Half Discovered Wings (17 page)

Darkness
beckoned, and the Second Chief was in no position to refuse. He
entered the hall.

‘
Marko.’

‘
Yes, Regent.’

Irenia
,
he
couldn’t help thinking,
he looks dead
already.

‘
Marko,’ said Regent Dysan, ‘do you have the box?’

‘
Yes,’ he replied.

‘
Give it to me.’

The Regent took it in delicate hands. It was wrapped in brown
paper and twine, tied in intricate and delicate patterns over the
wrapping, which he now tore away. The box was wooden, with oiled
brass hinges and polished surfaces. Inside it something hummed,
making the wood vibrate slightly.

Dysan gingerly opened the lid on its hinges. ‘Ah,
yes…’

Even though his cataracts, Dysan could see the vivid colours
of the monstrous insect. Huge wings, black with a surface like oil
on water, unfolded and folded themselves carefully. Six long,
clawed legs hooked themselves to the edge of the box, then to the
skin of the Regent’s hand. It stayed there, feeling the heat from
his thick blood vessels under the skin.

‘
Beautiful.’

The hornet hummed to itself, antennae stroking the groves in
his ancient hand. With his other, Dysan put the box on his lap and
held the creature gently in both cupped palms; it barely fit, since
it was over five inches long.

The animal lover that had raised the thing for him said it
needed to absorb the smell of the skin of its master for at least
ten minutes before it could be commanded. Dysan held it for twice
as long, watching it sit there quietly, its slender,
lightning-coloured abdomen pulsing in time with its heartbeat. The
sting, as long as his little finger, nicked his skin a few times
but never broke the surface.

It was too docile to
behave aggressively, which was just as well. A bolt-hornet was
arguably the most hostile non-vertibrate on the planet. The inside
of the wooden box was coated with a type of varnish infused with
smoke, which kept the thing sleepy.

Kinneas could hear it humming from where he stood six metres
away. He closed his eyes, trying to ignore the noise, but it was
too difficult. The sound penetrated his thoughts like a probing
lance, never letting up. He longed to be in the mews with the
falcons, helping them to preen their feathers.

‘
How many hours to indoctrinate it, Marko?’ the Regent asked,
drawing Kinneas from his daze.

‘
Now that the creature is under your command, two days,
sir.’

‘
And it will recognise its target just from my words? It won’t
sting someone else?’

‘
I don’t know how it works, Regent, but I’m assured it
does.’

Dysan smiled, and
leant down so that the beast’s antennae were stroking his lips, and
its hooked legs reached firmly up and fastened to his sleeve.

‘
Cybernetic
,’ he whispered. ‘
Cybernetic
.
’

~

The boat was shrouded in mist
that came from the lake. To anyone
who had seen a full-sized ship it was decidedly unimpressive, yet
to Rowan it was huge for something that floated on
water.

She’d asked Gabel to try to describe how it floated despite
its weight. He talked of water tension, buoyancy, the shape of the
boat, the pressure beneath and above the surface of the great
lake
… She
took it in and surprised herself by understanding it all, and
afterwards smiled and thanked him, her anticipation about sailing
apparently dissipated.

Now he put his
hands on her shoulders, and she pulled his jacket around her. They
looked up at the small vessel and waited to hear from the
magus.

The captain,
chief bosun and his mate were locals of Goya and had the same
strange language that Rowan was not accustomed to. Once the magus
and Caeles arrived, the three crewmen introduced themselves and
helped the passengers aboard.

Gabel stood by
a large sack that held the winter clothes he and the magus had
purchased. Caeles walked by, picked it up, and swung it over his
shoulder.

‘
I could carry that, if you want,’ said the hunter. Caeles just
shrugged and took it onboard.

‘
It’ll be a while, yet,’ said the captain. He had a large brown
beard that smelled of salt, and his right leg had a metal brace
around it that hummed when he walked. ‘Jus’ a few minutes, mind. No
rush.’

