Soarers Choice (71 page)

“That
had to be one of Lyzetta’s devices,” Dainyl declared. “From more than ten
vingts away?” A smaller explosion followed.

Dainyl
kept studying the sky. There were no more lightcannon or light-rifle beams.
Either the two squads of Seventh Company had been destroyed or the ships
disabled. He wanted to believe the latter, but worried that it might be the
former.

Alcyna
walked from the flight stage toward the remaining two squads of Seventh
Company. Once more Dainyl followed, feeling even more helpless. Yet... what
could he do?

Alcyna
had the situation in hand — as much as anyone could. Even if he had gone back
to the Table in the Hall of Justice, nothing he could have done through the
Tables or the web of the ancients would affect the battle around Elcien. And he
certainly didn’t want to be in the Palace at the moment.

“Lift
off! Defend the Palace!” ordered Alcyna.

The
remaining nine pteridons spread wing, and in instants the courtyard of Myrmidon
headquarters was empty.

“Now
... we wait. Again.” Alcyna’s voice was simultaneously dry, yet weary.

Dainyl
had always disliked waiting.

Another
wave of purple-black Talent washed across Dainyl, and then the ground shifted
underfoot, enough that he had to take two steps to keep his balance.

Alcyna
turned to him. “What was that?”

“Something
from the transfer — that’s what it felt like the first time,” he replied. “It
killed all the guards in the Table chamber.”

“I
wondered ...”

“Why
I’m here?” Dainyl asked. “The Tables aren’t usable, and even if they were, what
could I do with them to change this?” He gestured skyward, then paused.

Four
pteridons were flying toward the headquarters compound. But whose pteridons?
His hands went to the lightcutters at his belt. Watching the Talent creatures
near, he waited.

One
pteridon swept in, coming for a landing, the first indication that the four
were from those companies loyal to the marshal and the Duarch. As it touched
down, Dainyl recognized Undercaptain Asyrk. The next two fliers were also from
Seventh Company. The last pteridon carried no Myrmidon.

Dainyl
jumped onto the flight stage. This time Alcyna followed him.

Asyrk
looked down without getting out of his saddle and harness. “One ship destroyed,
sir. The other’s a flaming wreck. Fifth and First Companies have engaged two
companies and the ground forces beneath them, but the sandoxen and coaches are
carrying lightcannon.”

“Are
you the only ones left from your squads?” Dainyl looked at Asyrk, sensing the
truth of the undercaptain’s words, as well as a combination of apprehension,
devastation, and sadness.

“Yes,
sir. Each ship had a lightcannon and light-rifles. Some of the squad took hits
so the captain could deliver her weapon.”

Dainyl
turned to Alcyna. “I’ll take the pteridon. If another comes in without a
Myrmidon ...”

Alcyna
offered a grim smile. “I thought you might.”

“You’ve
developed the plan. I can’t add to that, and I might help in the air.”

“I
can’t deny that. Good luck, Highest.”

Dainyl
smiled wryly. Her use of his title was as much disapproval as acceptance. With
a nod, he dropped from the platform and loped across the courtyard to the
flierless pteridon. Once there, he vaulted into the saddle and quickly fastened
the harness, then turned to Asyrk. “Lift off!” Belatedly, Dainyl checked for
the skylance and was relieved to see it in its holder.

The
pteridon was airborne, climbing into the north wind.

Right
turn ... tight... south.

Dainyl
took a quick survey of the sky over Elcien, but saw only the two squads from
Seventh Company in formation above the Palace. His eyes went to the Hall of
Justice, and he swallowed as he sensed the entire structure swathed in purple
Talent — a force that felt slimy from even a vingt away and from his five
hundred yards of altitude.

To
the southwest he saw smoke rising from a fiery shape on the waters of the bay,
the smoke being carried southeast by the wind. To the west of the smoke and
fire was a widening oil slick.

Lyzetta
... dead ... killed defending Elcien ... and her father.

As
the pteridon leveled out heading south, Dainyl could see scores more pteridons
swirling around in aerial combat, with occasional skylance discharges and even
more occasional bolts of lightcannon flashing skyward. The lightcannon blasts
were coming from the high road, or close beside it, less than ten vingts south
of the bridge that spanned the channel separating Elcien from the southeast
shore of the bay.

