Sword of Fire and Sea (The Chaos Knight Book One) (29 page)

Thalnarra snarled something menacing and incomprehensible at Altair.

Altair ignored her and shouted to Vidarian. //
Jump!
//

“He's got to be kidding,” Ruby breathed.

“He's not,” Vidarian said, knowing it through his core. He took a deep breath, unhooked his safety harness, and vaulted over the side of the craft.

He fell, and instinctively spread his arms and legs. The craft disappeared over his head, and below him ranged the clouds, astonishingly lovely, and the advancing Sky Knights in their formations.

//
Blow the whistle!
// the gryphon shouted, breaking him out of his astonishment.

Vidarian blew into the crystal whistle, a long breath that echoed in his ears, in his blood, in his skin. A gale swept through him, and out of reflex he tried to shape the energy, but it flowed through him like wind itself, slipping through his fingers unmoved. Altair
caught
the energy, wrapping himself around it and dancing with it, teasing it into going where he wanted.

//
Beautiful
, // the gryphon whispered, and then, as an afterthought, it seemed, juggled Vidarian into the reach of the wind's grasp. They stopped falling, and Vidarian arced in a curve, “flying” as if of his own volition just above Altair's wings. He drifted downward, featherlike, until he was touching the gryphon's back, taking a hold on the thick feathers at the base of his neck. The sphere of energy that surrounded them, allowing Altair unnatural strength in the air, was the clearest and most exhilarating Vidarian had ever breathed.

Then he looked down. The ground was
awfully
far away.…

//
Try not to think about it
, // Altair advised. Vidarian nodded numbly.

“We need to distract them!” he shouted over the roar of the wind, and Altair sent a wave of agreement.

//
This will be a little dodgy
, // Altair warned, then dove before Vidarian had a chance to answer.

They plummeted through the knights, who had stopped advancing when they saw Vidarian leap from the craft, and Vidarian's heart flew into his throat. Altair, loose, had unnerved the knights, indicated by their raised lances—but Altair, diving, claws outstretched, utterly scattered them. Feathers, horseflesh, and plated armor slid past them, and as their sphere of Air passed through, knights fell to either side in its wake. One was unhorsed, and plummeted, screaming—his horse dove after him, and they disappeared together into the clouds.

Then they were below the formations, and the sky opened up beneath them. Far below, the ground was green and wreathed with rivers, bizarrely peaceful, wisps of white cloud streaking by Altair's wings. He backwinged, slowing, and gravity flattened Vidarian against the gryphon's back. Then Altair folded one wing entirely, rolling sideways in the air. Vidarian clung for his life, his grip tight around the thick feather-shafts, knowing the sphere of air would adhere him to Altair but hardly trusting it.

The gryphon's wings opened again as they came to the side of the amassed knights, which as a group had reoriented upon them as the greater danger—and Vidarian as their instructed target. Altair whistled, and the sphere of energy seized around them again, and lifted them. His wings rowed the air, and they shot up above the knights; Altair extended a claw as they passed, tearing open the flank of a black horse that screamed in response and fell away from the group, its wings faltering.

Now they were above the group, again, and as Vidarian looked down over Altair's strongly pumping right wing he saw that the gryphon had positioned them squarely over the commander. This was it. For a split second his mind reeled at the sight of something few westerners had ever seen: a Sky Knight commander and her royal mount, its black coat glittering with signature iridescence, its feathered wings, crest, and tail bright with fierce health. The creature's body dwarfed the commander, who was no small woman—it was easily a quarter again the size of the other horses.

//
Remember that you must control the beast once you're upon it!
// Altair shouted. The “hand” supporting Vidarian suddenly fell away, and Vidarian was plummeting toward the horse and rider.

The commander and the knights surrounding her were looking up as Vidarian fell toward them, their swords and lances raised. Vidarian bent himself to one side, turning in the air, getting his feet underneath him—and only just managed to swerve to one side of the commander's arcing sword. An arm of wind whistled by his head, and the commander shouted as her sword was struck from her grasp, her wrist snapping back painfully in an attempt to retain it. The weapon spun through the air, disappearing below them.

Vidarian fell heavily onto the rear of the horse, which shrieked and kicked in response to his weight. He threw his arms around the commander's waist, grappling with her for the reins. Her armored elbow came up in a defensive maneuver and nearly knocked him senseless, and then she was swiveling in the saddle to bring her other fist around in a punishing strike. He managed to dodge that one, but was quickly losing his balance.

Around them, the other knights were shouting, and she shouted something back at them, then dug her heels into the horse. It leapt forward in response, and she shouted another command, sending it into a dive. Her practiced legs clamped around the beast's barrel, but Vidarian felt himself lifted out of the saddle, and grabbed the nearest object to hand—the commander's helmet.