The bosun’s mate showed the magus and Caeles the two cabins,
each with a bed and a hammock. Rowan stayed on the deck, hands on
the edge, looking down over the side at the murky water. She looked
up to see Gabel crouched on the pier with his back to her, washing
his hands.

~

‘
Excuse me,’ said a voice.

Gabel stood
and flicked the water from his fingers. A man in reflective armour
stood a metre down the pier. He had the same colour skin as the
magus’s, the same stars on his cheeks. He seemed anxious.

‘
Come here,’ the man said.

‘
What is it?’

‘
I’m the Second Chief of the Squad,’ the stranger replied. ‘My
name is Marko Kinneas. There’s something you should be aware
of.’

‘
Yes?’ He looked out from under his hat at the man. Kinneas’
bright eyes flicked from him to the boat; Gabel followed his stare
and saw Rowan as she turned away, walking onto the bridge and out
of sight.

‘
What is it?’ he snapped.

‘
The Regent intends to kill your friend Caeles.’

‘
What? How?’

‘
He—’

Interrupted by a
thought, the man turned. Looking down the pier at them was the
slender figure of a woman Gabel had never seen, a serious
expression on her face.

‘
I must go,’ Kinneas said quickly. ‘Warn your friend. He’s in
danger.’

He turned and walked briskly toward the shore.

‘
What,’ Gabel called, ‘on a boat…?’

But the man
was already out of earshot. Gabel stroked the rim of his hat with
his fingers, then turned and ascended the ramp, hauling it onboard
after him.

~

Marisa de la
Naja stood with her boots planted just off the pier, her delicate
gloved hands holding her elbows.

‘
Whit were ye saying tae them?’ she asked Kinneas.

‘
Nothing important, Commander in Chief,’ he said. ‘Just making
sure they were all aboard.’

‘
Let’s git goin’, then,’ she said.

They had to ride hard to reach the Transitway before the
courier. The falcon Kinneas had dispatched had taken two hours to
reach Henrique’s camp; it would take Naja and her subordinate twice
that on horseback.

They raced together for two hours before stopping, more to
rest the horses than themselves. Kinneas let himself down, spinning
in the foot harness and touching the snowy ground. He saw his
superior gently mirror his movements, and then stand showing him
her profile, looking out through the trees.

She turned
then, and gave a nod. ‘We cannae stop here for long, ae
course.’

Kinneas listened to the sounds of the forest, the occasional
whoop of the birds he couldn’t see, the odd rattle of a tree mammal
that clawed its way up the bark and rustled the last remaining dry
leaves. He could hear the horses snorting quietly, chewing the
snow.

‘
Marko.’

‘
Yes, Ma’am?’

‘
Do ye think whit we’re doin’ es righ’?’

‘
It’s not my place to question orders.’

‘
Ae course no’,’ she said quietly, stolidly examining the
trees.

Once again his
gaze was drawn to the steady sweep of her hair, the sharp curve of
her jaw. She stood out against the whiteness of the snow, and the
silvery bark of the trees behind her.

Why had she asked such a question? Not once had he spoken in
disrespect to her, and never had he argued, disobeyed, or even
contemplated insubordination. And now … now she was questioning
orders.

‘
I don’t enjoy killing,’ he said simply, clumsily.

She turned,
looked at him, and her eyes softened in the liquid manner he
adored.

‘
No-one does,’ she said. ‘No-one outside the
Caballeros
, anyway. Ae
course no’. Ah wouldnae have ye with me now ef ah thought ye
did.’

He watched her
as she looked down at the ground, nudging the snow with her boot.
She patted the horse, and he heard her quietly whispering to it.
His heart knotted.

‘
We
should get moving,’ he murmured.

She nodded,
her hair shifting over her ermine collar, mouth a thoughtful pout.
Her heavy sword swung between her shoulder blades as she hopped
back into the saddle and settled herself, and he watched her until
she was moving before getting on his horse himself.

