"I'm certain he worried more about them than doing his duty," the lord chancellor said.
"He wanted to do both, sir. I was there with him, and I also did not want to see those people die. Onin asked that we turn back and do what we could to save them. I eventually agreed."
"Traitors!" the lord chancellor shouted, now standing and shaking his fist at Jordic.
Emel ignored this. "Tell us the rest."
"We could not save them, sir. The airship crashed into the Noonspire and only Onin's bravery saved two of the Greatlanders. The Herald of Istra fought and saved others, but she, too, was lost. It looked as if the crystal itself consumed her." Outrage, disbelief, and harrumphs interrupted him. He raised his voice to be heard above them. "Afterward the Greatlanders wanted Onin to take them somewhere, but he refused, saying he had to do his duty first."
Again, the lord chancellor made a rude noise but quieted under Emel's level glaze.
Jordic continued. "Kyrien, the last of the regent dragons, came to us, ridden only by the Herald's companion. Kyrien communicated with Jehregard and Tanaketh directly. It was the dragons who decided where Onin and I went."
No longer was any sense of order maintained. Sensi and the lord chancellor backed slowly toward a concealed exit. They did not flee, but they stood ready. Jordic had known this would not go well, but he hadn't been prepared for this. "Jehregard took me to the Midlands where I negotiated a trade for valuable goods and skills. With me are five of the Midlands' finest weaponsmiths, and we brought most of the materials needed to defend the Heights and the Midlands. We need them to help us make the weapons, and they need us to defend their homeland. I did my duty, and Onin did his. We must accept and acknowledge the fact that the dragons have agendas of their own, including verdants. We are not always in control."
"Lies!" someone shouted, and a scuffle broke out. Jordic wondered if he'd gone too far, but he knew what was right and would defend it to his grave.
Only when dragonriders fresh from the fight entered the chamber did order return.
The lord chancellor grew bold once again. "We can believe nothing this man says. It is my judgment Jordic of Kern and Onin of the Old Guard are traitors."
"What madness is this?" yelled one. His leathers and furs still smoked from battle, and the smell alone reminded of stark realities. When no one spoke, he made his report. "Scouting patrol just returned and reported some kind of giant plinth rising from the Jaga."
"It's the Noonspire!" one of the Midlanders shouted before clamping his hands over his mouth.
Sensi and the lord chancellor moved to escape the chamber.
"Onin of Sparrowport is no traitor," shouted a gnarled man missing two fingers and a thumb on his right hand. "We came here to help you and to help our homeland, but you betray your own. We accompanied Jordic of Kern. We saw what he described, and yet you do not even think to ask us, as if we could not be trusted to verify his words. You disgust me."
"I agree," Emel said, and the room went silent. "I challenge the lord chancellor's judgment."
Men blocked the lord chancellor's escape, knowing full well where the exits were. On trembling knees, Jordic of Kern waited, his life hanging in the balance. Never before had the captain exercised his right of challenge, mostly because it required a unanimous vote among the council and the guard. Such a thing he'd never witnessed. It took only a moment for the guard to form a unified front, standing in support of their captain, Jordic, and Onin. Two council members rose almost immediately to join them, but most remained where they sat. The lord chancellor looked smug. Sensi, at least, had the good sense to be afraid. Sweat poured from his pale flesh.
Emel stared down at two of those councilors who remained seated, saying nothing, his expression never changing. After only a moment, they joined him. Three council members remained, but when Emel turned on them, they no longer hesitated. Only Sensi and the lord chancellor remained in opposition. Only then did Jordic join the others in staring Sensi down. The big man quivered and shook, and after issuing a terrible wail, he ran to Jordic's side.
"The lord chancellor's judgment has been challenged and unanimously rejected. Jordic of Kern will receive a commendation for flying what may be the most dangerous flight of this war. Onin of the Old Guard is now an honorary member of the New Guard and due all the rights as such. Upon his return, he will be treated with respect."
"Fools!" the lord chancellor shouted before being allowed to finally flee the room.
