Tinker's War (The Tinkerer's Daughter Book 2) (5 page)

“I’m sorry,” the queen said, reading my thoughts. “I only survived by sheer happenstance. I was walking in the gardens when the invaders attacked. Had I been sleeping in my chambers they would have killed me, as they did your mother.”

Grief wrenched at my heart. For the short time I’d known my mother, we’d been bound by etiquette and politics. We had never had the time to grow close. Even holding my grandmother in my arms the way I was, was something I had never done in public before. I’d always been too worried about offending someone, about spoiling tradition. I had always worried about the fact that I wasn’t entirely Tal’mar; that I wasn’t really one of them and they might not wholly accept me.

“It’s not fair,” I said angrily.

“I know, child. Life is never fair. But it is what we make of it.”

I looked into her eyes and saw the tragedy written across her face. Thousands of Tal’mar had been taken captive already, and many were dead. Her people were scattered and broken. She was beyond hope.

“I don’t understand this,” I said. “Who are these invaders? What do they want from us?”

“They call themselves Vangars. Some of them speak our tongue. My spies have gathered that they came here for our resources. They want our weapons and our machines, but mostly they want steel.”

My eyes widened. “Blackrock steel,” I murmured. “How did they know about it?”

“This, I believe, is my fault,” she said sadly. “Last year, I sent two scout ships into the Frigid Sea hoping to find useable land beyond. The Tal’mar population is thriving, and we have need -not only of new land- but also of resources. Soon it will be impossible for this isle to support us all. We tried to barter with King Ryshan for the wilderness in the Borderlands he did not believe we had anything of value to trade.

“So I sent out ships with instructions to search the western seas and return in six months. The first ship never returned and we assumed it had been lost at sea, perhaps in a storm. The second ship returned, but the captain reported that they had found only an icy, desolate landscape, unsuitable for habitation.

“My guess is that these Vangars captured the first vessel. They likely tortured the crew for information about us.”

I thought about that for a moment and then realized that my grandmother hadn’t heard about King Ryshan yet. “The Vangars invaded Avenston this morning,” I said. “They murdered the entire royal family and overran the capitol. Last I saw, dozens of dragon ships were moving north towards Riverfork and Anora.”

“Then we are doomed,” she said flatly. “We cannot fight this enemy.”

I stared at her, and then at the faces around me. “What about the prisoners?” I said. “Can we rescue them before the airship takes off?”

“No,” one of the older men said. I recognized him as one of the queen’s advisors. His name was Lydian. “We must see to the safety of the queen first. We have to abandon the isle and make for the Borderlands. We must go into the mountains, from where our ancestors came.”

I looked around at the refugees’ faces, trying to gauge their strengths. Most of the Tal’mar were young and strong. Between us, we may have had a chance at rescuing the others on the dragon ship. Still, to do so would be to risk the life of the queen and I could see that that would not be acceptable.

“A few of us could take the queen across the straits,” I said hopefully, “while the rest stage a rescue…”

“Nonsense,” Lydian snorted. “We’d lose half our men in the fight and be lucky if the rest didn’t end up in chains.”

I looked around and saw heads nodding in agreement. None of them wanted to fight. I couldn’t blame them and I didn’t have the strength left to argue with them. Lydian took my silence as agreement.

Another young Tal’mar appeared in the branches. “The path to the beach is clear,” he said. “They have no guards on the bridge. We must move quickly!”

“It is time,” Lydian announced. “Everyone to the bridge!”

My grandmother touched my hand. “It is for the best,” she said. “This is not the time to fight. Tonight, we must survive.”

She moved into the branches, still agile and elegant for all her years, accompanied by Lydian and then followed by the rest. As they were leaving, the elf who had guided me there saw me waiting and beckoned to me. “Come,” he called back to me. “We must hurry.”

“I can’t,” I said. “I have a friend in the city.”

“Your friend is lost,” Lydian said in the distance. “Come with us now, or you will be lost as well.” With that, he turned away, not caring whether I followed or not.

“Won’t you come?” the elf said. “Your friend has almost certainly been taken captive. You should not put yourself in this danger.”

“No,” I said. “I must go back for him.”

