Not everyone would be disembarking; he had convinced the Winds to use the moons as their baggage camp. In moments he would return there as well, ostensibly to give his authority to orders coming from the Winds. In reality, he had kept his most trusted men aboard the moons, and had also set up a clandestine semaphore system. He would be relaying the commands of the swans through the medium of the basts—giving his official words to their directives—but he would also be sending commands directly to his men through the semaphore.

It was windy here in the foothills. The moons were depositing the army here partly because the air was so treacherous nearer the Gates. Of course, a two-kilometer sphere made its own weather to a degree, and a dozen of them were an entire weather system; the White Wind had confided in him that this just made things worse, because weather was inherently unpredictable. The skins of the moons rippled under sudden gusts, and lightning played around their crowns almost continuously. They electrified the air and then pulled it around themselves with invisible fins, the bast had said. With so many of them all together, their electric fields interfered. Add steep mountain peaks into the equation and things became frankly dangerous.

He was counting on that.

A bast stepped up to him. It wasn't the White Wind—that one was away investigating the burning thing that had landed. "We have found them," said the bast. "They are making for the monastery, as we suspected. Your men will take the trails directly there and capture them. We will accompany you."

"They're going to get there first," he said. "And that place is highly defensible. Why don't the swans go in and get them?"

"Not an option," said the bast. "You will go."

Lavin shrugged. "I guess you're right. The desals would cut the swans to pieces."

The bast bridled. "You will not question our orders."

"I will where it concerns my men. Listen, we are too far back here for me to command them. We need to get this moon over the valley—or better yet, over the peaks themselves. We could lower a battalion using the Heaven hooks, come on them from above. They have no way to defend against that."

The bast bared its teeth. "You are saying you will fail to take the monastery from below?"

"We won't fail. It could take weeks, months, even. You could keep us supplied that long, but—"

"Unacceptable. This abomination is too dangerous. We must destroy it now."

"So why don't you use nature itself, like you did against Armiger's army in Ravenon? Send in all the animals, uproot the plants."

The bast's tail twitched. "We have tried. They will not respond. Permanence is controlling this valley. We do not have enough morphs to convert these life forms. That is why you must go in."

"Then we have to go in from above," he said. "There is no other way."

The bast turned away. Then it said, "I will ask the swans."

Yes, bring us in close, Lavin thought as he watched it walk away. Get us high, and close together in the mountains. Then we'll learn if you can fly.

42

For a moment Axel Chan was content to just smell the air. He stood on the ship's ramp with his eyes closed, letting the breeze stroke his hair like the hand of a lover. His ears popped. He was back on Ventus, and he needed no more reminder of why he'd come than this scent of pine and loam.

The navy had given them this cutter in order to let Marya do a reconnaissance of the maelstrom of swan activity building over these mountains. The Archipelagic forces had originally wanted the Voice to lend her recognition codes to a destroyer-class ship, but the AI had insisted that they come in this small craft, without an escort. That way they could attempt to locate Calandria—a part of their plan they had not mentioned to the admiral.

Even a close orbit had not told them what was going on down here—but Calandria's transponder signal had pinged faintly from the very heart of the energy storm. When they picked up her signal, the three had exchanged uneasy glances in the cockpit. To descend into the vortex could be wildly dangerous—but if anyone on the ground might know what was truly happening, it would be Calandria May.

"Hey, move!" Marya gave Axel a small shove from behind. He sighed, and jogged down the rest of the ramp to finally stand on the soil of Ventus again. Marya came to poise beside him, and after a moment the Voice joined them. The AI's striking resemblance to Calandria May still disturbed Axel, but the Voice was obviously a different person: she stared around herself with the wide-eyed wonder of someone who had never set foot on a planet before.

"You've been here," he chided. "You dropped us off last summer, remember?"

She shook her head. "I had a different body than. To be this small and vulnerable in this environment... it's indescribable."

Both humans smiled at her. Then Marya pointed at the twin mountains rising above them. "Look! There's buildings way up there, on the side."

"Gods." Axel's mind boggled at the amount of labour it must have taken to put those structures up there. "Maybe that's where she is."

He hoped she was nearby, and not on the other side of those mountains. The ocean lay there; Axel had seen it as they came in. He had also seen strange waterfalls that vanished into shafts in the far side of the two peaks, as well as what looked like gigantic pipes shimmering under the surface of the ocean. There were a few towns around here, but no major cities within a day's travel of this place. He had no idea what Calandria might be doing out here.

He closed his eyes and concentrated. He felt the signal—but it wasn't coming from the mountains. "She's in the valley," he said. "A kilometer or two at most that way. Seems to be moving in this direction, fast."

"Should we wait, or go out to meet them?" asked Marya.

"Ka," somebody said.

A shadow whipped past and Axel and Marya ducked. The Voice turned, blinking in astonishment at the large hawk that swept in a circle around the perimeter of the clearing where they'd set down, then returned. It landed on a moss-cushioned log not three meters away, and folded its wings.

"Beautiful," whispered Marya. "Ka," said the hawk. "So you found a way off world, Axel."

"Uhn," said Axel. A bird was talking to him.

"It's me, Jordan," said the hawk. "Can you hear me?"

"Jordan?" He peered at the hawk. "How are you doing this?"

"My servant hitched a ride on this hawk. He's talking to you for me. I haven't changed myself into a hawk, if that's what you're thinking."

"No, of course not." Axel sidled closer to the hawk, looking for a speaker or antenna somewhere on it. "You seem to have come up in the world, Jordan."

"You could say that." Jordan Mason's voice held a wry tone Axel had never heard the boy use before. "Hello, Lady May."

Axel looked over his shoulder. "Oh. That's not Calandria. I know it looks like her. It's... rather hard to explain."

"Not Calandria? Where is she?"

"She's not with you?"

"No." The bird fell to calmly grooming its wing, seemingly indifferent to the human voice issuing from its body. "Listen," said Jordan, "if that's all of you, you've got to get moving. Come meet me and I'll explain everything."

"You know what's going on here?" asked Marya.

"Yes. Are you a friend of Axel's?"

"Yes. I've heard a lot about you, Jordan. I'm very pleased to meet you."

"Well, we haven't met yet, and we won't if you don't get moving. The soldiers are almost on top of you."

"What soldiers?"

"The army of Thalience."

Marya looked at Axel, her eyebrows raised. He shrugged. "We'll be right there, as soon as we collect Calandria."

"Axel, there's no time!" The hawk unfolded its wings and leapt into the air. "Follow me!" It flapped north.