The Children of the Sky

Oobii’s multi-species designer. This was a weapon for humans. “Do you have some changes to suggest?”

“I could put my mind to it.” Again, he glanced down through the windows. “If we have to waste time, at least we can do it right.” He pulled blank paper from one of his panniers and began sketching. “Hmm, a longer barrel would improve accuracy and make the gun easier to shoot and hold and service. …”

Over the next ten minutes the two of them—mainly Scrupilo, since Ravna was a dunce at design without Oobii—worked out a number of features. Not surprisingly, what they came up with looked a lot more like a crew-served weapon than a hand gun. “But I’m sure a single human would be quite proficient with it. Then—” He looked up, as if listening. All Ravna heard was the continuing bang of the drop forge—but the one of Scrupilo still by the window was scrunched against the glass, trying to look straight down.

Okay, he was waiting for someone. Ravna crossed the room and leaned close to the glass, blocking the reflected room lighting with her hands. The flashes from the forge shone through the rain. Freezing water glittered as it fell from the lab’s eaves. Looking down in the direction of Scrupilo’s gaze, she could see the flight of rickety wooden stairs that zigzagged up the quarry wall to Scrupilo’s office. Twilight showed dark shapes ascending single- file. It looked like three packs. A flash of light from the forge revealed that the middle pack was a sevensome, all in heavy raincloaks, including one wee member who rode the shoulders of the largest. Queen Woodcarver.

Woodcarver’s first bodyguard emerged on the landing just outside Scrupilo’s door. Ravna didn’t recognize the pack. After a moment it spread around the outside of the building, watching in all directions. Then, one at a time, Woodcarver popped up. She stood for a moment under the portico, removing her raincloaks and shaking off the water that had made it through to her pelts. She gave Ravna a sharp look, then came indoors, bringing a frigid bloom of air with her.

“Spring is the worst season,” she said. “It shouldn’t visit us in winter.” Two of her were looking directly at Ravna. The Puppy from Hell was staring at Scrupilo’s labware, a destructive gleam in its eye. “But you have much more extreme environments aspace, don’t you, Ravna?”

“Yes, though they’re so extreme that adequate protection generally means visitors don’t suffer the way we do here.” We’re actually having a civil conversation!

Scrupilo had moved to stand at the far end of the lab, behind quilted screens that were thick enough to allow him to remain in the conversation without getting in the way of Woodcarver’s thoughts.

Woodcarver nodded in his direction. “Are we in private?”

“Yes, my Queen. And anything that could hear us is temporarily disabled.”

The puppy hopped onto a lab bench and sniffed around at the connectors and charge holders. The rest of Woodcarver spread out around Ravna. “You were so much simpler to deal with than Nevil.”

Ravna nodded.

Woodcarver thought a second. “Sorry, I meant that as a compliment. Even an apology. I know I have become difficult to deal with. Surely, my—Pilgrim—has gossiped enough about my state of mind?”

How to respond to that? Ravna tried for something like honesty: “Pilgrim said that your new addition was … distracting.”

Woodcarver chuckled. “What delightful understatement.” Her six adult members were all looking at little Sht. The Puppy from Hell looked back with innocent, what’s-the-fuss body language. Surely that was just Ravna’s human interpretation. After a moment, Woodcarver continued: “A century ago, I would not have gone this road. I certainly wouldn’t have accepted Harmony Redjackets’ crackpot broodkennery. But that was before dear Pilgrim made me adventurous. Now I’m in a bigger mess than I have any clear memory of in my entire existence. Sht came close to undoing me, all before I realized the danger. I’m still searching for balance. Pilgrim has made suggestions, but in the meantime…”

Woodcarver was mostly looking at Ravna now. “Just so you know, even when we disagree, I will trust you and Johanna and Pilgrim more than anyone.”

Ravna nodded. Powers above! “Thank you.”

“Meantime, we have a dangerous situation to deal with.” She stopped, seemed to be thinking.

