by Lou Hoffmann
When he had his thoughts and feelings under safe cover again, he continued with Henry’s orders. “You’ll fly into the Fallows, try to mark the current location of the Droghona camps, look for these intruders we’ve been told about—I’m thinking they may look familiar to you, as they seem to have guns, which is something Ethra has not previously been cursed with. Look for anything else that appears… strange. Areas of unusual shadow, unexplained lights, creatures that don’t look like they belong. The terrain is going to be troublesome, Henry, even for a condor. It’s mountainous, very steep, broken slopes, hidden crevices, not a lot of flat land anywhere, and because the slopes are unstable everywhere except the rock peaks, the landscape actually shifts. I think your best bet, even though you’re flying, is to use the three main passes”—he pointed to the map—“here, here, and here as your entry points, and branch out from there to cover the terrain in between. Much of the trouble appears to be in the east end of the range, so maybe concentrate your main efforts there first.”
Han met Henry’s gaze and held it. “I suppose you’ll want to memorize the map, and Lieutenant Rahzi will introduce you to the riders who will be the closest thing we can give you to an escort. They’ll make an effort to stay reasonably close to you until they reach the border. Then they’ll go to the main camp. On the way down, contact them if you have an immediate need. Other than that, I’m your primary contact. You see something, you communicate with me about it.” He tapped his temple to make it clear how that should be done. “Do you have any questions?”
Henry’s answer came softly. “No. No questions.”
Han let silence fall for a moment, then said, “One more thing, Henry, and this is extremely important. Do not engage. If you see something bad happen, get out of there and report. If you know something’s going on but you can’t see exactly what, don’t try to get too close. Fall back and let me know what you see. Don’t fight unless you have to defend yourself. Your assignment is reconnaissance, not spying. Understood?”
Henry smiled slightly and nodded but said nothing.
Han was pretty sure Henry was reading between the lines of what he said. He decided he’d done all he needed to do at this meeting, mainly because he wanted to get the hell away from everyone. He turned his attention to Rahzi, and said, “Lieutenant, the troops have been told to expect departure tomorrow as soon as may be practical. Messenger relays have already been sent out to their pickets and should be in place well before you reach them. If problems, concerns, or questions arise, contact me. Otherwise command is yours. Keep me informed.”
LUCKY HAD gone outside to eat dinner with Han instead of eating at the big table in the manor. He’d felt kind of sorry he’d done it, as Han had hardly spoken to him, and then he’d left with a nod and a few words.
“I’m going back to work, Luccan.”
He’d returned for a quick moment, though, walked up and squeezed Lucky’s shoulder. “Thanks for sitting with me, lad. I know it was kindly meant.”
Lucky felt better, but he worried as he walked back to Thurlock’s house. After his practice session, he’d spent most of the day snoozing in the sun or napping in his room with only Maizie for company. Maybe he’d been exhausted, what with the time he’d spent in his mother’s dark world, the channeling he’d done with the Terrathian, pretending he knew anything about anything in meetings, and fighting imaginary foes with a sword made of light.
But between the snoozes and naps, he’d also been anxious about Zhevi and L’Aria, both of whom seemed to have disappeared. Now he added Han to the mix because he seemed unhappy. He generally stewed about all three for a while, and it was like a gateway drug—it led straight into stewing about everything else. He’d been the one having all the undreams and visions, and what Thurlock had said about mischief and evil afoot struck home. He couldn’t have explained why, but he thought the whole mess might be at least partly his fault, and it pained him to think his friends—not to mention his whole country, maybe the whole world—were in serious danger because of it.
He also suspected it wasn’t healthy for him to sit alone in his room and brood, so when Thurlock knocked on his door a little later and asked if he’d like to accompany him to visit Han in his office, he’d jumped at the chance.
“Sure,” he said. “I’ve never been there before. It’s not far, right?”
“Just past the stables.”
And as they passed those stables, Lucky searched the paddock for K’ormahk, but then he recalled the horse had flown away almost as soon as he’d delivered Lucky and Han to the Sisterhold. He started to add K’ormahk to his list of worries, but quickly realized it was ridiculous. He can take care of himself, and he’ll be here when I need him.
