A coincidence? He doubted it. More likely, Horn worshipped the machines.
X focused his good eye on the Cazador leadership while they watched.
Both Carmela and Forge had stood for a better view. They watched for several minutes before Forge turned to the platform and said something in Spanish to Imulah.
“What did he say?” X asked.
The scribe leaned over. “He said, ‘So it is true. The skinwalkers have returned.’ ”
“Indeed, it is, and what I want to make very clear is…” X blinked at the blurring scene before him. A wave of dizziness took him.
“What I want to make clear is…” he repeated.
“Sir,” Sloan said quietly.
X held up a hand to her and regained his composure. “Horn has no right to this throne,” he said, pointing behind him at the sacred chair. “If he comes here, he will die, and I’ll kill him myself.”
A chuckle sounded from the audience. X scanned the rows of seating but didn’t see who it was. When his good eye roved to the table, he saw why.
The laughter hadn’t come from the outer gallery, it had come from the head table, where Colonel Carmela Moreto stood with a smirk on her wrinkled face.
Anger flared in X’s chest. He walked down the stairs and out onto the floor, with Miles at heel. The cockatoo on Carmela’s armored shoulder squawked at the dog, and Miles growled back, putting the bird to flight.
The smirk evaporated.
“You find something funny?” X said.
Imulah translated.
She shrugged, then reached into the air for Kotchee to return.
“Then why are you smiling?” X said.
She stepped up to meet him, and they came together face to face. Her lips curled back, and she spoke rapidly while holding his gaze.
“Imulah,” X snapped when the scribe paused.
“Uh,” Imulah stuttered. “She says you don’t look as if you could put down Horn.”
“And what else? That’s not all she just said.”
Imulah unclasped his hands. He cleared his throat. “She also said that you are underestimating Horn, just as General Santiago did in the wastes, and that he will be the new king.”
“Did she, now,” X muttered.
It was obvious some of these people thought he looked weak, but that was precisely why he now stood in front of Colonel Moreto—to prove that his injuries and a fever weren’t enough to keep him from the important task of protecting the islands.
As long as he didn’t pass out, he would prove he could still lead.
“You just focus on the mission to the Iron Reef and protecting the fuel outpost,” X said. “Let me worry about the defense of these islands.”
Imulah relayed his words. Carmela narrowed her brows, clearly not happy about being sent off when she had her sights on a higher position in the Cazador military.
Rhino had been right about wanting to kill her after she invoked the Black Order at the Sky Arena, during his match against Warthog.
Maybe if X had listened, Rhino would still be alive. But killing Carmela now would just cause more problems. Sending her far away was still the best option.
X held steady, not taking his gaze off her.
“How are the repairs to Shadow and Renegade coming along?” he asked.
Carmela raised a graying eyebrow and replied through Imulah.
“She says they expect to be complete by tomorrow on Renegade, but Shadow is ready to go,” he said. “Colonel Forge has taken over that ship.”
“I want you and your dumb bird out of here as soon as it’s seaworthy,” X said to Carmela. “You got that?”
Imulah explained his orders. Even with a moment to think, X didn’t regret his tone or words. She needed to know who was in charge. He would not tolerate her open disrespect.
Her jaw clenched in anger, and her hand went to the hilt of her sword.
The Hell Divers all stood, even the Cazadores. Ted reached down to his holstered blaster, gripping the handle of the sawed-off triple-barreled weapon.
Footsteps clanked as Ton and Victor moved in to flank X.
X raised a battered finger. “No sea estúpida,” he said.
Her eyes burned with rage, but Colonel Forge clicked his tongue to draw her attention. He spoke rapidly, and she finally backed down.
“Lieutenant Sloan, please join us,” X said.
Already right behind him, Sloan stepped up by his side.
“I want you to work with Colonel Forge, making our defenses ready to destroy the skinwalkers if they decide to embark on a suicide mission. Colonel Forge will use Shadow to patrol our borders, while Moreto takes Renegade to Belize.”
Sloan didn’t seem to like the idea, but she didn’t protest, and when Imulah had finished relaying the orders, Forge nodded.
“Usted… have my sword, King Javier,” Forge said in broken English. Then he shut his mouth, concealing the sharpened teeth that, unlike a lot of the Cazadores, he rarely showed off.
“Gracias, Coronel,” X said. He eyed Carmela once more and then walked back to the platform. Miles trotted after him. Climbing the stairs brought on a second wave of dizziness, but X kept going up even as his vision blurred.
He misjudged the second step and tripped, banging his knee.
Ton and Victor rushed over with Wynn to help him back up.
“I’m fine,” X said, waving them back.
X paused a second to take a breath and then stood. Another wave of chills rattled his bones. Then he started to go numb, much as he had when dying of cancer in the wastes.
He staggered to the throne and plopped down, heart thumping, afraid to look out over the room. His fall had basically proved Carmela’s point. It didn’t matter how many Cazador warriors he had slain or how many monsters he had gutted. He was in no shape to fight Horn.
In the eyes of everyone in this chamber, X suddenly didn’t look like an immortal. He looked like a dying old man, and that made him a target for any Cazador warrior eager to take the crown.
Horn wasn’t the only one X had to worry about now.
THREE
An alarm blared across the airship, and this time, Les couldn’t just order Timothy to shut it off. This was an automatic emergency siren and would blare as long as the threat remained.
He stopped inside the enclosed ladder that led down to the bridge.
“Timothy, what the hell triggered that alarm?” Les said into his headset.
“Most of my sensors are offline, Captain, but I detected a fire in compartment four. I’ve already sealed off the section and am neutralizing the flames.”
“That’s right above engineering,” Les said. His blood iced at the implications. The wiring there powered the turbofans and the six thrusters.
“Come on!” Les said to the three militia soldiers behind him. Corporal Banks didn’t waste a moment.
They pounded down the ladder to a landing, cleared the next flight, and hit the final landing outside engineering with a thud.
“Michael, Mags, where are you?” Les asked over the comms.
“Outside the hatch up to the top mezzanine,” Michael replied.
“Be careful, and don’t hit anything critical,” Les said.
“Aye-aye, Captain.”
“Timothy, you got a reading on the Sirens inside engineering yet?” Les asked.
“Afraid not, Captain,” replied the AI. “Most of my sensors are still offline.”