Read Online The Ships of Air (The Fall of Ile-Rein) by Martha Wells - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Martha Wells
Ads: Link
what remained in the sphere. The other powerful sorcerers who might have helped were trapped or dead at Lodun, trapped or dead at the overrun Aderassi front, and if the Gardier had reached Vienne by now, trapped or dead there too. “Couldn’t Gerard think of anything?”
Giliead’s expression grew a little less distant. He shrugged slightly and said, “He’s offered to take Ixion along when you go back to your land. And we appreciate the offer, but it would be better if we could get rid of him ourselves. If Ilias could see it was done and over.” He hesitated, then added a touch stiffly, “He has nightmares.”
And again, Ilias isn’t the only one who’d like to see it done and over, Tremaine thought, watching his face. Under the worry, Giliead looked guilty. That had never been something her father had suffered from. If you don’t care for the consequences then don’t commit the crime, Nicholas had said once, years ago when she was too young to understand that he meant it literally. But not everybody understood what the consequences were likely to be. And not everybody had a choice. And you don’t know how he felt after your mother was killed, some traitor voice said. She shook herself, pushing the uncomfortable thoughts away. “I have nightmares too, sometimes,” she said, though her dream of the Ravenna sinking seemed far away now.
Giliead shook his head, ready to change the subject. “Gerard also said as soon as the storm clears and the Gardier leave the area, the ship will turn inland and they’ll put us ashore where we can reach Cineth easily. Then you’ll leave.”
Tremaine frowned, rubbing her eyes. I was afraid of that . “Without stopping at Cineth?”
“Maybe.” He looked at her, his face serious. “We told him we want an alliance, your people with ours.”
Tremaine nodded slowly. As the Gardier had used the island as a staging area for raids on the Ile-Rien coast, it would make an excellent spot for Rienish troops to prepare to retake the country. They could use both spheres, Arisilde’s and the one Niles had built, to open gateways to the coast or further inland, slipping spies, ships, armies through the etheric world-gates. If any Rienish armies had survived. They could still do it without Cineth’s cooperation, but Tremaine didn’t want to break that tenuous tie. “You think Nicanor and the others would go for this? An alliance with a world of wizards?”
Giliead looked away with a resigned expression. “I’ve given up trying to guess what Nicanor and Visolela will or won’t do. But Halian seems to think so.”
Tremaine frowned, trying to read his expression. “But we think Halian’s an optimist.”
A t first the Rienish guards tried to talk to Ilias, but realizing that was impossible, they fell to talking among themselves. He suspected they would like to ask about what they were guarding; he was just as glad they couldn’t.
He had taken a seat on a wooden bench bolted to the wall and leaned back, stretching his legs out. He was beginning to get used to the feel of being underground, the metal walls, the strange noises and acrid scents in the air, though combined with the roll of a ship at sea it was passing strange. But as tired as he was, he didn’t feel like dozing off. Not with that thing only one wall away, he thought, eyeing the door to Ixion’s prison. One of the guards, studying him thoughtfully and perhaps too accurately reading his expression, went to the glass window to check on the wizard’s sprawled body.
For years Ilias and Giliead had never known what Ixion looked like. The wizard had been too canny to ever face Giliead directly, sending creatures or laying subtle curse traps for him instead. Then the search had led them to a mountain village stalked by a curseling; the instant the survivors had described it they had known it was something Ixion was responsible for. It had fur and claws like an animal, but metal and wooden parts had been
Giliead’s expression grew a little less distant. He shrugged slightly and said, “He’s offered to take Ixion along when you go back to your land. And we appreciate the offer, but it would be better if we could get rid of him ourselves. If Ilias could see it was done and over.” He hesitated, then added a touch stiffly, “He has nightmares.”
And again, Ilias isn’t the only one who’d like to see it done and over, Tremaine thought, watching his face. Under the worry, Giliead looked guilty. That had never been something her father had suffered from. If you don’t care for the consequences then don’t commit the crime, Nicholas had said once, years ago when she was too young to understand that he meant it literally. But not everybody understood what the consequences were likely to be. And not everybody had a choice. And you don’t know how he felt after your mother was killed, some traitor voice said. She shook herself, pushing the uncomfortable thoughts away. “I have nightmares too, sometimes,” she said, though her dream of the Ravenna sinking seemed far away now.
Giliead shook his head, ready to change the subject. “Gerard also said as soon as the storm clears and the Gardier leave the area, the ship will turn inland and they’ll put us ashore where we can reach Cineth easily. Then you’ll leave.”
Tremaine frowned, rubbing her eyes. I was afraid of that . “Without stopping at Cineth?”
“Maybe.” He looked at her, his face serious. “We told him we want an alliance, your people with ours.”
Tremaine nodded slowly. As the Gardier had used the island as a staging area for raids on the Ile-Rien coast, it would make an excellent spot for Rienish troops to prepare to retake the country. They could use both spheres, Arisilde’s and the one Niles had built, to open gateways to the coast or further inland, slipping spies, ships, armies through the etheric world-gates. If any Rienish armies had survived. They could still do it without Cineth’s cooperation, but Tremaine didn’t want to break that tenuous tie. “You think Nicanor and the others would go for this? An alliance with a world of wizards?”
Giliead looked away with a resigned expression. “I’ve given up trying to guess what Nicanor and Visolela will or won’t do. But Halian seems to think so.”
Tremaine frowned, trying to read his expression. “But we think Halian’s an optimist.”
A t first the Rienish guards tried to talk to Ilias, but realizing that was impossible, they fell to talking among themselves. He suspected they would like to ask about what they were guarding; he was just as glad they couldn’t.
He had taken a seat on a wooden bench bolted to the wall and leaned back, stretching his legs out. He was beginning to get used to the feel of being underground, the metal walls, the strange noises and acrid scents in the air, though combined with the roll of a ship at sea it was passing strange. But as tired as he was, he didn’t feel like dozing off. Not with that thing only one wall away, he thought, eyeing the door to Ixion’s prison. One of the guards, studying him thoughtfully and perhaps too accurately reading his expression, went to the glass window to check on the wizard’s sprawled body.
For years Ilias and Giliead had never known what Ixion looked like. The wizard had been too canny to ever face Giliead directly, sending creatures or laying subtle curse traps for him instead. Then the search had led them to a mountain village stalked by a curseling; the instant the survivors had described it they had known it was something Ixion was responsible for. It had fur and claws like an animal, but metal and wooden parts had been
Similar Books
