Chapter 372: 372: Papa is coming part Five
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"Skyweaver. Stay up. I need eyes to the east. Climb high. Do not cast a shadow on their camp guards. Wait for my call."
"I will ride the high edge," Skyweaver said. "I will not dive until you pull me."
"Silvershadow," he sent a message, quieter, lower, the way you speak near a sleeping beast. "You are near the east line. Find the cage. Do not touch it. Mark a straight line between you and me. When you see her, I move."
"I am almost there," Silvershadow answered. His voice was the sound of a thin blade drawn very slow. "I will set a reed in the sand when I am at the camp. If you step over it, you are too close to turn."
"Good."
"Alka," he sent last, up and up. "Climb above the cloud. Drift. Count. When I call, you fall like a hammer. Until then you are only a cloud."
"I am already in the clouds, ice on my wings," Alka answered. "Call me."
He hit the last lip. Azhara met him there, already strapped, hair tied back, knives plain, short bow wrapped tight to her back.
"What do we cut," she asked.
"A cage, a grin, and any hand between my girl and us," he said.
"Good," she said. "I brought rope and quiet blades."
They slid down the first dune shoulder to shoulder. The heat rose from the sand like a breath. Light bounced.
Azhara took the right flank without being asked and matched his steps. She did not kick dust. She used her hands when needed to steady against the slope. She wore reed sandals that did not squeak on dry grains. She even had small pads tied at the ankles to kill the tiny sound of plates brushing. Her knives were wrapped in dull cloth so they would not flash.
Kai ran using Reflex mode. Not like a boy. Not like a beast. Like a soldier who knows the road and knows his lungs. He tapped Ant's Instinct in short pulls to read where the sand had a skin and where it was a mouth. Five minutes, then off. Five minutes, then off. He let Reflex Mode brush his nerves, then set it aside before it stole his time.
He kept Tiny Tank for the end. Adaptive Armor flexed around his joints and took the sting out of the sun. Pain Resistance sat under his thoughts like a floor.
He wanted to roar and he did not. He wanted to throw the spear and run faster than it and he did not. He kept the picture of his open hand in his head and made it wide enough to stand on.
The first hour burned away. The foot drums to the east changed from raw thudding to a pattern. The wind shifted a little and cooled. Azhara paced him without complaint. She did not tell a story. She did not ask if he was all right. She breathed and watched the ground and kept one eye on the sky for a hawk that might show a line.
On the mountain, Luna and Akayoroi moved like one mind through the inner ring. They checked the lamp oil, counted the trap bomb, and made a list without speaking about it. Luna stopped by the small altar stone at the nursery door. She set her palm on it for one breath. Akayoroi watched the nurseries and watched Luna and watched the hall and saw where fear tried to cut a corner. She blocked those corners with a word and a hand.
Naaro stood guard at the sacred door with her arms folded and her four legs set like posts. When a young sister tried to pass her with a half lie on his tongue, she pointed at the bucket in his hands and said, "Water to the old ones first." She went where she said without a word.
Vel and Sha drew stew and set bowls on trays. They took turns tasting to be sure the spice was right and the fat did not rise too thick. Vel kept looking at the east shaft with wet eyes until Sha flicked her lightly with her tail and said, "Watch the spice or he will feed you to it when he brings her back." Vel snorted and wiped her face with her sleeve and checked the spice.
Lirien heated water in two kettles and placed rags in a clean bowl. She set out a dull knife, a needle, and thread. She did not like the thought that she would need any of it, but she set them out anyway. She added a spoon of star crystal dust to a small flask of water and closed it tight. She wrote on a slate the names of the things and wiped it away again because names do strange things when left where worry can see them.
Shadeclaw walked the inner traps with a small hook in his hand. He tapped a tread here and there and watched the way the stone shifted. He was pleased to see that everything wanted to behave the way he had asked it to. He set two more scrapes on a suspicion and moved on.
Meanwhile, Silvershadow crossed the sand in a slow crawl that did not raise a ripple. He stopped often and put his cheek to the ground. He listened to cart wheels far away and the small kick of a stake being set deeper. He smelled the canvas of the dome and the old tar of the ropes. He set the bent reed that would be Kai's stop and lay with two fingers on it like a man holding a bell that must not ring.
Skyweaver climbed until the air grew thin and sharp. The higher she went, the less she felt like flesh, the more she became angle and line. She turned her body to the wind until she was a strip of metal in a cold current. She counted carts, fires, lines, and shadows that did not move like the others. She marked each shadow twice to be sure.