He stared at me with a sad expression. “I would help you,” he said, “but my duty lies with the queen.”

“I understand. Go ahead. I’ll catch up with you later, if I can.”

He placed a hand on my shoulder. “I am Tam Windwalker, champion archer of the queen’s guard.”

I returned the customary gesture. “I am Bresha Salamenta de Tinkerman. I am called Breeze.”

“I know who you are,” he said with a smile. “May your ancestors guide you, Breeze Tinkerman.”

 In a flash, he was gone. I was alone among the branches.

Chapter 5

Finding my way back into the city was more of a challenge than I had expected. While following Tam through the trees, I had hardly noticed the path we had taken, or how far we had gone. I soon realized that we had covered a distance of many miles. In retracing our steps, I had to be much more cautious, especially as I got close to the city. I couldn’t risk a misstep or a loud noise that might alert the enemies to my presence.

It was an hour later when I finally reached the area where I’d left Robie. I had just entered the alley across the street from the small wine shop, when I saw two Vangar footmen entering the front door. My breath caught in my chest. I grimaced, wondering what foolish thing he had done to attract their attention. No doubt, he had made a noise of some sort at just the exact moment that they were walking by.

I watched, praying that Robie had had the good sense to get out of sight before they found him. Then I heard a loud crash and Robie’s voice cried out: “For the King!” The sound of breaking glass and clashing steel filled the night.

The sensible thing to do at that point would have been to withdraw and search for a way to rescue Robie later. After all, there was slim hope that we could best even one of those massive Vangar warriors, much less two of them at the same time. The logical part of my mind knew what I should do, but instead I took leave of my senses and raced across the street, plunging into the darkened store without a second thought.

I found Robie backed up against the far wall, sword drawn, desperately parrying blows from both of the Vangars’ massive swords. Robie was strong, muscular in build, but I knew he didn’t stand a chance against those two giants. Without thinking, I reached behind the counter and pulled a wine bottle from the wall. I hurled it at the closest Vangar, aiming for the back of his head.

My aim was true, but the Vangar lunged forward just as the bottle was about to hit him. It missed and instead struck the wall. Robie twisted, turning away from a blow as the wine splattered across his face. The Vangars turned, and broke out in laughter when they saw me. One of them muttered something in their strange language. He broke off from the fight with Robie and turned to attack me instead.

As the eight-foot barbarian stomped across the floor, kicking chairs and tables out of the way, I shrank against the wall. I found myself desperately wishing I had the old sword Tinker had given to me when I was a child, or even a black powder blunderbuss. At that moment, I’d have been happy even to have a dagger. I had fallen out of the habit of carrying weapons over the years. There isn’t much use for a cutlass on a mail plane.

I reached behind me and pulled out another bottle. This made the Vangar warrior laugh even harder. “Unga va shaeden,” he said in a taunting voice, making a gesture that clearly meant
take your best shot.
I hauled back and threw with all my might.

I felt the weight of the bottle in my hand as I let it go, calculating the spin, the distance between us, trying to judge what part of the bottle would most effectively damage the target. I sorted all of this out in an instant, and let the bottle fly. The Vangar was still laughing as the neck of the bottle struck him square in the forehead. If it had been a knife, it would have embedded in his skull.

The bottle shattered, shards of glass slicing down his skin as they fell, and a ring of blood appeared on his forehead. Rivulets of blood and red wine mingled, streaming down his face and trailing from his shaggy beard. The smile vanished. A look of pure insanity washed over the warrior’s features. He shouted something in his harsh native language and leapt forward, closing the distance between us in a single movement.

I shrank against the wall, the bottles pressing into my back as he reached out and caught me by the throat. I tried to scream but the sound caught in my chest. The slightest whimper of breath escaped my throat as he squeezed. I reached up, grabbing his hairy, muscular wrist in both hands. My fingers wrapped around his forearm, my fingertips barely meeting. I was like a child in his hands.

 I tried to push him away but he might as well have been a mountain. My chest convulsed, trying to suck in air. Spots swam before my eyes. I felt warm blood on my hands as my nails dug into his flesh. The Vangar only smiled as if this gave him pleasure. I reached out to him with my mind, searching for some way to damage this creature. Did he have bones and blood like the rest of us? It seemed so. Did he have muscles and organs and nerves? With a few more moments, I might have been able to defend myself, but my vision was already going black.

