Mercadian Masques

"Gerrard will lead me straight to the crystals I need, and I will destroy him in the process."

Squee led his companions on a ridiculously jogging path. The pounding rain and lightning flashes made Mercadia's mad maze only madder still. Ha

"Dis here street is Dat-Dere-Street," Squee a

Gerrard and his comrades arrived at the dumping station where Squee and Atalla had fooled the giants. In the pelting storm, there were no giants or wagons, only the yawning blackness of a nearly two-mile drop to the storm-lit plains below.

Reunited again for the rescue, the company would soon be sundered. Ha

Parting was no easy thing, especially for the commander and the navigator.

"Listen," Ha

His smile glinted with lightning. He stroked a sodden lock of hair back from her face. "Don't I always?" Glancing over the precipice, he said, "If I survive the next few minutes, I can survive anything." He lifted his arms. The cape of a ChoArrim skyscout draped, dripping, from wrists to ankles. "Orim, are you sure these things are safe?"

"Safe enough," Orim replied, sheltered in Cho-Ma

Gerrard gave a flap of the wings. "I'm not sure I'll even breathe on the way down."

Tahngarth stood nearby, snorting white plumes of irritation in the air. "I'm no squirrel." He stared down at his own cloak-two skyscout capes sewn together.

With a light laugh, a similarly winged Sisay recited, "Birdie, birdie in the sky, what just dropped down in my eye? I'm sure glad that cows don't fly!"

"I'm not a squirrel or a cow," Tahngarth growled. If anyone but his captain had made the remark, there would have been a brawl.

Cho-Ma

"Yes," Gerrard replied. Leaning forward, he kissed Ha

"I will."

"And we'll make sure the revolution is ready," Orim pledged.

"Good," Gerrard said. He cast a glance toward Sisay, shrugged, and said, "Well, here goes."

Taking a deep breath and spreading his arms, Gerrard did a swan dive off the edge of Mount Mercadia.

The ridge of solid ground disappeared beneath him. He plunged toward the blackness beyond. Spreading arms and legs, he felt the skyscout cloak snap outward. Air filled the garment. Insistent cloth yanked on wrists and ankles. Gerrard's back hyperextended. Gritting his teeth, he brought arms and legs to full extension and entered a steady glide.

Rain pelted down. Winds roared up. The black plains swayed nauseatingly as they stretched away toward the hills.

A sharp crack came nearby. Gerrard glanced over to see Sisay hanging there on the wind, like a spider drifting down on a thread too gossamer to see. To the other side came a sound like a shot. It was followed by a long roar in concert with the winds. Tahngarth was taking the descent less well than his mates. Six other crew drifted downward in a tenuous flock.

Gerrard smiled grimly. The sooner they were on the ground, the better. He dipped his arms and banked toward the marketplace below. There, under cover of dark, they would "requisition" Jhovalls and supplies. Before daybreak, they would charge out of the city, on the way to Ouramos.

The other gliders followed. They crossed above the vast, putrid circle of the garbage wall. Beneath the sheltering edge of the inverted mountain, the rain ceased. Still, mists followed them-the conjurations of Cho-Ma

Selecting a likely corral of Jhovalls, Gerrard soared down. What seemed at first to be only specks of white pepper slowly swelled upward to scraps of paper and then to large tents. Gerrard brought his team down among them, near the corral.

He tried to land upright, but the ground stole his feet, and he rolled in the dirt. A fence post of the corral caught him short. Fouled in his cloak, muddy, and somewhat bruised, Gerrard staggered up and turned to see his crew land.

Sisay soared up beside him, flung her cloak out to catch one last hold on the air, and landed easily on her feet. Tahngarth came to ground like a great black comet. He flopped facefirst, his horns digging twin furrows in the dirt. Chamas, Tallakaster, Fewsteem, Dabis, and ilcaster arrived less gracefully than Sisay-but less catastrophically than Tahngarth.

Last of all alighted a thin, strong figure, who folded the cloak behind her as though she were used to having wings. "Sorry I'm late. Squee sent word you'd arrived and told me what you were up to. I figured you could use another fighter."

Gerrard only shook his head in disbelief. "Takara…"

Book III

Chapter 17

In the dark before dawn, a caravan moved slowly away from Mercadia, through circling walls of stone and garbage. Gerrard and his companions trailed in its wake. Here in the shadow of the mountain, the ground was dry enough to produce dust, which masked the rebels and their stolen Jhovalls.

The corral Gerrard had landed next to had turned out to belong to the city guard. He had "borrowed" several mounts from the stables. It seemed poetic justice. The guard was in such disarray they were unlikely to miss the Jhovalls until it was far too late to do anything about the theft. "They should have learned from my training," Gerrard told himself dryly, spitting dust from his teeth. It was not the first or last time he would spit on that long, dusty journey.

Despite the inevitable grit, Weatherlight's crew members rode with a glad ease. For Gerrard and Tahngarth, the journey meant freedom after long incarceration. For Sisay, it was a chance to negotiate with sword instead of word. For Dabis, Tallakaster, Fewsteem, Chamas, and Ilcaster, the smell of clean dirt was welcome after months in the perfumed fetor of Mercadia. All were glad to be riding-and soon, fightingtogether. It was like old times.

Only Takara rode apart. Since her mysterious arrival, she had hung back in the pack, lending aid where it was required but offering little comment. Perhaps she sensed the crew's growing distrust of her. Perhaps she knew that Gerrard no longer welcomed her advice. The others left the fiery Rathi alone. By the dawn of the second day, her reticence was begi

In the dusty morning, Gerrard's curiosity at last awakened. He let his Jhovall fall back among the other steeds until he came even with Takara. Keeping his eyes trained on the road ahead, Gerrard said, "You've been pretty quiet on this trip."

Takara's mount stalked easily forward. "Yes."

"Is something bothering you?" Gerrard pressed. "You seemed happy enough to join us."