The shadows between the first three cargo craft they reached provided a shallow concealment, but not enough to keep Lapis from worrying about a stray merc catching sight of them. She hated the thought of the enemy accessing the tech turrets of adjacent flyers and shooting at them.
Patch and Brander kicked snow over the red flares, bringing further darkness to their muddy path. Angry shouts increasing in volume reverberated to them, and if the fisticuffs reflected what they heard, the mercs would keep themselves occupied for a good long while, tearing each other apart to usurp ownership of choice pieces.
She had no reason to think them any less greedy than the average Jiy shank.
Chiddle paused and raised a hand. They hunched down as the khentauree padded to a smaller Swift and looked around the backend before turning to them. “The khentuaree are near. The captors leave with the guards. They look unhappy and argue.”
Worried about receiving their fair share? How differently these red tridents behaved, compared to the terror-inducing ones at Ambercaast. Curiosity needled as to why, but she doubted she would ever discover the answer. Her focus needed to remain on freeing the khentauree and Rin.
Tuft iced the flares circling the craft, casting the walkway into darkness. Chiddle went first, and they followed, scurrying across open space and up the vacant ramp.
The interior had unboxed loot strewn everywhere, and she wondered how much of it would survive the flight intact. Most of it was gold-plated, be that chair, lamp, table. She saw faucets, small boxes, and glassware heaped in a pile, and, if they remained unsecured, they would roll about, maybe fracture. The mercs probably expected to melt it down and did not care about whether the items remained whole.
Had it all come from a few rooms? She did not think the red tridents had been at the mines long enough for an extensive looting expedition.
Black padding covered the walls except for a closed, chest-sized metal box attached to the side of the door that led to the pilot’s section. The floor had crisscrossed grooves, a good thing for snow-caked boots. The lack of seating pricked her curiosity. Had they planned on kidnapping khentauree to fill the vessel, and the men ignored their charge in favor of gold?
The khentauree squeezed together, hands cuffed behind their backs, flashing chains wrapped around their legs. They sat carefully, as if the flashes caused harm if they moved too much.
“Tuft!” they said in unison.
“Shh,” Lapis cautioned. “Did they say where they were taking Rin?”
“They said to take him and the other humans to the MAV, but we don’t know what that means,” one said in a humming whisper.
“It’s a multi-activation vessel. It’s the ship their leader’ll be in,” Patch said. Lapis firmed her lips and looked back out the door as Brander hustled to them and sank to his knees next to the nearest mechanical being, shoving the picks into the small metal square that held their hands.
“There is one craft near the eastern cliffside that has two humans standing separate from five sitting behind them,” Chiddle murmured. “All other warm bodies are at the entrance.”
“They spoke of him bringing money,” another khentauree said. “I don’t know what they meant.”
Scenarios raced through Lapis’s mind, and she immediately ditched them. She refused to think about what might happen, because his rescue would make sure nothing did. “Alright. I’m going to see if there’s a way onboard.”
“Brander?” Patch asked.
“This won’t take long,” he said. “I think you’re right about outdated Dentherion tech. These are older models, and the picks will breeze through.”
“There are others,” a third said. “In the brickbages.”
Tuft hissed and Lapis frowned. “Brickbages?”
“They are electrified cages,” Tuft growled. Lapis’s neck prickled, and unease crept from her chest and into her throat. “The humans used them to subdue willful khentauree. They prevent sight, sound, and communication.” His tone deepened. “We will save them.”
“I will go with Lanth,” Chiddle said. “Tuft’s ice will protect Brander and the khentauree, if they are found.”
“It will,” he agreed. Of course it would. He had no qualms about chilling allies to death, let alone the enemy.
“Alright.” Patch rose and Brander raised his chin.
“Be careful,” he cautioned.
As if they needed the warning. “You too,” she whispered, and she did not speak of red tridents.
The lack of mercs relieved and concerned Lapis as she followed Patch down the ramp. When the brawl finished, the lot who lost would look for someone to take their anger out on—and captives had no defense. They might hesitate to strike khentauree, but a scrawny teen like Rin would be an unthreatening target.
Patch bent over and darted to the left, weaving in and out of shadows. He slowed, then crept around a single-man craft and hunkered down at the rear. Lapis pressed against his back and glanced at the cockpit. Why arrive with a fighting force that could battle in the air? Who had they expected to meet above the Shivers? Bov Caardinva? Did they think he had a fleet of combat Swifts ready to deploy?
How many men had these ships brought? The cargo ones could hold two dozen if squeezed together. Did they not need room to fly back to their headquarters? Or had the powers that be replaced the living with gold-crusted whatnots, promising to return for the mercs? Maybe that motivated the fight, and not just sparkly stuff.
Who wanted to be left behind on a snow-blanketed, deeply cold mountainside?
She peeked around Patch’s shoulder at the craft she assumed was the MAV. It sat in the middle of smaller escort Swifts, and instead of being a bulbous body attached to wings, it was a sleek triangular vessel with a flared back. A ramp with running lights jutted into the frozen mud, guarded by two mercs who stood to the far side, craning their necks, paying more attention to the fight than the captives.
“My scans detect only these seven,” Chiddle said, his tone blending with the wind. “The rest fight over treasures. Is this not odd?”
Patch shook his head. “Considering they’ve faced khentauree and Caardinva’s people, I would have expected them to have everything guarded, and those sentries alert. I don’t think this force is as professional as the one sent to Ambercaast. There are a lot of younger faces out here, and too much interest in looting.”
