Netheril - Dangerous Games Part 16

"Those are slates up there. Slippery. I've got a traction cantra, but you-why did your friend insist we get up high?"

"Don't know."

Crouched behind the chimney, Sunbright honed nicks from his sword blade while he waited for the guards to rush. "What are they waiting for?"

"Reinforcements. A dozen slingers and archers will fix their problem, which is us."

Sunbright nodded gloomily. Fatigue was catching up with him, too. He couldn't remember when he'd slept properly, what with nonstop threats and apocalyptic dreams. He heard dogs growling and snapping, hot to kill something, then shouts of joy as reinforcements arrived.

He tightened his sweaty grip on Harvester. For only the second time in his life, his sword dragged in his hands. The other time had been in h.e.l.l, where he might return any moment.

"What's that?" Knucklebones whispered as she peered at the roof behind him.

"What's what?" Sunbright only heard barking.

"That whirring noise...."

Even the guards heard it now. Dogs whined. Sunbright glanced up and saw a giant dragonfly flutter over the roof. Trapped inside it, as if half digested, was a bald, pudgy man.

"Candlemas?"

"Come on!" the thief called.

Energized, Knucklebones scrambled for a handhold, vaulted up to the slate roof, and over. Cursing, but curious, Sunbright bounded after her, slipping and sliding in his worn moosehide boots. He rolled over a section of coping and found himself on a flat, black roof warmed by the morning sun.

The giant insect had released Candlemas, Sunbright saw. Vomited him out as too fat, perhaps. The mage was waving them on, calling out, "Hurry up!"

To Sunbright's wonder, Knucklebones hopped into a wicker seat in the beast's belly. Candlemas began shoving the barbarian, who asked, "What are you doing?"

"Get in!" Candlemas ordered, "I'll see you off!"

"Off what? In what?"

"Shades of Shar, it's a flying machine! Like those golden winged things the Huntsmen use. Get in!"

"What?" the barbarian asked incredulously. "Where are we going?" Sunbright had planted his feet like a mule, and Candlemas couldn't budge him.

"You're going to fly to the surface. It's what you-"

"Fly?"

Candlemas grunted as he shoved. In her seat, Knucklebones fiddled with two sticks that tilted the wings in two directions.

"It's what you wanted!"

"But... I thought. . ." Sunbright was speechless. "I thought you'd just. . . wiggle your fingers and s.h.i.+ft us! Like you did back at Castle Delia."

"Have you got bugs in your brain? The whole enclave is warded against casual magic. You think they'd let people just s.h.i.+ft in and s.h.i.+ft out when everyone's terrified of a.s.sa.s.sination? You'd have to go through a transgate, and that's not possible! So, get-in!"

With the mage pus.h.i.+ng and the thief pulling, somehow they got tall Sunbright folded into the seat.

Candlemas began to shove the machine off the roof. Slowly it picked up speed, sliding on thin metal runners.

"I changed my mind!" Sunbright wailed.

"Too late! Good luck! Just steer the . . . whatever-they're-called and you'll spiral down like a maple seed!"

The barbarian tried to climb out, but Knucklebones clung to his vest.

"I'll take my chances with the dogs!" Sunbright screamed.

"What dogs?" Candlemas asked, then, "Aiieee!"

A pack of slavering guard dogs had bounded another way and been loosed onto the flat roof.

Howling, barking, growling, they dived for the two refugees in the glider. Candlemas had fallen on his face, and it was just as well, for a dozen dogs trampled over his back in a frenzy.

Sunbright reared back, crashed on his bottom in the wicker seat, knocking the flying machine so it tilted, then fell off the roof.

Everyone screamed at once, including a dog that had leaped into Sunbright's face. Knucklebones hauled back frantically on both sticks while Sunbright grappled the savage biting, kicking dog. With a tangled kick, he booted the animal straight up into the air.

A rattling gla.s.sy tingle sounded as the upper middle set of wings crumpled. The dog tumbled free to crash in the bushes of a garden below. The glider kept falling, soaring outward, skimming treetops, sc.r.a.ping a rocky slope.

Then it sailed off the edge of the floating mountain that was the Karsus enclave and soared into the free, naked, untrammeled air.

Sunbright screamed all the way down.

Chapter 14.

The barbarian couldn't see, but he could feel them dropping like a shot duck. He'd tumbled backward onto his rump into the woven seat, so his huge boots stuck out of the side of the tiny vehicle, almost as high as the crumpled wings. He was screaming that he didn't want to fly.

Knucklebones was shouting too. "Turn around, you idiot! Lean out there and grab that wing!"

"Lean out?"

Sunbright could barely hear her for the rush of air. The flitter hummed like a bowstring in the punis.h.i.+ng wind. But it wobbled, too, and waffled and sideslipped and spun and shuddered. They were falling, as Candlemas had said, in a spiral, like a maple seed, but the tubes and struts and flimsy wings vibrated so badly Sunbright's teeth clattered. Or perhaps that was fear.

