don’t think that can be from back home. It’s too far,
surely. Who …?’ She stared at him for a long time. ‘Tell me, does the Wasp
Empire keep any … people in Solarno?’
‘Oh
there’s an embassy, an ambassador,’ he replied lightly, but he was looking
straight into her eyes and nodding. ‘I don’t mind, but it may cost extra, and
it’s only right I should know.’
She
shook her head. ‘It must just be because of the war. They probably still keep
tabs on every Lowlander in Solarno.’ He was looking doubtful, though, and she
hardly believed it herself.
‘Change
the arrangements at the last minute,’ she suggested. ‘Make it two days, not
three. I’ll pay for any inconvenience. If someone’s interested, let’s surprise
them.’
Trallo
nodded, already making the changes in his head. ‘Wise,’ he muttered. ‘Very
wise.’
Across the mirror of the Exalsee, the glitter and dance of an aerial duel
was takng place. Che leant on the rail, fascinated. She could just make out the
combatants. The match was something peculiar to this region, uniquely uneven: a
dragonfly-rider from Princep Exilla was flying against a mechanical orthopter.
The insect was vastly nimbler in the air, hovering and darting in circles about
the machine. Its rider had only a bow and throwing spears. Barring the luckiest
shot, he would merely waste his arrows. If the orthopter’s rotating piercers
found their prey then it would be over in a moment but the machine, sleek and
deadly as it was, seemed to lumber through the air. Eventually it would run
short of fuel and the pilot would have to break off from the contest. The
Dragonfly would count that as a win.
Trallo
joined her, stretching theatrically. Their current transport was a more
utilitarian beast than Captain Parrols’s piece of luxury. The Fighting Craidhen ran passengers and light cargo in short,
quick hops around the Exalsee. Aside from the impressive engines, which stank
of a mineral oil that made Che feel queasy, there was no spare weight or
needless decoration in the airship’s design.
‘Here.’
Trallo handed her a spyglass. She took it, abruptly glum, and even looked into
it. She saw only blurs and smudges wheeling and dancing at the lens’s far end.
It made her think of Trallo’s little people.
‘Your
kinden …’ It was an awkward thing to ask. ‘Some of you are Inapt, yes?’ She
already knew it was so. She had even seen Fly seers in Tharn.
‘Hardly,’
Trallo said, nevertheless. ‘What use would they be?’
In Solarno things are different. Still, she stared at him
until he shrugged.
‘Oh a
few,’ he admitted. ‘A few are born each generation. Less and less, I’d guess.
They have a blasted hard time of it, I’d guess.’
‘Quite.’
She handed back the spyglass to him.
The Fighting Craidhen flew on through the night, and the
academics were given nothing but some blankets thrown over the bare boards of
the hold on which to sleep. Che made it plain she had no time for their
complaints. She had not explained to them why they had left Solarno so
precipitately. When Praeda questioned the wisdom of hiring Trallo, she had
likewise not been drawn into debate. To her astonishment, her fiat on such
matters was grudgingly accepted. They all think I know what
I’m doing! She could have laughed. I’m making it up
as I go along. She knew that Stenwold would have done better.
Trallo
came to shake her by the shoulder, a very little after dawn. She twitched awake
suddenly, reaching instinctively across the hard floor for a slight man who was
not there. For a moment she felt disoriented. Surely Achaeos had been kneeling
beside her only now. Where was she, and where had he gone?
The
avalanche of a year’s history brought her back, trading happy fantasy for hard
fact. ‘Oh,’ she said. ‘Oh, yes. What is it?’
The
Fly-kinden tugged his beard, which she recognized by now as a sign of good
humour. Leaving the academics to bicker, and the Vekken to their
surely. Who …?’ She stared at him for a long time. ‘Tell me, does the Wasp
Empire keep any … people in Solarno?’
‘Oh
there’s an embassy, an ambassador,’ he replied lightly, but he was looking
straight into her eyes and nodding. ‘I don’t mind, but it may cost extra, and
it’s only right I should know.’
She
shook her head. ‘It must just be because of the war. They probably still keep
tabs on every Lowlander in Solarno.’ He was looking doubtful, though, and she
hardly believed it herself.
‘Change
the arrangements at the last minute,’ she suggested. ‘Make it two days, not
three. I’ll pay for any inconvenience. If someone’s interested, let’s surprise
them.’
Trallo
nodded, already making the changes in his head. ‘Wise,’ he muttered. ‘Very
wise.’
Across the mirror of the Exalsee, the glitter and dance of an aerial duel
was takng place. Che leant on the rail, fascinated. She could just make out the
combatants. The match was something peculiar to this region, uniquely uneven: a
dragonfly-rider from Princep Exilla was flying against a mechanical orthopter.
The insect was vastly nimbler in the air, hovering and darting in circles about
the machine. Its rider had only a bow and throwing spears. Barring the luckiest
shot, he would merely waste his arrows. If the orthopter’s rotating piercers
found their prey then it would be over in a moment but the machine, sleek and
deadly as it was, seemed to lumber through the air. Eventually it would run
short of fuel and the pilot would have to break off from the contest. The
Dragonfly would count that as a win.
Trallo
joined her, stretching theatrically. Their current transport was a more
utilitarian beast than Captain Parrols’s piece of luxury. The Fighting Craidhen ran passengers and light cargo in short,
quick hops around the Exalsee. Aside from the impressive engines, which stank
of a mineral oil that made Che feel queasy, there was no spare weight or
needless decoration in the airship’s design.
‘Here.’
Trallo handed her a spyglass. She took it, abruptly glum, and even looked into
it. She saw only blurs and smudges wheeling and dancing at the lens’s far end.
It made her think of Trallo’s little people.
‘Your
kinden …’ It was an awkward thing to ask. ‘Some of you are Inapt, yes?’ She
already knew it was so. She had even seen Fly seers in Tharn.
‘Hardly,’
Trallo said, nevertheless. ‘What use would they be?’
In Solarno things are different. Still, she stared at him
until he shrugged.
‘Oh a
few,’ he admitted. ‘A few are born each generation. Less and less, I’d guess.
They have a blasted hard time of it, I’d guess.’
‘Quite.’
She handed back the spyglass to him.
The Fighting Craidhen flew on through the night, and the
academics were given nothing but some blankets thrown over the bare boards of
the hold on which to sleep. Che made it plain she had no time for their
complaints. She had not explained to them why they had left Solarno so
precipitately. When Praeda questioned the wisdom of hiring Trallo, she had
likewise not been drawn into debate. To her astonishment, her fiat on such
matters was grudgingly accepted. They all think I know what
I’m doing! She could have laughed. I’m making it up
as I go along. She knew that Stenwold would have done better.
Trallo
came to shake her by the shoulder, a very little after dawn. She twitched awake
suddenly, reaching instinctively across the hard floor for a slight man who was
not there. For a moment she felt disoriented. Surely Achaeos had been kneeling
beside her only now. Where was she, and where had he gone?
The
avalanche of a year’s history brought her back, trading happy fantasy for hard
fact. ‘Oh,’ she said. ‘Oh, yes. What is it?’
The
Fly-kinden tugged his beard, which she recognized by now as a sign of good
humour. Leaving the academics to bicker, and the Vekken to their
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