Chapter 36 - Free Bird

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Gerald
* * *

Dragging the Peacock King out of his cell is difficult. It's especially difficult considering that Patrick, while helpful, isn't very tall. If he's as old as he seems to think (and indeed, Cade may have plagued the Radian forces for centuries), then I suppose the height makes sense. People do get taller with time, over the generations. Except Daddy - he's always been tall. But then, he's not really regular people.

This is a bit awkward, is what I'm getting at. Lyric comes to the King's side and bundles up all of that hair so that it's not dragging the ground. I do have to admit that it helps us not trip nearly so much, but something tells me Lyric's motivation was to keep the mane from being further damaged by our escape attempt. That boy... that boy looks nervous.

"Why so jumpy?" I grunt. Lyric and Patrick's heads lift in the same instant. Hm, they're almost the same height. I wonder about that for a moment, then discard it. "Lyric, I meant. I can gather why Patrick is so jumpy."

Lyric fidgets a little more before answering. "I... I'm a bit worried about getting into trouble for this. That won't stop me, but..." He bites his lip. "Gerude thinks I'm a criminal. Jhe Erynn's Poetry said I was a traitor."

I cock my head at him, looking with my Poetry, then with my Aim. There is something about him, but it's not really that he's a criminal. He looks like he has a long future, is all. A... well, a difficult future. Sometimes I hate Poetry, because it certainly doesn't always give us the easy answers we want to give people. "No, you're not a criminal. You've just got a long road ahead of you. Why worry about it? You've been through the toughest of it already, I'm sure."

Except that sounds like a lie, and I know Lyric can tell.

Faun lays his hand on Lyric's arm. "You have my protection. The Law will not cut you down for what you do now. Please, let's hurry." He looks towards me. "Jhe Gerald, how do you plan to leave this place?"

I think over my answer for a few moments. "I'm not entirely sure how to get to it, but I'm pretty sure what we'll use to get out of the Palace Complex and on towards your forest."

After that... well, some discussion ensues.

* * *

"You're very lucky." Patrick's eyes twinkle with a joy that's not quite mischief but not quite innocent. "I'm very practiced with them. And our combined weight shouldn't trouble the beastie too much."

That is a relief. No... no, it really isn't. It means this thing we're about to do will actually work, and I sort of didn't want it to. "Well then, can you get it close enough that we can load it up before anyone gets an inkling of just how stupid what we're about to do is?"

"Can't guarantee that at all, but I can get her over here with time enough to load her up before they can stop us." He grins. It's strangely convincing, possibly because the grin betrays just what sort of crazy Patrick is. He's our sort of crazy.

Very reassuring.

* * *
Patrick
* * *

It's odd how nobody notices me. There are a few people about, yes - but they don't really pay me much heed. It's strange, because I certainly feel here now in a way that Cade never seemed to be anywhere. I can feel the air around me, feel the world sort of... breathing. I'm definitely in it, I suppose.

And I can sense things, things that I didn't sense before. Or rather, it's like something I've tasted before but now the taste is so much purer, so much sweeter... like what I'm sensing is fuller, now. I can't even describe what it is, really - I'm afraid to follow the thought too much. I'm afraid to compare to my ancient past, and terrified of poking about and mentally brushing up against the Beast.

So I'm trying not to think about these things too much, but I'm still noticing that, well, nobody's looking at me as I cross the Courtyard, and the people around here that would usually note my being there quickly vacate. It's as if the time is right. Luck. Good luck, which is something I am not used to.

I pet the bird. She's a pretty one, she is. A big hen of a Windbird, one of the largest ones I've seen. Her feathers are stiff and glossy and strong. She coos at me as I stroke my thumb along the hollow under her eye her facebones make. Windbirds are sensitive in that spot. She clucks a little, rustles her feathers - it's like hearing a stiff wind through a forest. Then she settles.

They've got a bit of a paddock for her here - obviously a bit of a rush job but sturdy. I guide her out of it, slowly. I don't think about getting caught. People like me don't get caught. That's an odd thought to come into the head of a man who just went through a Trial, but it's no less true. I won't get caught. Surely. This fine bird will just follow me to the Courtyard entrance, where the Armed and the Peacock King's retainer and the Animism wait with the King himself. And I'd dwell on that, dwell on our odd little band being together in these circumstances after all that's happened, but I'm quickly learning that I don't fancy dwelling at all. Better to just let this all happen. Surely it'll all turn out right.

When's the last time I felt so positive about things? Now there's a question I can't answer.

We're at the entrance, the bird and I, and loading up the King onto her back when I hear a voice I recognize very faintly. Strange, Cade seemed to be so good at purposefully forgetting things - here I am remembering everything he ever could have forgotten. Who is that? Avian that worked for me once, that's right. Strange. What's he doing here? And why's he saying:

"Hey now, that bird's just now settling in, you can't go and play with her at a whim!"

Djardrik? That was his name, all right. What's he doing here?

Wait... this means I'm getting caught. A strong fiber of my being rails against the mere possibility of that, but I can't deny--

"Hey! Jhe Gerald? Can you tell Jhe New Guy to not--" Another Armed. I look behind me. Some man with a face that's half-Avian. They're rushing across the Courtyard towards us.

I'm pretty sure they're attracting some attention.

* * *
Gerald
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Oh damn it all, Patrick was doing so well, and we almost had the King all loaded up... and now we're getting caught? My stomach sinks straight to my feet, resting cozily between my ankles. Of course, I've not had the best track record when it comes to sneaking around... but that's why I sent Patrick out!

Damn it all!

