The Children of the Sky (84 page)

Both airships had shut down their engines. Nevil was into a pregnant pause. The moment captured Ravna as much as anyone. Down by her ankles, even Ritl had fallen silent. The loudest sound was the breeze whistling up the valley.

Behind the port, there was a squeaking sound, the hatch wheel being turned. Ravna stepped to one side, finally got a sliver of a good view. The hull section swung out, dropping the main stairway down.

“So what’s inside?” Flenser hissed at her.

“It’s too dark for me to see,” said Ravna. The entrance was in the shadow of the overhanging hull.

Woodcarver’s voice came over the link. “
Oobii
did something with the image. There’s at least a singleton crouched at the top of the stairs.”

Somebody was pushing at Ravna’s side, licking her hand. Ritl! “What? Are you crazy?” Ravna said to the animal. “Go run! See for yourself.” Why was Ritl suddenly so shy? She was making desperate little whistling noises. In a way, that was more distracting than her usual bitching. “Okay,” said Ravna, “but you better not slash me.” She reached under Ritl’s forelegs and hoisted the creature up the way the Children lifted their Best Friend’s puppies. Of course there was a problem since Ritl was an average-sized female adult. Ravna staggered back a step, then recovered. At least the creature didn’t try to hold on with her claws, but now Ravna was facing into lots of pointy teeth and the usual bad breath. Then Ritl twisted her head around to look at the airship.

For a moment Ritl was as quiet as everyone else, watching the space at the top of the stairs. Then the singleton that Woodcarver reported came sauntering out. No wonder it had been hard to see. It wore a cloak of midnight black. The radio cloak’s golden highlights were mostly lost in the shade.

The singleton was Zek. He looked a lot better than the last time Ravna had seen him. Zek glanced around with an alertness and self-possession that must mean he had good connectivity. He nodded in Nevil’s direction and boomed out the words, “I speak for Tycoon.” His voice was not Tycoon’s frightened little girl’s voice. It actually sounded like one of Amdi’s voices, the kind he used when he was pretending to be an adult human, someone serious and important.

Nevil gave a little start of surprise, but his response seemed as confident as ever: “As we agreed, sir, I have brought humans and packs from the Domain. Today we can settle many of the issues that poisoned their minds in the past. Have you brought those you rescued from the wild?”

“Indeed.” Zek’s head gave a jerky nod that might have been part of a cynical smile. “My employer has sent me with all the humans and Domainish Tines that we
rescued
on your behalf.”

Zek stepped to the side, giving way to whatever was behind him. Ravna noticed that Nevil was urging Elspa forward so she would be at the foot of the stairs and visible to all his cameras.

A small human figure appeared at the top of the stairs. Elspa gave a cry and started forward. But this wasn’t Geri Latterby. It was Timor Ristling, who even at fourteen was almost as short as Geri. He gave Elspa a little wave and smiled, maybe not understanding the disappointment in Elspa’s face. He turned back into the darkened hallway and made coaxing gestures. After a moment, someone as small as he was took his hand. The face that peered out at them was as pale as any Straumer’s face could ever be.

“Geri!”
Elspa ran up the steps, sweeping her little sister into her arms. She teetered for an instant at the top, then came down a few steps to lean against the top rungs with her knee. For a moment, she just rocked the child in her arms and wept. Geri herself was much quieter. She seemed to be reaching back toward Timor, and after a moment Elspa brought the boy into her embrace.

As Elspa and the little ones came down the steps, the crowd jostled close, Nevil’s camera crew at the fore. Ravna felt Ritl tense, buzzing.
She
was still looking at the top of the stairs. The only thing there was Zek—but now the creature was looking past the crowd, directly at Ravna. Or Ritl. The singleton exploded out of Ravna’s arms and raced into the crowd.
Crazy animal!
Or maybe Ritl had somehow concluded that Amdi was here and about to be released.

Ravna had had enough of standing back here. She touched Flenser’s White Tips and said, “I’m going to get closer.”

None of Flenser looked her way, but the pack replied, “That’s fine. Check out Geri. I don’t think she qualifies as a propaganda coup for Nevil.”

Three packs came out of the ship. Two were city guards who had been missing since before the first kidnappings. They were battered and scarred, though their injuries were mostly healed. The third was a fragment, all that remained of Edvi Verring’s Best Friend Dumpster. There was angry muttering from Benky’s troops on seeing all this evidence of mistreatment.

