The Ships of Air (The Fall of Ile-Rein) (17 page)

Florian let out her breath. “I think it was some scary combination of both.”

“But I had to do it,” Tremaine protested. “It didn’t exactly get everyone on our side, but it helped.”

“And you wanted to do it,” Florian prompted hopefully.

“Oddly enough, yes.”

Gerard came back down the corridor, saying impatiently, “Tremaine, come along, please.”

“I’m coming, dammit!”

Florian squeezed her arm. “I’m sure it will work out. Well, I’m not sure, but you know what I mean.”

G
erard led Tremaine to the doorway of the Third Class drawing room. It was relatively small, for a public room on this ship, and almost cozy. There were still overstuffed armchairs, a marble hearth, and a floor-to-ceiling mural on the far wall of picturesque Parscian fishing boats at dock in some sun-drenched seaside town. Tremaine didn’t want to contemplate it too closely, afraid to recognize it as a real place that had been bombed to extinction by the Gardier.

Seated around the room, Tremaine saw Niles, his assistant Giaren, Colonel Averi, Captain Marais, Count Delphane and Lady Aviler, as well as other ship’s officers and some members of the Viller Institute she didn’t know well. Colonel Averi was at the front of the room, saying, “We proved one thing conclusively. It is the crystals that provide protection against our spells, not anything inherent in the Gardier as individuals. That explains why the only spells that have any effect on them are illusions and glamours and concealment wards. The crystals can defend against an outright attack, but passive spells don’t provoke a reaction.”

“Is it true about the crystals actually containing…the spirits of people?” Lady Aviler frowned, as if she felt odd asking the question. “Of sorcerers?”

“Unfortunately, yes.” Averi nodded to Gerard. “We’ll hear a more complete report on that later. The captured Gardier have verified it, though they seem to know nothing more about the subject. They are beginning to speak to us, though they haven’t said much of strategic value yet. We were trying to get them to tell us where the Gardier capital is, or at least what direction their homeland lies in. They seemed unable to point it out on the maps we have. I say unable, rather than unwilling, because once we realized spells would affect them Niles made us a confusion stone to use during the questioning. We have heard some details of their society. Some of these men seem to have been soldiers from birth. None of them can read or write except for a few simple symbols. This certainly explains why we found so few examples of written records in the wreck of the airship the Institute examined. It’s my belief that only the upper-level officers are literate.”

And I thought Ile-Rien’s Village School Authority had problems,
Tremaine thought wryly. “How very odd,” Gerard muttered. “For a society that seems so advanced in other ways.”

Averi continued, “Now the one female soldier admitted that she can read. So she may have some sort of higher rank than the other prisoners, and may have more knowledge of where their homeland can be found. We’re concentrating our efforts on her.”

The colonel took his seat, and Gerard took advantage of the opportunity to move up to the front next to Niles. Tremaine edged into the back of the room, groping for a chair where she could think and possibly doze, when she heard her name.

Ander was on his feet, obviously about to report on the negotiations with the Syprians. “There was one problem. Miss Valiarde instructed the Syprian leadership not to sign any agreements with us.”

Gosh, thanks, Ander,
Tremaine thought, trapped on her feet by a sideboard and a small table someone had shifted into the aisle.

Delphane turned in his chair to fix his eyes on her. “Why was that?”

Tremaine tried to conceal her irritation. “I was negotiating on their behalf. It wasn’t in their best interests.”

“You’ve caused trouble, young lady. If you think—”

Fine. If that’s the way you want to do it, let’s put all the cards on the table
. “If we’re going to have a meeting like this, don’t you think we should ask the Princess Olympe to attend?” Tremaine leaned back against the sideboard, folding her arms.

Silence settled over the room. She saw Gerard cover his eyes with his hand. Lady Aviler’s head turned sharply toward her. Tremaine watched Delphane’s face as he made a startled effort to conceal his real shock with angry disdain. He gave a short bark of laughter. “What on earth are you talking about?”

