Tinker's War (The Tinkerer's Daughter Book 2) (12 page)

“Yes they do,” I said. “I don’t know what it is yet, but they do have a weakness.” I rose from the table and met their gazes one by one. “I’m going into Anora tonight,” I said. “I have to find Tinker.”

Analyn shook her head, but didn’t argue.

“I’ll be ready,” Robie said, rising up next to me.

“No,” I said. “You’re a brave fighter Robie, but you don’t travel quickly enough and you’re far too noisy. I’ll be better going in by myself. The Vangars will never see me.”

“That’s crazy!” he said. “I can’t let you go alone, that would be suicide!”

“I’ll go with you,” Tam said. “I too can travel swiftly, like a shadow across plains.”

I sized him up. “I thought you would be going back to the Tal’mar now,” I said. “The queen will be eager to hear what you’ve learned.”

“Not yet. There is more to learn about the Vangars, and if they have a weakness as you believe, I would like to know of it. I will learn what you do, and I will take this information back to my queen.”

“Fine,” I said. I didn’t have the energy to argue with him and the truth was, I thought he might come in handy. He possessed Tal’mar skills that I had never learned. He was a good fighter and an excellent marksman, and his senses were far more trained than my own.

Robie gave me a desperate look as I turned away, but I ignored him. It wouldn’t have done any good to explain that I was just trying to keep him alive. All he could see was that I had accepted Tam’s offer and declined his. Anything I said beyond that was simply going to invite argument, and I wanted none of it. I wanted to find Tinker and get him out of Anora. And if Tam or I had to die in the process, so be it. At least Robie would still be alive.

Chapter 11

I hadn’t realized how badly I needed rest until my eyes snapped open just after sunset and I realized that I had fallen asleep. I was on a cot in Analyn’s tent. I bolted upright, instantly focused on locating Tam and taking off on our mission. I straightened my skirts and stepped through the door flap with that one goal in mind. Instantly, Robie assaulted me. He must have been lying in wait for the entire afternoon.

“Breeze, I wish you would rethink this. I know I’m not as quiet as a Tal’mar but I can fight like a bear. Tam may be good with a bow, I’ll give him that, but inside the city you’re going to need someone with a strong arm.”

I sighed. “Robie, my mind is made up. If you won’t listen to me as a friend then take my order as your commander. You’re not going with me.”

I turned away from him and almost ran into Analyn. She was holding a sheathed cutlass with a belt in one hand, and a good quality revolver in the other. “Here, take these,” she said. “We don’t have a lot to spare but I won’t send you into the vipers’ nest unarmed.”

I accepted the cutlass, and belted it on. “Keep the gun,” I said. “I couldn’t hit the broadside of a Vangar dragon ship if it was right in front of me.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” I have an awkward relationship with firearms. I’m completely awed by their power and by the art and craftsmanship that goes into making them, but I hate the noise.
I hate it.
I think it goes back to that day in Tinker’s barn when I was very young. It was just a few days after I’d met him. He had left a tray of explosive charges set out on the table, and I came across them during my explorations. I threw one at the wall, thinking it was a rock. That “rock” blasted a hole in the barn a yard across and threw me back against the table so hard it nearly knocked me out cold. Since then I’ve had a healthy respect for anything related to black powder. Not fear, but respect.

Tam appeared next to us. “The shadow of the mountains has already fallen across the plains,” he said. “Time leaps ahead of us.”

“Right,” I said. I turned my gaze on Analyn. “Robie is staying here. Make sure of it.”

Analyn crossed her arms and gave Robie a firm stare. His shoulders sank. I followed Tam to the edge of the clearing and we leapt up into the branches of an evergreen. I glanced back over my shoulder. Robie looked miserable, pathetic, staring after us like an abandoned child, and it made me want to weep for him. I understood how much it meant to him to be part of this. He wanted to fight the Vangars and save his people. He wanted to feel like he was doing something, not just hiding in the mountains. And he wanted to be by my side.

