that what Magellan really wanted was a shooting war with the Persians, but that he’d settle for conquering Marrakesh and Numidia. I think he just wants a really big statue of himself in Admiral’s Square in the capital.”
“Conquer Marrakesh?” Taziri blinked, thinking of the massive ship in the harbor at Valencia, already at sea, already able to fire its immense cannons. “That’s why he shot us down. Because we saw that ship of his. He couldn’t let us report it because he actually plans to use it.” Again her thoughts flew home to Tingis, the northernmost city in Marrakesh, its harbor full of cargo steamers and naval destroyers. It was the logical place to begin an invasion of the country. And her family lived less than a mile from the water’s edge.
“It’s possible,” Lorenzo said. “I’m sorry. Not all of my people go to church as often as they should.”
Taziri frowned. “You don’t need to talk to God to know that war is a bad thing.”
“No, I guess not,” he said. “But sometimes it helps.”
The tiny room drowned in the uncomfortable silence that followed. Taziri blinked back the tears that threatened to spill out. I’ve gone from “lost and presumed dead” to “hunted and soon-to-be dead” along with everyone else in Tingis. My poor Yuba and Menna. And Isoke, and her husband, and their two little boys. And all of the pilots, those young pilots I recruited and brought to Tingis. An entire city, thousands of innocent people. The vile taste of vomit washed lightly up against the back of her tongue.
“We have to get across,” she whispered. “We have to warn them.”
“You’ll be caught,” the small lady said.
Of all things, Taziri suddenly remembered the Halcyon ’s batteries and electrical leads in the bottom of her pack. When they catch me, they’ll have that, too. They’ll have the plane.
“Look,” the hidalgo said, then broke off to frown at his pitiful little shelf of books. A pained and confused look wrinkled his forehead. He looked sick. “Maybe you don’t have to go. Maybe we can hide you, at least for a little while. The navy doesn’t know who you are or what you look like, only that you’re Mazigh aviators. Right?”
“What are you suggesting?” his wife asked with an arched brow.
“They can come with us to Zaragoza,” he said to her. “It’s in the middle of nowhere, and the cathedral is enormous. The abbot is a friend of mine. We’ll all be safe there until this blows over.”
“I’m sorry, sir,” Taziri said. “But I can’t just hide away somewhere. I have a duty to my passengers. And I need to report Magellan’s warship to my government as soon as possible. Lives are at stake, sir. My daughter’s among them.” Why does the world have to be so damn big? Even the best engine in the world will only take you so far before it dies, and leaves you to swim, or crawl, or die yourself. If I ever get home, I’m never leaving again.
A heavy boot thumped in the hall just behind her. “Hey, Ziri, can you see if this guy has any…oh. Right. Sorry.” Syfax leaned into the study, frowning at the little room. “Kinda dark in here. What are we talking about?”
Taziri brought the major up to speed in Mazigh, which was only slightly faster than her well-practiced Espani. Syfax nodded thoughtfully and she could see the tactical wheels grinding away behind his lidded eyes. He said, “Well, I’ll tell ya what I’d do, if this was a security situation, captain. I’d have you and the passengers trot on out of here with the Don while I go south by myself to Tingis. If I go alone, I’ll be there in no time. March all day and night. I can steal a boat and cross the Strait in the dark. They’ll never even know I was there.”
Taziri nodded. He’s right, of course. Major Zidane wasn’t good for much, but running across a country and fighting his way past enemy soldiers definitely fell within the fields of his expertise. But his plan also meant hiding herself away in some church in Espana for days, maybe for weeks. Although, if Syfax makes it through at least he can tell Yuba that I’m alive. And that might be my best option, as terrible as it is. “You’re right, major. You should go. But take Kenan with you.”
The big man grimaced. “Nah, I don’t need him.”
“Take him anyway. He’s good with languages and maps. And he has sharp eyes, so he can watch your back. If anyone asks, you can say he’s your son,” she said.
The major rolled his eyes. “Fine. But he’s not my son. He can be my nephew. My stupid grinning excuse for a nephew.”
