Valley of Fires: A Conquered Earth Novel (The Conquered Earth Series) (32 page)

BOOK: Valley of Fires: A Conquered Earth Novel (The Conquered Earth Series)
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“What does that have to do with me?” Holt asked impatiently.

She looked up at him sharply. “I want to know what the plan is. I want to know how we’re going to break them out and get to San Francisco where we’re supposed to be.”

“If you want plans, you’ve come to the wrong place,” he said. “Ravan and West, they have plans, but I doubt they involve your ship. They gave me a jeep, couple tanks of gas, I’m supposed to leave in the morning. You wanna get to San Francisco, you’re welcome to tag along.”

“You’re going back by yourself? They’re expecting you with an army of Menagerie!”

“Do you see any possible way that that can happen now?”

Olive stared at him like a complete stranger. “Would you rather be back in that cell they locked you up in?”

Holt stared right back. “What’s the difference?”

Olive moved with a speed even faster than the rattler, and slapped him in the face with as much force as her small frame allowed. It was enough to rock his head to the side.

Laughter erupted in the food court, and Holt stared at Olive in shock. She glared back in disgust.

“She wouldn’t give up,” Olive said. “If
you
were gone,
she
wouldn’t give up.”

“I’m still here, aren’t I?” His voice was bitter.

“No, you’re not,” Olive answered back. “When that ship went down, it was like a light turned off inside you. You’ve been sleepwalking through everything since, because you don’t
care
anymore. I’m sorry you lost her. I am. She was special, and I loved her too, but she
is
gone. Everyone on this planet has lost someone. The difference is you still have people who care about you, people who are
here.
People, from what I understand, that have sacrificed a lot for you, and the least you could do, the very least … is
try.

The words gave Holt the first emotion he’d felt in days … and it was shame. He tried to hold Olive’s stern gaze, but failed, looked away.

Something fell on top of the Devil’s Box, a necklace of some kind.

“She wanted you to have that,” Olive said. “Said to give it to you if you lost your way, said you’d know what it meant.”

Holt could see what it was now. The little brass compass Mira wore. Zoey had one just like it, they were both Strange Lands artifacts. Instead of pointing north, they pointed at each other.

Holt stared at the compass with far more fear than the snake. It wasn’t just that it used to be
Mira’s,
an actual physical link that had
touched
her, but more so what it represented now: a call back to reality. The truth was, he liked his wallowing. He liked the pain, he liked the relief that came with not caring. If he
really
wanted to feel something again, the opportunity was right there. All he had to do was take it.

“Tough thing about the world is that there’s always something more important than ourselves,” Olive said. “Much as we hope otherwise.”

Slowly, Holt reached for the necklace, felt the chain intertwine with his fingers. It was warm, it felt alive. He held the small compass, turned it so he could see the needle. It pointed
northwest,
toward its other half, and the person who owned it. Someone he loved. Someone who loved him. Someone he had neglected in his descent into self-pity.

The needle pointed to Zoey.

His vision glazed, and he shut his eyes, keeping the tears away. He heard Olive turn and walk off, headed back the way she’d come.

“Wait…” he said, his voice hoarse. When he opened his eyes, the tiny Captain had stopped and turned back, studying him.

“Your ship.” Holt slipped the necklace around his neck, let it fall under his shirt. “Just how ‘locked down’ is it?”

*   *   *

THEY WERE IN THE
work bay when he found them, where the gyrocopters sat. A dozen rebels, West, as well as Ravan, Masyn, and Castor, stood around a crudely drawn map on a workbench, and from behind them, Holt could just make out that it was of the Commerce Pinnacle. They were going to try and hit it again.

“Without the Skydash, the options are limited,” Rogan said.

“Air-drop people onto the platform?” a pirate suggested.

Ravan shook her head. “We don’t have enough gyros to put men in there to make a difference.”

“But with your White Helix support—”

“You’re looking at it all wrong,” Holt said, interrupting them.

Everyone at the table turned, and their eyes almost universally held contempt. Ravan just looked back down at the map with a scowl. There was a trickle of emotion then, at the way she tensed. Even though it was unpleasant, knowing he’d hurt her, knowing how she felt about him, it still felt good in its own way, good to feel
something.