Perhaps that was the part of it that pained me most. For years, I had convinced myself that Robie’s feelings for me were no more than a crush. I realized now that it was more. This wasn’t a crush, it was devotion. It was love. And regardless of what I said, I was beginning to appreciate the depth of his feelings for me. It was good to know that someone would love me unconditionally. I just wasn’t sure I deserved it.

I pulled my gaze away and saw that Tam was already moving. I jumped forward and raced after him.

After we left the mountains and headed west across the plains, Tam and I encountered several patrols of Vangar horsemen. The first time it happened, Tam had to warn me that they were up ahead. Then as my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I found myself noticing them faster than he could point them out. Our senses were far superior to the horsemen. We could have slain each and every one of them, had that been our goal. As it was, we were pressed for time and there was no logical reason to go indiscriminately killing every Vangar who crossed our path. Such an act would have escalated tensions among the Vangar and quite possibly led to retaliation against their captives. The last thing I wanted to do was give them a reason to kill more innocent civilians. What we needed was to exercise caution. That was the reason I’d left Robie behind and that was the reason I stayed Tam’s hand every time he knocked an arrow to his bowstring.

It was easy enough to slip between the patrols and get within sight of the city, but what I saw when I got close caught me by surprise. Analyn’s description of the acrid black smoke had been accurate. It was an affront to my senses even from a distance. The smoke covered the city, laying across the land like a dense fog, burning my eyes and my lungs before we even got close. Then, as Tam and I crept noiselessly over the rolling hills east of town, we found that the Vangars had anchored several of their ships around the city, just outside the perimeter. They had landed two more on the ground, apparently to be retrofitted with axles and wheels by Vangar mechanics.

South of Anora, near the bridge at the front gates, the Vangars had built a tent city among the sparse poplars and low-growing sage. The light of dozens of fires illuminated the blackened sky, casting an eerie red glow about the place. Tam and I watched briefly, taking note of everything. It was impossible to get an accurate accounting of the Vangars but I guessed that nearly a thousand were in the encampment. We had no way of knowing how many more were in the city or how many thousands more might be spread out across the rest of the countryside.

As we watched, another great-wheeled dragon ship appeared in the hills to the north. Smaller flying vehicles buzzed in the air around it, humming like tiny insects in the distance. I had seen one before at a great distance. Now, I got to see them up close, and I was baffled. These vehicles -which I would later learn were called gyroplanes- were not held buoyant by balloons, nor were they powered by springs like our aircraft. Instead, the same black oil-burning engines powered these smaller aircraft. Not only did they leave a thick trail of smoke in the air everywhere they went, they were also noisy:  from a distance, they sounded like a swamp full of mosquitoes.

Propellers of some sort held the vehicles aloft, but the props were large, and they rotated overhead rather than at the front of the fuselage. I thought I understood the basic mechanical principle but I had many questions, and I determined that soon I was going to get a look at one up close.

As the machines closed in on the city, I realized that each tiny vehicle was just large enough for one Vangar pilot. I wondered if that was due to the limitations of their engines, or simply because the Vangars were so large that it wasn’t practical to make gyroplanes suitable for passengers. I watched them for some time, analyzing the unusual machines. From what I could tell, they were not only noisy and polluting, they were also cumbersome. The tiny aircraft did not move very quickly and didn’t respond well to sudden changes in direction.

Tam made a clicking sound with his tongue, motioning for me to follow him, and I reluctantly pulled my eyes away from the scene. I could have easily forgotten all else, watching those Vangars and their strange machines. Thankfully, Tam was there to remind me that we had an objective.

He led the way to the northeastern corner of the city, where we slipped past a few Vangar footmen patrolling the perimeter, and then crossed the river by way of an unpatrolled footbridge (there were many of these in the area once known as Riverwood, which had now been cut down, leaving little more than swampland north of the city). The Vangars seemed confident that their patrols could catch anyone trying to get out of the city. They probably didn’t expect anyone foolish enough to be
sneaking
in.
That made our entrance easy enough, especially since we could see them coming and going quite clearly without the benefit of torchlight.