* * *
"Kenward, you fool! Are you trying to kill someone?" Nora Trell screamed at her grinning son.
Stepping from the stinger and taking a bow, Kenward promptly slipped on a loose shingle. "Could someone just lean the ladder against this wall, please?"
Shaking his head and despite Nora's glare, Farsy brought the ladder and held the bottom. Jessub said nothing and tried to turn invisible. So far, it wasn't working. Fasha didn't take her eyes off him; the boy was in serious trouble. It almost made Kenward giggle. Seeing the look on his mother's face made the problem worse. The good captain did his best to appear cowed, but his mother and sister were having none of it. Workers dodged in and out, and the women barked orders before turning back to glare at him.
"Now look at what you've done," Nora said.
"It's not so bad," Kenward said. "The stinger took barely a scratch. Nothing a good bit of polish won't fix, I imagine."
Nora put a hand on her hip and raised an eyebrow. "And what about my roof?"
"I am sorry about that. A slight miscalculation, I'm sure. The winds are tricky around here, you know."
"I'm aware of this fact," Nora said, her face reddening. "One of the reasons I liked this place was that you'd have to be a fool to try to fly into it. Which I think was proven true today. I like having a mountain between my house and experimental aircraft."
"Or two," Kenward said. Nora silenced him with a glare. He chose a different tack. "I'll have some of the people working on the Kraken's Ghost come up and remove the stinger. I'm sure one of them will know how to fix a roof. Looks like tricky business to me."
"Fool boy."
"What?" Kenward asked, trying to appear innocent.
"I'm paying those people, and you waste their time."
"Not a waste, Mother. In the air I gained perspective, not to mention an otherwise successful test flight of the stinger . . . if you overlook the landing. Plus I got to see . . . other things." With the last part, he raised his eyebrows at his mother.
Fasha stopped glaring at Kenward and turned to in disbelief. "What are you hiding, old woman?"
Jessub laughed uncontrollably but then bit his lip and tried to make himself invisible. He failed.
A moment later, there came a rushing sound outside. Bits of the roof fell in as a massive downdraft struck. Kenward looked up in shock to see the stinger lift off. It couldn't be. Running to the door, he opened it to see the stinger resting on the grass nearby, undamaged. Six people saluted, all in uniforms both familiar yet new. Kenward was speechless. Fasha stared, open mouthed. Now both knew why their mother had been unconcerned about finding enough thrustmasters and flightmasters to get the massive ships off the ground.
"I knew you were up to something big," Fasha said with an accusing glare at Nora.
"You didn't think I was going to let you have all the fun, did you?"
Four men and two women entered the cabin with military precision and formality. Kenward giggled and Nora glared at him. "Ever since Catrin Volker flew the Slippery Eel, I knew this day would come. Once I'd seen it done, it became obvious; my own eyes allowed me to believe my wildest dreams might really come true. How many times have I paced the decks, waiting for wind to push me along? How many times have I wished to fly like a bird and leave cold waves behind? I love the sea, truly I do, but this is business."
"Speed is speed," Kenward said, and this time Nora smiled at his words. "And size is size."
These words made Nora purse her lips. Fasha's eyes smoldered. Kenwa
rd stayed silent but it wasn't easy.
"These fine people: Vik, Raja, Devin, Wenli, and Gret are our new shipmasters. Two will be assigned to each ship."
Kenward seemed to be taking in the term shipmaster, but Fasha did the math. "There's a third ship?"
Nora didn't answer; instead she just looked at Kenward, closed her eyes, and inclined her head. He needed no more permission. Leaping up from his chair, he said, "It's huge, Sis! You've got to see this thing. It's way bigger and crazier than what we're building. We're rational and staid compared to that madwoman." More than a few of those gathered looked uncomfortable. "I've never seen anything like it. What are you going to name that thing, the Flying Island?"
"The Trader's Skies."
