Fantasy of Fire (The Tainted Accords Book 3) (5 page)

The rest of the morning passes quickly as Adox works tirelessly to make sure every group knows where they’re meant to be. Surprisingly, I’m approached almost as much to answer questions about equipment and, to my annoyance, the king of Glacium. I keep my information vague, though not always by intention. It bothers me that I don’t know the little things about Jovan that the Ire folk are asking. Is he handsome? Yes, devastatingly so. What does he do when he’s not being king? No idea. I’d guess training, but I don’t really know.

Hamish throws himself down onto the cushion next to me. “So. Close to the king?” he asks, with a sideways peek at me. “Is that why you couldn’t say anything?”

“One of the reasons,” I say, not willing to lie. He studies me for a long time. I don’t meet his gaze.

He sighs. “Then I guess I can deal with that for now. Maybe one day you’ll trust me enough to confide in me.”

“It’s not—” I start.

“I know, I know.” He waves an aggravated hand in the air. “Plus, I had to forgive you after being selected for the most dangerous mission. And with the king’s emissary, too!” He fans his face. I laugh and shove him.

“Whatever,” I say, still chuckling.

“You ready for our ‘mission’ then?”

I shrug. How do I explain to him that the things which should make me afraid, no longer do? “I guess so. It should be simple enough,” I say. He nods.

“And the most excitement I’ve had in my life!” he says with gusto. A few people near us laugh at his eagerness. I notice the blonde woman staring over. She waves enthusiastically when he notices. He gives half a wave back before standing and pulling me to my feet.

The sky is starting to dim by the time everyone is ready. The rest of the Ire are gathering on Adox’s rock. Adox is there too, while I take over the group of thirty on the Meeting Island.

Hamish and I strap ourselves into Soars, side by side. The groups needing to travel farthest are already gone. Before they left, I’d made the leader of each group confirm their first target by pointing to it on the map rolled out on the tent floor. A twinge of nerves hits me as I think of what they’re risking. If this goes wrong, it will be on my shoulders. I asked Adox to do this. It’s times like this when Mother’s words come back to me. She’d always told me I’d be the ruin of Osolis. I thought she’d meant I’d destroy everything through error, but now I knew she’d meant it would be because of what I am. What I can’t hide. I wonder how often my mother had lain awake wishing Olandon was born before me; the position of Tatuma always went to the eldest child.

“You ready?” Hamish asks. I start and look up at him. He’s grown progressively more silent over the last couple of hours. His excitement has turned into a nervous tension. Several had thrown up over the side of the Meeting Island—if I was lucky, it would land on Uncle Cassius’s head.

I borrow Jimmy’s phrase. “I was born ready.”

We set off with three other groups, sticking as close to the passing islands for cover as we dare. Adox hadn’t wanted me to go in the first group. He had a point. My flying ability is nowhere near the level of the others. But I firmly believed the most dangerous mission should sit on my shoulders, as it wasn’t really the Ire’s problem. Hamish was with me because I knew him better than anyone, and partially because he would’ve been angry with me if I hadn’t selected him.

One group peels off after a time without a sound, heading off toward their section of the pathway. Adox wanted to destroy the whole of the pathway, but I’d disagreed. We only needed to cause a major delay to the army. Enough so the Solati’s food supplies would dwindle, and frustration and suspicion would affect morale. No doubt they’d wonder if Glacium had suspected they were attacking all along and had ruined the pathway long ago. My mother would have to call her army back from where she sat in her comfortable throne on Osolis.

Another two groups split from us and fly away together. They’ll separate as they get closer to their part of the pathway. I’m glad Hamish knows the Oscala so well. I have no idea where I’m going.

Our progress as we draw close is slower. We stop at each island and survey the area around us. There’ll be Solati guards with hawk-like vision on overnight sentry duty. The darkness cloaks us well, but the slight sheen of the Soar’s material could catch a scout’s eye if they are paying attention. Our team will start on the supports ten islands in front of the army’s current location. The Osolis scouts will be slightly in front of the army—perhaps four or five islands. We’ll have several islands between us, so the scout’s vision should be obscured, especially with the way the pathway bends and twists.