"The d.a.m.ned wings got crumpled!" the thief shrilled. "Grab them before they break off and we fall!"

"We are falling!"

Sunbright scrambled to drag his boots in and get his rump in the seat rather than his shoulders. But the wild bucking made the task as difficult as mounting a running horse.

"I mean fall like a rock, you fool! We're almost gliding now!"

"What do you know about flying?"

She didn't look at him, but peered all around with her one good eye. Her hands were never still on the twin sticks that banked and tilted the wings.

"I know enough to waggle these sticks, and see where those wings are bent and not straight! Grab 'em or we're dead!"

She punched his shoulder for emphasis, the bra.s.s knuckles stinging.

What the h.e.l.l, the fighter thought. They were going to die anyway. And it wouldn't hurt much when they struck-no more than a cow felt the axe in its brain. Grabbing metal tubes not thicker than his fingers, he hauled himself upright- -and almost started screaming again.

The ground, the entire world, was much closer than it had looked from the inverted bear cave behind Knucklebones's stronghold. Yellow-green fields below gave way to dark forests on the slopes of the purpled mountains that loomed here and there. He wasn't sure of any direction because the whole scene swung in wide, wobbly circles. Below his outthrust boot was nothing but air. It was insanity to fly, he thought again. This was worse than clinging to a dragon's ear.

Another thump rapped his shoulder blades.

"Graaaaab!" Knucklebones shrieked.

Clumsily holding on with white knuckles, Sunbright craned overhead. The wings were fas.h.i.+oned of some clear material like gla.s.s, only pliable. Laced throughout them were thin wires like the veins in a dragonfly's wing. When the guard dog had crashed into the wings, they'd bent and fractured. Spidery cracks ran through them, and two ends were curled up. Swearing and praying-which was the sky G.o.d?-Sunbright unglued one of his hands, reached, and tugged at the wings overhead. They thrummed in his hand, like the flanks of a horse, and the barbarian reflected that the designers really had mimicked a dragonfly when they'd built these. He had to pull hard to drag the wings into position.

More of the gla.s.sy film crazed, and wires broke. The craft shuddered worse than before, and the barbarian felt terror that they might crumble in his hands.

But as he held on, amazingly, the craft stabilized. The worst of the jostling died away. Only a faint moan and hum was left. Knucklebones hissed as she tugged on the control sticks, but even Sunbright could tell the craft had leveled out, no longer diving, but properly gliding. The ground was so close he saw crows flap out of the tops of elm trees at their approach. Maybe they'd live. The barbarian sighed with relief, "Thank the G.o.ds!" he said, and let go of the wings.

"Don't let go!" screamed Knucklebones.

Twin snaps sounded like whipcracks and immediately they plummeted again.

"Whooooaaa!" Sunbright screamed as he grabbed wildly for the wings, but the fractured parts snapped off and blew away. As they disappeared, long strips were torn off, then the topmost pair split down their length. He s.n.a.t.c.hed for the edges to hold them in place, but they crumbled into splinters.

Knucklebones was screaming hysterically, something about, "-going to hit-"

Trees reared up and clawed at them like monsters with giant, leafy hands. Branches snapped and ripped and slashed. The flitter disintegrated around them. Sunbright made a wild s.n.a.t.c.h for Knucklebones, to see if he could pull her against his chest, but she was gone. Tubes and wires studded with leaves crashed into his face, smothering him, striking his skull.

Daylight dappled by leaves fluttered before Sunbright's heavy eyelids. His head throbbed abominably, so badly it jarred him awake. He reached to rub his temples and found his arm pinned. It burned too, as if scorched by fire, and ached in a few spots. In fact, all of him ached. But he didn't worry about that-pain never killed anyone, his teachers had loved to note-but being pinned did.

No matter their situation, they had to get clear of this wreck quickly.

Struggling, kicking, grasping, all silently, he fought to open his eyes and clamber free of whatever mess he was tangled in.

Rotating his head, he slowly pieced together the scene, learning among other things that he hung upside down. The flitter had crashed in the branches of an elm tree and still hung there, perhaps thirty feet above the ground. It was in shreds, much of the framework wrapped around his body, with steel fittings and iron leaf edges cutting cruelly. Blood welled in several places, so he'd been unconscious for only a few minutes. Nothing seemed broken, but he ached so much it was hard to be sure.

He cast about for Knucklebones, found her under his right hand, also wrapped in split wicker and tubing. He wondered vaguely if some protection spell didn't linger in the framework, some ward that wrapped the flyers and s.h.i.+elded them in a crash. It wouldn't surprise him. Nothing did when it came to the Netherese and magic.