Faun's face pinches as he sees the two approach. The shenanigans on his shoulders perk their ears up as they hear rapid footsteps. Lyric looks as pale as the Peacock King's white makeup. He's so horrified. I pick up the tiniest thought from him--

--can't get caught don't want to go through my family hating me--

And then there's the much more prominent intruding thought of

Gerald what under the sky is going on in the Courtyard, I'm too busy to deal with a ruckus right now!

which means Father's finally taken notice. And I realize.

Now is the time to take flight. Now, or never. The Peacock King's done being tied on after a couple of cinches and a knot. I haul my brother and Patrick up onto the bird and get the best grip on the ropes that I can. I focus as hard as I can on the fact that we'll manage to get off the ground, even with how much this load must weigh.

Patrick takes the reins. Faun disappears in a whirlwind of dust. The windbird's wings beat. Kevrin and his Avian friend backpedal.

We rise.

* * *
'Sy
* * *

Something is wrong. And even though I'm elbow-deep in distractions and problems, I'm going to see to it right now. Alarm is spiking up in the back of my mind all of a sudden, and I know that whatever is going on, it involves some of my children, immense danger, and a flagrant breach of the Law. I haven't felt this dismayed ahead of time since the youngest of my children was six.

(She really didn't mean to cause that war. Really a minor skirmish, when it's looked at in context. But that's another story.)

Kevrin's certainly concerned too. Something about a bird? His bird? What, is there something wrong with Djardrik too now? I shove past the Armed I'm discussing things with, causing Camden to let out a surprised grunt. Too crowded. If I can just get out of this room I can see through one of the walkway windows into the Courtyard?

"Excuse me?" The person sounds confused as I elbow them aside, but not offended. My Armed are used to abrupt behavior these days, so that could explain it.

"There's no time! Later!" I don't quite mean to bark at him, but this is urgent. So very, very urgent. If I don't get out there now--

"Jhe Tesynnodai h'Akribastes, I ask for, at the very least, the small charity of an explanation!" Still no annoyance to his tone, no outrage. But I recognize the voice now, and of course, he never does react that way. Always so annoyingly affable and polite... like a Poet King I know.

...Wait.

I whirl around, facing him. No. I tell myself it can't be, and then Diyn tsks at me for lying.

He stands there, shoulders back, chest out, only a bit shorter than me, really. Straight reddish blonde hair cut to his shoulders, a neatly-cut straight beard that frames his chin to a point, white Chetharian robes, black boots properly shined after obvious wear from his military duties. I feel the automatic surge of fire (that could be hatred or could be mere competitive fury) at the exact same time that I have the urge to adopt him into the ranks and then whip his ass into shape. These are all the ways that I know.

Mitheoni. The Gahalespbar-archo. Commander of the High Army and the Law of Chethar.

He smiles at me. He pats my shoulder. "Can I help?" Of course. He's always like that. Like some wandering, overgrown, awkward puppy.

But it's too late to help now. With him distracting me, the moment has passed, and whatever I was trying to stop... "It's already happened." There's a weary, stone-heavy sigh in my words. Diyn materializes in my hand, possibly just for the support. No, no - he just wants to be as close as possible when I'm suffering through Mitheoni's presence.

He raises one red-blonde eyebrow. "What's already happened?" There's not just confusion and concern in those pupil-less sea-blue eyes - suspicion rests there, faint and uneasy.

I roll my eyes and shove my way to a window. Huge wings beat the air, each downstroke a WHAP that is quite loud, but is already fading. The windbird Kevrin managed to bring home with him has taken flight. And it is bearing riders.

My eyes widen. I can't think of what I can do to stop them. I can only wonder--

Why Lyric?!

as I see two of my sons depart with Jhe o'Audiva Rocale... and is that Patrick as well? What's he doing out of his cell? What, for that matter, is Ebreillin-i doing out of his cell?

I'm about to demand an explanation from Gerald when Diyn stops me.

Don't. He seems neither alarmed nor surprised. But then, shouldn't he have alerted me about Ebrellin-i leaving his cell in the first place? I have no such duty- the man is still bound by me. I almost hear a smirk in the metal glint of his voice. It wouldn't have done for you to try to stop them then, and have the Gahalespbar-archo enter your Hall in the middle of it. You were too busy to sense his approach - so I dealt with things as best as I could for you. If Gerald cannot take care of the problem, then we will intercede.

I make a mental nod. Everything's in order, then. I don't even have to worry about Katherine endangering herself by visiting her jailed nitwit of a Father anymore. I just have to take care of the mess that's been created in the Hall.

And it's time to not have Mitheoni notice just what's going on... not right now. If he wants to help, he can help with some other thing. I sigh in relief. "Is that all that was? I didn't know they'd be seeing him off so early."

"Was that Jhe o'Audiva Rocale?" Mitheoni's been watching from over my shoulder. "Was he tied up?" His voice betrays more confusion than suspicion now.

"He needed to be secured to the thing - he might have fallen off." I turn from the window. "I didn't hear of your ship arriving."

Mitheoni turns from the window as well. He looks a bit more serious now - I suppose I'll start to hear just why he is here. "Ah. Yes. I'm sorry we didn't announce ourselves - there's been some troubles with communication between your side and ours." He tracks my face very closely for my reaction to that. Interesting.

I nod. "So we have been discovering oh so recently. Measures are being taken to correct it."

He takes that in, nodding slowly. "We were also confused, I must say, regarding the Chetharian galleon that was already in your port when we arrived." Ahh, this explains the look. I don't blame him for the scrutiny, now. Well, how best to turn this to everyone's advantage, and get on with what needs to be seen to properly?

"Yes. That would be a matter that turned up earlier today." I grin. "Would you like to meet the captain of it?"