It took them a further ninety minutes to get to Transitway
TW-409, stopping just short of the sandy clearing where they knew
the cave mouth was. They hesitated behind the tree-line.

A horse, which
was securely tied by its reins to the metal rung of a rusted pylon,
was kneeling on its legs with its eyes closed.

‘
The messenger’s yet tae return,’ said Naja. ‘Let’s jus’
wait.’

By the rocky mouth of the Transitway was a sun-heated shelf
of rock. Upon it rested a dark-skinned man. He was smoking
something wrapped in a bleached leaf, and pale smoke curled up and
around him. He puffed quietly, sitting down by the horse and
singing a few notes, until the cigarette was just a tiny yellow
mark between his lips.

‘
No’
much time,’ said the Squad leader, moving silently despite the
thick snow and dry leaves. ‘I’m going tae—’

‘
Wait,’ Marko said, and his hand touched her shoulder. ‘He’s
armed.’

She saw the
holster on his belt, pregnant with a large pistol. She looked at
Kinneas again, that sparkle of surprise in her eyes. He loved that
look, knowing that each time he saw it she thought more of him.

‘
Well spotted.’

‘
Let’s skirt around,’ he said.

They moved quickly between the bare trees and arrived at a
patch of grass by the rock formation. Watching the man from this
new, much-closer position, they saw him stand and begin to wander
about, walking toward the horse and patting it as it hoofed the
ground.

‘
You’re fidgety,’ he said quietly.

The
animal snorted at him, eyes white and wide. It was certainly
unsettled – even Kinneas could see that – and the Sec-Chief
certainly didn’t share Naja’s love of horses. Had it sensed them,
or was there something else nearby…?

Both the guard and the horse had their backs turned; there
would be no better opportunity. The chief and her subordinate ran
across the mossy grass toward the man. He didn’t hear them until
they were halfway there. The guard whirled around, eyes as wide and
panicked as the horse’s had been, surprised at seeing two people
tear toward him; not sanguisuga, not the dreaded
Caballeros de la Muerte
,
but a man and a woman, one with a long straight knife and the other
with a two-handed sword.

The blades
hissed like vipers as they cut the air, then his flesh. Blood
splashed onto the ground by his feet and his knees landed in it; he
clutched his stomach, and then before he could utter a word, the
blades struck again, and he fell flat and still in the dirt.

They dragged his body
into the trees, then helped each other pull up grass and moss to
cover the stains on the peaty ground.

The horse, Kinneas saw, had been just as surprised as the
guard, rearing up once and stamping down again. Then it became
preoccupied, and looked out toward the trees in
consternation.

They hid by
the entrance, finding the rocky alcove where the man had rested. He
had been using it as a toilet, but they weren’t concerned with the
state of their boots; they could be cleaned, but a botched
assassination left more mess.

After a short while, they heard the clang and hiss of the
Transitway approaching at high speed through the tunnel. Less than
a minute later Henrique Martínez stepped out of the mouth of the
rock-face, flustered from his high-speed journey.

The young man stopped by the horse, patted it softly and
said, ‘Hey
señorita
, hey girl, what’s the fuss? What’s the fuss?’

He turned around quickly just as they were a few metres from
him. Henrique’s hand shot to something around his neck as he
realised who they were, why they had come … But before the
attackers could complete their mission, the horse screamed,
trampled the ground and broke its tether, tearing away toward the
trees. In its place the rainforest erupted; the three people
stopped dead, having turned to the mass of dark shapes coming at
them through the snow.

The brood of
sanguisuga tore up the ground around the clearing, kicking great
dusty plumes into the air, and every one of them fell upon the
terrified three, like a dark blanket pulled over a trio of lost,
trembling children.

~

He couldn’t
breathe; his lungs, filled with the living essence of Charos, were
stifled and painful. William Teague screamed for peace, but was
granted none.