“What are you talking about?”
“I ran into the doc at the inn and it seems he still needs a ride to Orossa.” She grinned. “So how about we run him up there right now, turn around, and fly all night back to Tingis? We could be home by dawn if the wind plays nice.”
“Well, that sounds like a plan. But what about Kenan?”
There was a sharp rap on the hatch rim and the weary face of the one of the ground crew men poked in. “We’ve got a bit of an emergency. How fast can you folks get out of here?”
“Why? What emergency?” Ghanima asked.
“Fire, a big one in the third district, completely out of control. It just came in over the wire, emergency regs are in effect. All airships need to be out of the city immediately.”
Ghanima tossed the man a quick salute. “Acknowledged.” And the man was gone.
“Well, it looks like we’re heading out.” Taziri was too tired to think very hard about Ghanima’s proposal, but there were no glaring problems with it. Most importantly, it ended with home. Home, and soon. “Shut the hatch. Wheels up in ten minutes. Next stop, Orossa.”
Chapter 35
The major scanned the platform at Arafez Central Station, taking in all the variations of travelers. Mostly well-dressed businesswomen and their escorts and assistants, but also a few families. His thoughts strayed to the families hiding in the woods and he wondered if they had made it to the city yet.
Syfax glanced at his aide and saw the young man picking at his lip. “Spit it out, Kenan.”
“Spit what out?”
“Whatever’s got you all wound up.”
“It’s nothing.” He paused. “I just think we should have told the other marshals what was really going on. They’re holding our only witness and prisoner with no evidence and just our word to go on. What if Medina talks them into letting her go? What if Hamuy dies and they bury him in some unmarked grave?”
“And what if someone in the marshals’ office is working for Sade?”
“All the more reason to tell those officers everything we know.” Kenan frowned. “If they knew there was a conspiracy, they could start looking for traitors. It would make things a lot harder for the bad guys if the good guys were actually looking for them. As it stands now, these conspirators are still running around unchecked.”
“Maybe.” Syfax scanned the platform again, noting the handful of new arrivals scattered around them, all waiting patiently for permission to board the waiting train. “Or maybe the fact that we’ve got Medina has them scared and they plan to lay low for a while.”
“If that’s the case, how do we catch them? Aside from Lady Sade and the ambassador, we don’t have any suspects.” Kenan frowned at the train for a moment, but his gaze wandered around to the wider cityscape of dark buildings against a darkening sky. “That’s an awful lot of smoke over there.”
“A fire?” Syfax turned to look. “It’s a bad one. But it’s not in the factory area, it’s near the city center. Damn. You know what that means?”
“Riots?”
“Riots.” Syfax turned back to the train and a moment later he nodded at a group of people just stepping out onto the platform. “How about them? They look like suspects.” The marshals watched as Lady Sade led her entourage across the platform and formed a tight-knit circle next to the first class car just behind the staff car. Their number included several women wearing too much jewelry, a pair of men with unusually large upper arms, an Espani in a wide-brimmed hat, a girl in a feathery coat, and a handful of children carrying small bags.
“I don’t recognize any of them, except the governor.” Kenan kept his voice low and his eyes on the train.
“I recognize one of them.” Syfax turned his back to the group. “The one in the blue dress and the tall hair is Fariza Othmani.”
“Friend of yours?”
“Recent acquaintance. She lives in Khemisset. Chaou went to see her, but when I questioned her she denied having any connection to Chaou. She said she was retired. Apparently, retirement leaves her free to come to the city at a moment’s notice. She must have one hell of a steam carriage.”
Kenan nodded. “So, not a coincidence.”
“We don’t believe in coincidences, Kenan. I’ve told you that.”
“Yes, sir.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Someone just joined the party. Someone in a dress, but with a scarf and a hood. I can’t see her face, but she’s short. Could be Chaou.”
“It probably is.” Syfax kept his eyes on the opposite end of the platform. “What are they doing now?”
