Whispers of the Skyborne (Devices of War Book 3) (40 page)

Chie had disappeared with Hitoshi, and I hoped she was going after the nanites. All I had to do was keep my mother—the enemy programmer occupied long enough for them to do what had to be done.

But what was I supposed to do with Nix?

She looked at me and widened her eyes, jutting her head forward a little, her hands wide.

What did that even mean?

“Who am I talking to?” I demanded.

The programmer jerked, my mother’s gaze flitting around the room.

Had he noticed Nix?

“Who am I talking to?” I demanded again, louder this time.

“You seem to know a lot more than you should. Who do you think you’re speaking with?”

“The programmer.”

He raised my mother’s eyebrow, returning his full attention to me. “And what do you know about me?”

“That you intend on killing us.”

The programmer smiled and chuckled softly. “Well, well, you have been getting quite a story, haven’t you?”

I raised my chin. If I had control over my Mark, I could call upon it and smite her where she stood. No. I would kill my mother. The programmer was somewhere else.

But he had used her to destroy my tribe. If I could remove one of his game pieces, a key game piece, then maybe I could gain an advantage, one that might buy us more time to end this war once and for all.

I reached for my Mark before I realized what I was doing.

It rose, but differently.

Nix’s Mark rose from her shoulders, underneath her clothing, and swayed above her head like two dueling cobras.

My Mark slid out from underneath my clothes, from my collar, my cuffs, and somehow, it managed to find a path through the tops of my boots. It oozed like molten lava crawling over obstacles.

But my clothes remained intact.

The programmer stared at me, eyes wide.

I widened my arms, orange mist rising around me. The air grew thick with humidity. I could barely breathe. I was lifted off my feet.

Nix floated behind my mother, her brown eyes wide, her head thrown back, her arms open.

I fought to breathe, struggled to determine what I was supposed to do.

I straightened, my head rising. I knew exactly what I was supposed to do. I needed to crack his code. I needed to override his program. I needed to destroy his nanite technology.

But with this information came other bits. Star maps. Knowledge on how our solar system worked. Where we were in the galaxy. Where our galaxy was in the universe.

Where their planet was.

Gathering up every ounce of will I had, I pushed my Mark forward. It enveloped first my mother’s feet, then rose in liquefied waves up her legs. Mist rose around her, but she didn’t cry out.

The programmer stared at me, the muscles in my mother’s neck standing out as he fought me.

No. Fought Bob.

I could feel him. Another presence in my mind. He wasn’t using me as much as he was leaning out of the window of my mind and tapping into my mother’s.

She wouldn’t survive this.

I didn’t care.

I provided the power he needed to finish what he was doing. I stopped trying to follow him. I couldn’t keep up. Couldn’t understand anything he did. Programs. Code. The words sounded familiar, but the context were beyond me.

Nix released a gasp and floated to the floor. She collapsed, her eyes closed.

I hung there, waiting for Bob to complete what he needed to do.

My Mark traveled up to my mother’s neck. The programmer continued to stare out at me.

And then, as if flipped off with a switch, he was gone.

My mother stared at me, her eyes filled with knowing and acceptance. She nodded once and whispered in Adelic, “Finish this.”

Bob’s presence disappeared, his job done. At least, I hoped it was.

My feet found the floor. My Mark retreated back to my flesh, still without destroying my clothes.

Mother drooped to the floor. Her skin should have been charred, but it wasn’t. She’d been healed.

But she was beaten.

I knelt beside her, leaning one arm over my knee. “You killed Zara. You killed Oki. You nearly killed Ryo. My tribe? Who else? And for what?”

“It was the only way,” she whispered, her voice strangled and bitter. “To keep us safe.”

I ground my jaw and bowed my head. “Killing us kept us safe?”

“Killing a few.”

“You murdered thousands!”

“A few.” She raised her hand to grip mine. “To save hundreds of thousands.”

I shook my head and stood. She didn’t know, then, that her programmer was going to kill us all. “There are better ways.”

She closed her eyes. “I hope you find them.”

Blinking, I stepped back. Now was the time to kill her. I could end her life, and there was no one and nothing stopping me.

But she was defenseless. I couldn’t kill her, even with as much horror as she’d caused in our lives. I couldn’t.

Raking my lip with my teeth, I turned to Nix and scooped her up in my arms.

My mother grunted behind me.

I turned.

She cradled the handle of a knife she had stabbed into her chest. Blood tricked from the corner of her mouth. She slid all the way to the floor, as her eyes fluttered closed.

A part of me felt relief. Another part of me felt guilt for feeling relief.

Swallowing, I carried Nix out of Ino City to the sounds of the city falling apart all around us.

A symphony if ever I heard one.

The old ways were done.

We couldn’t go back. Not now.

Najmah: Rose

“C
APTAIN!”

