Page 37 of Swords of Soul and Shadow (Gate Chronicles #3)

GONE

Kase

NOW THAT KASE AND STOWE were out of the foothills, the landscape stayed flat, full of fields and farms being prepared for late spring planting.

Every so often, they’d pass someone along the road, either walking or riding a horse—but with the stolen hover’s speed, Kase couldn’t tell if they were Jaydian or not.

He could only hope the Cerls had left the country folk alone.

The absence of motorcoaches was odd, but then again, he’d grown up in the capital, where people could afford to pay for the Yalvar fuel to run them.

The main methods of travel outside the larger cities were livestock and carriages.

They’d only passed one carriage-for-hire. Kase didn’t know whether to take that as a good or bad sign. On the one hand, it could mean that Nar’s fall was an anomaly. On the other, maybe it was the only carriage that had survived some attack.

By the time Kase had worked through those thoughts, the carriage was already a mile back.

He shrugged off the unease and pulled the Cerl blanket into his lap.

He’d given up on trying to fly without it; the thing seemed to be infused with something to help with the chill that seized him every time he flew.

It wasn’t simply that he stopped shivering when he put the blanket over his knees; it warmed him to his very soul.

A rather odd sensation—a feeling he could only compare to when Hallie kissed him in that dungeon. Full of sadness and hope and fire. He could almost feel her lips on his now, feel the burning deep within him and the passion that had simmered beneath the surface.

What was she doing now? Was she missing him as much as he missed her? Was she eating enough? Was she cold? Hot? Hurt? Sick? Would he ever see her again?

Would she still want him after spending so much time with Niels?

Blasting terrible that Kase liked the man. He thrummed his fingers on the steering control and peeked at Stowe. He wasn’t asleep, only gazing out at the flashing fields. Clearly, Hallie’s bubbly personality had not come from her father.

Kase cleared his throat. “So, Niels. He’s a good guy?”

Something on the dash flashed weakly. Irritation flared, and he pressed it quickly. It flashed brighter in response. Nothing else happened.

Blasted contraption.

Stowe readjusted his sitting position. The leather creaked in response. “Known him since he was born. Good family. Should’ve made the Cerls pay more for what they done to ‘em.”

Kase gripped the steering control harder.

The same light blinked again, faster. Kase opened his mouth, but movement on the horizon stole any words he might’ve said.

Another traveler on the road; he could only tell because they’d been flying low in case he passed out again. Better to crash low than crash high.

So far, they’d been ignored by everyone they’d passed. So when the passerby turned and aimed a pistol at the hover, Kase had to wrench the steering control to try and get out of its range.

The hover veered sharply left, avoiding the man. The blanket fell off Kase’s lap.

Something smacked against the hover’s hull as Kase yanked it around, ready to fire on the assailant—only to find that he recognized the man holding the flashpistol.

It was the stupid blond who’d danced with Hallie at Laurent. Cornhead. His hair was white in the midday sun.

Sure, it was a Cerl hover, but what made the stars-idiot think a flashpistol would do anything besides irritate the pilot?

Maybe the name Cornhead was too generous.

As if in response to his thoughts, something on the hover dash beeped loudly and sprayed Kase with some sort of blue fluid. Kase slammed the hover brakes and sputtered through the thin liquid dripping off his eyelashes and nose.

Did—what—what just happened?

He quickly wiped his face and found Cornhead pointing the pistol back at the hover. He landed in a hurry and waved his arms at the man. “Wait!”

Not sure what Cornhead had expected, but that was not it. He let the pistol fall to his side. Kase released the windshield and stood, hands raised in the air. “You’re from Laurent, aren’t you?”

Of course, he already knew the answer, but he figured that was the best way to begin. No Cerl would’ve known about Laurent, being as small as it was.

When Cornhead didn’t reload the pistol and fire, Kase took a fuller breath and climbed over the side of the cockpit.

Cornhead’s hand twitched, and Kase threw himself down just before the pistol went off. His chin pounded the dirt, and his jaw ached; one moment later, and the bullet would’ve been in his head. He felt around his teeth with his tongue. None missing or knocked out of place.

He peeked up, spitting blood. He’d definitely bitten his tongue, but nothing seemed to be gushing. “Stop! I’m a Jaydian hover pilot, you—”

He stopped himself. Insulting the stars-idiot holding a pistol would not be his best plan.

“Stole this from Nar,” he gritted out instead. “We’ve met, if you remember.”

