The trees of the wood changed first, shading into golden hallerwoods as they entered the northern climes. They passed over one of the minor tributaries to the Orn, and the land below became more varied, long foothills extending from the mountain toward the east. A smell like cinnamon was strong in the air.
Along the way they talked, filling in the time they’d been apart.
“What was it like, living among the landers?” Robyn asked, her arms beating tirelessly, though she must have been fatigued. The bi-wings required different muscles than skythane wings.
Quince frowned. “They’re just people, like us.” She thought about it, about her time in Oberon City. “It was… I don’t know… confining is probably the best word? They spend so much time indoors, and when they’re not inside, they are mostly stuck on the ground.” She gestured at the land below them. “I learned to be like them. To access their systems. I spent most of my life inside, behind a desk.”
Robyn snorted. “I find that hard to believe.”
“It’s true. Sometimes I would get out of the city, though. With Xander…. Davyn.”
“Xander is fine. He seems to have forgotten his old name, so I suppose Xander is as good a new one as any.”
Quince nodded. “With Xander and Alix,” she clarified.
“How did they meet?”
Quince sighed. She’d never told Robyn the full story. In part because she’d considered it dangerous to put such information in writing, but she had also been too chicken-shit to do it. “I lost Xander for a time.”
“I remember. You said he was adopted.”
“Well, yes. No. Not exactly.” She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. The warmth of the sun felt so good on her wings. Maybe she could delay just a moment or two longer—
“I know that look.”
Quince’s eyes sprang open.
“There’s something you’re not telling me.” Her eyes were narrowed. Robyn knew her too well.
“Okay. You have a right to know.” She sighed. “When Xander was about eleven years old, his parents were killed by a thief in the Slander. Before I knew it, he was gone, taken in by one of the Syndicate bosses. A man named Rogan.” She glanced over at Robyn. The queen was silent, her lips pressed into a thin line.
Quince went on. “Rogan… he’s the kind of man who likes boys. Likes to… likes to use them.”
“What did he do to my son?” Robyn’s voice took on a dangerous edge.
“Things I won’t talk about. Even now. He can tell you, when you see him again. If he wants to.” She pursed her lips, thinking about Rogan and the way he’d treated Xander. “Things he’ll pay for, when the time comes.”
Robyn was silent for a long time.
Quince couldn’t imagine getting that kind of news about her own child. Well, maybe she could. Xander had been like a son to her too, especially after she’d fled Titania with the boys. It had nearly killed her.
“Did Alix work for him? For Rogan?” Robyn asked at last.
“No, nothing like that. Alix ran into Xander once, on the street. Something about Xander stuck in his mind. He tracked the boy down and bought out his contract from Rogan. Bought him his freedom.” She didn’t mention the electrical charge Rogan had inserted into Xander’s head to insure the boy’s compliance. Enough was enough, for now.
“Why didn’t you save him? Find him? Prevent the whole thing from happening?” Robyn’s question caught her off guard, though in truth she had asked it of herself often enough.
“I—”
“What were you so busy doing while he suffered? Enjoying lander culture? Sleeping with lander women?”
Quince closed her eyes again, unwilling or unable to look Robyn in the eye. “I failed him.” It was a whisper.
“Yes. You did.” Robyn surged ahead, and Quince let her go. She was angry, and she had every right to be.
Quince had never told anyone the real reason she’d never gone after Xander. She’d thought he was dead, too, killed with his adoptive parents. She’d gone on a two-year binge of sex and alcohol and pith abuse. She’d wallowed in the depths of her shame, blaming herself for losing Xander.
When she’d found out that he still lived, that he had suffered those years of abuse and pain because she’d never gone to find him, she’d felt even worse.
It was the secret shame she’d live with for the rest of her life.
Yes, Robyn had the right to be angry, and she only knew half the story.
JAMESON WATCHED as the waygate shrunk to the size of a pebble and disappeared. He sighed and put away the key, making sure it was snuggled tightly in the bottom of his carry sack.
His troubles with Xander would have to wait. They had work to do.
Jameson stood and pulled the carry sack onto his back and looked around for the first time at the place they’d landed. He was immediately filled with memory vertigo. Images flocked past him, making him unsteady as the barrage took its toll.
“Breathe,” someone said, and a warm hand supported his back. Alix.
Jameson closed his eyes and concentrated on his respiration. In and out. In and out. He focused on the memories, each in turn, and they began to slow.
One was a child running across the sand to the warm waters of the sea.
In another, she lay on the beach, looking down at her lover, a woman with blonde hair and golden wings.
A third featured a young skythane man with a spear, scanning the azure waters of the Argent Sea.
He sorted through each one, letting them wash over him and dissipate like waves on the sand, and then they were gone.
“You okay?”
“I think so.” He opened his eyes. “It was easier, that time.”
Venin nodded. “Listen to this one. He knows what he’s doing.”
Alix shrugged. “Just part of my training.” He turned away, scanning the sea and the land around them.
Jameson was starting to understand why Xander had been drawn to Alix. “Thank you.”