“Talking. Waiting.”
Syfax nodded. “How’s the arm?”
Kenan rolled his shoulder. “Better. I think I can live without this for a while.” He tugged the sling off his shoulder and slipped his arm slowly into his jacket sleeve with a slight wince. “Yeah, I’m all right.”
“Good. Now get the chip off that shoulder and we’ll be back on track.”
“Sir?”
“Kid, when I left you in Chellah you were all nerves and energy and sharp salutes. We’re separated for a day and now you’re a pile of sulk.”
“Sorry, sir.” He straightened up.
“Relax, corporal. We’re alive, we’ve got two people in custody, and we’ve got a handful of suspects in sight. This investigation may be a bit of a mess, but it’s coming together. In a few hours, it’ll all be over and you’ll have one hell of a story that you’ll never be able to tell anyone.”
Kenan sighed. “Because it’s all going to go in a classified file?”
Syfax nodded.
Kenan grinned. “Good to have you back, sir.”
A few minutes later, the train conductor emerged and declared that boarding would now begin. Everyone on the platform lifted their bags and politely converged on the train’s doors, where they funneled inside. Syfax led Kenan into the thick of the crowd and they entered the train two cars back from first class. Despite the press around the doors, the evening’s collection of travelers was well below capacity and the marshals found themselves in a sea of empty seats.
“Not a lot of cover, is there?” Kenan shifted about, looking up and down the aisle. “Should we move?”
“No. Just put your jacket under your seat. They may send their people back to check the train and we don’t need any extra attention before we’re ready.”
“Right.”
“And go sit over there. Spread out and keep your eyes on both doors.”
“Right.”
With their red coats stowed, they settled into their seats and watched a handful of stragglers board the car and find their seats. The conductor came through to check their tickets and comment on the lovely weather, and cluck her tongue at the riots. A few minutes later, the train whistle blew and the doors closed. The low growl of the engine rose in pitch and a deep huffing and thrumming shuddered through the car, and then they were rolling. Central Station crept away, and then a series of warehouses glided by. Moments later the walls of Arafez vanished and the world spread out to the horizon above wide fields of tall green grass and the occasional cluster of junipers and pines. In the fading light, Syfax spotted a lone oryx grazing on a hillside, its long antlers spearing the evening sky. It raised its head and stared back at the train. Then two dozen more trotted up over the crest of the hill and they all dashed away across the highlands.
Half an hour after leaving the station, the Atlas Mountains loomed along the eastern horizon, a jagged black shape against a violet sky. Kenan moved up the aisle to sit in the row behind Syfax. “Major? Want me to take a look around up there? See what we’re up against?”
“No, I want you take a stroll to the back of the train. Take a look around for anyone alone or out of place. Too young, too alert, too well dressed, too poorly dressed, anything. Make sure the governor doesn’t have any extra security looking over our shoulder.”
Kenan said, “You know, there’s an old woman with a cane just a few rows back who keeps staring at us. Could
it be someone in disguise?”
The major shrugged. “Who knows? But for right now, you’re looking for gunmen, not old ladies with bad hips.”
“Yes, sir.” He stood up. “You’ll be here when I get back, right?”
Syfax thumbed his nose. “That depends on how long you take.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll be quick.”
The moment the rear door closed behind the corporal, Syfax was on his feet. He reversed his coat to hide its characteristic red beneath the charcoal gray lining, and then sauntered up the aisle and through the car’s front door. The space between the train cars was windy, loud, and cold, but a moment later he was in the warm, quiet confines of the next car. It was identical to the one he had just left. Even the number and scattering of passengers appeared the same. He walked the length of the car and stepped out its front door. Again, the whirling night howled around him as he crossed the gap and hugged the rear door of the first class car. Through the small window in the door, she could see Lady Sade’s companions sitting on long, plush couches drinking tea. He noted the woman in the hood as well as the younger lady with the feathers and the Espani in black. The children all sat together to one side, sitting quietly with hands folded in their laps. The two men with the bulging arms had taken up positions near the doors at either end of the car.
