Chương 174: Chapter 172 – Relative Distances

Moriarty returned to Earth with the help of Ashfeather and his priests. Cole made his way back to the rest of the team. Overhead, thick storm clouds had rolled in and lightning raked the mountains to the—Cole checked his wrist compass—east. The smell of impending rain filled the air. Once that cloud cover rolled in and blocked out the already-meager light of the violet sun it was going to be pitch black, even to Cole. Back in the plaza, the temple guards had finished clearing bodies and debris.

Roxy sat with Nona and Howie where he'd set up his mortar. Roxy looked up at his approach, and her eyebrows rose.

"Jeez, Cole. You look like ten kinds of hell. What happened?"

"I met this island's god."

"Like, god, god?" asked Howie.

"Like, Dallemonte god?"

"Not quite. This one wasn't all-powerful. I think the land-bound gods are mostly kings of their own castles. But he's also not someone I'd ever want to fuck with, and he's not our friend. He, uh…" Cole looked at the temple guards nearby who seemed as though they were trying very hard to look as though they weren't listening.

"…said some stuff. I'll backfill you later. Long story short, I have it on divine authority that Moriarty's intel was good. The Starlit know exactly where Monica Phillips is. How we're supposed to get there…" Howie perked up.

"That's no issue. Nona says there's an airfield with planes big enough to carry several people." Cole turned to Nona.

"You looked around?" Nona nodded.

"Spoke to some of their pilots. They have planes, like your world."

"And they were willing to talk?"

"All the Saltpeak Starlit know about humans from Moriarty's team," said Nona.

"They've had planes and warriors and priests waiting for our arrival, ready to mount a relief mission to the Starlit already trying to wake that god up. But the pilots who have been to the temple refuse to talk about what they saw there. Whatever is in that mountain, it's become taboo for the Saltpeak Tribe." Cole thought about the harem of blind, deformed Starlit in the altar chamber birthing inbred hybrid offspring.

Considering what this tribe was okay with, it was hard to imagine what they would consider verboten.

"Well, I don't need any souvenirs from Saltpeak. As soon as the weather clears, let's convoy out. Nona, can you take us to the airfield? If we're going to be riding in these aircraft, I want to see them for myself. Maybe have one of the pilots take me up for a few patterns." Nona nodded. Cole whistled for the rest of his team and corkscrewed his finger in the air. Wayland and Alexa came over.

"Where's Besson and Wayland?" he asked.

"Went with a patrol to help hunt down drake stragglers with the pups," said Alexa. Cole keyed his mic.

"Besson, when you're done, have one of the warriors take you to the airfield."" Good copy." Cole turned and got the attention of one of the Starlit warriors.

"If Ashfeather comes looking for us, let him know we went to the airfield."

"Yes, my lord."

"Nona?" Nona pushed off the plaza wall and set off down a set of wide steps leading down the front face of the temple. The stone structure was built much like one of the Mayan pyramids Cole had seen in history books, but sprawling, with three distinct peaks. He looked up at the mountains behind the city. Well, the one material they didn't lack for was stone.

And if the coming storm was as bad as it looked, they would need construction that could take a battering—not to mention these islands sometimes crashing into one another. If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Several of the temple guards walked beside Nona, asking her questions or asking to see bits of her kit, which she handed over. She even chuckled at some of their comments. Roxy prodded Cole with an elbow.

"Awfully chummy, don't you think? She's not even that animated with us."

"Maybe she likes birds," said Cole. Roxy rolled her eyes at him. Cole sighed and stepped up his pace to draw abreast of Nona. The Starlit warriors looked up at him.

"I need to speak with her," he said.

"Heavenly business." The two warriors dipped their heads and hurried their pace down the steps. Nona looked up at Cole.

"What is it?"

"Just curious. You seem to get on well with the locals. It's rare to see you, you know, talking. Making friends." Nona looked out over the city.

"They're good people." Cole raised an eyebrow.

"Are they?"

"Good?"" People," said Cole.

"It seems like they've sold their humanity to a divine vulture." Nona's brows knitted.

"They're still human inside. They even have artwork from before they reached this island and found the land-bound god. The Starlit gods' gifts are what allow them to survive such a harsh world. You know the Saltpeak tribe hatches instead of giving live birth? And they reach adulthood in just eight years. They can replenish losses from war, famine, or plague more than three times as quickly as normal humans."

"Doesn't exactly disprove my point. I saw the birthing chamber. It was horrible. So was the thing they worship." Nona bit her lip.

"Cole, however they may look, I have more in common with these people than I do with you and the others."

"That's not true," said Cole.

"It is true," said Nona.

"Their way of life, their way of thinking, it's not so different from the demihuman steppe tribes on the frontier of Palavan where I grew up. Even the air here feels more like home."

"How can the air feel different?"

"Earth's air is oily and sticky." Cole opened his mouth to respond, then closed it again. In truth, he felt a bit offended on Earth's behalf. But, then, they had fucked up the air on Earth. And the ocean. The land wasn't doing too hot, either.

"Still better than Vael," muttered Cole. Nona actually laughed at that.

"Very well, I'll concede that Earth's air is better than the Vaelian warfront."

"I'll take it." They continued down, where Nona turned right and led them through a bustling city. Starlit were busy bringing things into the stone buildings and securing shutters ahead of the storm. Juveniles ran through the streets with toy guns and swords, and occasionally one or more of the adults took wing for short glides from the towers to cross the city by air. Cole noticed that the tribe split on strict gender lines. The men wore simple armor and carried weapons, the women carried washbaskets and linens.

Many of them stared openly at Cole and the others as they passed by. Twenty minutes later, they emerged from the city to a flat, open area with earthen hangars that looked like shorter, wider pyramids lining an unpaved dirt airstrip. A group of pilots moved aircraft into the hangars ahead of the storm. Cole jogged over for a look at them. The aircraft themselves looked to be mainly wood and canvas. The fighters were light-weight, slender craft with swept wings.

At the nose end, a small glass shell contained control sticks and restraints. The pilots must have to crawl into them on their bellies. The transports were much larger, high-winged craft that were still too small to stand up in. They were going to be hell for someone Besson's size or, hell, even Howie sized." Looks like a deathtrap," Alexa muttered. Wayland nodded in agreement. Howie cleared his throat.

"I may not know much about aircraft, but, uh, don't they need engines?"

"You'd think so," said Cole, running his hand over one of the fighters. He worked his way back towards the craft's center of gravity and spotted what he was looking for.

"Here," he said. Long, thin pink crystals were mounted to the aircraft, like the ones that had been in the dragonguard drop harnesses.

"Salt-powered. That seems to be the solution to everything, here." One of the aircraft maintainers made their way over and bowed.

"My lords, we must bring these in before the storm. But if you are curious about our skywings, I would be honored to pay answers after. Would you join us for the evening meal?" Cole glanced back at the others.

"We'll join you, but we have our own provisions."

"You honor us." The tech gestured to one of the open hangars.

"That is the barracks where the crews and skywing pilots stay. We have warm, dry beds out of the weather. Please use them as you will."

"You heard the man," said Cole.

"Far be it from us to be the assholes slowing down the motor pool. Let's get the fuck out of their way and let them finish."