“Chaos,” Hern filled in.
“That would be Kanin,” Khollo told them. “I think you might have annoyed him a little.”
More than a little, Kanin broke in sleepily.
“More than a little,” Khollo amended.
“Still, there was no call to spin us around and tangle us up like that! What if our harnesses had snapped under the strain and he’d flung us across the plains?” Hern said indignantly.
That would have been entertaining.
Khollo laughed at Kanin’s observation. “Maybe we should all just get some sleep,” he suggested. “Forget this whole thing. The next few days could be pretty long?”
“Why? What happened?” Sermas asked.
“We must have missed something,” Hern concurred, looking around. He frowned at Seven. “Who are you?”
Khollo sighed. “Janis can fill you in. I’m going to get some sleep.”
“Your room is still open,” Janis called as Khollo made for the door. “You can sleep there if you want.”
Khollo waved a hand in acknowledgement and left. Behind him, he heard a storm of questions bursting from Hern and Sermas. Khollo sighed and descended the stairs to the level his old quarters had been on. The door was unlocked, and he pushed it open gently.
The room was largely empty, as he had taken most of his possessions with him on the journey to rescue Kanin. The roughly made bed was exactly as he had left it, and ashes were still heaped in the fireplace. He checked the drawers and found that his clothes and other belongings were still there. Satisfied, Khollo locked the outer door and sat on the edge of the bed, looking up at the ceiling.
“Another day, another dangerous mission,” he muttered to himself. “Best rest up for this one.”
The young warrior kicked off his boots and lay back closing his eyes. In moments, he was asleep.
The next morning, Khollo woke late and found that for once in his life the weather had acceded to his wishes. The sky outside was choked with clouds, so much so that he could not see a flash of blue or a gleam of sunlight anywhere.
Khollo quickly got out of bed and smoothed his rumpled clothes. He raked a hand through his tangled hair and stuffed his feet back into his boots and hurried from the room, wondering if Kanin was awake yet.
Good morning, Kanin replied immediately. You are awake now, good. We can go and flame vertaga!
Breakfast first, Khollo replied drowsily. Then fly and flame.
Very well, Kanin agreed. I could do with a hunt soon too.
Maybe after we take care of those catapults, Khollo suggested.
That would be good, Kanin replied. Another fat buck, perhaps. It is a pity there are none of the wild steers in this area, like on Ethgalin.
Khollo laughed and exited his room, quickly making his way down the stairs. We’ll be back at Ethgalin soon enough, he promised. I miss it as much as you do. The jungle, the mountains, the plains, the springs –
But not the fruits, Kanin interjected.
But not the fruits, Khollo agreed, grinning. I’ll be down soon. You’re still at the north gate?
Yes.
Good. See you soon.
Khollo severed the connection as he was entering the kitchens. He was just in time, for no sooner had he refocused all of his attention on the world around him than he was forced to duck under a hot tray as a cooking assistant bustled past, balancing it overhead with the skill of long practice. Khollo wove his way through the kitchen, seeing what was on the menu, then settled on several strips of bacon wrapped in little flat cakes. Munching on his portable breakfast, Khollo left the kitchens just a few minutes later, headed for the underground levels and eventually the north gate.
Finally, licking grease from his fingers, Khollo emerged from the north gate. Kanin was waiting, standing beside the fields, gazing northward.
Ready for a little skirmish? Khollo asked eagerly as he approached.
Kanin spread his wings and roared a challenge, bending a foreleg for Khollo to mount. We will fly fast, and flame vertaga! he said happily, stretching his neck toward the sky.
Khollo grinned at his friend’s enthusiasm, securing the flying straps around his legs as he did.
Ready? Khollo asked when he had finally finished fiddling with the restraints.
Kanin crouched, then lunged skyward, great wings flapping. They rose up, up, up, straight into the sky. Khollo heard admiring shouts from the villagers in the fields below as they ascended. He grinned with pleasure at being aloft once more, then gasped as they slid into a cloud.
Khollo wasn’t sure what he had expected to find in a cloud. Maybe a surreal fluffiness, or a strange muffling of all sensations. What he found instead though was a thoroughly unpleasant feeling of thousands of near-icy droplets coalescing on every surface: his armor, clothes, skin, even on Kanin’s warm scales.
Beneath him, Kanin flew steadily onward flapping his wings slowly. He kept his eyes below the clouds, peering at the plains for any sign of a vertaga camp.
Nothing yet, Kanin reported after several minutes, shaking himself briefly.
Well, we’ll find them eventually, Khollo replied, shivering with the cold.
I hope so. This flying in the clouds is not as fun as I had hoped, Kanin admitted.
You don’t like it either?
I do not mind the cold, but the cold and wet is too much to deal with at once.
What happens if ice builds up on your wings? Khollo asked worriedly, glancing at the thin membranes moving up and down to either side.
Then they will not work properly and we will fall, Kanin replied promptly.
Khollo glanced nervously at Kanin’s wings, noting that they shimmered with moisture. Let’s keep an eye on that, shall we? he suggested.
You keep an eye on it. I am watching for vertaga