Some of Tycoon’s packs had descended from the other airship. They looked like soldiers, but they kept their distance. Zek was the only crewmember who appeared from the first craft. He kept to his place at the top of the stairs; he wasn’t saying much, mainly just ushering each prisoner out the door. Nevil did the talking. It took all his skill to spin this to his advantage.

Ravna worked her way through the crowd toward the little hillock where Elspa was sitting.

“Ravna!” Timor saw her and hobbled quickly in her direction. Ravna gave him a hug. Timor was talking fast and enthusiastically. “I was so worried about you, Ravna! We were mostly kept in our dungeons, but Tycoon said that—” He stopped himself as if he shouldn’t be saying more, or perhaps he thought Ravna wasn’t paying attention.

But I was paying attention.
Ravna leaned away and brushed his hair into place. His face lit up with the smile she remembered.

Timor drew her over to where Elspa sat with Geri on her lap. Magda and Lisl were on their knees beside her, ignoring the continuing hubbub by the airship’s stairs.

Elspa Latterby sat with her head bowed, almost curled around her baby sister. Kneeling beside her on the soaking grass, Ravna looked at the little girl. Geri Latterby had been such a happy kid, but ever since Ravna had heard her frightened voice coming out of Tycoon, Ravna’s fears for the girl had grown.

Geri was not crying. Her expression was distant. She scarcely reacted to her sister’s touch. But even though Geri didn’t speak, Ravna could see. Two fingers were missing from Geri’s right hand. Her left arm lay at a strange angle. She was dressed in a clean, warm robe … that didn’t quite cover the scars on her neck.

“She’s been tortured,” said Magda. She looked like she was chewing on glass. “Tycoon must pay for this.”

“No!” said Timor. “The big guy only helped her—” but the Children didn’t seem to be listening, and he shut up.

Nevil Storherte was circulating, mainly among the Deniers. His camera gang was split between tracking him and watching the airship entrance. Giske was nowhere in sight, but Ravna noticed that Jefri and Øvin were closing in on the Chief Denier. If this was the end of the releases, there was going to be trouble.

“S’cuse me, s’cuse me,” she said, working her way through the crowd around Nevil. Meantime, she muttered to her remote link: “Is this all the people we’re getting?” The airship’s hatch was still open, but Zek had disappeared from his post on the stairs.

Woodcarver’s voice came back: “That could be … but hold off for now. The smart thing is to see how Nevil tries to explain the missing prisoners,
then
decide on the proper action.”

“I don’t think that’s an option. Both Jefri and Øvin are going to start pounding on Nevil.”

In any case, Nevil had noticed her approach. He waved in her direction. “Hei, folks, please let Ravna Bergsndot through.”

Okay, for sure she was being set up.
So be it.
She nodded as casually as she could, and stepped into the open space in front of Nevil.

Nevil’s smile was as gracious as the day when he ambushed her at the New Meeting Place—but this time Ravna was attacking: “Nevil, I’ve been talking to Elspa Latterby. That’s her sister Geri who came down the ramp first and—”

Storherte blinked, but she’d given him enough warning that he actually managed to interrupt her: “Yes, I asked Tycoon to have Geri brought down the very first.” His smile had morphed into sympathy and serious concern. “I’m afraid some Tines are insanely hostile toward humans. Some of them got to Geri before Tycoon could make a rescue.”

There was muttered gobbling among the Best Friends and Benky’s troops. Woodcarver’s voice sounded privately in Ravna’s ear: “I had to put up with a lot of this ‘insane hater’ talk while you were gone.” But the Deniers were nodding sympathetically. Even some loyalist Children seemed to accept Nevil’s point. And in fact, something like Nevil’s claim was true, though apparently Nevil had decided never to mention Vendacious.

“Okay,” said Ravna, “but we’re still missing at least three packs and five humans. What about Pilgrim? What about Johanna? Remember her? The woman who loved you enough to propose marriage. Are we going to see any of these people today?”

