Whispers of the Skyborne (Devices of War Book 3) (52 page)

Neira looked up from her desk with a sigh, then returned her attention to the stack of papers before her. “What is it?”

Skah pushed off the door and padded silently forward.

“Have you come to chastise me for entering a battle we were not meant to fight?”

“No,” Skah said softly. “I agree with the El’Asim.”

Neira set her quill down, her ebony eyebrows raised. She leaned back in her chair and folded her arms over her chest. “That is not something I ever thought to hear from you.”

Skah stepped around the desk and perched on the edge of it. “Nor I, but there it is all the same.”

Neira unfurled her arms and dropped her hand to the armrest.

Skah propped one leather-bound foot on the chair beside Neira’s leg.

Neira trailed her fingertips along the bootlaces.

“How are you?” Skah asked, asking about Taileh, but leaving it open for topic diversion in case that was needed.

Neira remained silent for a long moment before she answered. “How should I be? I loved her.”

Licking her lips, Skah bowed her head.

“I know you love me.” Neira closed her eyes, pointing her face away. “I do.”

“But?”

“But.” Neira shook her head and opened her eyes. “I don’t think I can do it again. Love again.”

“I will never betray you.”

Neira’s dark gaze roved over Skah’s face. “I hadn’t believed she would either.”

“We all saw it.”

“I,” Neira whispered, “did not.”

Skah folded her fingers between her legs and stared out the opaque
lethara
curtain. Blue. Only blue.

“How did you see, Skah? How? She said the programmer, the bad one, threatened her family.”

Skah shook her head. “The way she acted. She just seemed off.”

“How did I not see that?”

“She hid it from you.” Skah bit down on what she really wanted to say. “I don’t think she wanted to hurt you, didn’t want to drag you into her business.”

“But she did.”

“Yes.” Skah gripped her fingers tight together between her legs, keeping her face as devoid of her real, boiling emotion as possible. “I think the situation grew bigger than she was able to handle it. She was in over her head.”

Neira withdrew her fingers from Skah’s bootlaces. “You would do well to find another.”

“And if I cannot? If you are the only one I care to give my love to?”

“I beg you to find another.” Neira shooed her off the desk. “I have work to do before we enter into a war that is not ours. You are dismissed.”

Skah swallowed the hurt, her pride. She rose from the desk and stalked to the door. She stopped, her hand on the knob and rested her forehead against the door. “You’re an idiot. You know that.”

Silence answered her.

She opened the door and stepped through.

“Yes,” Neira said just loud enough for Skah to hear. “I do.”

Haji finished the repairs to his skitter unit and wiped his hands on a rag. They weren’t true repairs. Yes. He’d taken some damage in the blast at Peacock Rock, but he’d wanted to incorporate some of the design modifications from the Han’s units, mainly, the pleron panels. They were impenetrable to the bullet guns and Synn’s lava had been unable to melt them. His skitter looked like a speckled lizard, some of the panels in the original black pleron, other panels in key locations in the shiny silver of the Han’s panels.

Rashidi sat on a crate refitting his bag for about the fifth or sixth time.

Dropping his rag onto a pile of parts, Haji walked over to Rashidi and sat beside him.

Flashing a smile at him, Rashidi returned to his work.

“How many times are you going to repack that?”

Rashidi shrugged. “Until we’re ready for war. I have nothing else to do.”

“Is the rest of your crew prepared?”

He flattened his lips and nodded, looking up.

Haji watched his crew putter around the wide bay, doing what they had to.

“Will we ever have a home again?”

Startled, Haji glanced at Rashidi before returning his attention back to the bay.

“I mean, the Han took our home. And now we find out that our family, our tribe, had only taken those islands to mine a metal we barely use. And now we fight to defend someone else’s lands. When will we have a home of our own? Land we can call ours. Land we can dig our toes into and grow a family?”

Haji reached deep into his mind to recall what it felt like to
be
home. What had made it that?

His family. His friends.

The lands had simply been that. Land.

“What do you want in a home, Rash?”

The other man shook his head, his lips quirked. “I want to smell the rain in the earth. I want to touch the leaves of my crops. I want to eat the wealth I grow. I want a roof that does not change.”

Haji straightened his kinked back, letting his friend’s words flow through him.

“I want a wife. I want a place that is safe to raise a family.”

How did he answer those wishes? Haji didn’t know. Everything was so uncertain.

“Tell me we will have a home one day.”

If they survived this, but for that to happen, they’d have to find land that wasn’t already claimed, or land that could be reclaimed. That wasn’t going to be easy.

Rashidi bowed his head, removing the contents of his bag once again. “Or don’t.”

“We will,” Haji said softly. “Somehow. We will.”

Rashidi met his gaze, then turned it to the rest of their people in the bay.