She jerked her head, and the helmet came free, leaving him hanging in midair as she clung like a barnacle to the horse's back and directed it to roll beneath her. Horse and rider spun to one side, and Vidarian curled into a fetal position in the air to protect himself from the flashing hooves that now lashed out at him.

An aquiline shriek, and Altair swooped by him, white feathers a blur. Then he flared his wings, rising beneath Vidarian, supporting him with the shield of air.

Vidarian had just started to breathe again when the grip of the energy sphere began to falter.

A flash of strength blew Vidarian away from Altair, and then he was falling again, striking the gryphon's back—and the sphere went out entirely.

He fell onto Altair's back again, and the gryphon squawked with frustration as Vidarian's weight bore them steadily toward the ground. His wings labored, but only for a few fruitless moments—he was simply not strong enough to bear a full-grown man on his back.

Above them, the knights were rallying, and one group of them followed Vidarian and Altair while another broke off to pursue the craft. Vidarian gave a yell of despair, for the moment thinking more of Ruby and Ariadel, helpless in the craft, than of his own dire predicament.

They were falling relentlessly. Altair held out his wings, but only in token—fearful, Vidarian knew, that if he fully extended his wings, their combined weight would snap them, sending them both into a deadly spiral toward the ground. Vidarian pulled the whistle from where it flapped beside his head on its strand, and blew it, but to no response, its power spent.

//
Hold on!
// Altair shouted, somewhat extraneously, Vidarian thought. But then he was squashing his own impulse to ask if they were about to die. Instead he did as he was told, gripping Altair's neck-feathers tightly again.

Overhead, a scream—an animal one, as it turned out. Half of a black wing dropped past them, followed by a spray of blood—and a plummeting horse and rider. The cut was clean, a precise cut from a sword. Ruby, it would seem, was not entirely helpless in the craft above. Even under the circumstances, the thought was comforting.

The ground swooped closer below them. Altair was drawing his wings and limbs closer to his body now, controlling their fall, angling them forward. The tops of trees came clear beneath them, deadly arms reaching up to catch them, and not kindly.

//
BRACE YOURSELF!
// Altair's voice thundered in Vidarian's mind, uncontrolled, and as they whipped past the first branches of the tall trees, the gryphon let loose a blast of raw air energy, pushing toward the ground, cushioning them.

They crashed into the undergrowth, slowed by the expanding radius of Air, but hardly stopped. Branches whipped past Vidarian's face, tearing at his skin, and then the ground hit them, knocking the wind from his chest and blackening his vision.

All was still.

Distantly, the cries of the battle above them raged on, while Vidarian grasped for consciousness. Some lengths away, something crashed to the ground—a Sky Knight, and a dead one, he hoped. Beside him, Altair was struggling to his feet, and gave a high and piercing scream of pain as he did so.

Vidarian's vision came back slowly, and he moved each of his hands and feet, groaning as he did so, but with relief when they moved as he asked them to. “Altair?” he gasped, his breath still not recovered.

//
Right wing
, // the gryphon mumbled. //
Broken, I think.
//

Something else crashed into the forest some distance from them, this time to the left.

They began to realize slowly that there were too many cries in the air. Horses couldn't make those noises—and there were only two gryphons.

Vidarian looked up slowly.

High overhead, framed by the gap they'd made in the brush with their fall, a battle was raging in the air.

The flying craft was angling toward the ground, forgotten. Above it, at least twenty gryphons were diving upon the knights, slashing with beaks and claws, wreaking havoc in the sky.

//
Thalnarra's pride
, // Altair said in wonder, relief drowning out pain.

T

But for each hit the knights scored, the gryphons took three more—and in spite of the lieutenant's bold “death before retreat” claim, the commander evidently thought differently, and called a retreat when a third of her riders had fallen and only two gryphons had been injured. In spite of their violence, Vidarian almost pitied them when the gryphons moved to give chase to the fleeing riders—but one of the gryphons gave a screeching command, and those pursuing fell back with the group.

The gryphons above had moved into a circling perimeter when a rustling thump some distance away drew Vidarian and Altair's attention back to the ground. Altair started to move, then cried out in pain as his wounded wing convulsed. “Stay here,” Vidarian said, and foraged through the brush.

The presence of the gate pulled on his mind. The storm sapphires, since they had crashed into the brush, had been a constant dull roar of activity, pulling the energy of the gate toward them. A rolling susurrus filled his thoughts but he blinked past it, bearing down with his will. But they were close, and the stones yearned to fulfill their function, whatever it might be.

