Lapis gritted her teeth as the uninjured khentauree outpaced them. As much as she wanted to run and leave the struggling being to their fate, she kept pace with Brander, staring behind, mindful of any weird wavy thing she might see.
Her hair rose on her arms, and she punched at the instinctual flight response. She had responsibilities, which did not include running away. Her bowing to chivalry annoyed her when they reached the hallway barrier the Drakeways built and realized all the khentauree but Tuft had raced over it. At least he had waited for them.
He grasped Dov’s other arm, settled it over his shoulders, and helped them clamber up the path. Brander pushed her in front of him and she sprinted up. She made it over the top just as the thief grabbed her and they slid bumpily down; a cyan beam struck the wall, leaving a black smudge, dust-infused air, and a hole behind.
They scrambled to their feet as ice extended the barrier to the ceiling. Beams punched holes as wide as Lapis’s head, and cracks raced across the misty surface. Dov picked up the pace, and she mentally urged them faster; she did not think the ice would hold.
Brander kicked boxes and threw tech into the hall; she helped scatter stuff until they reached the door. Tuft closed the portal behind them, froze the bar and the edges, then formed an ice barrier that hit the opposite wall.
“There is jumbled talk among the enemy, and I hear bits and pieces,” he said as they followed Dov and his friend up the stairs. “I understand little of it. I think the Drakeways awakened them, and they saw enemy in them. Chiddle thinks they will see enemy in all of us, and this worries him.” He paused. “Chiddle says more Swifts have arrived, so we must doubly hurry, and with stealth.”
Lapis did not think Dov could manage that in their present condition.
“Then we’re going to need to find a stretcher for Dov,” Brander said, echoing her thoughts. “I don’t think they’re able to move faster than a walk.”
Tuft buzzed but did not reply as pounding from below echoed to them.
The khentauree who spoke third waited for them, standing with a metal bedframe with slats across the middle. Dov collapsed onto it, shuddering. Their friend grabbed one end, the third one took the other and swiveled their head to stare ahead, a faint cyan beam lighting their way.
They moved faster, but not with the speed Lapis wished. She and Brander again took rear, though she doubted they would notice any wavy walls in the darkness. Her skin prickled, so she could not rely on any instinctual response to danger.
The faint beam cut off.
Small lights whirled in a circle ahead of them—Patch! They focused on his patch as human shouts reached them. More scrubs were in the building, but she did not see shadows moving across the illumination towards the front. Stars’ luck, it would stay that way.
The khentauree shuffled in, the bed banging against a shelving unit. Lapis winced and grabbed it before it fell; Tuft helped her as Patch closed the door behind Brander. The khentauree iced it shut.
“I sent Linz and Chiddle on ahead,” Patch whispered. “Fraze is in bad shape. They didn’t bother getting him medical help for that shoulder he dislocated, and I think they beat him on top of that. He’s unconscious and burning with fever. Whatever he knows about Caardinva’s operation, we might lose it because I give even-odds he lasts long enough for us to reach the border.”
“My device is reading another four Swifts coming in to land.” Sils’s whisper floated from the exit. “And dozens of machines below.”
“We have more of the military khentauree chasing us,” Brander said. “They were pounding on the ice Tuft left at the exit to the stairs.”
Sils hissed. “Then we need to go, before they break through.”
“Yes,” Tuft said. “But they are older models, ill-equipped to fight or use concealment for long periods. They are time-worn, lacking strength due to erosion. We will outrun them.”
Lapis could not swallow his confidence.
Sils opened the exit with caution. He motioned and Dov’s carriers hustled past and to the left. Frowning, Lapis held the door as the modder followed them; that was not the way they came in.
A swath of trampled snow headed towards the back wall and around the edge of the neighboring metal building to the south, avoiding the light flooding the area from one of the two Swifts sitting in the muddy yard at the front. Brief flicks of shadows raced in front of it; if they proceeded closer, someone would spot them.
Ah. With a quick glance at the busy techs calling to one another, she scurried after them and rounded the corner, heart beating in her throat.
Patch, Brander and Tuft caught her.
“Go go go!” Patch hissed.
Sils outran them down the row, which, Lapis decided, had everything to do with raging fear. Patch smacked Brander, who attempted to catch the tech, passing Dov and his carriers.
Dammit, they were too slow.
“Stay with them,” Tuft said, looking at Patch. “Lanth and I will guard the rear.”
They would?
She recognized Patch’s fierce fury, and he opened his mouth to snap his resentment of the order. She grabbed him and shook her head. “Out of them all, they can’t get ahold of Dov,” she reminded him. “And you’re a better protector than I am.”
“Shit.” Venom made the word nearly indecipherable. He kissed her, then sprinted after the slower group.
Lapis turned with Tuft and stopped.
Two khentauree, charcoal and cyan, stood behind them, glowing foreheads spinning rapidly.
“MEKOT!” Tuft shouted. His eyes blazed a brilliant cyan. “Noungiklur dees!”