And I will need him soon.
How do I know that?
I don’t know, but I do.
That’s not normal.
Before Lucky could carry those thoughts any further, he and Thurlock arrived at the trio of single-story whitewashed buildings that housed the headquarters offices of the Sunlands military garrison. There hadn’t been much rain recently, so the path leading up to them was lumpy, hard-caked mud, instead of squishy, slippery wet mud. The buildings were each surrounded by something that seemed like a cross between a veranda and a boardwalk, and he and Thurlock stepped up onto it and stomped the bits of mud off their feet.
A plaque on the door of the corner office identified it as belonging to Sunlands Central Command, and Thurlock held it open. “After you.”
Lucky entered an empty office with a large desk holding scrolls and papers held down with weights. “He’s not here,” he said.
“This is his staff sergeant’s office. Probably, the man had enough sense to go home after a hard day’s work. Han’s office is through that door.” He pointed at a narrow, paneled door of dark wood that Lucky had thought led to a closet or a storeroom.
“Come in, Luccan,” Han thought to him.
Lucky did, and when he turned around to see if Thurlock had followed, the wizard had magicked up and now carried a tray laden with a mug of coffee, one of tea, and one of steaming cocoa.
“Oh, Lem!” he said with a broad smile. “I didn’t know you were here.” He sort of winked at the tray, and another mug of tea appeared.
Like magic, Lucky caught himself thinking, then mentally smacked his forehead.
Han maintained the irate look he’d directed at Thurlock as they entered for all of thirty seconds, tops, then closed his eyes and shook his head slowly. Accepting the cup of coffee Thurlock held out, he said, “Ah, well, sir. I guess you know how to appease the angry bear. Or dragon as the case may be. Thank you.”
Straight-backed chairs lined one wall of the smallish office. Lem occupied one, and Lucky and Thurlock settled into two of the others. They all carefully sipped their hot beverages, and Lucky thought Thurlock had been about to speak when there was a knock on the door.
“Come in, Zhevi,” Han said.
Zhevi stayed quiet after he entered the room and avoided meeting the eyes of his military superiors, though Lem was also his uncle, and Han could also be called his friend. Clearly, he was nervous, and Lucky supposed that was because he’d left at a time when he’d been told to stay for duty. Because Zhevi was a friend close to his own age, Lucky sometimes forgot he was a soldier, but at that moment, it seemed Zhevi was nothing but. Lucky had never seen anybody stand so perfectly at attention.
“Be at ease, Zhevi,” Han said, though he didn’t invite him to sit. “Just tell me where you’ve been.”
“L’Aria disappeared, sir.” He had relaxed a smidgen, but nobody could have believed he was “at ease.” “For some reason I couldn’t stop thinking I had to go after her.”
“Couldn’t stop?”
“I know it sounds weird, sir! But it was like I had blinders on. Whenever I tried to talk myself out of it, or even think about other things, I kept coming back to the same thing. I left to go find her, but the farther I got from the Sisterhold, the more I th
ought—could think—I shouldn’t be going. Finally, I discovered I’d gone pretty much in a circle. I was close to the Hold, and I came back. I’m sorry, sir. I know I was supposed to report this morning for something.”
“Well, the ‘something’ hasn’t left without you yet. Report to Captain Olmar—he’s still at his office, but he won’t be there long, so don’t dally. He’ll brief you, but the long and short of it is you’ll be part of a mission to try to save those children under the mountain and subdue their captors. I hope you find that gratifying.”
Zhevi brightened visibly. “Oh, yes. Yes, I will, sir. Thank you.”
Lem spoke up. “Ye’ll be leavin’ sometime tomorrow. Find out what your officer wants you to do between now and then, and stand ready to leave on time.”
“Yes, sir.” Zhevi saluted both his officers, turned on his heel and started to leave.
“Zhevi?” Han said, and then when Zhevi turned back around spoke with care in his voice. “Don’t worry about L’Aria. She’s gone after her father, and the two of them will take care of each other. She’ll be back.”