For all his joking, that name struck Kenward's heart. This was the opportunity of several lifetimes, and his mother was going big. With that statement, she had explained everything. Kenward was about to ask what the heck a shipmaster did when Nora got up and signaled for everyone to go outside.
Kenward walked out beside Fasha, who muttered in disbelief. Ahead walked the one he thought was named Vik or Vix or something like that.
"I think the old bag might have finally lost it, Sis."
Fasha rolled her eyes.
Vik or whatever his name was stiffened and walked faster. Kenward reminded himself not to select old Vik when the time came--too stuffy.
"Show them," Nora said, and she nodded at Vik.
The man stepped forward, straightened his arms, and flexed his muscles. Kenward wasn't impressed until the rush of air burst from his hands, lifting him from the ground and spraying everyone else with leaves and other debris. Kenward wondered if he'd judged too soon.
Then Nora pointed at Gret; the smallest person in the group by a noticeable margin. Then she pointed at the towering, ancient trees across from the cabin, away from just about everything else. "Show him."
Bending her knees and establishing a firm stance, Gret leveled her fist at the trees. She and Vik both held something in their hands, but Kenward couldn't make out what they were. When the woman applied her will, Kenward took two steps back. Without so much as flinching, she cast a column of rotating air across the distance with such violence, trees ripped from the ground were sent spinning into anything still standing. Within seconds, the land was cleared. Now Kenward understood how they had cleared the valleys in such a short time and how so many trees had been brought down and stacked in staging areas.
"How are you not crushed by such force?" Kenward asked. "Or thrown backward?" He had seen the challenges flightmasters and thrustmasters faced. This brought entirely new possibilities."
"The ancients knew things we still don't understand," Nora said. "These devices are among them. Clearly the vortex orbs allow tremendous thrust but also counteract it. Somehow the user is not subject to those forces unless desired."
"May I?" Fasha asked Gret, holding out her open palm.
Looking to Nora first, Gret received a nod in answer. With a sheepish look, she handed the glassy orb to Fasha. She'd seen such things before but never quite like this one. Part of the spherical object was perfectly clear; within, a glittering maelstrom swirled, impossibly deep and complex. The back was covered in metallic green and orange creating an intricate pattern. Form, function, and design created breathtaking art.
"For all the money I've spent building these ships," Nora said. "These cost me twice that; not to mention years of research. We need more, but it is a start."
"You got me, Mom," Kenward said. "I'm impressed."
"You haven't seen anything yet, fool boy." Nora wore an impish grin. "The next part is just for you." Rarely had she ever commanded Kenward's attention more completely. "Show him, Raja."
The man stepped forward with no expression on his face. He was good, Kenward thought. From his pockets, Raja produced four rocks, a couple of pieces of string, and a tiny thrust tube with hooks around the outside and a black crystal mounted at its center. Kenward recognized noonstone. He'd seen the largest piece in the world, and this was surely the same material. With those thoughts came pain, and he tried to push it away. What Raja did next partially succeeded. First he tied the thrust tube to the rocks and placed it at the center.
"Start the reaction," Nora said. Placing his hand over the crystal, a tiny blue spark and a pop were followed by rushing air. A pleasant breeze resulted. "Now provide no more energy."
Kenward gaped. Floating above the table, the miniature thrust tube continued to pump air, presumably with no input from the shipmaster. Such a thing could allow the ungifted to fly continuously on their own, Kenward realized with a jolt.
"Now we just need a whole lot of noonstone." Fasha said.
Nora grinned. "Funny you should mention that."
"Mother," Kenward said. "You are an evil genius."
"It's about time you all figured that out. Now somebody fix my roof!"
Chapter 11
A passionate life inspires.
--unknown bard
* * *
"I'd wager you never thought this would be your day," Nat Dersinger said to the man in Kyte livery, who leaped in surprise. "Left here practically alone to guard empty chambers. It must have seemed the most boring assignment possible."
Reaching for his sword, the young man turned to see Nat, backlit by the comets beyond the open balcony.