He came upon the
Destiny
in an open meadow, where it had landed and now tilted to one side. Ruby was outside the craft unharnessing Thalnarra and Arikaree with one hand. Her other hand was at her side, where it staunched blood around the poultice—her wound had reopened in the action. Vidarian leapt over the knee-high grasses and ran toward them, taking Ruby's place in the unharnessing. She gave a gasp of relief when she saw him.

“We saw you go down,” she said, looking him over for damage.

“I'm fine, but Altair is injured,” he said. “He thinks his right wing is broken.” With the gryphons unharnessed, he leaned over the rim of the flight craft, checking Ariadel's safety straps and blankets. Her eyes fluttered open, and his heart leapt, but moments later she closed them again, sound asleep.

//
We are watching Ariadel
, // Arikaree said. Vidarian turned to him and started forward when he saw the blood seeping sluggishly from a shallow wound at the pelican-gryphon's shoulder, but Arikaree waved him away with a gesture of his long beak. //
He be needing you more now. Be taking medical kit from craft.
// Vidarian followed his instructions and fished a leather satchel of medical supplies from the
Destiny
.

//
Show me
, // Thalnarra said, shaking out her feathers. Vidarian looked at Ruby, who nodded agreement, and Vidarian foraged back through the grass toward Altair, following the trail of flattened foliage he'd left moments before.

When Thalnarra caught sight of where Altair crouched, his wing crumpled at his side, she surged ahead of Vidarian and began inspecting the other gryphon. She crouched at each of his sides and moved her talons over him, looking but not touching. Both of their eyes pinned and flared in silent conversation.

//
Now who's crazy?
// Thalnarra said, probably for Vidarian's benefit, and for a second Vidarian was swallowed in the traumatic memory of their fall from the sky. He gave a shake of his head and opened the medical satchel.

Under Thalnarra's guidance, Vidarian gave Altair a dried pod of some vegetable from the satchel that within moments had the gryphon disoriented and relaxed. They maneuvered his broken wing into a proper fold with only the occasional yelp of pain—loudest when they moved the large bone between his wrist and shoulder back into alignment. As painful as it was to have broken that bone, Thalnarra seemed relieved—the more delicate pair of bones at the leading edge of his wing, she said, would have created a much more serious break.

At length they splinted the now-straightened broken bone with a cut sapling, then folded Altair's wing against his body and bound it there with lengths of silk bandage. When they were done, he hadn't yet recovered from the dried pod medicine, so Thalnarra waited with him in the forest while Vidarian returned to the downed craft.

When he came upon the meadow, he found not just one pelican-gryphon waiting there, but a goodly portion of Thalnarra's pride—including Kaltak and Ishrak. The rest of the gryphons were goshawk-type—it was startlingly like seeing a dozen Thalnarras until their minute differences became clear—and so the brothers stuck out with their brown feathers and long feathered legs.

The two young gryphons bounded up to Vidarian as soon as he crossed into the meadow. They clearly had been cleaning themselves up, but the remnants of blood shone red-black on their talons and beaks. Vidarian had seen them with fresh-killed prey before, but never with the heightened blood of battle, their ruffs puffed out, their eyes flashing. He wondered how much of the blood on their talons was human, and decided he'd rather not know.

//
Greetings, brother!
// Kaltak chirped, his tufted ears flicked forward in happy excitement.

“Good to see you, my friend,” Vidarian said, holding out his hand for Kaltak to press his beak to in greeting. The smooth, curved killing instrument felt familiar now, and Vidarian realized how much his life had changed. His gaze drifted to the other gryphons, shocked again at how very much like Thalnarra they looked—though, if it was possible to be sure at this distance, none of them seemed to have her red eyes. But in form and size they were as similar to her as the brothers were to each other.

They weren't always like that
, the Starhunter whispered.
Everything has come so far apart. Separated. Boxes, little boxes…
She started humming an extremely annoying tune, and Vidarian tried to block her out.

//
Ishrak has had his first battle!
// Kaltak said, and the younger brother dipped his head in acknowledgment. //
We aren't Thalnarra's pride, but she allowed us to join them for Ishrak's sake, and on account of us knowing you.
// The young gryphon was practically garrulous, his energy clearly excited by the action they'd seen.

“Congratulations,” Vidarian told Ishrak, not sure what else to say.

The smaller brother's cheek-feathers puffed out in shy pleasure. //
We should return to our duties
, // he said. //
They're clearing the field and setting up a camp.
// Kaltak looked disappointed but couldn't argue, and the brothers turned back to their tasks.