Lucky had watched the whole exchange, and tried to catch Zhevi’s eye, at least to wave goodbye, but either Zhevi was too preoccupied or he didn’t feel friendly toward Lucky. Lucky hoped it wasn’t the latter. Last year Zhevi had become a true friend, one of very few friends close to him in age at the Sisterhold. Life would be a lot crummier without that friendship.
Maybe it’s because I hit him. Duh.
Han interrupted the thought. “He’ll get over it. And I don’t think that’s it anyway. But Luccan, you need to go back to blocking your thoughts! I’m not the only person who can pick them up.”
Lucky decided not to answer, since that thought hadn’t been meant for Han anyway. Instead, he said what he’d been thinking before Zhevi left. “Han, I want to go with the soldiers to rescue the kids in those tunnels.”
Han’s expression and tone remained flat. “That’s courageous. Thanks for offering. But no.”
“You were going to have L’Aria go, but she’s gone. You need someone to replace her.”
Han narrowed his eyes slightly as if considering but quickly shook his head. “I don’t think I do, Luccan.”
“I did a lot in those tunnels. I know how to deal with all that awful stuff. I want to help the children.”
“Yes, you did a lot,” Han said, the corners of his mouth tightening now with irritation. “You were essential then. I admire that you want to help now. But I said no for good reasons, and the answer remains no.”
Lucky turned toward the wizard. “Thurlock, I want to—”
Thurlock looked puzzled, but his answer came calm and certain. “I’m afraid the answer is no, Luccan.”
“Why the hell not?” Lucky immediately realized he’d just yelled at a powerful wizard, and of course he regretted it. If he’d been the praying sort he would have started just about then.
But instead of turning Lucky into cheesecake or zapping him with chicken pox, Thurlock just answered him in the same calm tone. “Three reasons. One, you asked Han and he said no, and I don’t appreciate you trying to use me against him. We are not your parents and even if we were, it would be bad behavior to try to manipulate us that way. Two, Han is right, your talents should not be needed there. Three, I’ve decided you’re coming with me, a day or two from now, to Nedhra City.”
“I am?”
“You are.” Thurlock tilted his head back and forth as if allowing for doubt. “Well, it is your choice technically. I once told you I wouldn’t force you to do things, and I won’t. But I strongly recommend you join me.”
Chapter Twenty-Five: Farewells and Departures
UNLIKE THE previous night, Lucky didn’t sleep much at all after his visit to Han’s office, and he awoke feeling antsy. Fortunately the day whirled by with chores, farewells, and departures. From morning until late afternoon, Lucky was kept busy. Before lunch, he helped Thurlock organize the mess of scattered scrolls and notes and gadgets in his office, combed what would be a fortune in burrs if burrs were worth money out of a grouchy but cooperative Lemon Martinez’s fur, and stood a watch in the lookout tower atop the manor with Aunt Rose.
After lunch Han handed him a packet of papers and a map marked with all the places he needed to make deliveries. “These are all families Thurlock and I trust, people we think you should know. You’re not there to dawdle and socialize, but at least you can meet them, get on more familiar terms with the community.”
Lucky rode a horse named Zefrehl, a lovely, lightly dappled gray mare—descended from Windrunner, Lucky was told. She had a smooth gait and a spirited but mostly cooperative temperament. He also had company, a gray-bearded, very quiet soldier named Khester.
“I’m sending a guard with you,” Han had said, explaining that it was standard for official messengers to go in pairs whenever possible. Lucky was a little surprised that Han didn’t think Lucky would be in danger. “I’ve been careful about what households to send you to. You’ll always be within sight of a lookout, anyway. Plus, Thurlock’s warning the other day will give people cause to think twice. Call me if you get worried.”
The job wasn’t easy for Lucky; he had little experience with maps, and he’d never been to the places he had to go. Khester’s comments, generally grunts and sighs, were of little help. Still, Lucky didn’t mind the duty. He enjoyed being out on horseback on a sunny day, liked learning a little more about what he decided to think of as “the greater Sisterhold area.” He met some nice people too and felt like he was doing his bit for “the war effort.”
