Tinker's War (The Tinkerer's Daughter Book 2) (4 page)

I made my way back to the wall, carefully choosing the stoutest branches to walk across, so that they could support Robie’s weight. He followed me as quietly as he could manage, but I found myself wishing I’d left him back at the crash site. At last, we settled on top of the broad stone wall and huddled among the branches, staring out across the city. The heavy fog obscured our vision, but the sky was bright with the color of bonfires and burning buildings.

We caught glimpses here and there of the tall foreigners leading groups of Tal’mar citizens around in shackles, but they were distant and obscured by fog. We couldn’t tell much about them, other than their size. Thankfully, we didn’t see any of the executions that Becca had described in Avenston.

I put my finger to my lips, reminding Robie that silence was imperative. I led the way along the wall to a tight corner, where I knew he would easily be able to climb to the ground. As he started making his way down, I slipped down the face of the wall and waited patiently for him at the bottom. When his boots touched the ground, he stepped back and looked up, expecting to see me at the top. I tapped him on the shoulder and he jumped back, reaching for his sword. I couldn’t help smiling even though he was as noisy as a heard of stampeding cattle.

“Don’t do that!” he whispered angrily. I shushed him, and then slid into the shadows.

It wasn’t long before we got a good look at the invaders. Slipping through the dark alleys and back streets, we made our way through the outskirts of the city. On the main streets, we hid out of sight as patrols of invaders passed us by. Even Robie wondered at the invaders’ massive size. They weren’t as tall as the giant Kanters, but these were men, not giants. As far as I could tell they were human, but they were massive. They had arms and legs like tree trunks, bulging with muscles.

They had light skin, even lighter than the humans of Avenston, and many of them were decorated with tattoos. They were dressed mostly in furs and wore jewelry made from animal bones and beads. They wore swords and axes slung over their broad shoulders. Many of these weapons were taller than I was. Most of the invaders wore their beards and hair long, and some of them wore it braided. I noted that many of them had blonde or red hair. Features like that were rare among the humans of Astatia. Redheads were nearly unheard of. Among the invaders, these features appeared to be quite common.

Robie and I avoided these patrols entirely as I guided him through the back allies and dark streets of Silverspire, making my way towards the palace. I had an advantage over him, having spent much time in the city while visiting my family and learning about my mother’s culture. For Robie, the place was little more than a maze.

At one point, I heard an approaching patrol and we stepped through the broken-down doorway of a winemaker’s shop. We watched in silence from the shadows as a handful of the invaders marched down the street, their eyes scanning the shadows and alleys for Tal’mar who might have evaded them. As they passed, I felt Robie’s touch on my shoulder. He motioned for me to follow, and then led me across the room, to a large window.

From this vantage, we were able to see the ruins of the palace. Silverspire was so named because of the smooth, silvery polish on the palace towers that reflect light almost like a mirror. The silvery walls of the towers lay scattered about the ground now, reflecting firelight back into the sky. The walls of the palace were in a shambles, little more than ruins left standing amidst the rubble. I pulled back, unable to look any longer, my stomach churning.

“What now?” Robie whispered.

I shook my head, staring at the floor. “We have to do something.”

“Do what?” he said. “We’re outnumbered by hundreds, maybe even thousands. Those… creatures are everywhere. We’d be lucky to fight one of them, much less an entire army!”

“I understand that,” I said. “I know we can’t fight them. I can’t just leave, though.”

“Breeze, what are you saying? There’s nothing here to fight for. We can’t help these people. They’re Tal’mar, let them fight their own battles.”

I shot him an angry glare. “I’m Tal’mar, Robie. Do you forget so quickly?”

“Of course not, but what allegiance do you have to these people? Breeze, your family is gone. They’re dead.”

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. “They may be that,” I said, “but these are still my people. They may not look like you or live like you, but does that mean you will let them suffer and die?”

He looked away shamefully. “Of course not. But there’s nothing we can do, Breeze. Maybe if we could raise an army, we could come back-”

“Raise an army?” I said. “Where? Riverfork? Anora? What do you think is left of those cities? Who do you think will be able to fight?”

