"Are you foraging for materials still?"
He shook his head and ran one gnarled hand through his windblown hair. "No, we're done. It's up to Black Beard and the others to make it all work now."
She gestured him over. "Sit down. Talk with me. I'm sick of talking with myself."
She made room for him on the bench, swinging her legs off and placing her feet carefully on the decking. She winced in spite of herself at the pain the effort brought on.
The sharp eyes darted toward her. "Still a little tender, I guess." "Do all Wing Riders possess such acute powers of observation?" He chuckled softly. "Feelings seem a little tender, too." She didn't say anything for a moment, looking down at her legs, her boots, the decking. Time passed. She felt a great void in her heart, a place opening up where opportunity slipped away while she sat doing nothing.
She lifted her eyes to meet his. "How long has it been since we left them? More than a week anyway, isn't it? Too long, Wing Rider. Way too long."
He nodded, his brow furrowing. He started to say something, then stopped, as if deciding that anything he had to say was unnecessary. He clasped his hands about one knee and rocked back slightly in his cloak, grizzled head shaking.
"You can't favor this delay any more than I do," she said. "You must want to do something about it, too."
He nodded. "I've been considering it."
"If we could just find out if they are all right, if they would be safe enough until the ship could reach them . . ."
She didn't finish, waiting on him to do so for her. He looked off into the distance instead, as if trying to spy them through the mist and cold. Then he nodded once more. "I could take a look for them. I could leave now, in fact. Should leave now, because once the storm comes in, it won't be so easy to fly out."
She leaned forward eagerly, red hair fanning out about her shoulders. "I have the coordinates Big Red mapped out from our journey in. We won't have any trouble following them back."
He looked at her in surprise. "We?"
"I'm going with you."
He shook his head. "Your brother won't let you go and you know it. He'll put a stop to it before you finish telling him what you intend."
She gave it a moment, then reached up with one finger and touched her temple. "Think about what you just said, Hunter Predd," she advised softly. "When was the last time my brother told me what to do, would you guess?"
He smiled in rueful understanding. "Well, he won't like it, anyway."
She smiled back. "It won't be the first time he's had to deal with this sort of disappointment. Nor the last, I'd wager."
"You and me?" he asked, arching one eyebrow.
"You and me."
"I won't ask if you're up to it."
"Best not."
"I won't ask what you intend once we get there either, even though I'd be willing to bet it goes beyond a quick flyover."
She nodded without answering.
He sighed deeply. "It will feel good to be back in the air, good to be doing what we were trained to do, Obsidian and me." He rubbed his callused hands together. "We'll leave Po Kelles and Niciannon to run whatever errands your brother and the others need until they catch up to us. Maybe our leaving will inspire them to work faster on the repairs."
"Maybe. My brother hates to miss out on anything. Going inland for a look around was his idea in the first place."
"And now you've stolen it." He shook his head, smiled ruefully. "How soon can you be ready?"
She rose gingerly and unwrapped herself from the blanket. Underneath, throwing knives were strapped in place about her waist.
She cocked an eyebrow at him. "How soon can you saddle your bird?"
EIGHTEEN