a brisk wind that washed the oppressive heat away. Mikial sucked in the rarefied air with relief as she gripped the brass rail above her. It was as if no city existed below them. Just the clouds. The bulbous nose of the Shandi airship lined up behind the second dirigible. Immediate Teams would jump once Yora had secured their drop zone. It was the most harrowing operation Mikial had yet seen the Shandi embark on.

  Ryan muttered to himself, but it was in his own incomprehensible language.

  “Jump!"

  “Open your chute early and you'll have me diving through it!” Mikial warned her charge, as they ran forward.

  “You'd like that, wouldn't you!” Ryan shot back, further words lost in the windy roar as they leapt.

  The overcast they jumped through during exercises was a light mist compared to the white mass rising toward them. Arms and legs spread into the blast of air, Mikial saw the first jumpers plunge into the clouds beneath her. She kept to her mental count through the fall, trying not to think of towers and weather vanes. Ryan's body vanished into the whiteness below her. Then it was her turn to be enwrapped in the clammy nothingness.

  Three breaths from release. Mikial saw only the heavy grayness through which she rushed. Two breaths ... there! Blue shadows took on geometric form below. One breath. She pulled the lanyard. Olive cloth exploded outward with a sharp crack that jerked at her harness. That tower! Mikial pulled hard at her control cords. A conical red-tiled roof tilted out of her path as Mikial aimed for the street beside it. It guarded the entranceway to the wharves, so she was already close to the tunnel. Mikial slipped by the observation windows on the top floor. Inside, a repeater cannon aimed away from the city. Someone's legs were propped up on a bench, oblivious to the armored blossoms descending around him.

  Absorbing the impact of the cobblestone street inside
the walls, Mikial shed her harness and freed Dalen's new cannon from its straps. Her eyes picked up Ryan's signature through the murk. She finally caught sight of him crouched down in an alley, well away from her first target. No doubt he was wondering when they would head for the ship. Best stick with the initial plan, Mikial cautioned herself. The confusion that would result would be enough to cover her abandoning her Strike. Other phantom shapes dropped through the mist. Surprisingly, there was not one sound of gunfire to pierce the eerie silence. She dashed for a shop across the street, intent on remedying that matter.

  Mikial forced open a door decorated with ornate wire-frame windows and almost collided with a tiny girl in a white morning dress. The dark-haired child stumbled back with a shriek, a milk jug slipping from her hands to shatter on the floor.

  Whirling, Mikial ignored her cries. She dropped to her belly and set up the cannon bipod. “Don't disappoint me, Dalen,” she growled. She took aim across the street at the gray silhouette of the nearest watchtower. Something banged against her helmet. Turning, she saw the little girl struggling to lift another flowerpot over her head.

  “Get her back or you're both dead!” Mikial roared at a female who rushed out of another door. Fortunately for the Minneran, she was unarmed. Dismissing both of them in the moments she had to perform her work, Mikial flicked the cannon tabs into firing position. She discharged into the handle grips.

  Shop windows blew out with the force of the blast, the fog flashing white outside. At the same moment, another moment of brilliance heralded the thunder from Parva's other gunner.

  Glancing back, Mikial saw that neither of the Minneran females was still in the shop, which was just as well. The floor was littered with glass and pottery shards. Keeping her senses alert in case other family members showed themselves, Mikial lurched to her feet and returned to the street out front. She fought a swirl of weakness she had not expected from the first discharge. Too late to complain to Dalen.