Rose jerked her head up, searching the docks for the person who’d spoken. The
Najmah
continued to rock with the shelling going on around her, though, through some miracle, there had been no direct hits. At least, she didn’t think so.

A young woman in the coveralls of a mechanic ran to her, her braids bouncing with each step. She waved to Rose, her dirtied face folded in panic. “Captain!”

Rose stood and met the woman part way. “What’s wrong?”

“Bennen, sir.” The woman stopped, her chest heaving. “He’s down.”

Rose’s heart stopped.

“He’s down,” the woman repeated, her eyes unfocused as if she was having a hard time believing the truth of her own words. “They need you.”

Blinking, Rose turned to Jake.

He lowered his gaze, but tugged his flight cap out of his back pocket. Putting it on, he shrugged. “We all know it’s going to happen one day, Captain. Today was just his day.”

Rose turned to the mechanic. “Do you know how many he lost?”

“Eight,” she whispered back, her voice curdled with emotion.

Eight out of three dozen. What more could her squadron offer?

Bennen had preferred the still wing and hadn’t incorporated the copper lacework onto all his planes because it added too much weight. He’d opted to install more weapons instead.

Meaning, his planes had been vulnerable to lightning guns. “I’ll need the
Najmah’s
communication channel.”

“Of course. I’ll switch you.” The mechanic spun and raced off, flagging down a few of her fellow compatriots.

Rose stalked to where the rest of her pilots sat, everyone except for Rich who sat by himself. He normally did. “Listen up.”

Everyone looked up at her. Even Rich, who wasn’t that far away, turned to her.

“Lt. Colonel Bennen has been shot down along with seven of his men. We’re being called out.”

“That’s a lot of fire power lost,” Ethel said, glancing at Doris.

Doris shrugged. “We’ve seen our share of shit, sir. We get called out, I say let’s go.”

Rose wasn’t sure why people were starting to call her “sir.” She’d always thought that was a term for a male leader. “I know you’re all capable, but I need you to do one more thing for me.”

Reuben’s thick brows furrowed together. “You’re not going to get all sentimental on us, are you, Cap?”

She raised her eyebrow. “And if I did?”

The corners of his mouth turned down as he shrugged.

“That’s what I thought. Shut it.” She took in a deep breath. “The storm. We’ve never engaged the enemy or run maneuvers this close to a storm like this. You keep your enemy in your sights, but you keep the storm in your purview.”

“Aye, aye, Captain!” Bettie said, saluting. She turned and headed for her plane without anything further being said.

The rest followed.

Rose watched them all leave, wondering which of them she’d never see again.

Ryo sighted down the barrel of his cannon, calculating the distance between him and the Shankara
lethara.
The seas raged around it, his tentacles working constantly to keep his city contained and safe. Nearly within range.

Ryo should have felt…something at the thought of destroying a living creature like the
lethara
. The
lethara
was a peaceful creature, intent on only one thing; keeping his city shielded. It wasn’t his fault those who resided within his tentacles were evil.

There was no way to use his cannons, or any of his weapons and not obliterate it, killing all who resided within the tentacles.

The rage that fueled him left little room for compassion.

Would his mother have shown such compassion? No. She’d proven that.

A concussion rocked them.

They were close. Not close enough.

The
Basilah
was low enough to the ground for Ryo to see patches of detail in the low light. Beneath his feet, he could see individual trees laid down in wide swaths, people in the uniform of the Han with their leather armored chest plates and their skirts littering the earth along with the trees.

A few other bodies littered the area with them, no uniforms. Simple leather and patches.

The Shankara were taking out more of their allies than their enemy.

Ryo couldn’t see the Paha caves. He knew the tribes. He didn’t know the terrain. The only bodies he could see were dead ones. The living—if there were any—had to be hiding in the beneath the thick canopy.

They flew past the coastline and into the ocean bay, Shankara’s
lethara
growing bigger as they came closer. Each level of the city sharpened into focus. There were three large cannons on middle decks. If they could just get close enough to be within range without getting shot out of the sky, he could take those cannons out.

A flash of orange lit the eighth floor, followed by a puff of smoke.

“Shields!”

Something shiny, but see-through shimmered over the glass dome.

The shell hit the shield at the nose of the command dome and bounced back.

The
Basilah
shook with a ringing sound Ryo hadn’t even known it was capable of. Synn had designed the shield. Out of what, Ryo didn’t know and really didn’t care about. All that mattered was that it worked and they were still flying.

“Cannons!” Ryo waited for the shield to drop. The cannons at the rear began their own assault as soon as the shield was out of their way. He waited for the shimmer to retreat from around his cannon, sighted. Almost. Almost.

Finally! He fired.

The
lethara
writhed as lightning, lava, and cannon balls attacked his delicate and fragile skin. His tentacles flailed. Planks of city platforms rose and sank.