Shocks, his jaw hurt like the blazes.

Cornhead held the flashpistol loosely at his side and didn’t raise it again. Kase took that as a good sign and pushed himself to his feet.

Cornhead narrowed his eyes. “You talk like one of them capital people.”

Interesting—a mountain dialect. Maybe that was why Hallie had danced with him. Kase resisted the urge to fire an electrobolt at him just for the wave of jealousy the memory brought on.

“My name’s Kase Shackley, and yes, I’m from Kyvena.

My friend and I are on our way there.” Kase looked back at Stowe, who hadn’t left the hover cockpit—instead, he watched with a hesitant expression on his face, ready to duck.

Helpful. Kase continued, “The Cerls are coming this way, and we need to warn the capital.”

Cornhead paled. “More are coming?”

“More?”

Cornhead nodded. “Been flying over a few times a day for a week now. Never more than one or two at once, and when I saw your hover, I just got plumb tired of it.”

The breath froze in Kase’s chest.

Kase whipped his head back at Stowe. “We need to go.” He turned back to Cornhead. “They’ve already taken Nar, and even if they don’t use their hovers, most of you don’t stand a chance. I’d stock up on supplies and electropistols if you can. Any hover pilots nearby should be able to fight, and—”

Cornhead shook his head. “That’s the thing. The electricity ain’t working. Hasn’t been for days now.”

Kase didn’t wait for further explanation. He merely turned, scrambled up the hover’s wing, and leapt into the cockpit.

“Let’s fly.”

AT THAT POINT, KASE DIDN’T care how cold or dizzy he felt. He didn’t question the use of the blanket at all as he wrapped it around his shoulders and pushed the hover to its full capacity. The craft didn’t question Kase’s need to fly faster, it only obeyed.

It was almost like it was Kase, in a weird way.

Of course, he fully realized that idea was absolutely stars-ridiculous.

Except the hover really did seem to know what he wanted; the more desperately Kase wanted to get to the capital, the faster the hover flew.

The more Kase envisioned the city drowning in flames and enemy hoverships, the more he pushed the craft, and it responded in kind.

The lights flared brighter and brighter until Kase was sure they’d blind him, but he didn’t stop.

He couldn’t stop.

Stowe hadn’t said anything since Cornhead’s revelation about the electricity.

He understood the need to get to the capital quickly.

His wife had supposedly been making her way to Kyvena for weeks, but whether by foot or by carriage, it was hard to say if she’d gotten there in time.

Stowe kept a wary eye out for her, but he didn’t stop Kase’s mad dash.

The Cerls had been planning this for a while, and while Kase wasn’t sure exactly how they’d done it, he simply knew they had, and his father wouldn’t have been expecting it.

Had they had help? A Yalv? Was Saldr’s willingness to go with him and Hallie to Jayde after the mission simply the desire to make things right? Or was there a more sinister reason?

The threat of what Eravin might have done when Kase rejected his offer also haunted him.

What if One World was working with the Cerls?

If Eravin had spread that Kase was the one who’d started the fire over three years ago, what would be waiting for him in the city?

Would the High Council be able to control the fallout?

Was everything that happened Kase’s fault?

Had Kase destroyed the capital for a second time?

After the assassination of Forrest Richter and his household, knowing the Stradat Lord Kapitan had used his status and family name to keep his son from facing the consequences of his actions would only detonate the powder keg ready to spark.

What a mess. And that was an understatement.

Kase tried hard to think back to his time with Correa.

The Cerl Commander was an Essence-wielder, as was King Filip…

and Hallie. There were others. Skibs. Was there another they hadn’t accounted for?

Kase wished he could remember more, but the strain from flying with little to no rest was catching up with him.

He tipped back another one of Stowe’s caffeine concoctions. Some splashed on his cheek. He handed back the vial and wiped the offending droplet away with the sleeve of his jacket.

“Should be there soon,” Kase croaked. His throat was raw. He couldn’t pinpoint why, exactly, as it’d only been a few hours since they’d left Cornhead outside Laurent.

Stowe didn’t answer. He was probably just as nauseated as Kase waiting for the capital city to appear on the horizon.

Kase’s mother, brother, and pregnant sister-in-law were still in the city. Their faces burned bright in his mind, and the hover surged again. He hoped Clara hadn’t had the baby yet. He hoped his mother was safe.

He didn’t care about Harlan.