A stones throw, p.34
A Stone's Throw, page 34
part #2 of The Petralist Series
His fear spiked to a new level. She had planned a trap of her own.
Before he could decide what to do, mouth half open to shout a warning, but voice stuck in his throat, the top of another low hill nearby ripped off with a sharp snapping of wooden timbers. Erich rose from his place of concealment, muscles swollen with granite power. He hefted the ten-foot half-dome of hill and threw it at Shona like a discus.
Captain Rory punched the flying fake hilltop up and away.
“That’s no way to treat a lady,” he growled.
Anika stepped out of her own hiding place on the opposite side of Ilse from her brother and waved to Rory. “Hello mine capitain. You show how treat lady, yes?”
A little smile flickered across Rory’s normally impassive, craggy features. “My pleasure.”
Tomas and Cameron trotted out from behind a half-wall farther back, to the right of Rory, and began a wide flanking maneuver. Tomas waved to Connor. “Here we go again.”
Connor didn’t bother waving back. The clandestine meeting had changed into a staging area for a pitched battle.
Ilse turned to him and said softly, “I’ll grant you the time you request, Connor. Enjoy those letters.”
“Letters?”
“There’s one from Verena in that roll too.”
Verena wrote him, and he hadn’t opened it yet? Despite the soldiers closing in, Connor was tempted to unroll the parchment right there in the Rhidorroch. But he’d never get time to read it, and once Shona learned of its existence, she’d have it shredded and burned.
He shoved the parchment into his shirt, and Ilse’s implication became clear. Once he read the letters, and should he choose to take the chance and leave with her, he couldn’t enter Granadure without her. If she’d been captured or killed, they’d blame him. He glanced from her to Shona, from Anika to Rory, then to the forces closing in all around. He wanted to slap Ilse and Shona both for forcing him to make another choice between them.
With a glower at Ilse, he walked past her and the siblings toward Shona, not quite believing what he planned.
“I’m very sorry. I can’t let you take them yet.”
Chapter 53
“Don’t you dare….” Shona started to shout, but Connor didn’t wait for her to finish. If he didn’t hear her command, could she still hold him responsible for disobeying?
It was his best defense. So he tapped soapstone and drew heavily from the water in all of the nearby mud pits. Streams of silt-laden liquid erupted out of the pits in reverse waterfalls, and the roaring of those waters drowned out the rest of Shona’s cry. Rivers of water tumbled across the obstacle course and he formed them into a rippling wall fifteen feet high between Ilse’s and Shona’s forces.
Then he drained the heat away, creating a solid wall of ice. Sweat broke out on his forehead as he concentrated on the tricky procedure. He could have more easily sucked away the heat if he’d been able to tap marble at the same time, but he didn’t dare attempt both together.
Tomas and Cameron charged around the far end of the ice wall as he completed it, and Ilse and the siblings moved to meet them. Connor couldn’t let them engage or he’d never have time to get Ilse out of the trap. Besides, he didn’t want anyone hurt, except maybe Anika.
Then again, if he let her get hurt, Rory would crack him like a melon.
With the wall finalized, he released soapstone, hoping Rory hadn’t recruited one of the school’s Spitters who could turn the waters against him. Then he tapped a bit of slate and reached through the ground with whispers of thought. The warren of underground passages prevented much contact with the earth, but he found a little and pulled it up into fingers of earth that wrapped around the two Fast Rollers and dragged them to a stop.
Tomas gave him a disgusted look. “Come on, Connor. All I want is one good bash fight.”
“Sorry. Maybe later.” And only if Connor was far away when it started.
Cameron shrugged. “At least it’s not a flood this time, and you don’t win yet. He hasn’t broken anything big.”
“No, but execution guaranteed,” Tomas replied glumly.
Connor forced himself to ignore their banter. Nothing from irate professors to earthen incarceration could faze either of them. Besides, he didn’t want to think about execution. Once was more than enough. Hopefully Shona still needed his curse more than she wanted to punish him for breaking the trap. If she lost her temper again like she had outside of Alasdair, that would force his hand.