Good for them. They could keep at it.
Lapis studied the area. “I don’t think we can sneak past the guards. Even distracted, they’re going to notice someone going up the ramp.”
“I can fix that,” Chiddle said. He trotted to the nose and disappeared around the opposite side of the MAV before she or Patch voiced a reply. Her partner pursed his lips but did not complain, though she had full faith, if he had chosen to, he would have ended the enemy threat without their buddies the wiser.
He did not wait for Chiddle to take them down before sneaking to the front of the MAV. She thought that premature until she heard gargles; he anticipated the khentauree would quickly dispatch his target. He skirted the side and up the ramp, paying no attention to the place the mercs had stood. She scurried after, only noticing kicked flares and trampled snow, but no blood.
The unlit cargo bay took up maybe a fourth of the craft and had wooden crates tied together with yellow twine, the knotted ends hooked over metal pegs jutting from the dinged walls and ceiling. Grooved, grungy tiles made up the flooring, and Lapis winced as thumps echoed from her boots.
Patch waved at her to stay, his patch lights active enough that she knew he scanned the area. He crept forward, peeking behind the crates to the right. He put a finger to his lips, glanced back at her, and motioned for her to join him.
Chiddle stepped up the ramp, his hooves making no noise. Envy surged; why could she not be as quiet? Experienced chasers should make no sound.
Rin!
Ecstatic happiness flared as Patch pulled the cloth used to gag him from his mouth; the rat spit and coughed as her partner did the same for the blue deer mercs.
“Y’ shouldn’t a come fer me,” he whispered, stressed. Lapis schooched around Patch and squatted at the rat’s side, looking at the sparking, tubed chains constraining his wrists and ankles. He, as the mercs, sat with his back to the wall, feet out, though the blue deer had their knees tied together as well.
“Like I’m leaving you to the tridents,” she hissed as she scanned him for injury. She set her hand on his shoulder and met bleary eyes. “I’ll always come for you. You know that.”
“You speak Lydissian?” the first ungagged merc asked, in an accent similar to, but not quite, Cassa’s. A Meergeven, then, and not just hired help from Theyndora. He was angry, but she had the impression the situation pricked him rather than Rin’s deception.
“Aye,” he muttered. “Weren’t gonna tell thems that, though—jes’ like you didn’t.”
Patch patted his leg. “There’s a reason you’re the Lady’s apprentice,” he said.
The mercs gasped, eyes popping, as Chiddle bowed over her partner and studied the ties. Two cowered into the wall, eyes squeezed shut. It said much, they expected something nasty to happen to them. If Tuft had accompanied them, maybe it would have.
“I saw how Brander used the candysticks,” the khentauree said. “I can replicate it, but my fingers are not long and thin, like the picks. I would break the chain and hope I did so fast enough to prevent harm.”
“Brander’s here?” Rin asked as the three other mercs leaned back and suspiciously eyed the mechanical being.
“Yes. He frees the khentauree.”
“How’s that going?” Patch asked.
“Tuft says that one set malfunctioned, so it took longer to remove than expected. The brickbages have these chains holding locks in place, and he asked that Brander pick them before he comes to us.”
“He’d better hurry,” Patch said. “Those mercs aren’t going to fight over loot the rest of the night.”
The blue deer speaker snorted. “Tech put in the hands of boys,” he muttered. “Do you know who they are?”
“Nope. While these craft are Dentherion military, I don’t think they’re involved. I think the ships belong to a rich somebody who likes to playact war.”
Chiddle nudged her shoulder with his knee, and with a parting squeeze, Lapis moved to allow him a closer look at Rin’s chains. She padded past Patch and scanned for the enemy, though she assumed her partner would notice anyone approaching long before she did.
“Is that why they’re taking all this gold shit?” the man asked. “Where did it come from?”
“An old Stars cult temple that’s hooked up to the mine,” Lapis said. “It’s stuff Taangis left behind when they evacuated this place. Seems they thought shiny was better than whatever they were sent here to retrieve.”
“They’s talkin’ ‘bout some of it,” Rin said. “Somethin’ ‘bout energy sources. They’d expected khentauree, not people, but I don’t think they’s lookin’ fer sponoil.”
“No, they aren’t,” she agreed. “I don’t suppose they grumbled about why they were sent here and not somewhere else?”
“Nah. They said somethin’ ‘bout Moorlight, though. Think they’s a person.”
“Moorlight?” Patch rocked back on the balls of his feet, hands dangling between his legs, and squinted at the rat. “What exactly did they say?”
“Moorlight’s dockin’ in Trave, ‘n they’d need the good shit.”
Enlightening.
“Chiddle, ask Sanna to ask Jhor what he knows about Moorlight.”
“Jhor?” the merc asked, startled.
“Yeah. He’s working with us.”
Chiddle hummed. “Jhor says Moorlight is a Lords’ Council family. The elder Lord Moorlight is a respected member with great prestige, but one of his sons is a syndicate puppet. It’s not an open secret, but the military knew about it because he would attempt to purchase military-grade equipment using his father’s reputation as a hammer, then sell it to whichever syndicate paid the most. All units were under strict orders to refuse his requests.”
Patch smashed his lips together, bottling unhappy rage. He knew something about Moorlight, then, but he refused to speak in front of the mercs. Was it a rebel thing? Or did his family have something to do with it? She could see Diros trying to get in good with the Lords’ Council by way of a corrupt son.
Chiddle straightened, focused. “Tuft says Brander comes. I told him how to find us.”