From across the room, Scrupilo said, “You mean Nevil and all the scheming he’s up to.”

Two of Woodcarver looked up. “Yes. I’ve watched Nevil carefully since he disposed of Ravna. He intends to take over the Domain, but he’s not as clever as he thinks he is. The question is…” Woodcarver’s voice faded into thoughtfulness.

Scrupilo helpfully put in, “The question is, is Nevil someone’s puppet, some pack much cleverer than he is.”

This time all of Woodcarver’s heads came up. “Scrupilo! Will you please stop interrupting! It’s bad enough having your obsessive mindsound rattling around the room.”

“Sorry! Sorry.”

Her heads turned back toward Ravna, the puppy’s last of all. “The murders and the kidnappings have played perfectly into Nevil’s claws. Was that accidental? If it is, we—you and I together, Ravna—should have no trouble with Nevil’s grand ambitions. But you know Flenser hints around that this is Vendacious’ work. If it is that—or worse, if this is Flenser in some double treason, then we may have been outplayed.” She thought quietly for a moment. “Nevil would have us believe that the Tropicals were behind the attack. I’ve watched that embassy mob for almost ten years. It’s very hard to believe that they could organize this attack.”

“Godsgift was smart enough,” said Ravna, “in an erratic way. Johanna thinks that maybe our trade over the last ten years has made some difference in the Tropics.”

Woodcarver made a little hooting sound. “What difference could it make to a Choir of a hundred million Tines?”

Ravna smiled. “That’s more or less Pilgrim’s reaction to the idea.”

“I know. I talked to both of them earlier this afternoon. Today is my day to grovel apologies and attempt reconciliation. But if Nevil is somebody’s puppet, Godsgift and his mob were key to the operation. For at least five years, we’ve been sniffing around the East Coast, trying to learn more about Tycoon or Vendacious or whoever. Have we been looking in the wrong place? If there is anybody behind Godsgift, that would explain a lot. I think we should actively test the possibility.”

Scrupilo said, “Send Jo and Pilgrim to the Tropics! Oops, sorry.”

Woodcarver waved a head in Scrupilo’s direction. “Just as he says. It’s something we should have done long ago. Even now, Jo and Pilgrim are overflying the mouth of the River Fell.”

Ravna knew how enormous the continental tropics were, even not counting the Great Sandy. “Negative results wouldn’t really prove anything,” she said.

Little Sht snapped at the empty air, but the pack’s tone of voice remained reasonable. “That’s true. But it’s a start. Given what’s happened, we should be paying as much attention to the Tropics as we do the Long Lakes and East Home.”

“Yes.”

“And I wanted some reconnaissance undertaken before Nevil and his friends know that we are about it. Johanna and Pilgrim felt the same way. Nevil thinks they’re headed to Smeltertop today—instead they’re going much much farther.”

One trip was about sixty kilometers and the other was several thousand—but to the agrav, they were about equally difficult. Nevertheless, “I—I wish all of us had had a chance to talk about this. Woodcarver.”

“Why? Both of them wanted to take a look. This first trip will just be a day or two, not like some of the East Coast missions. They’ll stay silent until they’re on the way back.”

“I think there’s a good chance Nevil will know of the mission in any case.”

“So?” said Woodcarver. “That would also argue for us acting quickly. I was completely outmaneuvered by the murders and the kidnappings. And since then, Nevil’s been pushing and shoving. I want to know who we’re up against before they surprise us all again.” She looked around. “And that’s another reason we had to talk. You really must stop acting like a fool. Nevil needs your technical advice, but once he realizes we’re working together, that might not protect you. If he is the tool of Vendacious, then expect the reaction to be violent. I want you to start using bodyguards. I’ve got four packs here who will take you home—that’s in addition to ones you apparently have not even noticed.” She smiled at the look on Ravna’s face. “And as of tonight, I’m increasing the coverage.” All her