“I can live with that,” Taziri said. And then, for a moment, she felt a small weight lifted from her shoulders. They had a plan. It was a bad plan, a flimsy plan, one based on hope and chance, and one that she would have no ability to help carry out. But it was a plan, and that was more than they had a few minutes ago.
Back in the dining room, she found the Italians and the young Eranian lady huddled in the corner while Kenan was quickly becoming fast friends with the young Espani fencers by exchanging bits of old songs and bawdy jokes filled with juvenile double entrendres. Taziri got the room’s attention with a sharp whistle and in her best Espani she told them the plan. The young fencers brightened a bit at the idea of going home for the winter, but the Italians, Shahera, and even Kenan looked slightly horrified when she said they were going north instead of south.
Taziri held up her hand to fend off their objections even as they opened their mouths. She said, “I think we’ve all realized over the last few days that this is not just some inconvenience or unfortunate detour. We’re in very real danger, all of us. And right now, instead of trying to get on with our lives we need to be focused on staying alive. Not just for a few days, but for as long as it takes for us all to get safely out of the country.”
“Are you completely incompetent?” Dante slammed his fist on the table. “All we have to do is walk to the nearest fishing village, throw some coins at the first slack-jawed idiot we see, and row away back to Mallorca, or even all the way to Marrakesh if needs be. They don’t know who we are. They don’t know what we look like. They’re probably not even looking for us at all. And you want to run and hide in some church cellar? Absolutely not. I’m leaving, with or without you fools. I’ll probably be better off on my own anyway.”
The young Italian stood up and snatched a crumbly black loaf from the table to stuff in his pocket. He turned to find Major Zidane in the doorway behind him, and Syfax reached out to gently shove the smaller man back into his seat at the table. “You’re not going anywhere, except with the captain. This Magellan character knows we were in a plane, so we’ve got to be Mazigh, and he knows we were coming from Italia, so he knows you’re Italian. So unless you think you can cover up that stupid accent of yours, I guarantee you’ll be in a cell by the end of the week. If this bastard is as paranoid and controlling as everyone says, he’ll be rounding up every poor fool from Valencia to Madrid just for looking or sounding funny.”
Dante slumped back in his seat, scowling. He took out his bread and began picking at it.
Taziri used the commotion to slip back out into the hall, but she had barely taken two steps before she felt a hand on her shoulder.
“Captain?” It was Kenan, but the earnest young lieutenant wasn’t grinning for once. “If it’s all the same to you, ma’am, I’d rather go north with you instead of south with the major.”
“It’s not the same to me, Kenan. The major is going to need your help if he runs into trouble. And knowing him, he will run into trouble. I’m counting on you to be the sensible one. Keep your eyes open. Give him options and ideas before he pulls out that knife of his.” Taziri raised an eyebrow. “I thought you’d be okay with this. It’ll be like old times.”
“That’s just it, captain,” he whispered. “I transferred to Section Four to get away from him. I didn’t like the old times, even if it was only a year or so. He treats me like a little kid. And the things he does to people, I mean, I know they were criminals, but still.” The lieutenant looked queasy. “He’s dangerous.”
“Well, I’m sorry you feel that way, lieutenant, but you’ve got your orders,” Taziri said. “If things go well, it will only be for a few days and you’ll be safe and sound back home before you know it.”
“And if it doesn’t go well, I’ll probably end up in front of an Espani firing squad.” He turned and sulked back into the dining room before she could say anything else. Her instinct was to call him back and give him a severe dressing down for his attitude and threaten him with some sort of disciplinary action, but she couldn’t think of any way to punish him beyond forcing him to accompany Syfax. And the truth is, he’s right. He very well might end up in front of a firing squad. On any other day, that thought might have troubled her more, but she had too much to worry about already.
Three passengers to shepherd. An experimental engine battery to protect. A family less than four hundred miles away that I can’t reach. And unknown days or weeks holed up in the basement of some freezing Espani church listening to Dante complain.
It took almost two hours for the hidalgo’s household to pack up and lock up, but eventually everyone was properly dressed for a long walk down a cold road, every back was aching under a pack laden with food and blankets, and every animal in the stable had been trotted out into the yard. Taziri wasn’t particularly shocked by the huge striding bird that the hidalgo’s wife had saddled and mounted. Its clicking talons and massive beak were