The command weighed on Lapis, and by the wavering of the khentauree, they experienced the hammer of his voice. The glows in their forehead faded, and their hands dropped to their sides before they reanimated. The icy khentauree buzzed, annoyed; boots crunching on frozen snow proceeded five grey-uniformed men stumbling between them and the enemy.
They hesitated before raising their weapons at her and Tuft.
“It’s them you want!” Lapis yelled, jabbing her finger at the khentauree. Two, confused, looked over their shoulder; their screams died on their lips as their bodies absorbed the impact of ancient beam power.
Good thing they wore marching shirts.
“Come,” Tuft said, holding his hand to Lapis. “I am not inhibited by an age-worn body and will outrun them.”
Intimidation beat in time with her heart as she stared into his glowing eyes, but she grabbed the offered appendage. He swung her onto his chassis; she slid her arms around his waist and plastered herself to his torso as he took off. She slipped to the side, but kept her seat on his slick back by grinding her knees into his sides. Good thing he was not a living horse; poor animal would have flinched at the pressure she used.
Cyan beams shot past them, wildly inaccurate. Should she thank the non-existent gods that the charcoal khentauree, due to the long years, had imprecise sights? How had they taken down so many Drakeways with such terrible aim?
Or had the scrubs made the poor decision to miss at them instead?
She did not care.
In the middle of the muddy yard, the dark Swift blazed to life and its spotlight illuminated the pathways between buildings. The mechanical sound of moving metal doors coincided with weapons rising from the top. Tuft swept behind the next building as a heftier beam struck the earth they just crossed, steam and soil exploding upwards.
Her attention snapped back to the front as the khentauree elegantly planted his front legs and pivoted, to jump at an angle and avoid the scrub who rushed out of the next pathway between buildings. He screamed and shook his tech weapon at them, but did not fire as another man burst from behind the next structure down the row and bounded to them, faster than a normal human managed. Modded? Likely. He held out his hands, as if expecting to push them over; she triggered her blade and sliced as Tuft dodged left. He arched back and straightened, quicker than she expected. Definitely modded.
Three more scrubs hustled around the same corner. Tuft froze platforms to the wall, startling them into falling, and jumped back and forth, goat-style, to reach the top. How she stayed on his back, she did not know; her knees ached from the pressure, and did not keep her in place like she wanted.
Beams struck the ice but did not shatter them, and some careened past to fizzle in the air above. Once the khentauree touched the grooved, curved roof, the platforms disappeared, and he headed for the last structure in the row, buzzing. A spotlight illuminated the roof behind them, drawing her attention; the modded man pulled himself over the edge and scrambled to his feet, raising a hand against the blinding light. Tuft leapt over the other side and to the ground before the Swift could target them.
He landed in front of three men huffing towards the back wall. Gathering himself, he jumped over them; they shouted, squatted, arms protecting their heads. He nailed two in the upper back with his hind hooves and they collapsed. She did not think his strike was accidental.
He streaked into the yard; a charcoal khentauree group numbering ten had reached it, and the Swift spotlight and weapons pivoted to mark them. They had glowing blue stripes on their arms and legs; frontline fighters, Tuft had said. A lucky distraction. The ancient machines could inundate the Swift with attacks that ricocheted off the sides all they wanted until she and her companion escaped.
“More Swifts come.”
Lapis looked up; the ‘shroud blocked out the sky to the west, the jets beneath it blazing with fierce cyan fire. They thrust to the southwest, and the humongous ship slowly turned, as if preparing to dock. Had the lead commander ordered them to drop anchor without the hook activated? What did he expect the techs to attach it to?
Boots ringing off metal caught her attention. The modded man ran along the edge of the roof above them, and Lapis triggered her right blade; it did not shoot from the gauntlet. Dammit, that goopy stuff stuck her weapon inside the leather, just like at Ambercaast. She clutched Tuft’s torso with her right hand and activated her left blade as the enemy sprung at them. Twisting, she swiped backwards as he landed on the chassis’s rump. He howled and slipped; the blade skitted across the cloth of his arm, sliced his shoulder, and then his chest. Tuft’s arms shot backwards, clamped around her waist, and he bucked. His rear slammed into the man’s back, propelling the enemy over them with a stunned yelp. He landed with a thud on hard soil.
He moved a leg but did not rise. Good.
“Hold on,” Tuft commanded. She sheathed her blade and held tight as he jumped high and to the left, avoiding a flaming ball of greenish-blue that struck the frozen surface and shattered the earth. Tiny shards pelted her, and she winced. Where had that attack come from?
The ‘shroud.
Another burning ball raced to them, and the khentauree galloped for cover behind a metal building across the yard. Fear pounded her, and she could not move, think. Panic set in; her body would disintegrate, under an attack from a ‘shroud. They had no cover, no—
“Lanth.” The whip-sharp snapping of her name broke the spell.
She jerked as he whisked into a tight pathway between two whitewashed buildings. A flare of orange light illuminated the unmarked snow and sides. She glanced back and only saw a blaze of fire. What had the ‘shroud accidentally struck?
“Tuft, how far are we from the culvert?” Her voice sounded weak, and she berated herself for the tell.
“Far. We lead them away.”
That did not help her state of mind.