He wondered how far the memories went back, how much information he could access if he just learned to control it. How it might change him. Jameson shook his head to dispel the thought and looked around.
Torr Talam loomed over him. The white tower was thick around the base and seemed to be made of a single piece of stone. Cracks and fissures, dark with age, ran from the base up toward the top of the tower, and the waves crashed across its base. It sat at the end of a jetty of rock, looming over the bay like a guardian.
They stood on a white sand beach, surrounded by what he could only call a jungle. The plants here were a mixture of purples and greens and yellows, tall trees that reminded him of palms and short bushes covered with heart-shaped leaves and bright green “berries.” Vines thick as his wrist wound up the trees, abloom with flowers, no two quite the same. Some were bright yellow. Some were shaped like trumpets. Others were parti-colored—purple and blue, or shaped like orchids.
A loud buzzing thing meandered up top one of the flowers and stuck out a long black tongue. It had a fuzzy abdomen, and its carapace was a metallic purple, glinting in the sunlight.
“It’s a zimbee,” Venin said, following his gaze. “They’re harmless.”
“Is there anything dangerous in this jungle?”
Venin nodded. “The martach. It’s also called the jungle cat. Six legs, each tipped with claws. It’ll disembowel you before you even know it’s there. Unless you’re unlucky and it decides to save you to feed its brood.” He scratched his chin. “There may be other things too. I’ve only been here once.”
Jameson shuddered. “Let’s get going, then.” He had no desire to become dinner for a six-legged cat. He’d underestimated the local wildlife once before. He wouldn’t do it again. “Errian should be just north of here.”
Alix put his bi-wings on.
They took to the sky and turned north, following the coastline, staying close to the trees in case they needed to seek cover quickly.
There should have been s
kythane patrols, especially this close to Errian, but they encountered no one on the way.
After about fifteen minutes, they came across another white stone watchtower, similar to Torr Talam but smaller, which stood out on a promontory that jutted into the sea. Jameson signaled for his companions to set down just inside the tree line of the jungle. He hoped there were no jungle cats this close to the sea.
He needed information. Did OberCorp control Errian like they had Gaelan? If so, how? How strong was their occupation force?
Or was he just being overly cautious?
They watched the tower for half an hour. The sun climbed into the sky, and it was already becoming uncomfortably warm and humid. Jameson hated humidity.
No one came or went. There was no sign it was occupied, though someone could certainly be concealed inside.
“I should go take a look.” A shiver of fear raced down his back, but he suppressed it.
“Absolutely not.” Venin stepped in front of him and blocked the way. “We’re expendable. You’re not. You’re the King of the Erriani. You have to try to remember that.”
Alix nodded. “He’s right. It should be one of us.”
“I can take care of myself.” His fear turned to anger. He didn’t need these two to protect him. He tried to push past Venin, but Alix grabbed his arm and hauled him back. Jameson was reminded again how strong the lander man was.
“Don’t be stupid. If I let you get yourself killed, I’ll never hear the end of it from Xander. What you can do is see if you can access any memories of that place.” He punched a finger in the direction of the tower. “Anything that might help me out if I’m going in blind.” He stowed his bi-wings.
“Why you?”
Alix grinned as if it should have been obvious. “Lander. Ranger. Got it? If OberCorp is running things, I can get in without suspicion.” He looked down at his skythane clothing. “Okay, with less suspicion. If it’s your guys… well, then you can come rescue me.”
“I suppose that makes sense.”
“So what have you got? How does this whole memory thing work?”
Jameson shook his head. “I wish I knew. Sometimes they just come to me. Sometimes… nothing.”
“And now?”
Jameson stared at the white tower. His memory flocks were stubbornly quiescent. “This time? Nothing. Sorry.”
“S’okay. We’ll just do this the old-fashioned way. Keep an ear out in case I get into trouble.” With that he sauntered out from under the shade of the trees and strode confidently across the intervening space, following the rocky ridge that led out to the tower.
It was surrounded by water on three sides, the waves lapping at the bleached rock.
An imprean flew up over the top of the tower, and Jameson remembered.
Jeron stood behind him, his warm hands on Theos’s shoulders. The sun was rising over the Argent Sea, the waters all a shimmer with its pink light. A single imprean soared above the waves, her white wings lined with gold by the sunshine.
Jeron nibbled his ear. “Do you really think war is coming?”
Theos shook his head. “The landers are stuck on their own half of the world.”
“I meant with the Gaelani.”
“They have their own kingdom in the west. Why should they make war on Errian?”
Jeron hugged him tightly. “War is never rational.”
“Jameson,” Venin shook his shoulder. “Wake up!”
Jameson blinked. The vision had been intense. He could still feel Jeron’s touch on his back, between his wings, and the warmth of his mouth on Jameson’s… Theos’s ear. “Sorry, what?”
“Memory lapse?”
“Yeah.” Jameson adjusted his pants surreptitiously. He didn’t think Venin noticed.
“Alix is signaling us.”
Jameson looked out at the tower and nodded. “Let’s go see what he found.” He was relieved the lander was all right.