Syfax lingered only long enough to scan the interior of the car and then pushed away from the door, leapt lightly across the gap and re-entered the passenger car he had just left. He made his way back to his own car and his own seat and had some time to study the swiftly changing landscape before Kenan returned and sat in the row behind him. “Major, I didn’t see any obvious security back there. Very few people by themselves, and most of them seemed to be sleeping. I don’t think we’ll have any trouble.” He paused. “Did you reverse your coat?”
Syfax continued staring at the rippling waves of grass and the islands of trees dotting the highland meadows. “You were right about the person in the hood. It is Chaou.”
“What? You went up there? Without backup?”
“Just long enough to see her face. I doubt they plan to do anything on the train or in the Lower City. There are too many factors in play. The army, the Royal Guards, the foreign diplomats, and all the local police and marshals. Lady Sade might have a lot of powerful friends, but she can’t possibly be in control of everything, everywhere. Not yet. Nah, whatever they plan to do, they’ll do it in the Upper City where there are fewer people to interfere.”
“The Upper City?” Kenan asked. “I’ve never been in the upper half of Orossa. I’ve never been higher than the Shrine of the Mother.”
“Most people haven’t. Security is tighter than a drum. The Royal Guards take their jobs pretty seriously.”
“The Royal Guards.” Kenan leaned forward and spoke lower. “Is it true they still maintain the castes in the Upper City? Arranged marriages, family trees, secure bloodlines?”
“What makes you think they do?”
“Oh, come on, major, everyone’s heard the rumors.” His eyes lit up. “Have you ever been to the Upper City?”
“Twice.”
“And?”
“And the people looked like people. I didn’t stop to ask anyone if they were Imajeren or Imrad or whatever.”
Kenan leaned back. “My grandparents were Imrad, you know.”
“Lots of people’s grandparents were Imrad.” Syfax paused as a wide shadow lumbered into view beyond the front door of the car. “Hang on. We’ve got a visitor.”
The marshals eased into positions of sleepy disinterest, lounging and leaning like all of their fellow passengers. The door opened and one of the imposing guards from the first class car sauntered in with a frown etched into the creases of his very square and serious face. He moved down the aisle, squinting at every person and bag he passed. He lingered near the marshals only as long as anyone else and continued past without a word.
Syfax heard Kenan exhale and mutter, “That was closer than I’d like. He’s got a revolver holstered under his left arm.”
“The other one is probably armed, too. They look like ex-army.” Syfax peered up at the front door through his narrowed eyes. “Crap.”
The other guard entered the car and took up a rather stoic position in front of the door. His gaze swept over the rows of mostly empty seats and came to rest on the marshals.
Syfax muttered, “I think we’ve been made.”
“How can you tell?”
“Call it intuition, or the ability to see.” Syfax sat up and straightened his jacket, not bothering to look up as the second guard came down the aisle toward them. The sounds of additional footsteps told him that the first guard was coming up behind them. When both men were standing at the edges of the marshals’ seats, the major said, “Evening, fellas, how are you doing? Is this the tea service?”
The closer one frowned. “Major Zidane? Lady Sade wants to see you.”
“Major?” Syfax shook his head. “Sorry. I think you’ve got the wrong guy.”
The man frowned a little harder. “I don’t think so. Show me your coat.”
Syfax shrugged and held up his reversed jacket, displaying its gray back and sleeves.
The men shifted in place. “You’re not a marshal?”
Syfax said, “I think they wear red.”
“What about you?” The other one nudged Kenan.
The corporal squinted up from his sleepy repose against the window. “Huh? Wha?”
The men frowned at Syfax and Kenan, then frowned at each other, muttered a bit, and then shuffled down the aisle and out the rear door.
Kenan sat bolt upright. “What do we do now?”
