Can it be counted as rebellion when there is nothing to rebel against beyond a memory?
THE CITY OF DRIFT 1399 MILES NORTH OF THE ROIL
It was never going to be as easy as they hoped, but even Margaret was surprised when thirty men and women at least, all armed, walked from behind the Dawn.
At their lead was the man Margaret had thumped yesterday evening; to their rear stood Cam, her arms tied. There was a bruise across her jaw, her shirt bloody, though Margaret couldn't tell if it was her own blood. Her eyes caught Margaret's, her lips curved just a little. She may have even winked. Margaret reached for her rime blade, and Cam shook her head.
“So you're part of this, too, William?” Kara said.
The man at the lead glowered, though he kept it courteous. It was easy with that many guns behind. “If you could lower your weapons,” William said.
“I’m sorry,” Mother Graine said, sounding anything but as she shook herself free of Kara's grip. The pilot let her go, as though there was no point in holding her. Margaret couldn't help but feel angry at that. If it were her, she'd be pressing the Verger's knife hard against the Mother's throat. Mother Graine said, “Things were never going to be that easy for you. This is my city.”
“You don’t think that David won't kill them all,” Margaret said.
“If David was so minded, yes, he might. But not before they killed the rest of you.”
“And what if I kill you now?” She reached for the knife at her belt.
Mother Graine shrugged. “I’m not important anymore. And everything that must be done can be done without me. One person is ultimately insignificant.” Her gaze was firmly on David. Margaret desperately wanted to show her just how significant she was, but Mother Graine was scarcely paying attention to her.
David cleared his throat. “I’d rather not die now. But if it comes to that, well, then I’ll die on my own terms.”
Mother Graine laughed. “Oh, David. Nothing is ever done on your terms. You will be carried from one disaster to the next. You will see your friends die, and even your success will be failure. Believe me, my little bird, I’m sparing you so much.” She turned to Kara. “Kara, my dear, I know you understand. Please get me Margaret’s weapons.”
Margaret tensed, but Kara folded her arms. “Run for the Dawn,” she said, and whistled once, short and sharp.
Mother Graine frowned. “You-”
And the Dawn was an explosion of limbs. In a single whip-crack, every soldier was knocked from their feet, and Cam with them. The pilot scrambled to get upright, only to be knocked down again, men grabbing her arms, dragging her towards the door, beyond the Dawn 's considerable reach.
Kara was already running. She swung her head round, eyes blazing. “I said, run!”
And run they did.
“David!” Mother Graine screamed. “You know that this is wrong.”
If David heard her he didn't register it, just kept running. Kara had stopped at the doorifice to the Dawn. It opened for David, and he dived neatly through.
William was already scrambling to his feet. Margaret knocked him back down as she passed, snatching his weapon.
Another guard ran at her, and Margaret struck her hard in the head. David peered through the doorifice at her, his face confused.
“What are you doing?” Kara demanded.
“Cam,” Margaret said. “We need to get Cam.”
But Cam was already being dragged from the hangar, away from the Dawn. A limb hurtled overhead, knocked another pilot down.
Kara looked at Margaret, and something resolute and severe passed across her face, an edge of hardness. “No, we don’t have time. We can't, we leave now. We'll not have another chance.”
Margaret pushed her away.
“Look,” Kara said. “David needs you. Cam won't be hurt. Believe me. But if we don’t leave now, hell, we’re probably going to be thrown into gaol with her anyway. Besides, Cam's never going to leave without her Aerokin. Trust me, between you and her, she'll choose the Meredith Reneged every time.”
Margaret hesitated a moment more, before running back towards the Dawn.
“We need to hurry,” Margaret said, and Kara smiled.
The Dawn 's limbs struck out and out. Engines fired, even as they passed through the doorifice.
“They got Cam,” Margaret said to him.
David nodded. “She'll be all right. What use is it for Mother Graine to hurt her?”
“Mother Graine was ready to kill you,” Margaret said.
“She'll be all right. You can't do anything about it now. None of us can. I'm sorry, but that's just the way it is,” David said, though he looked about as happy as she felt.
