“Impressive,” he said simply. He turned to look at his wife. “So this is what you’ve been doing with your spare time, eh?” he asked. He looked back at Sigrid. “How long was your patrol?”
Sigrid promptly clicked her heels together. “Twenty consecutive hours, my lord,” she answered. “Nineteen of which were flown at an altitude of three thousand meters over the slopes of the Tolenka Mountains.”
“Why do you fly so high?” he asked.
Sigrid was no fool. Traax was a member of the Conclave-he would already know the answer. Just the same, she was duty-bound to reply.
“Since learning of the nations west of the Tolenkas, theJin’Sai wants us to be on guard against a Rustannican invasion force that might somehow cross over the mountains,” Sigrid answered. “We patrol the coastline as well, searching for seaborne threats. Should we discover an incursion, flying high will grant us a broad view of the enemy force, allowing us to better gauge its size.”
Taking another step forward, Traax raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure that you’re not embellishing, subcommander?” he asked. “There is little breathable air at that height. So little, in fact, that I can think of fewmale warriors who can fly for so long at such altitudes. And we all know that our male warriors are stronger, wouldn’t you agree?”
Sigrid immediately bristled at that remark, but aside from a slight narrowing of her eyes she didn’t flinch. But she did break with protocol and look at Traax directly, putting him on notice. “It’s the truth, my lord,” she answered sternly. “If you would like to consult with any of my fliers to confirm our height and speed-”
Traax waved one hand. “That will not be necessary, subcommander,” he answered. Then he grinned widely, telling her that he had only been teasing. It seems that the Minion second in command is in a good mood this morning, a relieved Sigrid thought. Perhaps he hopes to catch some lazy warriors still sleeping in their cots after reveille has sounded…
“I believe you,” Traax added, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Duvessa has told me all about your exploits. Well done. You and your sisters do a great service to theJin’Sai. ”
Traax turned to smile at his wife. “They are indeed as proud as you say,” he offered. “And just as arrogant, I might add! Given the way that they can fly, perhaps they are all Night Witches!” He turned back to look at Sigrid. “You and your group get some rest,” he ordered. “You’ve earned it.”
Sigrid abruptly clicked her heels again. “Thank you, sir,” she answered.
Just then everyone heard the camp bugler sound reveille. Turning away, Traax and Duvessa eagerly hurried through the encroaching sunrise to begin their surprise inspection. They will be ruthless with anyone they find still asleep, Sigrid thought. Good. They need to be.
Traax hadn’t realized it, but every warrior in Sigrid’s group had heard the name he had called them. And like all good names, this one stuck. By now many more females had offered to join the Night Witches and new patrol groups were being formed. But no matter how many Minion women joined, Sigrid would always be proud that she had been among the first. During the early days, Duvessa led this group; then she had promoted Sigrid to the rank of subcommander.
Banking south this night, Sigrid changed course again. This new line would take her patrol directly across the southern fields of Farplain, skirt the western boundaries of Shadowood, and return them to Tammerland. It will be good to be home, Sigrid thought. I will grant each of my witches an extra ration of akulee for flying so well. Her customary smirk emerged again. I doubt that anyone will refuse, she thought. Not only can my witches fly and fight as well as most Minion males, they can outdrink some of them, too.
Picking up the pace, she continued leading her group on this line for another quarter hour. Still she saw nothing unusual. A quiet patrol, she thought. Just then she saw an orange-red light twinkle against the dark ground some leagues ahead.
Narrowing her eyes, she pressed on harder, wondering whether she was seeing things. Sometimes at great altitudes Minion warriors imagined things that weren’t there. Such false visions were usually depictions of things that they desperately wished to see, such as shimmering oases when the warriors were near death from thirst. When airborne, the warriors called such teasing phantoms “sky mirages,” and they were known to be caused by prolonged exposure to the thin air found at high altitude.