Mostly.
XANDER LED his host on toward Errian, mostly following the course of the Orn. It was a beautiful day, mismatched to the darkness of Xander’s mood.
He needed time. He was sure of that much. But letting Jameson and Alix go on ahead without him, into who knew what kind of danger, grated on him.
They’d had to do it. There were more important things than his own needs.
The host passed over Ballifor at midday, the seared patch of the Riamhwood a poignant reminder of the battles fought and those still to come. Hard to imagine losing your village and everyone you grew up with in an instant.
So far they’d seen no other signs of OberCorp’s presence. Xander wondered if any of the satellites or Titan Station had survived the shift. Perhaps the station was floating alone in the lonely void, circling Oberon’s moon without a planet to orbit. If so, OberCorp would be flying blind—one potential advantage for the skythane.
Alia approached him as the sun passed over them into afternoon. She paced him silently for a while, providing quiet companionship. Xander appreciated that. It was nice not to be alone.
Below them, the Orn wound its sinuous way through the Riamhwood. The purple foliage was particularly lush there in the river basin, and here and there were skythane villages—smaller settlements of Gaelani. Ballifor had been one of those too, before the lander bomb destroyed it.
As the host passed over the small towns, more Gaelani men and women joined them, in ones and twos and threes.
“I’ve never seen the like of this.” Alia looked around at the gathered skythane.
Xander nodded. “I grew up on Oberon. The few of us there kept pretty much to ourselves.” The skythane there had been more of a novelty than anything, one that many sought out for sex and the thrill of the different. Xander had taken full advantage of that fact, after Alix.
“That must have been hard.”
“In so many ways.” He grinned to himself.
“Are you… how are you doing?” She glanced at him and then looked away, as if he were too fragile to survive a frank gaze.
“I’ll live.” Although even that was uncertain. They’d unleashed forces there that might be very difficult to contain. The divide that had separated the two worlds had also set certain limits on aggressive behavior between the landers and the skythane. Now that the worlds were one, things might escalate quickly.
“If I might ask, Your Highness—”
“Xander.”
“Xander. What happened between you two?”
Xander sighed. “Are they all talking about it?”
Alia pursed her lips and looked away. “You let him go without as much as a kiss.”
He should have anticipated this. People were asking questions. Thinking their leader was a pith-addled mess would help no one. “We had a disagreement on how to proceed,” he said at last. “Jameson wanted to go ahead, and I needed to stay with the Gaelani.”
“I guess that makes sense. Much more sense than some of the other rumors floating about.”
“Other rumors?”
“That you both took pith together.”
“Ah.” It was out. So much for having time to process it alone. “It wasn’t exactly our choice.”
“I’d guessed as much.” She looked ahead. “Where will we stop tonight?”
“I want to make the House of the Stars tomorrow. We can gather some food in the old orchards there.”
“The hunters are gathering what they can as we go. There are six teams out collecting auxen and whatever else they can find, animal or vegetable.”
“We’ll manage….” There was a strange droning in the air. Kind of like thunder, but more continuous. “What in the Split is that?”
In the distance three black specks appeared.
OberCorp. “They’re coming!” Xander shouted to the skythane closest to him. “Split up…. Don’t give them easy targets! Get down below the treeline!”
The dots resolved into hoversports, coming straight at them. The sleek matte-black craft were flat with rounded, aerodynamic
corners, and could each hold five or six enforcers. They bristled with pulse weaponry on top and bottom.
Their direction and speed left no doubt. They were on a course to engage their enemy.
Xander signaled for Alia to follow him.
The lead ship zipped through their formation, its pulse laser finding easy targets. One, two, then three skythane were hit, plummeting yelling toward the ground. Their screams were abruptly cut off.
As the second and third hoversports arrived, the host had scattered in a hundred directions.
The first one swung back around, and Xander opened fire on it from above with his pulse rifle. He missed it by fifty meters. Getting rusty.
Its own weapon fired back, and he escaped by tucking his wings and diving toward it. Looks like they no longer care about keeping me alive.
The gunner couldn’t get a good fix on him. He was coming in too quickly.
The wind whistled past him, along with pulse bolts like straight lightning. The howl in his ears was intense.
He had to time this just right, or he’d miss the mark and be vulnerable to the hoversport’s lower weapons.
The hoversport veered, but he followed, and he had speed on his side. He came down on top of it like an avenging angel and swept up his wings to slow his descent at the last possible moment.
The other hoversports sprayed pulse fire all around him, but his focus narrowed to just this one. Just this place, riding this hoversport, as he grabbed the cannon turret.
The gunner must have realized what was about to happen, because the turret started to descend into the ship, but he was too late.
Xander pointed his pulse rifle down into the ship under the turret and fired three shots. He let go and soared into the air as blue light wreathed the ship, splitting it apart at the seams and exploding into a thousand or more pieces that rained down into the river below.
More skythane were falling from the sky as the other two ships picked out individual targets. But his people had seen what he had done.
Soon they were dive-bombing one hoversport and then the other.
Lander Page 14