“Nothing. We’re still a few hours from the capital. We sit here and wait for them to make the next move. We could arrest Chaou now, but we’ve got nothing on the others yet, and we’d lose the governor and the rest of her friends. I want them all, so we wait.” Syfax paused. “Chaou can spot me, but she probably won’t recognize you. I want you to go sit in the next car and keep an eye out for her.”
“What do I do if I see her? I mean, I can’t exactly come running back here without making her suspicious, can I?”
Syfax shook his head. “You don’t do anything unless she brings the heavy guns with her. I can handle Chaou. Just sit in the back seat of the car and if you see trouble, press your hand against the window so I can see it.” He squinted at the front of the train where the foggy little window allowed a meager view of the next car. “And wipe some of that condensation off the glass as you go up.”
Kenan made his way forward to the next car, taking a casual swipe across the window with his sleeve as he passed. Syfax could just barely see him through the dark windows as he took a seat and hunkered down like the dozing travelers around him. A few minutes later the two armed men reappeared at the rear of the car and sauntered up the aisle. They paused beside him. “Where’s your friend?”
Syfax blinked. “Who?”
“The guy who was sitting behind you. Where is he?”
“Oh, he’s not my friend. He just sat down behind me when we boarded. And he hasn’t said a word this whole time either. His snoring was pissing me off though. I’m glad he’s gone.”
The men exchanged annoyed looks and continued up to the next car. Syfax saw them point out Kenan, but they continued past without speaking to him.
As the starry sky blossomed overhead, the blunt peaks of the Atlas Mountains melted into charcoal sketches against the blackness. Syfax thought of his early army training climbing those peaks and hiking those trails with his heavy pack digging into his shoulders and his rifle jostling against his hip. Above the tree line, the mountains offered nothing but cold, sharp stone in infinite varieties for weary young soldiers to march across, day after day.
Simpler times.
As the train plunged into the first mountain pass, Syfax noted the black iron spire on a rock ledge above the tracks. A watch tower. He smiled, remembering the long, miserable nights h
e had spent huddled in one of those towers on watch, and he wished the poor bastards on duty a warm and quiet night.
Chapter 36
Ghanima shifted her buttocks in the pilot’s seat. “This is the comfiest chair I have ever been forced to sit in for hours on end.”
“Isoke had it made special.” Taziri stared dully at her gauges and needles.
“Well, when we get back to Tingis, you need to introduce me to her, because she is a woman with excellent taste in chairs.”
“Yeah, sure.” Taziri tried to smile, genuinely happy that the young pilot had come back and they were finally on their way back to their normal lives. But the exhaustion had hit her all at once as soon as they took off from Arafez and they saw the city burning. She tried not to think of the people in those buildings, in those homes. She tried not to think about the flames.
The irregular snoring of the little Hellan doctor broke up the silence, punctuating the soft rhythm of the Halcyon’s propellers. Ghanima said, “I’m still getting used to these controls, but I already like them. Everything feels tighter, more responsive. More powerful, too. Turns and corrections are so easy. Captain Geroubi did an amazing job with this.”
“Yes, she did.”
“Hey, come on.” Ghanima touched Taziri’s shoulder. “You know she’s all right, right? She’s lying in some hospital bed, resting up, doped up on opium, and in a few days she’ll be good as new with a scar that makes her look sexy and dangerous. Cheer up.”
“We don’t know that yet, not for sure.” Taziri looked back over her shoulder. “Sorry. I just need to know that she’s all right. She took a huge risk on me once, she gave me everything, this career, and now I’m off in her boat while she’s…wherever she is.”
“Well, trust me when I say it’s better knowing there’s a chance she’s alive, a chance that she’s perfectly all right.” Ghanima squeezed the flight sticks and gazed out over the dark landscape of rolling hills and rocky mounds. The jagged ridges of the Atlas Mountains stood black against the night sky. “It’s a lot better,” she said softly.
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