It takes a long time to get to the first island. By the time we touch down, I’m hardly breathing, though I can hear Hamish’s breath coming fast. I signal to him to wait and unstrap my Soar, scanning the area before circling back. He takes off his own Soar and we approach the rope bridge before us. It should be easy enough. The bridge is one unit made of wooden planks roped together. It’s stretched out between four heavy studs, two on each of the connected islands. Thick rope coils around the studs to hold the walkway in place, providing a rudimentary handrail either side of the suspended walkway.

“Saw.” Hamish holds out his hand toward me.

I stare at the outstretched limb dumbly. “What?” I jerk around to look at the Soars. No bag. “I thought you had the saw!”

He turns and we share a horrified look.

“Axe?” he whispers. I shake my head and cover my mouth.

We don’t have time to go back and get them.

“Maybe we could catch up to the next group and get one off of them,” I say. Hamish shakes his head.

“Not enough time. Fuck!” he hisses. “How did I forget them? They were right next to us in a bag,” he says in a louder voice.

I place my hand over his mouth. “I know, I saw them there. We both screwed up. But we’ll figure something out,” I say.

“I brought you a saw and axe,” a voice says from the darkness. I clamp down on a scream and whirl toward the voice.

“Who’s there?” Hamish demands. I crouch, darting furtive looks around the rest of the clearing for signs of an ambush. The person comes out from behind the rock. I straighten and scowl at the young boy.

“Jimmy. What are you
doing
here?” I demand. His mother was going to kill me.

“W-well, I saw your tools lying there and thought you might need them,” he stutters.

I frown down at him. “You mean you took them so you’d have an excuse to follow us.” No wonder I’d thought Hamish had them, and he’d thought I had them. The brat had swiped them before we left. “This isn’t a game, Jimmy!” I whisper furiously. “What if something had happened to you and we didn’t know where you were or weren’t able to destroy the pathway?”

Jimmy looks down at his stitched shoes. Hamish is silent behind me. I glance at him and see he almost looks relieved. I frown at him until he gets the hint and attempts a somber expression. He achieves the same half-annoyed expression he gave me at the training rock.

I take the tools from Jimmy and pass them to Hamish, who hastens to get started on the first support.

I turn back to the young boy with a sigh. “You’ll have to come with us now. I can’t send you back by yourself. Jimmy, I realize I’ve asked you to disobey your mother and Adox in the past, and that was very wrong of me,” I say. Jimmy looks up, eyes wide.

“The time will come to have your adventures. It will come sooner than you think. But what is the point of having those adventures if the people back home don’t trust you and cannot rely on you?” I ask, feeling a bit hypocritical.

“I guess not much,” he mumbles.

“No, not much at all. Plus, I don’t think Adox is far away from confiscating your Soar. Better to fly where you’re supposed to, than not fly at all,” I say. His whole body spasms at my words and his eyes are wide in disbelief. He shakes his head in horror at the future I’ve laid before him. I don’t know why Adox hasn’t done it before now. The boy drives me crazy and I’ve only known him for a few months.

It takes awhile to sever all the ropes. The pathway was made to last, and our work must be done slowly so the sound doesn’t carry. Hamish is cutting the final strands when I join him. I strap myself into the Soar and guide the weight of the bridge down so it doesn’t crash into the other island. The bridge still makes a slight clatter as it connects with rock. All three of us still pause for any sign of alarm.

Soon we’ve cut the other side and hauled the bridge up. The soldiers will reach this island tomorrow and not be able to cross to the second—not without wasting materials and time. Between us, we fly the mass of ropes and wood over to an isolated island while Jimmy watches with riveted attention. The Solati will never find the support, but having the bridge close will make it easier to fix the pathway once the army returns to Osolis.

