At last, the hint of a smile in his eyes. “I should know better by now.” He slumped in his seat. “Stubborn Om’ray.” One finger pushed a button and the aircar shot forward, faster than Aryl had known it could go. “Sit.” This to Enris, who put his hand on the Human’s shoulder and squeezed gently before returning to the bench.
Naryn closed her eyes and put her head back, hair fretting across her shoulders. This flight wasn’t going to improve her opinion of Marcus Bowman or his kind.
Aryl checked her longknife.
For all the good it might do against what could bring fire down in the midst of a lake.
They flew over the canopy. Over Yena, her inner sense told her. Aryl kept her shields tight and felt the others do the same. Taisal could have reached through the M’hir, demanded an explanation; that her mother ignored their passing overhead was one less worry.
Eyes fixed to his screens, Marcus ignored the view. They were higher this time. Higher than wastryls flew or wings could rise on the M’hir. Higher and faster. Without her inner sense to give her perspective, she wouldn’t have recognized the Sarc grove, or spotted the ring of old rastis that surrounded the Cloisters.
How high could they go, she wondered, before they reached the end of the sky?
Site Two was carved into the side of a mountain ridge. Though Aryl had only seen it in truenight, the Strangers had stuck glows everywhere, turning the darkness to day. Easy to remember the long sharp ledge where they landed their machines—she trusted Marcus was capable of landing this one there—then the short walk up a slope to a second, higher ledge where the Strangers had set up camp using the same plain white constructions as at Sona. Why? Because here they’d dug into the mountain itself. They’d freed a series of massive structures, exposing them once more to light and air. She’d had the barest glimpse at the time, busy planning to escape with Enris, but the buildings had been like those under the Lake of Fire, smooth curves and unfamiliar angles. Perfect, undamaged. Not like the ruins of Sona.
The Hoveny Concentrix.
The Strangers had made a discovery. Something important enough to draw Marcus and his Triad—and her—here.
“Marcus, what did they find? At Site Two.”
He gave her a bemused look, as if this was the last thing he’d expected. For a moment she thought he’d evade the question, as he most often did when it concerned his work, then he replied, “A door.”
Doors, in her experience, were only useful under one condition. “A door you could open?”
“Could? I think so. But we’re not ready yet.” He cupped his hands tightly together. “The inside has been sealed a very long time. Still intact. We want to know about the internalenvironment—the air—inside. Vital to detect any systems still operational.” He lifted his thumb to make a small opening. “Tyler’s Triad made controlledaccesspoint, lockdown rest until ready. Send tiny vidbots to look for us. They’ll finish the first level soon, then move to the next. Takes time.” His gloom lifted as he spoke. “Hoveny structures are almost always empty, as if the owners moved out and then locked the doors. Best finds so far have been what was missed. Objects left on a floor, perhaps dropped in a hurry. Artifacts. Tell us little alone. Have nocontext. What we really want to find are workinginstallations. Parts of building that couldn’t be moved. Remarkable preservation inside. They might still work.”
Aryl thought of the tables filled with objects she’d seen being sorted. “You have artifacts at Sona.”
He grimaced. “Oud don’t respect doors. Made big mess.”
Enris laughed.
TRILLLLLL!!
The noise burst from the control panel. Lights flashed. Marcus bent over it, muttering in his own language. He did something to silence the sound, but the lights reflected on his pale skin, turning it red, then blue, then yellow. Red again. He stood to stare through the clear ceiling at the scattered clouds overhead, then dropped back into his seat. “Watch,” he ordered. “Tell me if you see anything approaching.”
“From above?” Naryn asked in disbelief. Aryl shared her reaction. What was the Human thinking?
“From anywhere.”
The aircar began to descend, quickly.
“Don’t crash this time,” Aryl reminded the Human, her hands gripping the edge of the seat.
For some reason this made Marcus choke on a laugh of his own.
Down. Down. The lights played over them like biters hunting a spot to bite. Aryl did her best to ignore them, staring out as Marcus directed. Enris and Naryn did the same.
They had to be close to Site Two by now, Aryl thought. Looking down, she could see the slope of the mountain, littered with loose rock. Loose rock with an appetite. A patient, seldom rewarded appetite—not much wandered here.
“Something’s behind us.” Enris. What is it? he asked her, sharing the image of a distant speck.
Wastryl—or not.
Marcus didn’t look around. “Is it getting closer?”
“I can’t tell.”
TRILLL!!!
The aircar swung violently to one side and back again, like a branch pulled and released with a snap. Aryl clung to her seat, her eyes on Marcus.
Who now looked furious.
“What was that?”
“A suggestion.” Unhelpfully. “Don’t talk now.”
A suggestion? Enris sent. What’s going on?
Maybe he avoided a wastryl. She’d seen a vidbot explode when attacked by the flying creatures.
Can he land at this speed?
Aryl glanced out the side and flinched. The mountainside roared by, too close, a blur of shadow and jagged edge. We have to trust him.
Privately, through the M’hir, their link as solid as flesh touching. No, we don’t. We could leave, now.
I won’t risk Naryn. Or Anaj.
This doesn’t?
We must know what’s happening to the Strangers. Aryl pulled free, refused to be distracted. Some risks had to be taken. She focused on Marcus. His hands were sure on the controls, as if anger had burned away all fear. Anger at what?
The aircar tipped to one side, answering her question.
No one spoke as they flew past what had been Site Two. Wisps of smoke marked the remains of buildings. Crumbled machines, scorched and useless, lay on what had been the landing ledge.
No one had escaped that way, Aryl thought.
The Hoveny buildings were unscathed. Rock lay shattered around them, mixed with bits of machine, but the structures were as flawless as she remembered.
Marcus did little more than glance at the devastation before turning back to the small screen. A muscle along his jaw twitched. It was the only expression left on his face. He sent the aircar upward again; faster than before.
This time, no talk of taking them home first.
Or of accidents.
Site Three, Aryl told the others. She didn’t know where it was, what it was.
I don’t want to meet what could do this, Naryn protested.
We must. Enris, as grim as she’d ever felt him. So he shared her dread. Ruthless, coordinated attacks. Technology equal to or superior to that of the Strangers. What chance would Om’ray have, if they became the next targets?
Or Oud.
Or Tikitik.
Courage, she sent, wishing for more of her own.
Marcus headed away from Grona and Yena, choosing a path that, to Om’ray sense, led to where the sun dropped out of sight, leaving darkness behind. Mountains passed beneath them, a monotonous landscape of ridges and deep valleys, browns and grays. Rarely, a glistening thread marked what must be a river. Proof, Aryl thought, that the world continued beyond Sona’s waterfall.