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40 - If We Ask Nicely

* * *

Suni

The crawl through the Evergrass, then the swim through the spring back into the outpost, had turned out to be a decent bath. Or, the closest thing to one I’d had since leaving Lekarsos. Senesio didn’t seem to enjoy it as much as me, but the kinda-bath, combined with my extreme exhaustion from the events of the day, meant I slept like a dead person. It was the first night of safe sleep I’d had since the Stormcrow had come crashing out of the sky.

I dreamed of Professor Symeos and the college, the days before all of this mess. They felt so distant now.

In the morning, we held a funeral for the sergeant. Wasn’t much of a ceremony, just burying him along the edge of the palisade and saying a few words. Maritza had fashioned some charred sticks into grave markers for the rest who hadn’t made it. Ancestors above, so many, already.

Aristos, he’d been first. A fine soldier, I’m told, if a bit quiet. To survive the Stormcrow’s crash just to get eaten by the komodo. That was a poor way to go. I shuddered to imagine that fate. Not that the next had been any better.

Leda. Intense, bold, and proud. She hadn’t deserved what had happened to her either. Gone into the Thick, never to see the sky again.

Lastly, there was Sergeant Kyriakos. The most recent death and the one I felt responsible for. If only I’d waited a moment longer before running, had made doubly sure all of the terror birds were following me, maybe things would have been different.

I hadn’t seen the sergeant’s death, but from what I’d been told, it’d been ugly. And poor Theo...

I looked over at her. Her stony expression revealed none of the emotions I was sure were roiling inside her. But what she’d done had been for the best. Everyone knew it, and so did she. I only hoped she could find solace in that; could live with the impossible decision she’d been forced to make. Probably it wouldn’t help, but I would do her justice. I would write of her heroics. And Aristos’, too. And Leda. And even Maritza, who was still alive, and had managed to save us all by crash-landing the Stormcrow. A report was required to be filed for every expedition and I was going to make sure this one told the truth. Every bit of it. I would make sure the heroes who had died out here were remembered. Would make sure the college, and the empire, and anyone who cared to listen, would know the sacrifices that had been made. This morning had been the first time I’d had a few moments to sit and gather myself. Part of me had wanted to use it to do nothing, but that wasn’t an option. I took notes instead. Put my only-slightly-broken reservoir quill to use and wrote down everything I could remember in my journal. Standard practice when on expedition, but this wasn’t a standard expedition. With everything that was happening, it was a miracle I could remember as far back as the day we’d set out from Lekarsos. These notes were going to be more important than ever, assuming any of us made it out of here.

There was one final grave marker in the little row of them and I found I wasn’t sure who it was for. Who was I forgetting?

Captain Barba.

Ah, right. She’d died even before Aristos. I tried to conjure some sympathy for her, but even I had limits. She’d left me for dead; had been willing to sacrifice Senesio and Demetrias and me to the komodo. Maybe it’d been a sensible decision, maybe it’d been a necessary sacrifice, but Senesio’s math still held up. Save the crew by sacrificing three people, or one? The answer to that question was an easy one, and not just because it’d spared my own life.

An angry growl drew me from my thoughts. Elpida was standing over the prisoner we’d captured. Agostos, he’d said his name was. He looked terrified now, arms and legs bound to a post, and Elpida leaning over him looking none too happy.

“You’re gonna tell it quick, you’re gonna tell it straight, and you’re gonna leave out the bull. Waste my time with lies and I won’t think twice about dangling you from the top of the stakewall. Let the terror birds come back and—”

“No, no please!” Agostos’ already wide eyes went wider still. “Whatever you want, ask. Just please, don’t hurt me.”

“Not exactly a tough nut to crack,” Gabar said.

“I didn’t sign on for this,” Agostos said, speaking so quickly he could hardly get the words out. “I was just a sailor working the cargo routes. Earning coin and sending it back home. I didn’t ask to be assigned here. I—”

Elpida tapped him in the stomach with the toe of her boot. Not too hard, but enough to stop his blabbering. He looked up at her and swallowed hard.

“You’re Bospurian,” she said. “That’s plain enough to see.” And it was. Not from his uniform—he wore no markings of nation or rank—but from his thick, curly black beard, curved nose, and narrow, sharp cheekbones. Us Cyphites were known to be shorter on average, with broad shoulders and wide faces. The Bospurians tended to be taller, thinner, and, admittedly, a bit less hairy.

“Care to tell me what Bospur is doing in the Far Wild? Particularly, what in the hell you’re doing shooting down Cyphite skyships?” Elpida said. “You idiots trying to start a war?”

“We didn’t want to attack anyone, we were just following orders.”

Stolen story; please report.

“That’s not good enough,” Elpida said, bending down and leaning right up close to him. “Let’s try again. I’m gonna ask a question and you’re gonna answer. And save your excuses.”

Agostos swallowed again, then nodded.

“What business does Bospur have in the Far Wild?”

“We found magnesia ore.”

That caught my attention. Caught everyone else’s too. If the Bospurians were being this bold, it meant they hadn’t just found a small amount of magnesia ore. But it didn’t explain why they were shooting down our skyships. Why they’d been after Kamil.

“How much magnesia ore?” I asked, stepping over the prisoner.

“I don’t know. The higher-ups seem to think it could be something, though.”

