Unhewn Throne 01 - The Emperor's Blades(199)

“I can have my people in the air in two minutes,” Yurl replied, “but it’s a big world out there, and it’s dark. If he’s changed course to break for these caves, we could spend half the night soaring around the wrong valley.”

Ut glanced at Adiv, and the minister, as though he could feel the other man’s gaze upon him, looked up, tightened the blindfold uneasily, tilted his head to one side, then nodded. “Kaden’s not moving at the moment. If he does, I can tell you roughly what direction he’s headed.”

Yurl raised an eyebrow. “Seeing in the dark’s an impressive trick for a blind man. You want to explain how you know all this?”

“Not especially,” Adiv replied evenly.

“Well, if I’m going to put my Wing at risk by taking them into the air on your say-so, why don’t you just go ahead and try.”

“You’re telling me you’re not comfortable flying after an unarmed band, three exhausted people?”

“One of them’s Skullsworn!”

Adiv waved a hand dismissively. “There are five of you. You are Kettral. You have a bird. Pyrre, Tan, and Kaden have been running for days. If you would have me believe you can’t handle this tiny little chore, I will begin to wonder if we made a mistake involving you at all.”

Yurl twisted away and spat, but the minister had him in a bind. “Once we’re in the air, how does this secret knowledge of yours get to us?”

“Simple,” Adiv replied, gesturing toward the fire. “Two flames means north, three means south, four means east. Just glance back here from time to time—you’ll be able to see this pass from fifty miles out.”

“Fine. Wait here, and I’ll try to clean up your f*cking mess,” he snarled.

Ut turned toward him. The Aedolian had drawn his blade when Triste appeared, and he looked ready to use it now. Adiv, however, stepped between the two.

“If we’re going to discuss messes,” he said, nodding toward where Valyn and his Wing were bound, “it seems you’ve got some cleaning of your own to do.”

Yurl grimaced. “One of my men thinks they could still be useful. We bag Kaden, then they’re dead.”

“In that case,” Adiv replied, “it might behoove you to find the Emperor and kill him. I hate loose ends.”

Yurl turned to gesture to his Wing, but Ut stepped forward. “I’m coming.”

The Wing commander hesitated, then shook his head. “You’ve never been on a bird. You don’t know the first thing about kettral.”

“I’ll learn,” the Aedolian replied.

Yurl turned to Adiv, his hands outspread, but the minister just smiled a dry, serpentine smile. “It appears,” he said, “that you and ‘your people’ are not entirely trusted. Ut will go with you and you will leave—” He scanned the Wing, then pointed a thin finger at Balendin. “—your second-in-command with us.”

“Kettral Wings don’t have a second-in-command,” Yurl snapped.

Adiv shrugged. “Then he won’t be missed.” Yurl started to object, but the minister cut him off with a raised finger. “This is not negotiable. And you are wasting time.”

The young woman, Triste, was trussed up despite her pleas and protestations, then slung to the ground along with Valyn and the rest of his Wing.

“I’ll be back to entertain you later,” Yurl quipped, eyeing her appraisingly. “I like the way you look with that rope around your neck.” He grinned when she didn’t respond, then motioned to his Wing and strode down the western slope into the darkness, toward the birds.

Triste lay in a heap, her dress hitched up around her thighs, whimpering and shuddering until Gwenna shifted to kick her ungently in the head.

“Knock it off,” the demolitions master growled. “It’s enough you just sold out your own Emperor. The least you can do is to quit that f*cking whining.”

Valyn was inclined to agree, but there was something about Triste … that defiance he’d smelled, and now … something like satisfaction. He needed to think. Yurl’s sudden departure had left the Aedolians, the minister, and Balendin to guard him and his Wing. If they were going to make their escape, this was the time to do it, and the last thing he needed was the treacherous girl’s sobs breaking into his thoughts. To his surprise, however, she raised her head, violet eyes blazing with anger rather than fear. She glanced past him, but Balendin and the rest were clustered around a small lantern a dozen paces distant, watching the great dark shape of Yurl’s bird launch itself into the air.