Duvessa had taught the Night Witches well about sky mirages, for she too had experienced them. This would not be Sigrid’s first encounter with the seductive apparitions. Because they were seen while airborne, sky mirages were more deadly than land mirages. They could cause the death of an unsuspecting warrior as surely as any weapon made of steel, and nearly as fast.
There was but one way to deal with these phantoms. Duvessa had taught them. You must dive as though your life depends on it. If not, you will suffer lightheadedness, followed by unconsciousness. The fall to earth will be a quick one, with little hope of recovery before the end comes.
Wasting no time, Sigrid snapped shut her wings and dived straight down. Every Minion knew that the quickest way to bleed off altitude was to perform a free fall. As she watched the dark earth come barreling toward her, each of her fellow Night Witches followed suit.
The cold wind was blinding at this speed, causing her eyes to water mercilessly. This made seeing the ground even more difficult, creating a special danger all its own. “Watch carefully!” she heard Duvessa’s voice call out to her again.“Pull up before you get too close! Only then will you know whether the image that you questioned was real or imaginary!”
As the wind whipped by her and the air warmed, Sigrid’s labored breathing eased. She strained to see the ground. Suddenly a treeline materialized out of the darkness, the tops of its branches approaching far too quickly.
She snapped open her wings and pulled up hard, as she had done so many times while training under Duvessa’s watchful gaze. Missing the tops of the trees by only a few meters, she leveled off, then finally looked behind her. Seeing all twenty-nine of her Night Witches perform the same heart-stopping maneuver was always an impressive sight. Reaching up with one hand, she wiped the melted frost from her face and eyes, then swerved to change course again and she gained a bit more altitude. Now we shall see, she thought.
Several minutes later the mystery was partly answered when Sigrid smelled dark smoke, pungent and sickly sweet. Having already seen far too many Minion funeral pyres during her young life, she quickly recognized the telltale odor.
Suddenly another stand of very tall trees loomed up ahead, their black branches nearly indistinguishable from the dark blue sky. Pulling up hard, she narrowly missed them as they brushed against her body armor. Just then she again saw the orange-red glow, telling her that this had been no sky mirage after all.
Tanglewood was on fire.
Swooping lower, Sigrid waved one arm, signaling that she wanted her second in command to fly up alongside. Valda came quickly. She was a strong and especially brave Night Witch, and Sigrid trusted her with her life. Her hair was a lighter color than most. Like that of the other Night Witches, it had been tightly braided and tucked beneath her body armor so that it wouldn’t harass her during flight.
“What are your orders?” Valda shouted.
Reaching to one hip, Sigrid unsheathed her dreggan. Even with the night wind whipping by, she could hear the blade briefly ring out as it cleared its scabbard. To a Minion warrior, that sound was always a comforting, exciting thing to hear. Immediately after, she heard another welcome sound as twenty-nine more dreggans simultaneously cleared their scabbards, their ring unmistakable. With the light of the three Eutracian moons highlighting her face, Sigrid turned to look at her number two warrior. The smile Valda saw was predatory.
“Take half the witches and start a search!” Sigrid shouted. “You curve to the east! I’ll curve to the west! Take no direct action unless you are attacked! May the Afterlife be with you!”
Raising her free hand, Sigrid waved her fist first in one direction and then another, signaling that the force should divide into predetermined halves. Each Night Witch knew with which half she belonged, and the well- practiced maneuver was over almost as quickly as it started.
Sigrid looked over to see that Valda and her fourteen witches were gone. Then she quickly turned to look behind her. Those witches still following her were close behind, their dreggan blades shining in the moonlight. Her face grim, Sigrid led them directly over the heart of the city.
Most of the buildings had collapsed from fire. Black smoke and the sickening odor of burning flesh rose into the air, limiting the witches’ ability to see and turning their stomachs. Soot soon darkened their faces, their body armor, and their weapons. Sigrid reached up to wipe it from her face, only to wonder a few seconds later whether