The warrior gave an experimental rock to see if the flitter dropped any farther, but it hung firm. It had fallen as far as possible and fetched up tight. Carefully prying with strong blood-smeared fingers, he twisted the framework away until he could sit up. Breathing fully again, with his head no longer throbbing, he ripped and tore to free Knucklebones, after first leaning by her cheek to make sure she was still alive, breathing. Her eye patch had ridden up on her forehead. The bad eye was exposed, milky white, with no pupil, and vaguely familiar, though Sunbright couldn't place the vision.

Grimacing, he slid the dark leather tenderly in place before tugging her free of the wreckage.

He made a quick check for weapons and found Harvester still home in its back scabbard, Dorlas's war-hammer still holstered-he was glad he'd taken the time to st.i.tch them so well-and Knucklebones still had her elven knife. Two blades would keep them alive.

Sunbright hoisted her in one brawny arm. As an afterthought, he wrenched loose a hunk of tubing laced with delicate wires. He could already think of many uses for it. Little else comprised the flyer, and that was smashed to flinders, so he climbed down the tree. Knucklebones was hardly a burden.

Sunbright judged she weighed about as much as a lynx. She was certainly as feisty.

Clutching her rag doll limpness, holding overhead with a scratched arm, he crabwalked along a branch, reached the trunk, and picked his way down one-handed. Finally he jumped the last five feet, and felt an unexpected jolt of joy at feeling the earth-the real Earthmother-under his feet. The rush was so exhilarating he wanted to shout with pleasure. Instead, he scanned his surroundings, looking and listening, then trotted away with Knucklebones across his shoulder.

He'd gone about two miles, mostly uphill and away from watercourses, toward a knot of pines that topped the next hill, when she began to stir, then fuss and struggle to be put down. Sunbright only cooed, "Rest. I'll carry you to safety. We must keep moving."

But she objected, pus.h.i.+ng and shoving feebly, squirming so much he finally set her down. She promptly collapsed, but caught herself before tasting turf. Sunbright waited patiently for her to orient, meanwhile he honed Harvester, though it was already razor sharp.

"Where . . . are we?" she groaned, shook her head, and sc.r.a.ped at blood from scratches around her eye.

"A forest." he answered casually. "I'm taking us to cover while scouting for materials."

"Cover? Why? Enemies? Materials?"

Even though her body was weak, her brain fought to defend itself by asking questions, gathering information.

Sunbright didn't argue, just sheathed Harvester, plucked her up across both shoulders like a gutted deer, and trotted quicker uphill. The trees here were maples, their rustling leaves heavier on the south facing side. By jogging from trunk to trunk and slipping behind to the side with fewer branches, he could zigzag quickly.

"I don't know what kind of enemies to expect," he whispered as he puffed along. "But once the forest settles back from that disruption, everything from shrews to vultures will come scavenging. I'd rather learn what's about from a distance."

"What... materials?"

"Flint, a likely spear, moss, alder or willow or ash-"

"Flint?" her groggy voice came to his left ear. Despite the rough trip, her head was comfortably pillowed on her hand. "Start fires? What's . .. moss?"

"No, to make spearheads. Gray flint will do to start. It's easier to flake. White or yellow is better, but I doubt we'll find any this high. We need a streambed for that. Moss is for wounds, to keep down infection, and to disguise the smell. But I dislike these woods. The signs are odd."

"Odd ... ?" But she lapsed out again.

Panting, but glad to run freely for miles without limit, Sunbright reached the knot of pines atop the hill. Crouching, he wove his head back and forth until he found what he wanted: a blowdown. One of the taller trees had toppled in a strong storm. Circling the crater left when the roots ripped out, Sunbright tracked along the high trunk until he found a slot they could slide under. Laying Knucklebones gently on fallen brown needles-how he loved their smell!-he plied the war-hammer to break off brittle branches, then laid them b.u.t.t up against the trunk. In minutes he'd cleared a s.p.a.ce big enough to prop Knucklebones against the tree. Turning outside, he broke and laid more branches, and heaped pine needles across the top, but carefully, so as not to dig up deeper needles with their darker color.

He slipped inside, found that the lean-to let him sit up. He piled more needles around Knucklebones for warmth, for she was still groggy. A strut-shaped lump had formed across her forehead, turning a livid purple.

"Stay here and keep quiet," he instructed. "I'll fetch us food." The handful of rations he'd picked from Candlemas's tray had been lost when his haversack was torn in the tree.

Knucklebones started to protest, but slipped into unconsciousness again. When she awoke, Sunbright was hunkered close. Sun slanted through the brown roof at a low angle. She'd slept most of the afternoon away. In the meantime, Sunbright had been busy. He had a brace of dead rabbits and a porcupine, an ingeniously folded box of birch bark that held water, two long, slim staves, and various rocks of different colors. He was industriously slicing a rabbit with his belt knife against a slab of bark, eating every other slice.

The barbarian extended a red hand with a thin strip. Wordlessly the thief took it, though she made a face.

"Can you eat it raw?" he asked.

"I've eaten sewer rats," she replied. "But we always cooked them."

"I won't risk a fire yet. I don't like the looks of these woods."