Aphen nodded. “But what do you want in return for this? You. personally?”
“You don’t think a promise that you will do what you can to save the entire world is enough for me?” Edinja snorted derisively. “All right. When this is over, maybe you might consider making a visit so we can talk face-to-face, perhaps find common ground. I am not Drust Chazhul. I am not seeking to destroy the Druid order or gain power over the other Races. I am looking for a way to build the sorts of bridges that Drust Chazhul could never have envisioned on the best day of his life. That will be satisfaction enough for me.”
A momentary silence followed. “All right,” Aphen agreed. “Show us the aircraft we will be flying, and we’ll be on our way.”
Aphenglow Elessedil did not for one solitary second believe that Edinja Orle was telling her the truth. At least, not all of it. Enough to convince the Elves that she had their best interests at heart, maybe, but not enough to give away her real plan, whatever it was. The problem was, she could not divine what was behind the sorceress’s willingness to help them, and she could not afford to refuse that help when it was exactly what they needed. Too much was at stake not to accept the offer of an airship that would give them swift transportation back to the Westland where they could resume their search for the missing Ellcrys seed.
So with Arling and Cymrian in tow, she followed the Federation Prime Minister out of the shop and back through the city streets toward the grounds and buildings where the Coalition Council kept its quarters. Cinla disappeared shortly after they set out and did not reappear. They encountered only one blockade and a handful of soldiers on their way. The city streets were mostly empty.
“We bypass most of the barricades and soldiers going this way,” Edinja declared at one point. “No sense involving them. They’ll have questions, and I don’t want to have to provide them with answers. This matter is between us.”
In short order they reached the housing and administration buildings set aside for the needs of the members of the Coalition Council, but Edinja kept going. Down a side street and behind the official grounds, she led them into the cavernous interior of a warehouse-sized building where a pair of sleek Sprints sat side by side on a landing pad. They were big machines, each able to carry five or six, their design unfamiliar to either Aphen or Cymrian.
“This should convince you I am serious,” she said. “These are prototypes. No one has them but myself and the military high command. They are a carefully guarded secret, and no one outside a handful of Southlanders has seen them. You will be the first. Have a look.”
Cymrian gave the nearest vessel a quick once-over, walking around it, examining its parse tubes and hoods, radian draws, and light sheaths, which were folded up on deck and ready to be hoisted. Then he climbed into the pilot box and examined the control mechanisms. Finally, he roamed the gunwales studying the weapons attached to the railings on both sides.
“She’s beautiful,” he announced when he was done. “I have trouble believing you are prepared to give her to us.”
“I’m not giving her to you; I am loaning her.” Edinja’s eyes were fixed on Aphenglow. “I want her back when this is over.”
Aphen nodded. “Fair enough.” She paused. “How long do you think the army can hold out against this attack?”
Edinja shrugged. “Maybe three more days.”
“Have you sent for help?”
“The other cities need to look out for themselves.”
“From the Borderlands, then?”
The Federation Prime Minister looked away. “You should get under way. It is possible the demons know the bearer of the Ellcrys seed is inside these walls. It might even explain the reason for their attacking us.”
She walked away from them, her robes wrapped tightly around her small frame, her head up. She moved over to a wall where a huge wheel worked a series of pulleys. When she began turning the wheel, the roof slid open to reveal a sky filling rapidly with clouds.
“Climb aboard,” Cymrian called down to the sisters. “Let’s do what she says.”
Aphen helped Arling aboard, and they settled themselves into deep cushioned seats set to one side of the open cockpit. Restraining straps were provided, and they buckled themselves in. Cymrian took charge of the controls, powered up the aircraft, and engaged the thrusters.
Aphen glanced over one last time at Edinja Orle, but she was looking down and didn’t seem to notice.
Seconds later they were airborne. Rising through the open roof into the deepening gray of the late-afternoon sky, they encountered the stink of burned oil and flesh borne on the wind. Then, abruptly, it began to rain, and Cymrian swung the nose of their craft west, pushed the thrusters forward, and left Arishaig behind.