"Now before you do anything foolish, ask yourself this: Do you really want to cross a man capable of sneaking into the most secure part of Wolfhold?" Feeling bad for the young man, Nat could hardly believe he was there. No previous experience had prepared him for this. Mael's thoughts tickled his mind. "I don't want to kill you. This should be evident based on the fact that I could easily have killed you already."
Watching the young man's every move, Nat sensed his belief. Victory must have shown on his face. The young man looked as if he might try to make a run for it, presumably to seek help, but then thought better of it after Nat spoke. "Lord Kyte will not even miss what I am here to retrieve. It was left here long before the Kyte family occupied this structure. I will, in fact, be giving you and your lord a magnificent gift at a small price." The young man didn't look at all convinced but did not flee. "What is your name?"
"Jenneth," he said, his eyes downcast.
"I'll make you a deal, Jenneth. If you trust me and do as I say, I will leave you alive and more popular than you've ever been before." The young man's expression told Nat he just needed to set the hook. "Imagine telling Lord Kyte about how you found the ancient stash of art and artifacts that had been hidden within Wolfhold for ages."
Emotions played across Jenneth's face.
Hero.
Nat felt the nudge, recognizing it for what it really was; always before he had called it intuition then visions. Now he understood the true source and marveled at Mael's skillful manipulation. A single thought at the right moment was all it took to change the course of human history--or at the very least Nat's life and now Jenneth's.
"I'll do it," Jenneth said, "but do not think to cross me. One does not get to guard the lord's chambers, empty or not, without reason."
Nat did his best not to undo what Mael had helped him accomplish. He could have pointed out how much good that had done Jenneth, but he knew better. Instead he closed his eyes and inclined his head. It was enough.
"You've been taught to defend this place," Nat said. "You know how to trigger the cave-in mechanisms to isolate this part of the hold." The young man appeared to have second thoughts. "I need the key."
Looking over Nat's shoulder, Jenneth blanched. Knowing what the young man saw, Nat did not blame him for his fear; the dragon mage frightened him as well. No matter what he sensed beneath a seemingly endless well of resentment, Mael was no gentle flower. Jenneth said nothing but glanced at the fireplace. Stifling a laugh, Nat walked to the ornate hearth and inspected the tools hanging alongside. Amid the tongs and pokers rested a different kind of implement. Covered in soot, it fit with the rest, save t
he more skillfully crafted handle. Nat grabbed the key and walked toward the inner halls, indicating Jenneth should lead the way.
"How did . . . ?"
"Never take up gambling, kid. They'll just take all your money."
Hanging his head, Jenneth nodded. "I already learned that lesson."
Again came a twinge of guilt, but he just had to take solace in the fact that the young man would see another day. Beyond that was not his responsibility.
"Where are we going?" Jenneth asked, his voice trembling.
"To the secondary juncture," Nat said. Jenneth was again appalled by how much information Nat possessed. Mael had told him this would be the case. This was the final fallback position in the keep's defense. The Kyte family's early discovery and use of the keystones had made them extremely easy to manipulate. And they had brought other places within the sorcerer's reach. Ohmahold, Drascha Stone, even parts of the Godfist outside Dragonhold. Now Nat recognized the brilliance, amazed at what Mael had accomplished with so little access to Istra's light.
I saved the last bit of energy from when Istra last departed this world. Such a sad parting. I longed to use that power every day for three thousand years. I had to be patient.
Such resolve would have been unimaginable to Nat before Mael, but having been touched by this ancient mind and shown a glimpse, he was in awe.
Jenneth led the way reluctantly. He did not deviate from what Nat knew was the shortest path to the juncture. At least he was no fool. After two turns, Jenneth stopped. His eyes went to the ceiling, and he looked back as if he might be sick.
Nat joined him and looked up to see a beautiful mural of a wolf pack caring for pups. As much as he hated to do it, Nat hoisted the key.
"Do you have to?" Jenneth asked before Nat made another move. "Are you sure?"
"You know this is the location of the cave-in release, correct?"
The Seventh Magic (Book 3) Page 11