“Margravine!” Hobi exclaimed, and would have run to her if the rasa had not stopped him.
“Help, dammit, is this the frontier? Have we reached a substation?” The margravine tore the last bit of her Æstival garb from her and flung it to the ground, then turned and kicked furiously at one of the Gryphon’s legs. “Where are we, dammit?”
From the rasas waiting on the hillside came a low sound, a sound that became a hiss. Âziz turned, startled. “Oh! Oh— ”
Looking back, she saw Hobi and the nemosyne and the Aviator Imperator. She bit her lip, rubbed her chin, and then tossed her head back defiantly.
“Margalis! I might have thought you’d find a way out! Well, come on, then, you know the way—where’s the nearest substation, we’ve got to get out of here—”
Behind her the hissing grew louder. Hobi shrank closer to Nefertity, as slowly the rasas began to creep the last few feet up the hill to where the margravine stood, glaring at Tast’annin.
“—this bloody thing doesn’t listen at all, I thought they were supposed to respond to direct emotive input, let’s go now while the storm’s let up—”
Tast’annin shook his head. “I don’t think so, Âziz,” he murmured. Her eyes blazed and she took a step toward him, was stopped by a hand on her shoulder. “I think some of your— people —have need of you….”
Behind her the rasas had gathered, crooning and sighing and mumbling among themselves as they surrounded the margravine. Âziz saw them and gave a small cry, tried to push her way through them but was borne off, as first one and then another grabbed her, handing her over their heads until finally she disappeared in a weaving thicket of white arms and hands and mouths.
Hobi looked away, covering his eyes. Âziz’s shrieks grew louder, were nearly drowned by the sound of tearing and many soft voices crooning to themselves. The boy crouched against the nemosyne, weeping.
“It’s all right, Hobi, it’s all right,” she said gently, stooping over him. Above her the Aviator Imperator stood, brooding in the gathering dusk. She raised her face to his and said, “We must find others for him. Other people. Otherwise he will go mad. I’ve seen it happen before,” she ended sadly.
The Aviator nodded. “We will find them. There is a girl, a girl I left for dead in the Capital—she knows things, she can deal death with her mind. I would find her.”
“Nothing but death,” the nemosyne said bitterly, hugging the weeping boy to her. “You have seen where it brought them, and still you would have nothing but death.”
The Aviator shrugged. “I have questions, that’s all.” He turned to the Gryphon and lay his hand upon the edge of its steps. When he glanced back at Nefertity a spare ray of light glinted in his pale eyes. “I have always tried to keep an open mind about these things.”
The nemosyne said nothing. She waited until he climbed into the aircraft, then murmured, “Hobi, it’s all right now. We will go from here, we will find another place….”
Hobi shuddered, wiped his eyes, and looked up at her. “I’m ready,” he said at last, his voice hoarse. He looked over his shoulder, to where the eastern horizon was banded with streamers of gold and violet and red.
“It’s over,” said Nefertity. “The storm is gone, it’s passed over us now. That’s the sky, the sun breaking through—”
The boy looked in the other direction, down the hill. He could just make out shadowy figures moving in the distance, and hear scuffling noises in the brush. Before he could turn away a voice called down from the Gryphon.
“Come now—it’s ready, I had to clear away the mess she’d made, but there’s room now for both of you—”
The boy stood, wincing at how much his legs ached. Gingerly he touched the raw gash on his arm where the Aviator had cut him. “Is it safe?”
Nefertity shook her head. “What is ‘safe,’ now? It’s not safe to stay here alone; it’s not safe to have him murder you.” She walked stiffly to the stairway, turned to Hobi, and bowed slightly. “I thank you anyway, Hobi, for waking me. It’s better not to sleep, I think.” Without saying more they climbed into the Gryphon.
He had always thought it would be exciting to fly in one of the Aviator’s biotic craft; but then he had thought it would be exciting to see clouds, too, and mountains. Now Hobi knew that one grew accustomed to things Outside very quickly.
He felt queasy at first, as the Gryphon accelerated impossibly fast and burst into the air like a flame. There was only one biotic hookup, for Tast’annin. Hobi and Nefertity sat in two narrow seats behind him, and peered out a series of round windows at the tor receding beneath them in a rush of gray and brown. Then the Gryphon banked and shot out over the ocean, seeming to bounce across cusps of air like a rickshaw over uneven transway. Hobi bit his thumb and hummed nervously. After a minute or two he felt easier, and leaned closer to the windows.
Below them the ocean purled almost gently against sheer rock, all that could be seen of the precipice that had once sheltered Araboth. Of the domes he could see nothing; only a few bits of flotsam floating in the dark water. As they skimmed above the coast the rock gave way to sandy beach, nearly as smooth as the water itself. There was nothing here either, save for uprooted trees, a torn length of white cloth wrapped around a spar, two sodden bags that almost looked like bodies…
“Hey!”
Hobi yelled so loudly he was surprised the Gryphon didn’t halt, the way a rickshaw would. The Aviator scarcely stirred where he reclined in front of them, only raised a single finger warningly.
“Hey,” Hobi repeated, a little desperately now, “I think those are people there—”
Beside him Nefertity leaned to gaze out her window, then without a word placed her hand upon the Aviator’s shoulder. Abruptly he sat up, glanced down at the beach, then back at Hobi. Still saying nothing he settled back into his seat; but the Gryphon immediately began to descend.
Hobi held his breath, waiting for the jolt when it landed; but he felt nothing, was stunned when the floor slid sideways beneath his feet and the airy steps unfolded. “Wait here,” the Aviator commanded, and climbed out.
Hobi crossed and uncrossed his legs. A gust of warm air shot up from the opening in the craft. If he slanted his head just right he could see one of the Aviator’s booted feet and what might have been the ragged hem of a linen garment. Then abruptly the Aviator’s grim form filled the opening. Hobi crouched back as the rasa climbed inside, carrying something in his arms. The nemosyne slid from her seat onto the floor, folding her long legs under her.
“Move,” the Aviator said sharply, shaking his head at Hobi. The boy hunched into a corner beside Nefertity. The rasa lay a slight figure on the seat where Hobi had been, then silently turned and went back outside. He returned after another minute, this time with an even smaller form that he set in Nefertity’s seat. Without another word he slipped back into his place. The steps slid up and disappeared. With a heart-stopping rush they were airborne again.
When Hobi was sure the Aviator was linked with the Gryphon he leaned forward. In his seat lay a slender figure. At first he thought it was a boy, a boy with shaven head; then with a grimace he drew back.
A gynander. She was breathing heavily, with a slight rattle in her chest. As he watched she suddenly turned to one side and vomited a great quantity of water onto the floor.