I was surprised as we entered the outskirts of Anora and found citizens wandering the streets with complete freedom. I saw Vangar warriors standing guard on the street corners and on the roofs of many of the buildings, but they made little effort to suppress the free movement of the citizens inside. It was then that I finally understood what they had done.

“It’s a prison camp,” I whispered. “The entire city is a prison camp.”

We were standing in the shadows at the end of a dark alley, staring up and down the city streets. Tam nodded, his expression grim. “Indeed. Not just for humans, either. I can see at least twenty Tal’mar on this street alone.”

We stood back watching for a few moments, until a young Tal’mar woman passed close enough that we could get her attention without alerting the Vangars. She had blonde hair, a rarity among the Tal’mar, and she appeared to be about my age.

“That is Llana,” Tam whispered. “We schooled together as children.” He made a
psst
sound to get her attention, and beckoned her over. She stood there a moment, glancing cautiously up and down the street to see if she’d been noticed. Then she leapt into the alley.

“Tam!” she cried out, throwing her arms around him. “I was sure you’d been killed.”

“I escaped,” he said. “A few of us managed to get the queen to safety in the Borderlands.

“Praise the Elders! We were sure that she’d been killed. I must tell the others!”

“Wait!” Tam said. “Tell me, how did you get here? Did they bring you in one of the dragon ships?”

“Yes. They brought the first of us by air, but wheeled dragon ships have begun to arrive with more captives. They’re herding us all into this city like sheep.”

“Why?” Tam said. “What is their goal?”

“We don’t know yet. They’ve chosen a handful of people to be translators, but it takes more than a day to learn a language.”

I took a deep breath, considering that. “That’s good news,” I said. “If they planned on killing everyone they wouldn’t bother teaching us their language.”

“I believe you’re right,” Llana said. “I have been somewhat surprised by these barbarians myself.”

“What do you mean?”

“When they first invaded, they were like bloodthirsty animals. It seemed certain that they would kill each and every one of us, to the last drop of blood. But once we had submitted, they began to treat us differently. As if they knew we were no longer a threat to them. I believe it has been their experience that a battle won is proof of dominance.”

“So they don’t expect anyone to fight?” I said.

“I don’t think so. Unfortunately, they may be right. Look around you. Most of these people have already accepted their new station.”

“These are simple farmers,” Tam said. “We will not all lie down so easily.”

“Perhaps,” said Llana. “Still, do not expect many of these people to rush quickly to your aid.”

I looked up and down the streets, realizing how right she was. The once free people of Astatia seemed to have no fight left in them whatsoever. I couldn’t quite understand it. “Why don’t they fight?” I said. “There are so many people here. They could overwhelm the Vangars.”

“Perhaps, if they had weapons and a handful of courage, but they have neither. The Vangars were quick to disarm the populace. They stripped us down to simple garments. Many don’t even have shoes.”

My eyes widened as I glanced at their feet and realized it was true. The only people who seemed to be wearing shoes or boots were the elderly, who posed no threat of escaping or uprising. And suddenly it all came into focus.

“They’re smart,” I said. “These Vangar barbarians know exactly how to dominate and control.”

“Indeed. Did you think any less when you saw their airships, or the wildness in their eyes? They may be barbarians but they’re not stupid. And they’re very good at what they do.”

“They must have a weakness,” Tam said.

Llana cocked an eyebrow. “When you find it, let me know.”

“I have to find Tinker,” I said. “Llana, do you remember seeing the old man who used to fly to Tal’mar with me?”

“
Teamahka-na
!” she said with a bright smile. “The toy-maker!”

“Yes,” I said, grinning. For many years, Tinker had made a tradition of bringing his tiny spring-powered toys to the children of Tal’mar. This eventually became a custom during the winter solstice, a time when people had always gathered for feasts to celebrate the turning of the sky, and to uplift their low spirits. The solstice is a dark time of year, of bitterly cold weather and long, dark nights. It is a season when moods turn sour and many individuals suffer from the age-old malady of cabin fever. Over the years, Tinker’s gifts of toys and trinkets during the solstice somehow turned the darkest time of year into Astatia’s most eagerly awaited holiday.