“You’re supposed to be packing, Hawkins,” Rogan said. “And no one’s interested in your opinion.”

“That’s a shame,” he replied, “because you’re going after the wrong Pinnacle.”

They stared at him skeptically. “How’s that?”

“You need a knockout punch. The longer you stay entrenched, the more momentum you lose, and Tiberius hasn’t even done his counterattack yet.”

“So what Pinnacle would you hit, then?”

“Refinery,” Holt stated. “Take Refinery, you take the city.” The reactions he got were the ones he expected. Some of the rebels laughed, others just rolled their eyes. Ravan, though, looked up at him curiously.

“That’s definitely true,” West said. “It’s why the Refinery Pinnacle’s the most heavily guarded of the bunch. There’s no way to take it in a stand-up fight.”

“A stand-up fight is definitely not what I’m proposing.” Holt looked at Ravan pointedly. The way she stared back implied she knew where he was going.

“They may have changed it,” she said, thinking it through. “All it takes is the flip of a switch. Even if they haven’t, you’ll still need more.”

“I’ve got more.”

“You two clearly have some kind of plan forming,” Rogan stated, his eyes still on Holt. “Fact remains, I still don’t know if you’re really committed to this.”

It was what Holt expected, and there was an obvious answer. He’d thought it through on his way over, all the ramifications, all the consequences. They were significant … but he was tired of breaking promises.

Holt held up his right hand, showed the half-formed image on the wrist. “Finish it,” he said.

Ravan’s eyes widened, she looked at him in a completely different way. Even Rogan seemed surprised.

“That’s a binding agreement in all kinds of ways,” the rebel leader said.

“It’s a promise I’m willing to make.” His gaze moved to Ravan. She stared back. “You want to take this city or not?”

 

26.
REFINERY

IT WAS A NIGHT WITHOUT A MOON
, which, Olive figured, was probably the plan. The ground under the Commerce Pinnacle was nearly black as she, Masyn, and Castor moved silently through it. Above them, through gaps in the platform’s wooden beams, they could see the flickering lights of the flare tower and the pirates. There were a hundred probably, guarding her crew, being held in the Pinnacle’s lower-level rooms.

They crept past the giant beams that held the platform, moving toward their goal. Olive could just make out the
Wind Rift
’s three custom-made wheels in the shadows ahead, and she felt relief pour through her. The pirates hadn’t stripped her yet.

The glowing crystals on Masyn’s Lancet had been covered with black cloth. A similar cloth was wrapped around the rings of her left hand. Castor didn’t have to worry about that: he’d lost his to Tiberius days ago, and it weighed on him greatly. From what Olive understood, losing a Lancet or a ring was a source of great shame to the Helix, and unless he recovered them, he would be an outcast. It seemed harsh, but the Strange Lands were a harsh place. It made sense that its people would be just as severe.

They reached the end of the platform, nothing but open desert and the
Wind Rift
’s giant wheels in front of them. The voices from the pirates were dimmer, and Olive stared up at the deck of the ship, some thirty feet above. The hull sloped down and under toward the ground, which meant you would be climbing it at a negative angle. It looked impossible.

Masyn shook her head. “That’s a hell of a climb. Barely any handholds, all grip and back strength. Not sure how you’re going to get up, Castor.”

He looked at her severely. “I can do it.” Castor’s shoulder was wrapped tightly with bandages, his arm tucked into his chest from his run-in with a crossbow bolt.

Masyn didn’t even look at him. “Not without rings or with that shoulder. You probably should just stay down here where it’s safe.”

Castor glared at her, then jumped and grabbed the wooden hull with his one good hand. He swung his legs, using the momentum to shoot up and grab another handhold.

Masyn smiled then, watching him climb. Olive wasn’t sure where he was finding places to grip, the ship was almost completely smooth, it was impressive.

“Were you baiting him?” Olive asked.

Masyn shrugged. “He needs to get back on his feet and stop moping.” While the remark may have seemed dismissive, there was a tenderness there. Castor was important to Masyn, and it bothered her how dejected he’d been, White Helix rules or not.

