Salute the Dark

‘Surely I can see that it isn’t the case? Yes, the Maynesh and the Mynans and the rest, they will rise up again, and, when they do, do you know what they will have? They will have weapons of their own to counter this one, to bring a new war against the Empire, and we will have to find weapons more terrible still to defeat them. Don’t you see, Totho? That’s the point. This is war, and it is also progress, the living, breathing engine of war. Your snapbows, the incendiaries that took Tark, they’re just stopgaps. This is the next step, and that, beyond any other reason, is why I must take it. One cannot deny history its prize, Totho.’

Totho opened his mouth, once or twice, but no words came out. Drephos’ smile, kindly enough in its way, broadened.

‘If you will be my conscience, well and good,’ he allowed, ‘but from where do you derive yours?’

Totho stared down at his hands as they gripped the rail, realizing as he did so that he was now copying one of Stenwold’s mannerisms, when the old man felt harried on all sides and beset with unsolvable problems. ‘From her,’ he replied, and it was true. ‘From Cheerwell Maker. I always ask myself if she would approve, and if she would not, then it’s wrong. But then I’ve already done so many things that she would not approve of, so where am I now?’

‘Quite,’ said Drephos. ‘Be thankful that reason and calm thought can prevail over such vague notions.’ Abruptly his head turned, and he was looking past Totho at something below them. ‘And here,’ he said, ‘is my other expected guest.’

Totho turned to see Kaszaat herself being led towards the engine, firmly pinioned between two Wasp soldiers.

Twenty-Four

They had chosen the island of Findlaine as their staging point. The Wasps, still focused on holding on to a turbulent Solarno, had not further expanded their influence out over the waters of the Exalsee. But Findlaine was close enough to undertake the flight and still have fuel and fire to do battle over the city itself; far enough that the flying machines and beasts could muster there without sharp eyes from Solarno’s garrison spotting them.

There was an old tower on Findlaine, its provenance lost after successive changes of ownership. The style was Spider-kinden of centuries before, a delicate once-white spire that the years had brought down so that only a stump still remained, rising mutely out of the screen of surrounding trees. Taki had taken it as her vantage point. Looking north, she could see the pale blur on the shoreline that was Solarno, while looking south, down into Findlaine’s broad and shallow bay, she…

They were now gathered there, every flying machine that the free pilots of Solarno could muster, as well as a contingent of pirates and freebooters from Chasme, with some concerned mercenaries and a flight of dragonfly-riders from Princep Exilla. She had never seen so many pilots in one place, and it was all she could do to hold them together. They were at each others’ throats all the time: no natural allies but bitter enemies and rivals reluctantly pressed into service side by side. When the time came, they would fight as they always had, as individuals. She only hoped that they would concentrate on fighting the Wasps.

In her hand was a crumpled note recently brought to her by a messenger who was even now skimming back in his little sail-boat towards the city. It reported that Nero had organized what resistance he could. The Wasp governor’s ceremonial confirmation was nigh. The entire Wasp garrison would be out on the streets, waiting for trouble. They would certainly not be disappointed.

One single strike, to shatter their power. Very little word had come from the west, but Taki knew that the Spider-kinden were engaged in fighting up on the Silk Road, at places she had barely heard of, seen only briefly in passing.

She spared a thought for Che: I hope your plight is not as bad as ours. She also hoped that, in making this push against the Empire, she would be aiding the Beetle girl, just as she hoped that whatever trouble Che was in would take some of the pressure away from Solarno. Even the Empire only has so many soldiers, so many armies.

That was the theory, at least.

She consulted the little pocket clock that had been a gift from her brother, years before. She angled it at the sun until the little shadow told its tale. It was telling her that she would have to get started.