It was embarrassing, but they couldn’t seem to do anything about it.
Mirai came down off the steps of the veranda and walked up to Redden. “Hey there, Red. Happy to see me?”
She leaned in and kissed him on the cheek, and he felt the iron in her hands as she gripped his shoulders. No hesitation, not even a pause as she approached and decided—rightly—which twin he was.
“Railing,” she greeted his brother, moving over to kiss him, as well. She touched his cheek and wiped something away. “Busy morning?” she asked, eyes laughing, smiling widely. “Helping that old man must have been hard work.”
Railing started to say something in reply, but she put a finger on his lips to silence him and shook her head. “Why don’t you just come inside and eat something before it’s time to leave?”
Without further explanation she took his hand, then Redden’s, and tugged them both after her up the steps and through the door. She was the same age as they were, but it always felt to them as if she were much older and much more in control of things. The brothers went docilely, smiling at their mother who was watching it all with narrowed eyes, feeling like little boys caught out.
Mirai did that to them. She was the one thing they didn’t share. Couldn’t share. They were both in love with her and had been for as long as they could remember, and they both realized that in the end only one of them could have her.
They sat down together at the kitchen table and exchanged small talk while they ate. Their mother refrained from asking more about the old man, so Redden was not called upon to embellish his lie. Because both twins had washed up before coming to the table, Railing had been able to wipe off a few other telltale stains and scrapes that might have invited additional questions. But Sarys seemed content to sit and listen to her sons and Mirai visit, enjoying their conversation, even smiling now and then at what was said.
It was one of the oddities of their lives that the twins were allowed to spend so much time with the blond-haired girl from Leah. Sarys was cautious about almost everyone with whom her boys came in contact, even other members of their extended family—maybe especially other members of their extended family when it came to the Rover clans—yet seemed to harbor no doubts at all when it came to Mirai Leah. Which was exceedingly odd. Of all the people she should have been worried about, Mirai belonged at the top of the list. Not because she was a bad person. Not because they were both in love with her and this sometimes caused friction. Not even because her family had once been rulers of the Highlands of Leah, but had since abdicated and become just another family working for a living like everyone else.
Not for any of these reasons, but because when you stripped away what was on the surface—her looks and her manners and her ability to charm—she was just a female version of the twins, warts and all.
“You said something about leaving?” Redden asked after they had finished eating and were sipping from glasses of ale. Their mother had started clearing the dishes and momentarily left the room. “You just got here. Where are you going?”
“Not me. We. The three of us. To the Westland, if you want to make the trip with me.” She gave him a look. “But only if you want to come. I wouldn’t dream of taking you away from anything important. Like helping out old men with their fishing nets.”
Redden shrugged. “We’re done with that. Why are we going to the Westland?”
“Hauling transport,” Railing guessed. She nodded. “What sort of cargo is it? Weapons?”
She shook her head. “Radian draws salvaged from downed airships. I’ve been scavenging them for months. Papa says it’s time to sell. So I found a buyer.” There was a twinkle in her green eyes. “Guess who?”
The twins hesitated. “Rovers?” Railing guessed.
She nodded. “But not just any Rovers. Family. Farshaun Req, as a matter of fact.”
“Bakrabru!” Railing gasped, and almost let out a whoop as he started to leap up. Farshaun Req had taught all of them the most complex and useful tricks for flying airships, back when they were just beginning their education. Without his encouragement and patience, they might not be flying now—and this included Mirai. But in the process of helping them, he had run afoul of Sarys, who had since forbidden the twins to have anything to do with him.
“Mother won’t let us go,” Redden said, grabbing his brother and pulling him back down. “Not in a million years.”
Mirai gave him a look of incredulity. “Since when do you tell your mother everything you plan to do?”
Redden stared at her. “What does that mean? Are we supposed to lie to her?”
She made a rude noise. “Of course not. I wouldn’t expect you to know how to do it properly. So I took care of it for you. I told her we were going to make a delivery on behalf of my father to people he trades with regularly in Bakrabru. You could tell her the same thing. Say you’re taking some of those skill masts you spend so much time fashioning.” She shrugged. “Don’t mention Farshaun.”
“But she must have already guessed just from what you told her,” Redden pressed. “Even she isn’t that gullible.”
Mirai shrugged. “Well, I might have mentioned that Farshaun was away for several weeks in the Sarandanon so she wouldn’t have to worry about us seeing him.”
“And she agreed to let us go?”
Mirai winked. “What do you think?”
When Sarys returned a moment later, Mirai was finishing clearing away the dishes and her sons were grinning at each other like mad fools. She shook her head in despair. Love was a terrible thing.
A little more than two hours later, Redden and Railing were flying west over the Duln, the last glimpse of Patch Run behind them. Working the radian draws and light sheaths, they bounded here and there across the deck of the big airship while Mirai stood at the helm. Quickening was the Highland girl’s ship, given to her two years earlier when she entered into the family transport business, a measure of her parents’ confidence in her abilities. Quickening was named for a fairy creature said to have been the child of the King of the Silver River, a young woman who possessed great magic. If the legends could be believed, she was created to aid one of the Ohmsfords in becoming successor to the Druid Allanon and in recovering a talisman called the Black Elfstone. A member of Mirai’s own family, Morgan Leah, had gone with them on their quest and fallen in love with Quickening. He had lost her in the end, but their love story had been passed down from generation to generation and Mirai liked it enough to name her transport for the girl.
Quickening was a fine ship. Big and sturdy, she could be nimble and dexterous, as well. She was armor-clad from bow to stern and equipped with rail slings and winch-fired crossbows. The empty cradles positioned at all four corners had been built to hold and utilize fire launchers. Illegal everywhere in the Four Lands by Druid Edict since Federation Prime Minister Sen Dunsidan had built one secretly and then tried to use it against the Elves, fire launchers were nevertheless available if you knew the right people. Thus, every transport making a regular run from one quarter of the Four Lands to another tried to have at least one hidden on board.
Quickening was blessed with a full complement thanks to the efforts of Redden and Railing, who had secured them through their contacts on the black market and delivered them unbidden in an effort to win Mirai’s admiration and favor. She had bestowed both on each twin, although neither was fully aware of just how much she had lavished on the other.
This was because they didn’t talk about their feelings for Mirai—at least not in the way they might have if they weren’t in competition for her. It was the only matter on which they did not share opinions and feelings. Each of them was fiercely protective of his relationship with her, even without entirely understanding its nature.