Nevil’s head rocked back a fraction and a certain “honest” indignation showed. “Whatever you may believe, I
don’t
control Tycoon. He’s my ally, and at least as honorable as your Woodcarver. You all know what that means.” He let the words hang, creating lies out of pregnant silence. Just an instant before Ravna recovered from her own stunned indignation, Nevil continued, “I think we were all at the meeting on the Meadows. That did not turn out well. Sometimes a past wrong is so terrible that a person can’t think straight. I think that’s what happened to Tycoon that day. We’re not going to get Johanna back today. Tycoon claims she’s alive, but I’m not sure we’ll ever get her back.” He looked around imploringly. “And if we do get Jo back, then it would be up to
us
to judge her. I—I don’t think I could do that.”

Mr. Radio—the Zek end of him—was back at the top of the stairs, no doubt transmitting every syllable back to the Tropics. Zek’s gaze flickered back and forth between Ravna and Nevil.

Ravna gave the singleton a glare, but her main attention stayed on Nevil: “Your lies are piled so deep, I don’t know where to start shovelling. Woodcarver is
not
like Tycoon. Understand this, both you and Tycoon: Having peace with us means getting Johanna back. In the meantime, what about the others? Or do you claim they’re criminals, too?”

“Yeah! What about Edvi?” That from Øvin Verring.

Magda Norasndot shouted, “And what about my sister’s family?”

Nevil raised his hands. “Look, we didn’t receive a good accounting till just after today’s landing. Tycoon understands your point as well as anyone. He wants justice, too—but not all our missing friends were ever held by him. He knows nothing of Pilgrim. He has searched the wilderness and the Tropics, used all his contacts. Tycoon found Øvin’s cousin, but too late to rescue him. Edvi’s remains are aboard the airship. As for Jana and Basl Norasndot and their baby Kim—no sign of them was found anywhere. I’m so sorry, Magda.” There were no glib condolences for Øvin. Maybe Nevil realized that any such might cause an explosion.

Magda had turned away as Nevil spoke. She was staring into the distance, maybe believing. The Norasndots had been missing well before the kidnappings. The two young parents had chosen to travel with a small trading group all the way to Woodcarver’s old capital, through wilderness that was known to contain weasel nests. Their party had never arrived. Rescuers had found the remains of a weasel ambush, but no human bodies.

“So then, what about the
packs
that we
know
Tycoon is holding?” That was Jefri! Somehow he had slipped past the Deniers to stand next to Nevil. Jef had his left arm draped across Nevil’s shoulders. It might have been a gesture of bonhomie—Jef was smiling—but Ravna could see that his hand was dug into Nevil’s shoulder, and Jefri’s other hand was holding something under his jacket.

Merto Yngva and his friends started forward, their hands slipping into the sling bags they carried. Every faction here was armed, but so far no one had been waving around their guns. Nevil gave Merto and company a strangled grin. “It’s okay, guys.” His smile stabilized as he looked at Jefri. “Hei, Jef. I think you’ve had firsthand experience with Tycoon. He can be obsessive, true?”

Jefri must have tightened his grip, because Nevil gave a little gasp. Now
that
was the properly eloquent way to respond to Nevil! Storherte continued, his voice strained. “Tycoon has been releasing folks in approximately the reverse order of captivity, the most needy first. Okay?”

Jefri shrugged. “I’m still waiting for results,” he said.

“Well, this chitchat is just delaying the final releases.” Nevil turned his head toward Zek. “Bring us the two remaining packs.”

Zek disappeared from sight. A moment later, a pack member poked its snout into view. It came bouncing down the stairs, followed by three of its fellows. The pack’s cloaks covered most its body, but she recognized Remnant Screwfloss—even down to the bodypaint disguise.

Certainly Flenser-Tyrathect did too. From his place behind the crowd, he bellowed something painfully loud.
“
COMING THROUGH
!”
was what the sound meant, and even a naive human would get out of the way. With two of him pulling White Tips’ wheelbarrow, the pack really couldn’t run. It didn’t matter. Screwfloss came bouncing across the boggy grass, meeting his creator more than halfway. The two packs stopped a couple of meters apart, so close that coherent thought might be a problem. One of the remnant snuffled closer. It twisted its cape to lie down on the grass. Flenser came partway around it, almost reaching the others—and grooming the one it could touch.

“Are you getting this?” Ravna said to her remote link.

Woodcarver’s voice came back: “Yes. I don’t know what to think. I’m still pissed at Flenser for resurrecting Steel.” But Woodcarver sounded more sad than annoyed.

Jefri had eased up on Nevil. Jef’s smile didn’t have quite the deadliness of seconds before. “One more now,” he said.