Chapter 10
CHAPTER
TEN
“At least we now have a timeframe,” Garran said. “Thanks for that.”
The Rayabar snarled. Gisele didn’t repeat his words, but she didn’t really need to.
“We can translate no more,” she said, weariness etching her voice. “We must go and rest.”
She caught the old man’s arm, steadying him as he stepped down from the ladder. He looked thinner and older than he had when he arrived, and it made me wonder if he was actually elderly, or if his appearance was simply a result of using his translating magic.
I pushed away from the doorframe and stepped back, giving Garran and Damon room to exit.
Gisele picked up the ladder, then guided the old man around the still-growling Rayabar.
Once we were all clear, the door was winched back into place, the Rayabar’s words dying midsentence as the stone dropped into place.
Damon glanced at Garran. “What do you want me to do with him? Keep him bound, or release him?”
“I’d rather he be killed but?—”
“Which I can’t do magically unless in self-defense,” Damon cut in. “But he remains bound, and it would be easy enough for you to dispose of him the old-fashioned way.”
“Tempting, but, as I was about to say, it’s probably best we don’t visit death on him just yet, as we may yet need more answers from him.”
“A quick death is not what they would give any of us in a similar situation,” I commented. “It only seems only fair we return the favor and let him rot.”
He glanced at me, amusement gleaming in his eyes. “I do like your thinking, cousin. Damon, release him. Tarlin, Jon, could you help Herron up the stairs?”
As Damon undid the rest of his spell, Garran’s two guards linked their arms, swept the old man up, and quickly ascended.
Gisele followed at a more sedate pace, as did we.
None of us spoke—not until we were clear of the stairwell and out in fresh air again.
I drew in a deeper breath to erase the Rayabar’s stench from my nostrils, but it seemed to linger on my clothes.
While the old man was whisked away to the medical center, we continued on to the palace steps and then into the war room. Once both Neera and Jarin—who apparently never slept—had been updated, Garran said, “Suggestions for our next step?”
“Surely our first attack point has to be the fog and the weapons it conceals,” I immediately replied.
“We have no idea how many mages there are, or whether they are simply Mareritt or include the riders’ mages.
Better to kill them all now and destroy their acid supply in the process, while we still can. ”
“Our earth mages have reinforced over ninety per cent of the front wall, so the acid should not effect it,” Jarin said. “And their mages—be they Mareritt or rider—are less of an immediate threat, given the speed at which they’re currently progressing.”
“That doesn’t counter the fact we cannot afford to let them get close.
The riders’ mages tried bringing down the entire mountain on the Jakarran refugees, and they came really close to succeeding.
” Which was a bit of an exaggeration but still relevant, given they probably would have succeeded if they’d had more mages there.
“If they use the same magic here, they could easily bring down our walls, given our mages will be too exhausted to counter. Besides, the acid still burns us and the drakkons. The less they have of it, the better.”
“What’s the fog’s reported position currently?” Damon asked.
Neera pointed to a location midway between the Ghost Forest and the Mareritten encampment, several miles east of the Igna River. “If they do have wagons filled with tubs of the acid, then it’s likely their pace is due to its volatility.”
“That is a presumption we cannot rely on,” Garran said. “We also cannot discount the possibility that it is another trap to lure Bryn and her drakkons out.”
No, we definitely couldn’t, but that didn’t alter the nagging suspicion that the Rayabar hadn’t told us everything the fog had concealed.
I crossed my arms and lightly rubbed them.
“Then we don’t attack from either Esan’s direction or the aeries.
We come at them from an entirely unexpected direction. ”
“Given the rider occupation on the Sheer, the only other viable option is looping behind Esan and over the Blue Steel Mountains,” Damon said.
“That not only adds a lot of hours to your flight time but means flying over a good stretch of Mareritten; it gives their scouts ample time to see and report your position.”
“Only if they actually see us.” I glanced at him. “We keep high enough, they shouldn’t.”
“A burnished gold drakkon against blue skies is rather hard to miss,” he growled. “Especially when said drakkon is Kaia’s size.”
“Then we make sure there are no blue skies.”
“Our mages are not miracle workers, Commander,” Jarin said. “There is a limit to what they can achieve. Perhaps if we had more to hand, it would be possible to cover half a continent with foul weather, but we do not.”