Life would never be what it once was, but they
could
rebuild a new life, a different one, perhaps better. They
could.

They simply had to
make
it happen.

Rose refitted her plane with bullet guns. All the lightning cartridges had been emptied and she hadn’t found another cache of them anywhere on the
Najmah
. Even though it was built to resemble the
Layal
, this ship was foreign to her. She longed to be back on the
Layal,
back with Jamilah and Synn.

But she was the new Lt. Colonel of the planes now. Everyone was looking to her, and the Lt. Colonel flew from the
Najmah
.

Jake propped his shoulder on the nose of
Wise Girl
and gave Rose a frank look, his eyebrows raised, his lips quirked.

She ignored him, rigging a second rack of ammunition. All she needed was a switch to set them once the first rack was emptied. She could rig that. It wouldn’t be perfect, but it would work.

Strong fingers grasped her arm. They didn’t threaten.

She sighed and turned. “What?”

Jake pulled her toward him, cupping the back of her head in one hand. His lips hovered over hers.

She froze, one hand gripping the cool, metal wrench.

His blue eyes studied hers.

She stood there, breathing his breath, feeling the warmth he offered. She didn’t want to close the distance. She didn’t want to place her lips on his. Her empty hand settled on his chest, not pushing him away, but not allowing him closer.

He brought her head to his chest and wrapped his other arm around her shoulders. “I know you think that this, you and I, is a sign of weakness.”

Honestly, she hadn’t thought much about it. He had. That much was obvious, but she’d been working so hard on her planes that she hadn’t even thought about the prospect of romance. She wasn’t even entirely sure what kind of signals she’d given him that would make him think there might
be
anything between them.

But she enjoyed the closeness. She enjoyed being able to talk to him, and she wasn’t going to deny that.

She should step away, but something deep within her needed the warmth. Not the love of a man, or the passion she could feel in his arms. She simply needed the connection to another human being.

Up in the air, she would be alone in her cockpit, the voices of her pilots in her ear. She would see them fly. She would see them fall to their deaths. Alone.

“One day,” he said, pulling away, “you’re going to realize we
are
stronger when we let others in.”

She hadn’t seen that, not in her lifetime.

He stooped to press his forehead to hers. “I don’t know what Nix had on you before, but you’re here now. And after this, we’ll be safe. Safe enough to live.”

She flinched and pulled away. They would never be
safe.
And live? What did that mean?

He flicked his eyebrows and backed up several steps. He picked up a button switch off the crate as he passed it and tossed it to her. “You’ll see, Rose. Trust me.”

She caught the small box and shook her head, turning back to her task. She didn’t see how any of that was possible.

That was a long shot. They’d have to survive first. And that was a long chance of luck.

Keeley put the finishing touches on the med station beside the last line of cots.

Talking to Synn had gone better than she’d expected. She’d thought he’d push.

He hadn’t.

Part of her wished he had, but the other part, the part that knew her better, was thankful he hadn’t.

She kind of wished she were on his ship. She knew him. Even if he scared her with his Mark, his power, she also knew she’d be safe with him. She didn’t know much about Qamar, their new commander, but the woman looked as though she’d survived more than one battle on her own.

So, Keeley would be safe.

The rest of the “medics” Carson had gathered had been brought to Qamar’s
Karida.
Carson’s plan was to have a field medical unit close to the battle so that when people were wounded, they wouldn’t have to travel far to get medical attention. Eventually, he wanted a medical unit on every ship and
letharan
city, but they needed to train people in order to make that happen. They needed to open a school.

They had to survive first.

Being on the
Karida
meant they would be in the middle of the battle.

How many lives could they save if they were blasted out of the sky?

Keeley grabbed the table next to her and gulped air, fighting with her mind, which seemed perfectly content to play out horrible situations that made her heart race even faster.

The
Karida
being hit, falling through the air, the land hundreds of kilometres below them.

Bullets piercing the hull and lancing the people within the bay seeking medical attention.

Lava.

Lightning.

Bombs.

Strong hands grasped her shoulders and attempted to work the tension from them.

She released the imagery, her fear along with them. Well, not completely. Her stomach twisted with the unvoiced terror. Her hands shook at the all too real possibility that she would die by shell or bullet or lightning or lava or falling.

Carson sighed and turned her around. “You
are
strong, lass. You’re simply the only one who refuses ta believe it.”

She listened to the reassuring cadence of Carson’s tenor lilt. He reminded her of home, when things were simpler, when she was safe.

Safe. Such a ridiculous word. She pulled out of his arms.

He grasped her hands and captured her gaze. “I believe in you, you daft woman. And one day, one day vera soon, you’ll believe in ye’self as well.”

If only she could somehow free herself of this overwhelming mountain of fear lodged in her chest.