Above, Castor’s form slipped over the railing. A second later he reappeared, and Masyn threw up a thick coil of rope. He caught it, tied it off, let it drape back down.

Masyn grabbed one end. “Wait here, remember what we said.”

The girl pulled herself straight up, not even bothering to use her legs. When she reached the top, she and Castor grabbed the rope. It was her signal. Olive grabbed it too … then felt it
lift.
The two Helix pulled her up, and she slipped over the railing onto her back.

At the middle of the ship, where the gangplank led down to the dock, three Menagerie stood, laughing and talking, their backs to them. They hadn’t seen their climb.

Masyn silently unstrapped the Lancet from her back, and she gave Olive a meaningful look. Olive felt her pulse quicken. She could do this, she told herself. The Menagerie weren’t getting her ship.

Masyn and Castor moved toward the three pirates in complete silence. They reached them in seconds. In less time than that, the pirates were down, then they separated, moved farther ahead, disappearing in the shadows.

Now it was her turn. Olive swallowed, made her feet start moving. She could still hear the voices from the rest of the pirates below, could see the orange light from their fires and lanterns.

She reached the helm deck, moved for the Grounders sitting next to the ship’s huge wheel, opened the one she was looking for. Inside was the ship’s Zephyr, a complicated, four-tier artifact combination, with a small ring of quarters inset into its exterior. Zephyrs and Chinooks, a Landship’s two most important artifacts, were often confused. Chinooks amplified existing wind into a strong enough force to propel the giant ships over the ground. A Zephyr, however, created wind where there was none at all. It was a fail-safe artifact, if the ship found itself in a dead calm. Unlike Chinooks, Zephyrs could only be used once, but Olive had no problem burning this one.

She chewed her lip, then slid the ring of quarters all the way to the top of the artifact combination.

Wind roared to life in a maelstrom above her head. The sails had all been stowed, there was nothing to contain it, it just blew like a hurricane.

The pirates on the platform stared up at the huge ship as the wind raged. A few of them turned and headed right where she hoped. For the door to the storage building holding her crew.

She saw the pirates yank it open, start pulling the Wind Traders out and yelling at them, pointing toward the ship. It was working: the pirates were freeing the crew, telling them to deal with whatever was going on.

Everything that happened next happened in a blur.

A streak of red shot through the air and punched through the platform in a blaze of flame. It was followed by a blue one that did the same thing. A dozen pirates fell through the crippled woodwork and vanished. The rest pulled their guns, guessing what was happening now. That was Olive’s next signal.

She reached for another Grounder, revealed the Chinook. She dialed it up to its highest setting … then twisted the artifact ninety degrees to port. The wind shuddered as it aimed to the side, roaring down toward the platform under the ship. Pirates were blown off their feet, sent hurdling into the air, and slamming into the Pinnacle tower.

“Now!” Olive yelled.

Masyn landed on the dock in a flash of cyan, right in the middle of the Menagerie. The platform exploded as she recalled her two crystal spear points from beneath, reconnecting onto either end of her Lancet. Her rings lit up the night as she spun and struck.

Castor, even with one useless arm and no rings, was still a threat. He took out three pirates as he shoved the
Wind Rift
crew toward the ship. Olive switched off the Chinook and the Zephyr and ran to meet them.

Casper, the helmsman, was first on, and he looked at her wide-eyed. “Captain. Damn good to see
you.

“You too,” she replied, as more crew were running up. “Get to the helm. Everyone else, get us unhitched, sails unfurled, fast as you can!”

They dashed away and Olive’s trepidation grew. She was relieved to see them unharmed, but the truth was, if they didn’t pull this off, they were all going to die, and not later, but tonight. Olive jumped in herself, helping to untie the colorful sails.

Below, Masyn flipped and darted amid the pirates, sending them flying. Castor was dropping his share as well. But they were both about to be overwhelmed. Menagerie were pouring onto the dock, their guns flashing. Olive ducked as bullets sparked against the ship’s hull.

The first sail unfurled, the front one. She looked around, watched the last of the mooring ropes coming off the ship. They were loose.

“Casper! Chinook, full blast!”

He stared at her like she was crazy. “There’s only one sail!”

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