wood. Lightning danced in a ring around the ship, occasionally striking a high point on her shell. An enormous thunderhead towered in the sky above the conflagration, as though the smoke billowing up from the ship were somehow feeding the storm.
As the mare charged down into the valley, Rienne’s stomach sank-the airship was the Morning Zephyr, the same ship she’d taken from Stormhome to Vathirond. The smiling face of the first mate appeared in her mind, and she strained to remember his name. This disaster was her fault. The ship wouldn’t have been in Vathirond if she hadn’t borrowed her for this journey.
But who had commandeered her for this voyage?
Rienne settled back into the saddle and urged the mare to even greater speed. She assumed Gaven was responsible for this disaster, which meant he was probably down there. She didn’t know what she’d do if she found him, but she knew she had to be there.
As she drew closer, she could make out people around the wreck of the airship-and even people still on her deck, trying to get the fire under control. With each pounding hoofbeat, she called on the Sovereign Host to protect the innocent people who were caught up in this maelstrom. A new burst of fire erupted on the deck, sending a group of people scattering, jumping over the bulwarks, shouting.
While still a bowshot from the wreck, Rienne saw two people running toward her. One was a dwarf-possibly Ossa d’Kundarak, if the scarlet shirt were any indication. That would explain the Morning Zephyr being here: a dragonmark heir on such important business could probably call in favors to secure the use of a Lyrandar ship. And if the human beside Ossa were also an heir of a dragonmarked house-well, that would be twice as many favors.
“Lady Alastra!” Ossa stopped running and shouted at her, waving his arms wildly over his head. “Stop! You’re in great danger!”
Danger? From Gaven? But how did he know she was there?
She reined in the mare right in front of Ossa and her companion. She noticed the human eyeing her carefully, but she ignored him and spoke to Ossa. “What did you tell him?”
“Tell him?” It seemed Ossa had been unprepared for her leap ahead in the conversation.
“Gaven. If he knows I’m here and wants to hurt me, I can only assume you told him that I led you to him, which might be technically true but could give the wrong impression.” She saw Ossa and the human exchange a surprised look. “But he thinks I came here with you on the Zephyr, so he’s probably looking for me there.” She nudged her mare forward. “Thank you for the warning.”
“Wait!” Ossa called, but Rienne ignored her. She urged her mount to an easy gallop and didn’t look back.
She rode up beside the airship. Another gout of flame burst from the hull-reaching for her, it seemed. Her horse screamed, reared, and backed away from the ship. She guided her mount in an arc around the ship, keeping their distance from the flames.
“Gaven!” she shouted into the roar of the inferno. She could barely hear herself.
No one moved on the deck any longer. She saw a clump of people moving away from the ship’s bow, but she didn’t see anyone who looked like Gaven-or any sign of a fight going on among those people. She looked behind her and saw Ossa and the human man running toward her again. She didn’t have much time.
She guided her mare as close to the airship as she dared, then brought her to a stop. With a word and a calming hand, she steadied the horse then nimbly jumped up to stand on the saddle. The mare shifted slightly, and Rienne teetered, but she found her balance, tensed, and sprang into the air. She somersaulted through the air and landed on the airship’s bulwarks.
“Gaven!” she cried. Where was he?
As if in answer to her unspoken question, the deck before her exploded outward in a shower of sparks and splinters. A gust of wind carried tongues of flame and clouds of smoke up from the cabin below, and she threw her arms up to shield her face from the sudden heat. As soon as she dared, she lowered her arms and peered through the billowing smoke.
He stood on the deck before her, silhouetted by the raging flames. He took a hesitant step toward her, accompanied by a crash of thunder and a bright flash of lightning from above. She couldn’t see his face, and she wasn’t immediately sure whether he intended to use the sword in his hand.
“Gaven, please hear me out,” she said, holding her palms out to him.
He took another step then slumped to the deck.
CHAPTER 33
So where do we go now?” Jenns said. He licked his fingers, savoring the last taste of the meal Caura had cooked.
“Where do you want to go?” Caura avoided his expectant gaze, staring into their little campfire.
“I hadn’t really thought about it.”
“Churning Chaos, man! Did you have any thought in your head besides getting out of that camp?”
“Not really.”
“Well then, Jenns,” Caura said, leaning back on her hands. “We seem to be safe for the moment. Tell me about yourself. Why were you in such a hurry to get away from the camp?”
“Do I have to?”
“I think you’d better.”
Jenns sighed and leaned forward, gazing into the fire. “I’m Jenns Solven, from Passage. You ever been to Passage?”
Caura nodded, remembering the bustling city, and the person she’d been there.
“So you know it’s a pretty big city, sort of a hub for the lightning rail and caravan routes. And of course House Orien has their big enclave there.”
“Are you attached to House Orien?”
“I’m the youngest of three brothers. My father works for House Orien. Both of my brothers work for House Orien. I fled. I joined the army a week before the signing of the Treaty of Thronehold.”
Caura arched an eyebrow. “How old are you?”
“Twenty. You don’t look any older. How long have you been in the army?”
Caura suddenly remembered that the face she wore was a great deal younger than Darraun’s, and quickly covered her mistake. “No, I’m twenty-one. I joined up when I was just sixteen, though, so I thought maybe you were younger than you are.”
“Just sixteen? What drew you in?”
Caura tilted her head and glared at him. “We’re talking about you, remember?”
“I can’t help it,” Jenns said with a sheepish grin. He avoided her eyes. “I find you fascinating.”
Oh, here we go again, Caura thought. “I think you’re just dodging the question.”
He looked up and smiled. “Fair enough. I joined the army when I was eighteen. I was still in training when the war ended, and I never saw combat. Truth is, that suited me just fine. I wanted to get out of my parents’ house, and the army was all I could think of. Well,” he added with a mischievous grin, “it was the best way I could think of to make my father crazy.”
“Did it work?”
“Oh yeah. He wrote letters, he got various Cannith heirs to write letters, he pulled all the strings he could to bring me home. So one day my sergeant comes to my barracks, sends everyone else away, and asks me if I want to go home. I said, ‘No, sir,’ and that was that. Sergeant Kessel was a good man.” The smile slowly faded from Jenns’s face as he stared into the fire. “So I joined the army to get away from my father. I never wanted to fight. And then the treaty was signed, and I thought I got lucky-I never had to fight.”
His smile reappeared for a fleeting moment. “Except that for some people, the war wasn’t over. Lord General ir’Brassek ordered my unit into the Reaches, in violation of the treaty. I saw combat after all, which mostly meant that I pissed myself and hid when those damn huge Eldeen bears started tearing into our ranks. Sergeant Kessel was killed.”
