Whispers of the Skyborne (Devices of War Book 3) (29 page)

In order for them to launch his main force, though, the storm would have to settle. The plows were steady with four large legs. They carried the heavy cannons with the Hands’ metal bullets. Covered in metal, or as much of it as he dared, they were his weapon of choice, though they were few. Too big. Too bulky. Too heavy. There wasn’t enough room for more than four of them.

No, in this fight, he’d have to rely mostly on his skitters, shield men, and his dragoons.

Where was Wynne and her unit, anyway? With a frown, he moved away from the bay doors and walked among the skittish skitters, searching.

Rashidi caught Haji’s gaze and raised his chin, moving his gaze pointedly at the ceiling.

Licking his lips, Haji looked up.

There was Wynne and her unit of seventeen dragoons. She put them through their paces, marching along the ceiling, testing out their dragonfly wing units strapped to their backs and their boots that allowed them to walk along the ceiling.

Haji tapped his ear and brought the mic to his mouth. “Wynne, come in.”

She didn’t immediately answer, but he saw her instructing one of her people. When she was done, she craned her neck to look at him two stories below. “Yes, commander.”

“Be careful not to poke too many holes the hull with your boots.”

“Admiral El’Asim has already briefed me on this, sir. He took your invention into mind when he designed this bay. We are safe as long as we stay in this location.”

Sometimes, Synn could surprise him. Outright stupid at times, but then at others, completely brilliant.

Haji returned to his post at the bay doors, listening to what little he could of his unit getting prepared. The storm dulled their noise, making him almost feel deaf. They needed more training. Not that he could blame Synn. For all he was an idiot, his best friend was an idiot trying to do the best he could in a deplorable situation.

Haji would lose people this day. He knew this. Which ones and how many? He didn’t know.

The
Layal
turned one more time and the island came into sight, a graying silhouette against a rising, blue sun. Bouts of fire lit the mountain side. Fire. In a storm like this.

He glanced at his skitter unit. He’d heard the Han had been on working on a fire that would sustain even in water and rain. Haji had to hope his preparations would keep his people safe long enough to do some damage. He’d already lost so much to the Han.

Everyone in this bay had. They’d all lost family. Friends. Lovers. Homes.

“Umira Nuru,” the communications officer said in Haji’s ear.

He touched his ear. “This is the Umira Nuru.”

“Prepare for landing, sir. It might be a bit bumpy.”

Haji headed for his rig. “Tell the El’Asim that the plows will have to remain behind due to the storm.”

She didn’t respond for a moment.

Haji climbed up the spindly legs of his skitter. He preferred speed over strength in a fight.

“The El’Asim says he will ensure you have a way to deploy the plows, sir. Are they prepared?”

He pulled himself into the seat and began to strap himself in, the sensors jabbing through his pants and leather socks. “They are. But how is he going to accomplish that in this storm?”

“Honestly, sir, I don’t know. I’m simply relaying orders.”

He sighed. “I know you are. Thank you, Wa-sna-win.”

As soon as he jabbed his arms into the two sleeves, the communication sensor inserted itself behind Haji’s left ear. The other sensors inserted themselves along his arms and hands. He stilled for a moment, his entire body tightening as he got used to the feel of it again. The legs were not nearly as bad as the upper body.

“Well, that looks like buckets of fun down there,” Fahd said over the communications link behind Haji’s left ear.

“You’re not scared, are you?” Mesi taunted, flexing all four of her arms, pulling her arsenal of guns from their holsters along her unit’s chest and waist, only to put them back.

Fahd snorted.

Jabr roared with laughter.

“Too bad,” Mesi said, “that you can’t join us, Briac. Storm like this, no way we can launch you.”

“However,” Haji interjected, “the El’Asim has stated we are deploying the plows, so Briac, you will be joining us. Are you ready?”

“Ready? Are you bloody nuts? We were born for the likes o’ this.”

Haji rolled his eyes. He’d grown up with Mesi, Fahd, and Jabr. They hadn’t necessarily been friends, but they had advanced together. Briac, though, and come to them from another tribe. Haji didn’t know the other man very well, but if he was half as good as he boasted, well, they’d be in for as much trouble as Briac could extoll.

Mesi lowered her voice as if that was going to make what she said more private on the open communications unit. “Does the El’Asim know what he’s doing, sir?”

How many times had Haji asked that same question?

“He is impulsive, doesn’t think things through, and never has a plan.” Mesi stilled the arms of her skitter unit, a lightning pistol in one hand. “He’s going to get us killed.”

Haji sighed. Synn hadn’t done a great deal to build the confidence in people as of late. Well, ever, really.

“He’s your best friend.” Mesi bowed her head. “Sir. Not mine.”

Haji walked his unit forward, working his arms to verify all was working properly. “Understand one thing.” He glanced out the bay doors, but saw nothing new. The island had disappeared yet again and only the retreating storm clouds and rolling ocean waves filled his view. He turned back to his people. “The El’Asim
is
my best friend.”

