The airship’s forward gun turrets never fired as it descended. The closer it came to the ground, the easier it was for Soren to make out the hull’s colors and its build, the shape of it looking nothing like an E’ridian airship. The Legion’s crest was painted in gold on the thin metal that shielded the underside of the balloon, glinting in the light of the rising sun. He could make out shadowed figures gathered along the railing, several raising their arms in a greeting he was hesitant to return. A rope ladder was thrown over the side, the length of it unfurling to dangle in the air, and then another.
Soren stayed where he was as the airship skimmed over the ground, the bulk of it blocking out the sun. Its engines were loud in the early morning quiet as it brought its broadside parallel to his position, the gun turrets aiming at the horizon and not his position.
“Hail!” a legionnaire called out before they and others pitched themselves over the railing to climb down the rope ladders.
Soren wanted to believe the legionnaires were on Solaria’s side and not Joelle’s or Daijal’s, but he’d been through too much to take anything at face value. He kept his arm extended, calling forth starfire despite the way it made his head hurt worse. The legionnaire coming his way wore the uniform of a captain, and she raised her own arms in a placating manner, pistol left holstered on her hip.
“Prince Alasandair?” the captain asked.
Soren spread his fingers wider, meeting her gaze through the molten glare of starfire. “Who’s asking?”
She drew up sharply, offering him a crisp salute that didn’t budge theeffiyehon her head one bit. “Captain Elise, at your service. Scouts in the poison fields working with wardens caught sight of your passage and sent word to command. We were dispatched to escort you to Oeiras.”
“Not Calhames?”
“The House of Sa’Liandel resides in Oeiras.”
None of the legionnaires on the ground made any move to approach him, keeping their hands loose at their sides as their captain handled him as if he were a spooked animal. Soren really couldn’t blame her. “What month is it?”
“Tenth Month, in the Fortieth Week of the calendar. It’ll be Eleventh Month tomorrow.”
Soren wanted to close his eyes but didn’t. He’d lost so many weeks as Joelle’s prisoner, and he couldn’t begin to know what damage Lore had taken in her forced unconsciousness as well. It was fear for her health that finally got Soren to lower his arm and snuff out the starfire, making a fist to hide how his hand shook from weariness. He licked his lips, meeting Elise’s gaze. “I have Lady Lore in the motor carriage, and she is in desperate need of care.”
“We have a magician on board who is a healer. We’ll take care of her and you.”
Soren nodded slowly, finally stepping away from the motor carriage and letting the legionnaires swarm forward. Elise gestured for him to join her, knowing better than to reach for him. Soren followed where she led, glancing over his shoulder from time to time to see how Lore was being cared for. He followed Elise to the closest rope ladder, squinting up its length at the railing high above them. Gritting his teeth, Soren reached for a rung as Elise held it still, and he climbed up to the safety of the airship.
He was met on board by more crew and a magician who had her wand out and at the ready, tapping the tip against her thigh. She wore the uniform of a legionnaire and approached him the moment his feet hit the deck.
“Prince Alasandair, if you would follow me belowdecks, I have quarters ready for you,” the magician said politely.
“I go by Soren, and I’d rather you tend to Lady Lore first. She’s in desperate need of a healing,” Soren replied.
The magician dipped her head and gestured at his chest. “Apologies, but I must confirm you aren’t arionetka.”
Soren didn’t mind peeling open his shirt, his vest long since lost to him. He desperately needed clean clothes and a bath, but despite the grime, his skin carried no vivisection scars, to the lieutenant’s clear relief. “I was a bargaining chip, and I couldn’t be that if I was dead or arionetka.”
“Can you tell me what happened? Any injuries I should be aware of?”
It was a lot like reporting back to the magicians on the Warden’s Island when he came back from the poison fields over the years, only he kept it very brief, pertinent to their escape. Soren only disclosed what was needed for Lore’s health, still not trusting the crew and Legion around him to share the pertinent details that Vanya would need to hear.
The legionnaires hauled Lore over the railing some minutes later in a medical carry, secured over one man’s back. The magician took that as her cue and focused her attentions on Lore rather than Soren.
Elise stayed beside him, half her attention on her aeronauts, the rest on him. An aeronaut jogged up to them and passed over a canteen to Elise, who handed it to Soren. “You should know we took Bellingham on the emperor’s orders. The House of Kimathi was found dead in their estate. Was it your doing?”
Soren took the canteen and carefully sipped the water, tasting nothing out of the ordinary in it. Then again, if it was poisoned, he’d find out soon enough, but he wanted to believe he was finally safe. “No. There were Blades on the premises. I burned them in order to escape.”
“Ah.” Elise cleared her throat, gaze flicking up and down his body. “Let’s get you settled below.”
Soren nodded tiredly, watching the cluster of people handling Lore’s transport toward the stairs that would lead belowdecks. He was tired, filthy, and hungry, and he knew everything he’d gone through would catch up to him at some point, but for now, he really just wanted to lie down on a bed andsleep.
So that’s what he did.
The flight to Oeiras from where they’d picked him up in the poison fields took hours. Soren slept through the flight and only roused when someone knocked on the door to his temporary room and called out that they were anchoring. Soren rolled to his side and sat up on the bunk, hunching carefully so he wouldn’t hit his head on the underside of the one above. He knew better than to walk around during a descent and landing, so stayed put until the hard judder of the hull meeting the anchor berth vibrated through the airship for a moment.
Part of Soren didn’t believe he’d made it until he stood on the decking, staring at the intact city walls surrounding Oeiras, the breeze bringing with it the familiar scent of the jungle that grew to the west of them.
The pier was crowded below withpraetorialegionnaires and officials, but Soren didn’t see Vanya anywhere. He tried not to be disappointed, even if he couldn’t quite stop the worry that settled in his heart.