The Roslyn Dawn rose gracefully from the hangar, and not a shot was fired, until she was almost free and in the open air. The shot went wide. The Dawn fired a burst of shot in response, and every soldier within the hangar dropped to the floor.
Cam was already gone.
“They won't hurt her,” Kara Jade said. “Believe me. We don’t harm our own much.”
The Dawn hit the air, bio-engines roaring, the northern wind a sudden beating presence. Margaret could feel the Aerokin working against it.
“There’s no one to catch us,” Kara Jade said. “You’ve the fastest Aerokin and the finest pilot on your side. They'd sooner catch the wind than me.”
Margaret looked around the familiar space of the Aerokin's gondola. Leaning by the doorifice was her endothermic weaponry. Cam had gotten that much done before they'd caught her. Margaret picked up the bag, scanned its contents, the familiar weapons: swords and rifles that had saved her life so many times.
She found no comfort in them now, just carried them to her bunk at the rear of the Aerokin. She walked back to the doorifice. It opened at her approach, and the slightly cloying, slightly musty smell of the Aerokin faded.
Drift was already a way behind them. No Aerokin had followed, instead they had gathered in the airspace over the Caress.
“They know it's pointless following me,” Kara said from behind her.
“This was too easy,” Margaret said. “All of it was too easy.”
“What are you saying?” Kara rested a hand on her back. This close to the open doorifice, a single push from Kara would be enough to send her falling.
Margaret turned. “Are you part of this, too?”
Kara's face stiffened. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Was all this just some elaborate scheme, a test to see how determined David was to succeed?”
“You’re seeing wheels within wheels,” Kara said. “And none of them make sense.”
Margaret flashed her teeth. “So you weren’t in on it, then. You’re as much a dupe as David. Question is, did you pass or fail the test Mother Graine had set for you?”
Kara frowned. “Look, we made it to the Dawn, and she’s the fastest Aerokin to ever live. No one, not even my sister, could catch us here. I see what you’re suggesting, but as a test, it’s far too complicated.”
“I don’t think so; they needed to see that David — that we were all capable of doing this. I’ve no doubt that if we had failed we’d all be dead by now.”
“Think that way, if you must. And I won’t argue. In fact, I’d prefer it to be that way.”
“Manipulated?” Kara asked.
“We’re all of us manipulated, but if what you think is true then it means there’s a chance for I and the Dawn. We might still be able to return.”
“I think you’re right,” David said from behind them. “I think Mother Graine only showed us that room so I would know that she could have kept me in a place you would never have found me. That room, it did things to me. Weakened me, and the longer I’d have stayed there the worse it would have gotten. There’s no way I could have escaped from it. But here we are in the sky again.”
“They won't follow us,” Margaret said. “We've jumped through her hoops, and ran her maze.”
Kara shook her head. “She is the last survivor of her kind. The Mothers of the Sky have always ruled us. Now there is only one. Something beyond terrible has happened, and we are fleeing it.”
“We’ll make it better,” David said.
Kara laughed. “Do you really believe that? I mean, look at you both, Mr and Mrs Grim. Him with his cold hands. And you with those cold eyes. I could drown in the doubt and sadness in this cockpit.”
“And you’re doing a wonderful job of lightening our hearts,” Margaret said.
“I’m not here to lighten your bloody hearts. I’m here to get you north, like I promised I would. And I damn well will.”
“And that’s all you need to focus on,” Margaret said.
David glared at her, then shook his head.
Kara laughed. “It’s going to be such a fun trip.”
She jabbed a finger at David. “You, cold boy. Get me my rum. We’ve hours of flying to do, and I’m itching to get drunk.”
“Is it ready?” the eldest asked, peering at the peculiar contraption.
The second Old Man nodded.
“Will it work?”
“It will work,” the Old Man said. “It need only make one journey.” He lifted the machine in his hands, bound it to his body, and let them lead him to the great doors of the airship. Two of his brothers pulled the doors open, and he turned to the eldest one last time. “I will be swift.”
“And we will follow,” the eldest Old Man said, gesturing for him to go.
The Old Man stepped into the sky. The mechanism bound to him shuddered. It roared. And he did not fall.