It must be somewhere in the early hours of the morning. Maybe two or three. It’s hard to tell in the darkness, but it took us a few hours to fly here and get rid of the first target. The second support is two islands away. And due to the zig-zagging and up-and-down nature of the pathway, the support is closer again to the Solati Army, but beneath their current position. I wonder how many of my people are sleeping on the various flat surfaces and caves throughout the Oscala.

We land on the island behind our next target.

“I don’t like it,” I decide, lips pursed. “If we land at the top, then anyone looking down from the islands above us will see us.” This support is to aid in scaling a sheer cliff face. There are no footholds at all, so without the rope currently hanging down the side, it will be almost impossible to scale. It’s similar to the one I’d saved Sole from when he slipped. It was luck and timing which saved the delegate. I’d thrown myself over the side to catch him, rope in hand, earning myself a dislocated shoulder and broken wrist. Though, I’d come to think the pain was worth it because that was the turning point of my friendship with the delegates.

“We have to get rid of it,” Hamish says, looking around the sky. “There’s no one there.”

“The Solati sentries are hand-picked and well trained.” I shake my head. “We can’t both go up there,” I decide.

“I’ll go.”

I shake my head. “No. I need you waiting at the bottom to deaden the sound of the falling rope,” I say. “I’m smaller and … no offence, more adept at sneaking.”

Hamish gives me a wry grin, but nods and soars down to his position.

“Stay here,” I say to Jimmy. He turns his head away, still sulking a little at my earlier words.

I fly to the other side of the cliff, which has shelves and looks relatively easy to climb. My only other option is to jump across the gap from this island to the next—not happening. I unstrap myself so the shiny material doesn’t give me away, and climb with quick hands. It’s easier than climbing out from my room in the palace—just with a higher chance of death if I fall.

I pause upon reaching the top and peek upward, but I can’t see anything. I can’t be sure if that’s normal or not. I’m certain my sight has been affected by having the veil on for so long. It’s possible the sentries are there and I just can’t see them. But time is short. It’s now or never.

I skim across the top of the island toward the sheer cliff and the dangling rope, keeping to the shadows as much as possible. At the top, I don’t dare pause to see if I’ve been spotted. I take out the small saw and begin slow, steady strokes, wincing at the grating noise it generates. I’m sure Hamish can barely hear it, but it sounds as loud as the fighting pits in the silence of early morning. At least there’s only one rope to cut through. I manage to saw the final strand and don’t even wait to see if Hamish catches it at the bottom. If it does make a sound I’ll be the thing they catch sight of, not him.

I do pause briefly once out of sight. There are no alarmed voices or sounds of scraping rock. I didn’t even hear the rope fall. Hamish must have caught the bulk of it. I soar back over to where Jimmy is, thankfully, still standing.

“Hamish took the rope over there.” He points. I look over and see Hamish is making his way back.

We deal with the last support easily. It’s farther away, a long single rope looped around a rock on an island above, used to swing over a large gap. We hide the rope and start back, following the same pattern as we used to get here, stopping at each island to check the coast is clear.

We’re nearly at the third island and the closest we’ll be to the pathway when an echoing sound reaches us.

The sound comes again. I’ve never heard anything like it in the Oscala before. What is it?

The noise echoes again and I get a sense of its locations. It’s coming from above us. But what is it? My eyes widen as I hear the hollow echo once more. I don’t need Hamish’s whispered confirmation a second later. It’s the sound of wood hitting stone! Something’s falling. One of the teams has dropped a support.

The shock of the booming disturbance loses its edge as it falls past ours and the army’s location. There’s one last resounding boom … then deadly silence. I exchange a grimace with Hamish before dread settles in my stomach.

I whip my head around, realizing we’re in plain sight. A shout goes up behind us.

“Hide,” I hiss. Abandoning caution, we hurtle to the next island and throw our Soars to the ground before flattening ourselves against the rock.