Tremaine shrugged slightly, milking the moment for all the brittle satisfaction it was worth. “I just hate to think of her getting bored, up there on the Sun Deck in Special Suite 3.”

Someone coughed nervously, and Delphane’s gaze narrowed with suspicion and defeat. He said grimly, “How did you know?”

Tremaine shrugged, making it look careless. There was only one explanation for Count Delphane, Lady Aviler and the Solicitor General all taking the
Ravenna
when they should have gone to Parscia with the rest of the court and the government. “I think Niles’s report on the success of the sphere at deflecting Gardier spells did reach the palace by the day we left. There wasn’t much time to do anything with the information since the Gardier were so close to overrunning Vienne. But you must have realized how dramatically the chance of the
Ravenna
getting through the blockade had improved.” She looked down, idly scuffing her boot against the tile floor. “Reynard Morane told me the royal family had already left Vienne for Parscia that morning, but there would have been time to telegraph ahead and suggest an alternate escape route. The Queen wouldn’t take it; if she was going to abandon the government, she would have done it before now. But she might take the opportunity to send one of the heirs to the throne, along with suitable escorts who could help her negotiate with the Capidarans. If she had sent Prince Ilorane, there would be no reason for Lady Aviler to come along. That leaves the Princess Olympe. Oh, I knew the number because that’s the suite that was built for the royal family. It’s on the tourist brochure.” She looked at Delphane, lifting her brows. “So? Should we telephone and see if she wants to join us?”

The room was quiet. Someone shifted uneasily, and someone else stifled a cough. Delphane’s eyes met hers, cold, assessing.
You broke cover,
Tremaine told herself.
The clumsy diffident girl with the odd sense of humor shows her true colors
. The realization should have left her cold, but somehow it didn’t. She gave Delphane a cool little smile.

Lady Aviler said quietly, “She’s asleep at the moment.” Her expression was thoughtful. “You know Captain Morane, Miss Valiarde?”

Tremaine knew she felt more at ease taking on Delphane than Lady Aviler; she suddenly recognized that as the self-preservation instinct it was. Delphane had a higher position in the court and the government, but Lady Aviler had organized the evacuees; until they reached Capidara she had more real power on the ship, possibly almost as much as Captain Marais. Tremaine deliberately softened her voice, dropped the challenge from her tone. “He’s an old friend of the family.”

Lady Aviler lifted a brow but didn’t comment.

Captain Marais cleared his throat and got to his feet, taking control of the room. “This is all very well, but we need to discuss our immediate plans. Niles, if you would?”

Niles stepped briskly forward, taking a pointer off the mantle and indicating the map. “We’ve discussed prospective routes at length, using the captured Gardier maps. We’ll travel through this world’s ocean until we reach the approximate location of Capidara’s coast. Then we’ll create a world-gate and cross back through to our world and proceed to the port at Capistown. There, we drop off the civilians and resupply and refuel, and pick up whatever troops are available. Then back through the gate to this world. We sail back in this direction but head further west until we’re in the approximate location of Parscia’s coast, create another world-gate and dock there, and make contact with the government-in-exile.” He turned to regard his audience, his face serious. “We’re in a unique position. The
Ravenna
is the only Rienish vessel currently capable of moving between this world and our own, and she can make that crossing at will. The Gardier airships can only cross between worlds when they’re within a mile of one of their spell circles. The
Ravenna
can also easily make the crossing between Parscia and Capidara in four to five days, faster than any military vessel we have left, twice as fast as the Gardier’s airships. She can also transport, if pressed, close to ten thousand troops, perhaps more. Even though the Gardier inhabit this world, they don’t seem to have devoted much of their resources to patrolling these waters as they have in ours. If we can establish a corridor of transport between our two allies—”

Tremaine edged into a chair, glad for the respite, even if it was temporary.