I heard a sick, crunching sound between our bodies and the Vangar’s hand relaxed ever so slightly. I sucked in a deep, gasping breath. The darkness faded to the edges of my vision and I saw a look of shock sweep over the barbarian’s face. He lowered his eyes and stumbled back, and I followed his gaze to see the crimson-coated blade of a cutlass protruding from his chest.

The sword vanished, and the Vangar tumbled to the floor. Robie appeared behind him, his face covered in wine and blood, his features etched with concern. “Are you well? Did he harm you?”

“I’ll be fine,” I gasped, sucking in another deep breath of air. My fingers were tingling and spots swam in my vision, but I could feel my senses returning. Robie threw his arms around me. I was too exhausted to tell him not to. I leaned over, peering around his wide shoulders to see the other Vangar draped across the top of a table, blood pooling beneath him. I raised my eyes to stare into Robie’s face.

“How did you do that?” I said.

He looked down at me with a half-sneering grin. “Just because you’ve spent the last ten years delivering mail, doesn’t mean I have,” he said. His voice was chiding and teasing at once, and somehow made me feel like a perfect fool. I stepped out of his arms.

“We have to go,” I said. “There’s no time to talk.”

“Go where?”

“I found others. They’ve gone to the bridge.”

Robie stepped up to the door, making sure the street was clear, and then beckoned me to follow him. I cocked an eyebrow. At some point, Robie had gotten the idea that he was in charge. Admittedly, killing two Vangar warriors was an admirable feat, but it didn’t mean by any stretch that he could lead me around like a pony. I sighed as he disappeared into the street. Grudgingly, I followed. There would be time to put him in his place later.

Silverspire was all but abandoned as we left. We passed only a handful of Vangars as we slipped through the streets toward the city gates, and easily evaded their attention. Once we were beyond the city walls we moved quickly, considering the fact that Robie couldn’t travel the treetops like a Tal’mar and we were bound to the forest floor. Despite Robie’s human shortcomings, we made good time to the bridge on the eastern coast. When we got there, we found the area dark and quiet.

We hovered at the edge of the woods, watching for a moment. Robie took a step away from the trees and I reached out to pull him back. “What’s the matter?” he whispered. “There’s no one here. Your friends are gone.”

I shook my head and pointed to the far side of the bridge. “A patrol,” I whispered. “The Vangars are hiding behind the bushes on the far side.”

His human eyes couldn’t see them, but my Tal’mar vision saw their body heat emanating through the darkness like the embers of an old bonfire. I turned slowly, scanning the canopy of trees above us. A hundred yards to the north, I saw the telltale color and movement of warm bodies in the trees. I gestured for Robie to follow, and headed in that direction. When we reached the area, I stopped and stared into the trees. Robie stared at me, confounded.

“What are you doing?” he demanded in a hoarse whisper. “There’s no other way across, you know.”

“He’s right about that,” a voice said behind us. Tam appeared in the lower branches of a tree and dropped noiselessly to the forest floor. Robie leapt back, his hand straying to the hilt of his sword. I steadied him with a hand on his wrist.

“Robie, this is Tam. The others are up there,” I said, pointing.

Tam nodded at Robie. “I’m afraid you’re right, human. There is no other way across the strait. We once maintained boats here on the beach, but we’ve had no need for them in years.”

“How many Vangars are on the other side?” Robie said. “We may be able to overpower them.”

“Unlikely,” Tam said. “They have twenty men, all heavily armed fighters. Most of our numbers are elderly.”

“Then you can’t swim across either,” Robie said.

“No. We have already discussed all of this. We’re trapped, until the invaders decide to leave.”

I digested all of this, trying to think of something we’d missed. The problem with crossing the Crimson Straits is that the waters are ice cold and the undercurrents are dangerous and unpredictable. The reason for building the bridge in the first place was so that humans and Tal’mar could travel back and forth freely. I felt a moment of pride as I remembered how my friend General Corsan had helped to design and build that structure. Even now, years later, the Tal’mar Bridge was the largest on the continent.