The papers were all the same, and though he had a little trouble with the reading, he couldn’t help but get the gist of what they said—prepare to report for duty. Han was calling in the reserves.
By the time he returned, left Zefrehl with a groom at the stables, and reported back to Han, the company of soldiers and rangers bound for Mt. Khalisehl was gathered on the parade ground outside Han’s office, ready to take their leave. Until Han rescued them, Lucky, Zhevi, and L’Aria had briefly been held captive in the caves beneath that mountain—although they didn’t know that’s where they were at the time. Now, Zhevi was going with the soldiers to rescue the rest of the children being held there, or at least those who still lived.
Lucky called out to get Zhevi’s attention, walking out onto the churned mud of the parade ground to wish him well. “I wanted to go with you,” he told Zhevi, “but Thurlock has other plans for me.”
“You’re not thinking of sneaking off, are you? That didn’t work out so well before.” Zhevi’s smile made the words a gentle tease, but they were true, and Zhevi had very good reason to be mindful of it. Lucky’s defiance had come close to costing Zhevi his life—more than once.
“No,” Lucky said. “Not this time. Not the way things stand.”
His own seriousness surprised him, and maybe Zhevi too, because he gave him a curious look and then pulled him in for a hug. “Stay safe, Luc.”
Lucky wished Zhevi safety and success, and then it was time for him to get out of the way.
The mission seemed to Lucky a very grim prospect, and from his perspective it became a far cry grimmer when Maizie followed Zhevi away toward his horse, near where the mounted officers and the infantry columns prepared to leave. Lucky called out to her to come back, and she stopped and turned toward him, whined, and then went with Zhevi anyway. Lucky stared, speechless over what seemed to him a betrayal. He started to trot after them, determined to keep Maizie with him and certain she was just somehow confused.
Han had been nearby, making his way through the assembling company, imparting well-wishes, encouragement, and appreciation. But now he stepped quickly over to Lucky and grabbed his arm. “Let Maizie go, Luccan.”
“Han!” All Lucky’s unbelieving misery came through clearly in that single exclamation. “Why is she following Zhevi? She doesn’t even know him, but she won’t come back when I call.”
“I don’t know why,” Han
said, his voice firm, but not lacking sympathy. “But she has a reason. She senses something. Sometimes animals know things they can’t explain to humans—even people like me. There’s something she has to do and no one’s going to understand it until the time comes for her to do it. Let her go.”
As bitter as that parting had been, it wasn’t the only hard moment that day.
Only a few moments later, Han had said, “Henry’s waiting to say goodbye to you too. Come to the stables.”
Lucky kept his goodbye to Henry quick, because he could feel Han’s anxiety from where he stood to the side, waiting and showing no outward sign of emotion at all. Not because he felt none, Lucky knew, but because he was the Commander General of the Sunlands’ military forces, and all around them, soldiers were mounting up or lining up, ready to go. He had an image to uphold. Still, when Lucky stepped away after quickly hugging Henry, Han stepped in and put a hand on Henry’s arm, and they stared at each other for a long time. They couldn’t have spoken with their minds—Lucky already knew Henry’s mind was only open to Han when he was in condor form. But damn, they were speaking with their eyes, and it was so explicit Lucky blushed and walked away.
He thought of Rio, wished hard that he could see him soon, and thought maybe he felt an answering touch coming through from so far away—although he wasn’t sure, when referring to Morrow’s farm where Rio lived, whether the distance was in time or miles or both or neither. A touch over that kind of chasm wasn’t the perfect way to be with your boyfriend, but it was better than nothing at all, so Lucky smiled, if only because he needed to smile amid so many reasons not to.
He made his way back to Thurlock’s house and arrived in time to say farewell to the Droghona men, who would travel back to their home with the troops headed to the Fallows. Olana had decided to stay awhile at the Sisterhold, and Thurlock had clearly been very happy to hear it. The wizard trusted her, and said as much, calling her a “powerful light-worker.”