T
heir boat had been hauled aboard at a different place than last time, much closer to the stern, so finding their way back to their quarters took longer. The outer rooms were kept dark for safety, so the Gardier wouldn’t be able to see the ship’s outline from their flying whales. “If you get lost,” Gyan told Pasima and the others kindly as they blundered through a nearly pitch-dark chamber, looking for a passage inward, “it’s easiest to find a stair and go up or down until you see something you recognize. In the passages you could walk ten ships’ lengths in the wrong direction before you know it.”

“Where is Ixion kept?” Pasmia asked sharply. Ilias suspected her hard voice masked nervousness; at least he hoped so. “Is it near here?”

“A few decks down,” Giliead answered, deliberately vague.

They found the stairway down into the big chamber with the marble pillars and glass-walled rooms, the wizard lights making bright reflections behind their glass covers. There were quite a few people there now, most sitting on the cushioned couches and chairs. A large elaborately woven carpet was doing duty as a play area for several babies and small children just big enough to walk. Some of the people pointed or called “hello” as they saw the Syprians, one of the Rienish words Ilias could recognize if the speaker didn’t slur it too much. Arites waved back cheerfully, and Ilias made himself smile, since Pasima and the others kept expressions of aloof contempt. Arites, Gyan and Kias were acting as if they were completely accustomed to all the exotic colors and fine wood and crystalline glass.

As they started down the big stairway, past the portrait of the woman and her husbands, he heard Pasima ask Giliead, “How do you know which ones are wizards?”

Unable to help himself, Ilias said, “First, you get born a Chosen Vessel, then—” He cut himself off there, years of experience telling him when Giliead was about to clout him in the head in exasperation.

“There aren’t many wizards on board,” Giliead replied dryly, and left it at that.

They arrived at the cabin and found the wizard lights still on. The walk had given Ilias time to realize he was more mad at himself than anyone else. He had let himself forget that this really didn’t change anything, no matter what Karima wanted to believe. A marriage wouldn’t take away the curse mark.

He dumped his pack on one of the chairs and carried the wooden bow case into the room with the big table. He opened the case to count five goathorn bows and a bundle of sinew to string them; they had never been able to bring this many weapons along on a sea voyage before, and it was a novelty to have so many to choose from. But if they had unlimited space, they might as well take advantage of it.

Giliead brought the case containing the arrows and a set of javelins. He put it down on the table, saying nothing eloquently.

“I’ll apologize to her,” Ilias told him, hoping his tone would cut off further discussion. He picked up one of the bows, realizing it was old, the grip well-worn, the carving teasingly familiar. “Is this Ranior’s old bow?” The words were out before he could stop them, and he winced. He didn’t want Giliead to think he was using the painful past as a means to change the subject.

But Giliead only shrugged slightly, leaning one hip on the table. “No point in letting it sit in the cabinet, unused.”

The curse that had destroyed Ranior, Giliead’s father before the god, was the first curse that Giliead had ever faced. Even though the god had chosen him years before, this was the first time Giliead had felt its gift. At the time Ilias had had no idea that Ranior’s sudden violent outbursts against his family and friends were caused by a curse; he had even told Giliead that his suspicions were just wishful thinking. Ilias hadn’t realized until later that it was because deep in his heart he believed that all families turned on their children eventually, that they could teach you sheep shearing one day and take you out to die the next. He had thought Giliead lucky because it hadn’t happened until he was nearly grown.

Ilias closed the bow case, twisting the leather loop that held it shut.

The reality of the god’s choice hadn’t really sunk in before Ranior died. He knew that until then, on some level, Giliead had still thought of himself as spending his life at Andrien, taking care of the family farms for his beloved sister until he married. Ilias was damn sure that neither of them had ever thought of doing this.

Giliead ran a hand over the bow case, then straightened up. “I’m going to check on Ixion.”

Ilias nodded. “I’ll go with you.”

Giliead gave him a long look. “Why don’t you stay here and make sure the others get settled in?”

He meant, of course, stay here and stop acting like an idiot. Ilias let out his breath. “Fine.”

He reluctantly followed Giliead out into the main room. Pasima’s group looked wary of touching anything, though Danias was saying, “It’s not as strange as—” He stopped as they entered, looking at Pasima uncertainly.