He turned away from me and walked to the counter. He stared at the rows of wine bottles on the wall. “All right,” he said. “If that’s what you want, then we’ll stay here long enough to find out what’s what. We’ll help, if we can. Otherwise, we make for the bridge and try to get to the mainland while we still have a chance. Will you agree to that?”

I nodded. “Of course. But you must agree to one thing first.”

“What’s that?”

“Wait for me here.”

He narrowed his eyebrows. “What are you talking about? I’m not letting you go out there alone.”

“Trust me,” I said. “I can move more quickly and quietly on my own. I’ll scout out the city and find out what’s happening to the captives. I’ll try to find the queen, if she’s still alive. Give me an hour.”

“No,” he said. “I won’t do it. I won’t let you go out there alone, not with those creatures out there.”

I stepped close, staring up into his face. He looked away angrily. I took his hand in mine, pleading with my eyes. “Robie, don’t take this the wrong way, but if you go with me, you’ll get us both killed. I know you’re strong. I trust you, I honestly do, but to the Tal’mar your heavy weapons and clothing sound like the rumble of thunder when you walk down the street. I can move through the city like a shadow. The invaders won’t even guess I’m here. For a little while, you must trust me.”

That was enough to convince him. He sighed heavily. “I will be here,” he said. “One hour. No more.”

“Agreed.”

Chapter 4

I was certain that Robie would be safe in the wine shop, at least for the time being. The invaders were everywhere but the pillaging wouldn’t begin in earnest until daylight. By then, I planned to be long gone.

I slipped back outside and made my way towards the palace grounds, stopping several times to let the patrols pass by. I melted into the shadows. Often, the tall foreigners passed by so close that I could have reached out and slid a dagger across their throats before they even noticed. They never even suspected that I was there. It was probably in my own best interest that I had no weapons, otherwise I might have been foolish enough to try.

I quickly made it to the palace courtyard and skirted through the rubble, making my way into the building. There was nothing to see here, or perhaps I should say there was nothing I wanted to see. The place had been decimated. It was little more than a giant smoking crater. The crumbling stone walls were black and scorched, the charred furniture smashed and covered in ash. Passages between various sections of the palace were blocked by massive heaps of rubble and collapsed walls.

I saw a few Tal’mar bodies here and there among the rubble, but they had been burned beyond recognition. Those who had been in the palace during the attack must have died  almost instantly. Those outside may have made an escape, but most of them probably ran straight into the waiting patrols. That explained how the invaders managed to capture so many citizens and clear the city so quickly. I shook my head, wondering again at the efficiency of our new enemies, and my heart sank into deep despair. I knew then that our losses had just begun. We were like children against this enemy. We were infants screaming in futility against the night, and they were hungry wolves ready to pounce.

I left the area, my heart heavy with grief.

Outside the palace walls, I took a few minutes to pull myself together. I grappled with mourning and loss, and with fear of this terrifying new enemy. I knew now that my Tal’mar family had died. My mother, my grandmother, even the many friends I had made during my visits to the city. If any of them survived, then they had already been taken as prisoners.

Desperately reaching for hope, I convinced myself that there was a chance I could rescue some of the captured Tal’mar. If they had been taken as prisoners, then possibly they could escape. And if these invaders carried weapons, then that meant they could bleed and die like the rest of us. I made that my goal, to save what prisoners I could and take them somewhere safe, possibly into the northern wastes or deep into the Blackrock Mountains.

With a renewed sense of focus, I pressed on. It didn’t take long to find the invaders leading a group of captured Tal’mar through the city. I followed them, slipping silently from shadow to shadow as they exited the gates and marched into the surrounding woods. They led the captives to a broad, grassy clearing southeast of the city, where they had clear-cut dozens of trees to widen a landing area for one of their massive ships. I watched from the safety of the surrounding woods as they guided their prisoners up a ramp and disappeared inside the enormous vessel.