The
lightcannon were a problem that he just might be able to remove, and should.
They were a threat to the future of the world and a threat that neither
Khelaryt nor Samist should ever have allowed to continue and grow.

Down
... fifty yards, above the high road.

The
pteridon swept down, and the road flowed by beneath them.

Dainyl
eased out the skylance, preparing for what was to come. Even from more than
three vingts away, he could make out the lead lightcannon, both with his eyes
and his Talent, so great was the lifeforce stored in the long flat wagon on
which it was mounted.

Lower...

Dainyl
felt as though the pteridon’s wings were only yards above the trees that edged
the fertile fields flanking the high road, but the lower he flew, the less
likely they were to be spotted until the last moment.

He
strengthened his shields and lowered the tip of the skylance.

The
alectors in black and silver on the modified sandox coaches turned, raising
their light-rifles. Thin lines of blue-green flashed against his shields.

Dainyl
could feel the outer edges of his shields fraying, but not badly, not yet, and
he aimed the lance, not at the lightcannon itself, but at the heavy-bodied
wagon beneath it, filled with crystal storage cells.

The
lightcannon was swinging toward him.

Dainyl
raised the lance and triggered a quick blast, Talent aimed at the cannoneers
controlling the weapon. While their shields absorbed most of the blast, one of
them was thrown off, and the second lost his grip.

Drawing
even more on the pteridon’s lifeforce, and his own Talent, Dainyl triggered the
lance, using his Talent to keep the blue flame-light focused on the wagon.

Hard
left!

The
pteridon banked eastward at his command. CRUMMPTTT!

Even
the pteridon was thrown sideways, and then upward, and its lower wingtip sliced
through a tree limb. Level... stay low.

For
a moment, Dainyl wasn’t sure whether he’d remain airborne, but the pteridon
managed to right itself, even as he could feel the heat behind him, the result
of the enormous release of lifeforce.

Two
smaller explosions followed, and from the bluish feel to the second, he was
certain it had been one of the pteridons following him.

Right...
and climb fifty yards ...

Dainyl
glanced westward and slightly back, catching sight of the still-climbing pillar
of flame — and two smaller columns of smoke and fire, one of bluish flames,
short of where the heavy lightcannon had been.

“The
high road around where the one lightcannon had been was a mass of flames, and
the trees and winter-dry grass on both sides of the road had begun to burn.
Unfortunately, he also saw that another lightcannon — set up on a knoll to the
west of the high road — was still firing at the pteridons above. Dainyl glanced
upward. Between the girths and straps on the underside of Brekylt’s pteridons
were swathes of black and silver shimmercloth — clearly there for easier
identification by those firing the lightcannons from below.

Right...
steady ... lower...

Another
set of blue-green lines flashed past him, some hitting his shields, as the
pteridon sped just south of the line of flames that marked the high road and
toward the remaining heavy lightcannon.

Dainyl
twisted in his harness and aimed the skylance, triggering it twice.

One
of the light-rifles exploded, the flames enveloping the alectress who held it.

Returning
his concentration to the heavy lightcannon ahead, Dainyl eased the pteridon
lower, so close to the ground that Dainyl felt the tops of the trees in the
woods to the south were higher than he was. Even as the pteridon closed to less
than a vingt from the lightcannon, the alectors firing the weapon continued to
concentrate on the pteridons overhead.

The
guards between Dainyl and the lightcannon turned abruptly and leveled their
light-rifles at him. Before they could fire, he triggered two quick bursts,
Talent-aimed at their weapons. One light-rifle exploded, then the second.

The
heat rose past Dainyl as the pteridon swept over the explosions and flame, and
he felt as though he had flown through a furnace. Ahead was the heavy
lightcannon. Once more, he Talent-guided a long bolt at the cart beneath the
lightcannon, boosting the power of the bolt with his Talent and lifeforce from
the pteridon.

For
a moment, the pteridon lost altitude, one wingtip almost brushing the top of a
hedgerow.