As Rory and Shona began beating on his wall of ice, Connor drew Ilse and the siblings close. Soldiers atop the wall were beginning to jump. They landed hard, like the beating of war drums.
“Stay hidden. I’ll contact you.”
“Do you have any kind of plan?” Ilse asked.
He started to say no, but all of a sudden he did. “Erich, fetch another hilltop.”
The hulking Rumbler glared at being ordered around, but with a sharp nod from Ilse, did as ordered. Connor had him turn the ten-foot, bowl-shaped wooden construct over and ordered the three of them to crouch inside.
Behind him the ice wall shattered and Rory burst through already running.
“Connor, don’t!” he shouted.
Anika blew him a kiss, “I think he wanting me wrestle.”
“I beat him,” Erich growled. “And then kill two times.”
“Later,” Connor said. As Rory bore down on them with Shona close behind, and Fast Rollers and Boulders charging from every side, he said, “Hold on. I saw this almost work once.”
“Wait,” Ilse shouted, and for the first time she looked nervous.
Connor sucked deep on marble and as the spicy flavor shifted to burning heat, he embraced the wild rush of fire.
Rory launched himself in a final desperate dive to reach the Grandurians just as a thick column of fire erupted out of the ground under the group and launched them in their wooden platform high into the air. The captain tumbled through the center of the flaming column, shaking it.
Connor tried to compensate, but applied too much correction. Instead of the steady ascent they had been enjoying, the Grandurians cried out in alarm as the fire threw them far out over the wall of the compound.
Connor lost sight of them as they disappeared into the darkness, so he drew the fire down around himself in a tight barrier. Rory rolled back to his feet, face red from the heat and his leathers smoking, but otherwise unharmed from his temporary immersion in the fire. He looked furious.
Not as mad as Shona. She skidded to a halt just outside of Connor’s ring of fire, but instead of ordering him to stand down, she glanced around at the approaching Boulders and the overall-clad workers who began appearing around the Rhidorroch, drawn by the noise and the flames.
“Go,” she ordered. “Don’t let anyone see your face, and report at once to Lord Nevan’s palace.”
He was not about to let her rethink that order, so he gathered the flames closer around his face and re-formed the column of fire under his own feet. He lacked the wooden platform Daly had used, but while walking with fire, it wouldn’t burn his skin, no matter how badly the use of marble seared his mouth.
Connor grinned with the wild insanity of marble, but flames dribbled out his nose, ruining the effect. So he drove himself into the air, riding a column of fire that threw him even farther than it had the Grandurians. When he reached the apex of his arc, he cut off the flames and embraced the cool of the dark night.
For a moment he soared, free of all tether, buffeted by the gusty winds, invisible and alone. He shouted with the thrill of it, then cringed as his voice echoed back from the towering Carraig walls. He’d be grouted for sure if he was caught, but he still grinned with the excitement of flying as he started the long fall back toward the ground.
He drew upon the refreshing coolness of soapstone and pulled streamers of water from bubbling fountains in the nearby formal gardens to form a ramp of water to change his fall into a graceful slide. He reached the ground, filled with the boundless energy of basalt, his legs already fracked and blurring with speed. Even taking a three mile detour around the school grounds to ensure no one followed him, he arrived at Lord Nevan’s palace long before Shona and Rory.
That gave him more than enough time to worry about what she planned to do with him.
And time enough to read the letters.
Chapter 54
“Don’t cry when I knock you off that pretty seat,” Hamish teased Verena as the two faced off for the delayed aerial duel.
“I never cry,” she said with perfect calm, “and you never beat me.”
“Ha!” It took him a second to respond. Throwing out two truths in one comeback wasn’t fair. There needed to be room for some back and forth. He worried about her grasp of etiquette sometimes.