It was no mean thing, it turned out, to support an entire pride of gryphons, even for a largely under-hunted wild area that had known no gryphons for some time, perhaps even centuries. To Vidarian's horror, they proceeded to eat the slain horses, though mercifully not within sight of the camp. The riders they buried, those that they could find—after a quick calculation Vidarian was quite sure that more still lay fallen. He wasn't much for prayer, but considering that she'd been instrumental in saving his life, he said a brief blessing for the knights to their air goddess, Siane.

Much good she did them
, the Starhunter chuckled.

As if you're doing better
, he thought viciously at her, even as he berated himself for letting her get to him.

That's hardly my fault
, she said, and the hurt in her voice seemed oddly genuine, if—as all things seemed to be with her—fleeting.
They locked me back here. How am I supposed to do anyone any good? I can hardly think with these irksome bird-people everywhere
.

Though she'd been given to exaggeration, such a specific fabrication tugged at his mind as unlikely.
There are gryphons back there?
But surely Thalnarra would not oppose the gate opening if she knew there were gryphons trapped…

Not gryphons!
she snapped.
Then I might have had some conversation. Just…well, look!

She seized his mind, and Vidarian abruptly found himself somewhere else.

It was dark, and the darkness receded into infinity, a shadow that came from nowhere. Surrounding them, just out of reach, were glimmering presences, fascinating little lights. He found himself reaching toward them, stretching himself, expanding.

No, no
, a voice said crossly.
This!

And there they were, thousands of them, millions! Uncountable faces, bodies, almost human—but covered with feathers.

See! Bird-people! What are you calling them now
…

Their faces were haunted, tortured. Some of them seemed to see him, others did not. A collective murmur rose up from them, and when those nearest caught sight of him, the murmur increased into a roar.

Oh, great
, the Starhunter sighed.
You'd better go back
.

And then he was back, the sounds of the meadow sudden in his ears, the smell of the earth, the warmth of the sun on his skin, chased by a moist forest breeze.

Back in his own mind, he also realized what he'd seen, if indeed it was real. Statues of winged humans littered Val Harlon, beaks on their faces where noses and mouths should be, their hair wrought in fanciful plumes that stood up from their foreheads like crests. Could the world have forgotten an entire people?

Thalnarra stepped into the meadow, holding back a branch with her beak so that Altair could gingerly follow. He winced as he stepped into the sunlit meadow, his eyes still wide from the pain medicine.

The world hadn't forgotten, Vidarian realized. Humans had.

He reached out with his Sense as easily as he would have with his hand, but this reached much farther, brushed up against Thalnarra's presence at the meadow's edge. She flared up instinctively, a shield of fire energy lifting around her, ready for attack. Vidarian was already walking toward her, but stopped a stone's throw away.

“Tell me about the bird-people, Thalnarra,” he said. “Tell me what else the gryphons know and have kept from us.”

Her aura dimmed as she took in his question, then dropped entirely, metaphysical arms falling to her sides.

//
They made a decision
, // she said, and Vidarian already disliked where this was going. //
Centuries ago. When the gate was closed, they went in before the Starhunter—all of them. It was the only way to trick her inside.
//

“And they're still there.”

//
Presumably they would be. Though what would be left…
//

“How many, Thalnarra?”

//
Two million, we believe
, // she said, the words pulled from her.

Sounds about right. Though some of them aren't right in the head
, the Starhunter giggled.
Maybe they count for halves? In that case it's only one million
.

“And they suffer.”

//
No one knows that.
//

“I can
hear
them, Thalnarra!”

The gryphoness bridled, undaunted. //
Would you undo their sacrifice? All that they gave to win peace in our world?
//

“A peace in which the strong prey upon the weak, and power is relegated to a chosen few.”

//
She fills your head with lies!
//

“So far,” Vidarian said, “I don't think she's lied to me yet.”

“Vidarian,” Ruby was calling—and the edge in her voice quickened Vidarian's pulse. He ran toward the
Destiny
, where Ruby bent over the rim of the craft. Within, Ariadel was trembling, her skin sickeningly pale. “She's fading,” Ruby said, pain lacing her voice. “It takes them so fast. I'm sorry, Vidarian.”

His jaw tightened. “I need to get to the gate.” He looked up at Ruby, and she nodded, wordless.

They emptied the craft of all its contents save Ariadel and her blankets, lightening it enough to lift between them like a large gurney. Vidarian buckled his sword at his side, stowed in the craft for flight. While they worked, the gryphons were circled in intense conference of some kind, a passionate one punctuated often by clacking beaks and flared wings. When Ruby and Vidarian lifted the craft, Vidarian pointed them toward the east, where the sapphires told him the gate waited. He expected Thalnarra to follow, expected the burst of renewed fury that was sure to come with her—but the gryphons only watched him, and when they did follow, it was at a distance, peaceful but ominous.