Left!
Hard!

The
pteridon banked, gently at first, as it struggled to hold and then gain
altitude, and then more steeply.

The
lightcannon flared into energy, and the explosion flung the pteridon farther
southward. Dainyl could sense the Talent creature drinking in the dispersing
lifeforce and getting stronger, righting itself. While the pteridons could take
concentrated lifeforce when it was unattached or directed, as at an
administration of justice, that happened so seldom that Dainyl was taken aback
for a moment.

Climb!

As
the pteridon circled upward, Dainyl tried to make sense of the melee above him,
but before he could pick a target, one of the black and silver pteridons
wheeled away from the pack and toward him, angling down in a high-speed dive.

Dainyl
triggered his skylance, but the blue flame cascaded off the other flier’s
shields. Those shields were far stronger than those of any Myrmidon Dainyl had
ever encountered — and of a deeper purple, suggesting a Myrmidon from Ifryn.

The
return blast flared away from Dainyl’s shields, and Dainyl could sense the
surprise from the other flier, even from more than a hundred yards away. The
other flier banked to the east and started a climb.

Dainyl
followed, his pteridon gaining quickly on the other. Rather than trigger the
skylance from a distance, Dainyl waited until he was less than fifty yards
away. Then, as he triggered the skylance, he drove a Talent wedge through the
other’s shields.

Both
pteridon and rider flared into blue flame — and once more, Dainyl’s pteridon
fed on some of the dispersing lifeforce. Dainyl checked his altitude — more
than a thousand yards aboveground so far.

A
skylance bolt slammed into his shields from behind.

Dainyl
darted a glance back. Another pteridon was diving directly toward him.

Dainyl
sent a command — and an image. Straight up, over... and down. The image was a
loop that would bring him and the pteridon above and behind the attacker, above
because of the climb, and behind because the maneuver essentially stopped
nearly all forward motion for a moment. It took more lifeforce and Talent, but
Dainyl’s pteridon had that to spare.

The
attacker never saw the bolt that blew him out of the sky — and destroyed his
pteridon.

Another
Ifryn Myrmidon came out of a wingover headed for the shoulder of Dainyl’s
pteridon, a position from which Dainyl could not turn enough to physically aim
the skylance at the attacker.

Dainyl
waited for several moments, using his shields to deflect the blue flames, until
the attacker was closer, then twisted the lance as far back as he could, then
triggered it, using his Talent to direct the energy through the other flier’s
shields. Blue flame exploded into the sky.

Climb!

The
pteridon responded immediately.

Within
moments, Dainyl was a good three hundred yards above the others — except for
one other pteridon, bearing the black and silver, which was a good hundred
yards even higher.

The
flier carried no skylance, but something different, a device that looked from a
distance like a short lance mounted on a light-rifle frame. Dainyl immediately
reinforced his shields, barely in time before a bluish purple beam slammed into
those shields, with enough force to lift both Dainyl and his pteridon slightly.

Hard
right, dive. Then left, climb, loop, and half roll! Dainyl followed with the
image of the maneuver.

Another
blast of bluish purple flared past Dainyl’s shoulder, but missed even his shields,
for which he was grateful. Then Dainyl and his pteridon were directly under the
silver and black flier, who had begun to bank westward.

Dainyl
corrected, and his pteridon came out of the roll, opening its half-furled
wings, directly above and behind the flier with the light-rifle lance.

Dive!
Dainyl wanted to be as close as possible, suspecting that the flier was
Talent-strong, but a comparatively inexperienced flier.

His
quarry tried to turn, twisting his body, only when Dainyl was less than thirty
yards away.

The
Talent-boosted skylance bolt slammed into the modified weapon.

Hard
left!

From
the force of the explosion from the weapon, so violent that it obliterated both
rider and pteridon, Dainyl’s pteridon went through an unscheduled roll, losing
at least five hundred yards of altitude before recovering. Dainyl barely
managed to hang on to the skylance, and his stomach was in his throat by the
time the pteridon was level, heading toward yet another hostile pteridon.

Dainyl’s
Talent-boosted lance bolt took out both flier and pteridon.