So he adjusted the release rate on the thrusters along the bottom of his flying plank to hover a bit closer to her. The two of them were floating fifty feet above the ridge of yet another rock-strewn, desolate canyon along the northern edge of the Maclachlan Mountains. He’d caught a glimpse of Mount Ingram earlier, but was glad clouds had moved in from the east to block his view. He could reach his home in a matter of hours on his fantastic new flying sled, and the temptation to stop in and visit Jean was nearly overwhelming.
Verena flitted around him, looking completely at home in her nimble craft. The design had looked ridiculous on the ground, but in the air it hovered about like a hummingbird. He’d never admit it aloud, but he worried he’d have a hard time proving his design was better.
“At least I don’t punch people in the throat,” he taunted.
Verena gave him a happy smile. “Sometimes it just has to be done.”
He’d have to be careful. Although he had a huge advantage in reach, that girl could be downright terrifying at close quarters. Connor had seemed to like getting beat up by her, but Hamish couldn’t see the appeal in it.
They were supposed to be scouting the area for signs of the mysterious creatures that patrol had spotted, but they hadn’t seen anything interesting. The armies were massed miles to the west, near the only viable passes through the mountains. Skirmishes had been happening along that line, but he doubted anyone from Obrion could make it this far.
Kilian had descended with Dierk in the windrider into a nearby canyon to meet with one of the patrols assisting in the search. After yet another hour of fruitless searching while Verena continued to show off her nimble flying seat, Hamish had decided to teach her a little humility.
She’d accepted the challenge of the duel more quickly than he’d expected. They lacked practice swords, so they’d cut staves from some of the gnarled trees in a nearby canyon. Three hits would win.
As Verena resumed her spot hovering to his right, he adjusted his custom Builder jacket. It held many easy-access pockets containing various rocks, and he sent a flicker of thought across the skin of his torso to confirm their contents were all properly in place. Verena’s habit of stripping half naked while working on her floating bench to maximize skin contact had given him the idea. He designed the jacket with openings in the inner fabric of every pocket so he could feel the stones without even having to touch them. He could activate them that way too, but hadn’t yet figured out how that made sense with most of them. If he activated a piece of marble while still in his pocket, it would just burn a hole through.
Hamish flexed his feet in the bindings that locked him to his flying plank. During the long hours of searching over the past two days, he’d confirmed the simple design worked wonderfully. Its simplicity belied its brilliance. It looked almost like one of the sledding planks he and Connor had used on the snowy hills around Alasdair, although its polished edges and rounded ends gave it a more mature look. Just wide enough for his feet, which were strapped in across the width of the board so he could stand with shoulders parallel to its five foot length. He could soar like an eagle, and had quickly mastered the proper balance for tight turns.
Verena’s chair was so different, he still wondered how she’d come up with it. “I still think you look ridiculous,” he said.
“You’re the one who’ll fall over and break your teeth.”
“Just admit it. You’re scared of the freedom.”
While his sled was sleek and simple, she had taken her previous idea for the floating work sled and enhanced it. The result looked like a saddle, bred with a chair, with its legs chopped off. She sat in a padded seat, between tight front and back supports that made her look like a sandwich. She’d added handles for her hands that protruded from the front support, and rigid stirrups for her legs that let her sit half-reclined. Sitting on the floor, the entire contraption had looked uncomfortable and ungainly.
In the air, it moved with wondrous agility. Verena understood flight almost as if one of her parents had been a bird. With quartzite thrusters on every plane, the little seat could move in any direction, or even roll completely over.
Verena saluted with her stick. “Commencing operation Chopped Hamish.”
Hamish gaped. She came up with a catchy mission title without telling him about it? He wracked his brain and blurted out the first idea that came to him.
“Commencing operation Cracked Verena on Ice.”
“Not bad,” she said, “but you’re mostly just copying my idea.”
Hamish grimaced. He’d have to come up with something better to celebrate his victory. Maybe he wouldn’t be so nice to her in the duel.