I moved closer, edging along the trees, ducking under the fallen logs, straining for a closer look. The behemoth ship rose up before me, almost lifelike in shape and movement. The dragon’s head was frighteningly realistic, with shining black scales carved into its throat and red eyes that glistened with the moisture of condensation. I could see from my vantage that the creature’s mouth was open and that the ship’s designers had mounted some sort of cannon inside the opening. I wondered if that was the weapon they had used to destroy the palace. Then, on closer inspection, I realized that guns and cannon ports lined the sides of the ship as well. This may have been a cargo vessel, but it was armed to the teeth.

Up on the main deck, thick black smoke churned out of the furnaces, drifting up to vanish in the night sky. The flickering light of the fires cast dancing shadows on the surface of the great black balloon that held the ship aloft. The propellers near the aft section idled slowly, temporarily disengaged from their drive shafts.

Giant black sails billowed in the wind high overhead as the vessel drifted slowly back and forth, tugging gently against its chains like a living creature testing the bonds of captivity. I noted the movement and saw that massive balloon up above strained to pull the stakes from the ground and launch the ship heavenward, but the restraints held firmly in place. The ship, caught in the middle, could only creak and moan in distress. The wooden hull groaned with every gust of wind.

I scanned the area, taking note of the guards and soldiers on patrol. I couldn’t even count them as they stomped in and out of the ship, some of them going back into the city, others heading out to patrol the woods. They seemed beyond number. How many more ships did they have like this, I wondered. How many more soldiers? It seemed that an entire nation had invaded us in one night.

I was about to leave when a rustle in the branches nearby caused the hairs on the back of my neck to rise. I snapped my head around and stared, trying to find focus in the darkness. Gradually, my eyes adjusted and a cool purple light became visible in the branches just ahead. I could tell by the size that it was one of the Tal’mar. I scanned the trees around the clearing, but I didn’t see any others. He appeared to be alone.

The Tal’mar crept noiselessly forward and looked down at me as he reached the end of the branch. He seemed to be about my age, with dark green hair and riveting violet eyes. His skin was pale and flawless like all of his kind, and he was dressed in woodland clothes with a deep green hooded cloak. He wore an elven bow across his chest and a quiver full of arrows hung from his shoulder.

He tilted his head sideways, pressing a finger to his lips, and smiled at me. “You’re as clumsy as a human,” he said in a whisper.

I frowned. There was enough truth in that statement that it hurt. I may have inherited many of my mother’s racial abilities, but my human blood and the many years I had spent living among humans had assured that I would never be as stealthy as a full-blooded Tal’mar. What came to them by nature and by living amongst each other was an effort for me. It may not have been so if I’d chosen to live with them when I was younger. Unfortunately, the Tal’mar do not have a great affinity for machinery. The touch of steel and iron draws energy from them, causing some sort of sickness. This does not happen to me, apparently due to my human ancestry, but had I chosen to live among the Tal’mar and abandon the human world, I could never have retained my freedom or my position as a pilot. That was too much of a sacrifice for me to make. It was better to live as what I was than try to be something I was not.

The elf waved for me to follow as he vanished into the branches, so I leapt up and rushed after him. He went slowly at first, gauging whether or not I could keep up. When he saw that I could, he built up speed until we were literally running through the treetops. My emotional burden lifted a little as I flew through the branches. I felt them reaching out for me, placing themselves under my path, helping me along the way. I didn’t have to think about my course or worry about where I would place my feet. The trees took care of that for me. I had but to run, and release my spirit to the wind.

All too soon, it was over. We came to a giant tree on the northeastern side of the isle with branches like logs and a trunk the size of a house. Here, a number of Tal’mar had gathered. They were scattered about the limbs of the massive tree, standing or sitting on branches, talking quietly amongst themselves as we arrived. To my surprise, there were more than thirty of them. And my grandmother was there.

I abandoned all etiquette as I leapt forward and threw my arms around her. She smiled weakly, brushing my hair from my face. I looked into her eyes and saw tears. Then I pulled away. I turned, scanning the crowd for my mother’s face. She was not there.