“But you said the ore has already been found?” I asked.

“Bits of it, yeah.” Agostos nodded emphatically. “Just little pieces in the Solimikos River, but the commanders think it can be harvested. They have some academic working to find a way.”

I cursed before I could stop myself. The Solimikos River basin was where Kamil had been conducting his survey. Where he’d written his report about. And the soldier from yesterday, the one that had recognized the sigil of the Imperial College on my coat, he’d said something about taking me too. Too. Implying they had taken someone else. Someone else wearing the sigil of the college. My stomach dropped at the thought.

“This academic—they’re Bospurian?” I asked.

Agostos shook his head.

“Some Cyphite. I don’t know him.”

Ancestors above.

“They have Kamil.” The thought was somehow a relief; meant he wasn’t alone out in the wilderness. But it also meant he was in the hands of the enemy. Of the Bospurians.

“They must have captured him when they shot down the Panagia,” Theo said. “But what do they want with him?”

Ancestors above. Kamil had been right. The Bospurians had been after him.

“They tried to steal his report back in Lekarsos. It detailed a theory he had that the trace amounts of magnesia ore in the Solimikos river could be harvested in enough volume to build more skyship engines. But it fell through. It wasn’t possible.”

“It would appear the Bospurians aren’t ready to give up on that idea,” Elpida said. “It would seem they believe in it enough to attack our ships, to risk touching off a war.”

Agostos nodded quickly, all too ready to spill secrets to preserve his life.

“The regional commander has supplies being brought in, and workers, too. From what I heard they’re going to fortify the whole camp. Palisades, watch towers, an airfield, and soldiers to defend it all.”

“They’re going to turn the thing into a colony,” Demetrias said.

“And this place into a war zone,” Gabar growled.

Elpida, however, only chuckled.

I looked sideways at her. Why was she laughing?

“They’re going to turn this place into a feast,” she laughed. “All those troops? All those workmen?” She laughed louder this time, grabbed a breath between chortles. “Easy prey for the predators out here. You think stakewalls will keep them out? You ever seen an impaler climb?”

My mind flashed back to massive lung scorpion Senesio had brought to the college.

“You ever seen the size of a komodo?”

I was back in the wreckage of the Stormcrow, cowering as the komodo ripped and tore its way in, closer every moment, hot breath washing over me.

“You ever seen a flock of teratornises? Vultures with wings twice as long as a man is tall, and tempers just as big? You think stakewalls are going to keep them out? You think sharpened steel and javelins are going to protect you?” Elpida continued laughing. “Lekarsos is surrounded on three sides by water and a palisade on the fourth, and we still can’t keep predators out. We’re on the coast, too. But you lot? Setting up that deep into the wild? Shit.” She crossed her arms and stopped laughing, face going serious. “The emperor doesn’t need to send troops. All he has to do is wait. Give it a season or two and there’ll be nothing left but picked-over bodies.”

If Agostos had seemed terrified before, he was positively shaking now.

“I’m not a soldier. I... I just signed on to move goods, make a steady paycheck.”

Elpida looked down at him, leering with one eyebrow raised.

“Doesn’t matter what you signed on for, kid, you’re in the thick of it now. Just as stuck as we are.” She pointed north. “Say you start walking that way. Say you survive the predators, the illness, and find enough food not to starve, it’ll be three weeks before you hit Lekarsos.

“Or, I know, the outpost has some canoes. Maybe you take those, paddle through the Evergrass to the coast. That’ll only take a week. Of course, you’d first have to navigate the endless sawgrass labyrinth of sloughs and dead ends. Then, once you’re through, your canoe won’t be worth a swindler’s swear in the ocean, which is a shame, seeing as you’d have to cross a good bit of it to get back to Lekarsos.”

She paused a moment, just long enough to draw in a breath.

“Oh, you know what? Why don’t we fly out? That’d make sense, yeah? I can think of four skyships out here. Only problem is your people shot down two of them,” she said, counting with her fingers. “Disabled the third, and keep trying to bloody well kill us with the fourth.”

Agostos’ head had slunk back into his neck with each point Elpida had made. Now, it was near gone entirely. Made him look like the world’s most terrified turtle, except for his beard. The world’s most terrified bearded turtle, maybe.

He mumbled something, but it was too quiet to hear. I leaned closer.

“Come again?”

Agostos repeated himself, marginally louder.

“There’s another way out. Another skyship, the Dreadbore. It patrols our camp and the surroundings. And, and there’s another one on the way from Bospur. The Drossomer, a cargo hauler. It’s scheduled to arrive in a few days.”

Elpida’s scowl lessened somewhat at that, her eyes going distant as if she was thinking. The rest of the group reacted to the news as well, some with curiosity, others with hope, and Gabar with a curse.

“More damned Bospurians.”

And that was about right. So what if there were more skyships out here? That was just bad news for us. Stacked the odds even more against us.

Senesio stepped up from where he’d been listening toward the back of the group. Unusual for him to be so uninvolved—but now, it was all too easy to tell he was planning something.

He clapped a hand down on Gabar’s shoulder, then another on Elpida’s. Both scowled at him. He met their looks with a wide smile.

There was a glint in his eye that I was beginning to recognize all too well.

“By my count, our Bospurian friends have three skyships out here. I’m sure, if we ask nicely, they won’t mind letting us borrow one.”