“Then we risk flight without cover and pray Túxn is with us on the day.”
“I’d rather not risk losing another family member to a goddess’s goodwill,” Garran snapped. “As much as I agree that the mages are a threat, I think the riders remain the bigger one. We need to take care of their reinforcements before we worry about the Mareritt and the mages.”
“We’ve only eight drakkons, Garran,” I said. “That is not enough?—”
“It is if the smiths and the alchemists have refined the new spray and constructed a viable means of using it.” He glanced across the placement board. “Jarin, has Franklyn sent in a report yet? Did he not promise an update by today?”
“He did, Commander. With your permission, I’ll message him now.”
Garran nodded, then walked over to the map we’d attached to the wall. “The Rayabar said the barges’ new position was an hour northeast of the Sheer. That should put them somewhere around this area.”
He stepped forward and circled an area underneath what was simply designated Ice Shelf on the map. Our ships hadn’t sailed in that direction in eons, so whether the shelf gave way to more hospitable lands was anyone’s guess.
“And they were originally building their main force here.” I circled the area where we’d encountered the barges. “Now, given the little we do know of the birds and their stamina, they’d have to keep the barges within flying distance from both Ezu and the Sheer. That would put them somewhere here.”
I circled a large area midway between the small chain of islands we’d retreated to after our barge attack and the Ice Shelf area.
“That’s a damnably large area to cover,” Neera commented. “It could take days, and if they see you coming?—”
“It would be better to attack the islands first,” Garran cut in. “We know they’re holding soldiers on Jakarra and using Ezu as a jumping-off point for the riders, so why not wipe out the reinforcements there first? With that done, we could then hit the barges?—”
“The location of which we have no clue. We could be flying uselessly about for days,” I growled. “Be reasonable, Garran.”
Annoyance briefly flared in his eyes. “If we hit the islands without hitting the barges, they could sweep in and overwhelm you. We have no idea what numbers remain on the Sheer or how many those barges currently hold, remember.”
“All the more reason for not attempting to hit all three at the same time,” I bit back in the same tone. “It spreads us too thin and leaves Esan without drakkon protection.”
“But not un protected. You forget the air mages.” His gaze switched to Damon. “And you and the Prioress can shield the fortress if necessary, can’t you?”
“Within reason, and not for long.”
“Two extra drakkons still doesn’t give us the edge in numbers, Commander,” I snapped.
Garran’s gaze returned to mine, his expression flat and determined. “I’ll give way on the barges, but we still need to attack their forces on the islands if we’re to have any hope. Of the two threats we face, the riders remain the most dangerous. You know that; I know that.”
“I’m the one up there fucking fighting them, Garran, so yes, I’m well aware of the threat they present. But I’ve seen the mages in action multiple times now, and you have to trust me when I say their threat remains greater.”
But even as I said it, I knew there would be no dissuading him on this course of action.
“Commanders,” Neera said into the brief silence that followed. “At the present rate of progress, it will take at least three days for the mages under that fog to reach their encampment outside our gates. We have time to do both.”
I wasn’t so sure but sighed wearily and rubbed my temples. “Fine. We do it your way.”
Amusement flared briefly in Garran’s eyes. He knew, as I knew, that in the end the decision was his to make, not mine. He was king and grand commander, not me.
“Jarin,” he immediately said, “what say the smiths?”
The older man glanced up, though the quill was still moving. “The liquid successfully burns through both feathers and armor, but they haven’t yet perfected a means of spraying it.”
“Why not use tubes, like the riders and now the Mareritt do?” I asked.
“They want something that can be used by not only the military but also upon drakkon back. The liquid remains volatile, and the tubes are not precise enough, given the length of our drakkons and the span of their wings.”
And the last thing any of us wanted was the liquid blowing up drakkons rather than our enemies. “How much of the liquid have they got?”
Jarin relayed the question and, after a few seconds, said, “Five barrels.”
“How fast can they make more?”
Another pause. “Not very. The stuff is, as they said, volatile. They would not in general recommend its use except in extreme circumstances.”
“Can they make the barrels transportable?”
Another beat. “Yes.”