Briac walked is plow forward in three half-steps that made the galley floor tremble.

“But he, and he alone, had the courage to bring all of us together. And look at us. We were tribes with no home, people with no tribes. We are the orphans of our world, people that would have been otherwise forgotten.”

Mesi jutted her jaw to the side, her lips closed.

“He might not be the smartest person.” There was no harm in admitting that out loud. “But he is smarter than even he realizes. He surrounds himself with those who are smart when he is not, who think when he does not, who plan when he cannot.”

Wynne fluttered from the ceiling to the floor, her group following her lead.

“We are not safe. We are at war, a war that is finally being fought by two sides instead of inflicted upon one. We are finally fighting back. We are only doing this thanks to the courage of that one man. So call him whatever you like.” Haji turned back to the bay doors, checking his holsters for sticking. “That stupid man is giving you a chance to get your lives back.”

The chatter on the communications line didn’t pick back up.

Wa-sna-win spoke into his right ear. “Umira Nuru, prepare to launch.”

Enhnapi: Neira

“S
KAH,”
N
EIRA SAID, FLINGING
her rain cloak over her shoulders and tying it down with her belt. “Is the El’Asim in the air?”

A boy ran past, his arms full of arrows as he wormed his way through the press of warriors filling the docks.

Skah bowed her head, her blonde hair bound in tight braids. “Yes,
akicit.
”

Neira blew out a breath, her eyes narrowing at the strange placement of that word. Peacekeeper. Going to war. It didn’t sit right. “Will he be able to deploy the Umira Nuru?”

“He says he will.” Skah stepped out of the way as a man pushed politely past her. She raised an eyebrow. “I guess we’ll soon see if Synn has become a man.”

They were about to see if Neira had become a woman, as well. She’d defended Kiwidinok for many years, but had never launched an assault like this. She’d never really had the opportunity. She could thank Synn for that. Releasing a long breath, she studied the
letharan
curtain that was still firmly in place. Darkness was the only thing she could see on the other side of it. “I think he will surprise you,
cola
.”

“You hope.”

Neira tapped the heavy black device hanging from her ear. “Command, this is Neira.”

She was met with nothing for a moment, then Tokalu’s sweet voice met her ear. “Leader Neira? Is that you? I can barely hear you.”

Skah laughed and raised the mottled-silver bar attached to Neira’s earpiece up to her mouth. “Speak into that.”

“This is not going to work,” Neira said, exasperated.

“Ah, there you are, Leader Neira.” Tokalu’s voice brightened from the command center of Enhnapi. “I can hear you now.”

“Please inform Joshua Bahrain the next time he designs one of these things, to make it less of a hassle.”

Laughter bubbled into Neira’s ear. “I will do as you ask,
akicit.
Do you have orders?”

Straightening her shoulders, Neira nodded. “I need information. I hear the El’Asim has taken the air.”

“He has, Leader Neira, and he is making his approach to deploy the Umira Nuru now.”

The men and women on the Enhnapi docks fussed with straps and weapons, but with no real intent. Their scratched and patched leather armor was in place. Their leggings and braces were on, their weapons at the ready. They hadn’t become antsy yet. The enemy wasn’t in sight. But as soon as they were, Neira knew it would be difficult to hold them back.

“How is the storm?”

Tokalu paused. “It is passing. We should be seeing the last of it very soon.”

“Excellent. Has it passed enough for us to breach the beach?”

“Yes, Leader Neira. I believe it has. The waves will still be a bit forceful. I don’t understand the report, but I will say the El’Asim breached with no damage to his ship.”

That spoke for itself. “Then make it happen. Get to the beach and raise the curtain.”

The time for proving oneself was over. What awaited all of them was no test. This was life.

Or death.

Kiey stumbled at the entrance to the Rose Cavern. She should have gone directly to Garrett as Fitz had recommended, but the Han was coming through. She couldn’t. She stared in stupefied wonder at the twisting bit of metal that had punctured the cavern’s side. Dirt and rocks filtered from above as the ground shook. No one had stayed behind. Not a soul had frozen in fright or been stupid enough to stay and die.

Good.

Kiey coughed on the dirt clogging the air and retrieved two small red globs from her belt pouch. She placed one at the entrance as far above her head as she could reach. The red mess stuck to her fingers, threatening to retreat from the wall back into her hand. She worked her fingers free, careful not to think too long about what she touched. The excrement of a monkey mixed with the saliva of a local lizard. How anyone had thought to combine the two was beyond her comprehension, but it worked.

She moved to the other side of the tunnel, stepped onto a large boulder and repeated the process.

Finished, she scrambled behind the curve in the tunnel and waited.

The drill stopped.

Kiey’s ears rang with the sudden silence. Gradually, her hearing returned. Dust and rocks fell. The ground shifted. Men’s muffled voices carried from outside.

It didn’t take long before the drill was removed, slowly, steadily.

Kiey swallowed hard, her heart racing. She took out the water pistol from her sheath, primed it and plastered herself against the wall, listening.