Just as he was about to call the start of the duel, the Windrider roared into the air from the nearby canyon, moving with almost admirable speed. Dierk must have opened the release rates all the way. At that rate, he’d burn through the thrusters’ power reserves in an hour.
“Something’s wrong,” Verena said, pointing at the wagon. “Let’s go.”
Hamish tucked forward, bracing himself, and threw open the release rate on his rear thrusters. He surged forward so fast he almost toppled over backward, but managed to keep his balance. With the wind pulling tears from his eyes, he glanced back to see how much distance he’d gained over Verena.
She was keeping pace right beside him, grinning with the thrill of the speed. Her hair blew wildly about her face, despite the tight braid she kept retying every time they stopped. The two would need to include goggles and masks to deal with the wind and chill of flight next time.
They caught up with the windrider, which was rumbling through the air to the east. Kilian straddled the high front seat, leaning forward so far, it was a wonder he didn’t fall out. He waved Verena close and jumped to the back of her seat, clinging to the rear support, legs braced on a supply box she’d attached to the back. She adjusted so quickly to the added weight that her little craft barely bobbed, then she shot forward, following his directions.
As soon as Kilian left, Dierk cut power and banked the heavy wagon back toward the canyon.
Hamish moved in close behind Verena and shouted, “What’s going on?”
“Anton caught a glimmer of something,” Kilian shouted. “I think it’s our mysterious apes. We’re going in. Dierk will bring in the rest of the team.”
Hamish grinned and fingered the hilt of his sword. This would be even better than dueling Verena. He’d get to prove what his new invention could do against actual opponents. From what Verena had explained, apes didn’t sound all that dangerous.
The trio soared over the rim of another canyon and descended as they followed its twisting course, staying roughly even with the tops of the steep, rocky walls. The canyon narrowed to about a hundred yards, following the course of a bubbling stream. The steep-sided channel was clogged with boulders and scraggly trees thrusting twisted arms toward the sunlight.
“No one’s going to be down here,” Hamish shouted. “It’s too rough.”
Then they soared over a huge, broken boulder the size of a house, and he spotted a pair of creatures out of his worst nightmares standing in a small clearing. The red-furred monsters stood as tall as men, with impossibly huge muscles and unnaturally long arms. He caught a glimpse of animal snouts and long claws.
Then one of them threw a tree it had ripped from the ground, sending it tumbling toward them with more power than even a max-tapped Boulder might.
“Oh, that’s not fair.”
Chapter 55
Hamish leaned hard over and increased the release rate on the front thrusters, pushing his plank into a tight turn to escape the wooden missile. Flying so low, the turn pointed him straight at the steep canyon walls, forcing him to lean over the other way and throw wide the release rate on all of his thrusters. He banked in such a tight turn that his stomach flipped in intriguing ways. He’d have to test it another time and see if he could make himself throw up.
He avoided the wall of the canyon by inches and, grinning with the thrill of impending battle, shot away from the wall. He planned to pass twenty feet above the monsters to get a clearer look at them before closing with his sword.
Verena, who had simply slid to the right to avoid the thrown tree shouted, “Look out, Hamish!”
One of the monsters leaped impossibly far, landing atop a large boulder. With barely a pause, it launched into the air on an intercept course with Hamish.
He got a closer look at it than he’d intended.
As he drew his sword and tried to increase altitude, the monster arced toward him, massive arms thrown wide. Its skin held a maroon hue, and was covered in coarse hair of a unique burnt-orange color, broken regularly by short, spiky bones. Its powerful hands held thick fingers with deadly claws. Its feet looked almost identical. The most hideous part was its bald, leathery head. The skull was elongated, with a heavy brow over glittering, crimson eyes. Its maw looked a lot like a wolf’s, filled with sharp teeth, but it opened far wider than any wolf ever could. That maw could swallow a man’s head whole.
