Sky Raiders Page 57

Cole felt a little like a death-row inmate at his last meal. They were fattening him up so he could go get eaten by Mira’s rampaging powers.

Jace acted unconcerned. He tossed berries into the air and caught them in his mouth. Mira and Twitch were more subdued. Declan and Jamar ate with them—Declan nibbling at a dry piece of toast, Jamar tearing into the spiciest pie and the pickled eggs. Jamar’s waxy white assistants served the food and drink.

Cole had awakened to find nice clothes—exactly his size—laid out for him. Jace and Twitch had new clothes as well. Mira wore a much more flattering outfit, including a thin silver necklace and sparkly hairpins.

Cole still wasn’t sure precisely what he planned to do. He wanted to corner Declan for advice, but he felt awkward bringing it up during the meal. Unless Declan had compelling alternatives, Cole figured he would leave with the others, then possibly split off when they reached a road to Junction.

After breakfast, Declan stood, supporting himself against the table. “I take it you have decided how to proceed,” he said to Mira.

“We’re going to leave,” Mira said. “I’m going after my powers. The others can join me or go their own way as they choose.”

Cole and Twitch made quick eye contact. Cole wondered how much temptation Twitch felt to take his chances on his own.

“Very well,” Declan said. “I expected as much. It’s really the only option, given the circumstances. I won’t send you away without aid. Most of the semblances and renderings we create here would only function in close proximity to the Brink. The atmosphere near the cloudwalls is much more generous for shaping than elsewhere in Sambria. Nevertheless, I have instructed each of my apprentices to provide an item to help you on your way. These gifts will function anywhere in Sambria. They all belong to Mira. Those who accompany her will benefit from them as well. Asia! Liam!”

Asia entered the room, followed by Lyrus, who carried a wicker basket. She gestured toward him, and the soldier upended the basket on the floor, revealing a tangle of chains and iron balls.

“I call this the Shaper’s Flail,” Asia said. “It responds to a few commands. Flail, ready!”

At those words, the chains became untangled. Five of the iron balls reared up into the air like serpents poised to strike, some higher than others, each attached to one of the thick-linked chains. One ball stayed on the ground. Each ball had to weigh twenty or thirty pounds, and each chain connected to a central iron ring.

“It also responds to commands like ‘return,’ which will send it back to the basket; ‘follow,’ which will make it trail along behind you; ‘defend,’ which will make it protect something or someone; and ‘attack,’ which you should only say if you really mean it. The word ‘flail’ must precede the command for it to work. Flail, return!”

In a clattering blur, the mass of chains and spheres sprang smoothly into the basket. Cole and Twitch shared a glance. The new weapon would definitely bring some added protection.

“The flail is linked to Mira and will only respond to her,” Asia said. “She will guide it to targets with her thoughts and focus, but no effort will be required to determine how it attacks. The flail will also respond to the commands ‘capture’ and ‘threaten.’ As you might guess, don’t try to capture anything delicate. It isn’t a gentle rendering.”

“Thank you, Asia,” Declan said. “Jamar?”

The curly haired shaper stood and held up a red velvet sack with a golden drawstring. “I harvested one of our most abundant natural resources for your use. Massive amounts of water vapor are drawn into the terminal void every day, which means the cloudwall is somehow being constantly replenished. This sack contains twenty thousand cubic yards of fog. It can empty in twenty seconds. Once empty, if you turn the bag inside out, it can swallow up to twenty thousand cubic yards of fog at the same rate. Use it over and over if desired.”

“Are there commands?” Mira asked.

“ ‘Empty slow,’ ‘empty medium,’ ‘empty fast,’ ” Jamar rattled off. “They work when the mouth of the sack is open. When inside out, ‘fill slow,’ ‘fill medium,’ and ‘fill fast.’ No need to make it complicated.”

“Or useful,” Liam said, entering the room on a hovering disk. “Unless they want to ruin an afternoon at a small beach.”

“Perhaps they’ll need to confuse their enemies,” Jamar said.

“Can they see through the fog better than others?” Liam asked.

“They can release the fog behind themselves during an escape,” Jamar said less patiently. “They could fill enemy barracks. Or obscure a courtyard.”

“I guess it could come in handy,” Liam allowed. “Asia’s gift was as subtle as ever.”

“I’m not sure subtlety will be their greatest need,” Asia said.

“Well, I’ll provide some, anyway.” Liam whistled, and a bird flew to his shoulder—a white-and-gray cockatiel with a yellow crest and orange cheeks. “This is Mango.”

“You’re my new masters,” the cockatiel said in an eager voice, only vaguely birdlike. “I’ll spy for you and do whatever else I can to keep you safe and informed.”

“She’ll answer to any of you,” Liam said. “That way if Mira gets knocked unconscious or is otherwise indisposed, you can still give Mango orders. But if you split up, Mango will stay with Mira.”

The cockatiel flitted from Liam’s shoulder to Mira’s. She stood about six inches tall, not counting the long tail feathers. The bird cocked her head and whistled. Mira petted it gently.

“Her wings feel strange,” Mira said.

“Strange?” Mango challenged, ruffling her feathers.

Now that Mira mentioned it, as Cole leaned closer, the bird didn’t look quite right. The texture of the feathers seemed too smooth and shiny.

“Mango is made from a light substance I designed,” Liam said. “I call it ristofly. It makes her much more durable than if she were composed of flesh and actual feathers. She can fly faster and see better than most real birds. She doesn’t need food or water, doesn’t sleep, doesn’t relieve herself, and can dwell underwater as easily as in the air.”

“See how handy I am?” Mango said. “And you sum it up with ‘strange.’ ”

“Sorry,” Mira said. “I didn’t mean any offense.”

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