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- Author: James Baldwin
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“That’s the entire Second Fleet, if my eyes don’t deceive me,” Masha called, raising her voice over the wind. She and Rin were seated on one side; Suri and Nethres on the other. “Quite a sight, eh?”
“What the hell is that thing?” Suri asked, pointing at the big crossbow-shaped ship. “And how the fuck does it even fly?”
“That’s a Sarkany-Class Dreadnought. The first and only ship of its kind.” Rin couldn’t tear her gaze from it, but there was a note of resignation in her voice as she spoke. “They’re designed to protect a fleet from magical assault, artillery, and even dragon fire. They lead into a battle, projecting an anti-magic pulse weapon from the front, and a huge kinetic shield around the sides. Smaller ships shelter in the shield. That’s why the bottom of it is flat, and the front has that weird curved shape… it’s kind of like a radar dish, but for magic.”
“Wow.” I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the armada as Karalti strove toward the castle. “And this is only one fleet?”
“Yes.” Masha replied. “His Majesty can field four fleets in times of international crisis. The fleets and the Black Army… those were some of Ignas’ father’s greatest accomplishments.”
Nethres whistled. “Lucien’s screwed.”
“I wouldn’t count on that. He doesn’t play fair.” I grimaced, shifting back into the landing position on the saddle. “We’ve underestimated him before.”
As we got closer, we could hear military brass music playing from the decks of some of the ships—entertainment for troops psyching themselves up for the traumafest to come. Karalti had to dodge, weave, and then fly over half a dozen skirmishers on the way to the castle. The only place available for us to land was in the castle proper—the courtyard of the Inner Ward, just outside the Volod’s Great Hall. My dragon touched down carefully, vibrating with nervous energy as we detached Cutthroat’s harness and let the irate hookwing drop to the ground. The castle grounds smelled like cordite and burned plastic.
“Ahh, smell that fragrant exhaust!” Masha remarked, covering her nose with a cloth. “A healthy dose of pollution for everyone, with the fleet hanging right over the damn castle!”
“Yeah, it stinks.” Suri slid down, then caught Cutthroat by her reins. “C’mon, you.”
“HSSSSSS!” The hookwing stopped preening her chest and snapped at her, jaws clopping barely inches from Suri’s nose.
“Oi!” Suri flinched back. She jerked Cutthroat’s head down with the reins and bopped her on the snout. “What was that for?”
“Ssss.” Cutthroat hissed, petulantly this time, and resumed trying to put her ruffled feathers back in place.
“What’s up her ass?” I asked once I was on the ground.
“Dunno. Whatever it is, she’ll get over it as soon as they take her to the stables and get some food into her. She’s been eatin’ like a starving wolverine.” Suri jerked her chin toward the door. “Head’s up: we’ve got company.”
Ignas’ Court Mage, Simeon, strode purposefully toward us at a fast clip, dodging the people rushing back and forth through the corridors that intersected the Royal Court. He jogged down the stairs from the great hall to the garden and pulled up in front of Karalti, slightly winded.
“Welcome back to Taltos, Voivode Dragozin, Voivodzina Ba’hadir.” He bowed from the neck to each of us. “And welcome also, Journeyman Lu, Masterhealer, and…?”
“Nethres of Gilheim,” Nethres awkwardly bowed back. “A Valkyrie. I was confirmed by Ragnhildr Olafson of the Gothi. Now a Captain serving the Ilian Kingsmen.”
“One of Prince Illandi’s royal partisans?” Simeon arched his thin eyebrows.
She nodded. “He gave me leave to come here. Contact Hector, maybe advise Vlachia on what we know of Hyland’s troop movements.”
While they talked, I discreetly stepped out in front of Karalti, covering her as she polymorphed down to her human shape and equipped her gear.
“That would be useful information indeed, and truth be told, we need any advantage we can find. His Majesty, nor I or anyone else here at court ever dreamed we’d go to war with a Starborn-led Ilia. Your kind were a myth only a generation ago, and now there are hundreds of you.” The slender man fixed his piercing eyes skyward, looking up. The Dreadnaught had left the Parade Ground and was passing overhead, darkening the entire courtyard with its T-shaped shadow. “Come. Time is short.”
“I will not be attending. There is no role for me in military matters such as these. My work comes after the dying starts.” Masha gave us all a small, grim smile. “If his Majesty has need of my services, you know where to find me, Simeon.”
“Of course, Masterhealer. I trust you will find the hospital is in good order.” He gave her a small, ironic bow. “Someone will be along to take care of your hookwing, Voivodzina. Leave her here, and follow me.”
“You sure about that?” Suri glanced at Cutthroat, who was alternating preening under her winglet, and hissing and biting at her own arm in irritation at… well… herself.
Simeon regarded the huge hookwing for a moment. “We can sedate her, if necessary. It wouldn’t be the first time. Come.”
Before Suri could frame any hookwing roofie-related questions, Simeon swept back up the stairs. I had more than a little great hall size envy as we crossed the black-and-white marble lobby, turned through a side door, and down the corridor toward the donjon. A mana-powered cage elevator was waiting for us.
“This castle has freaking elevators. I still can’t believe Vlachia doesn’t have parachutes,” I muttered, as the metal lattice doors clanged shut.
Nethres gave me an odd look. “They don’t?”
“They do now, because we invented them.” Rin said with a touch of pride. “I’m going to sell the patent to Ignas. That’ll net me a lot of
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