The Curse of the Winged Scorpion
Intimidation

Fantelshoved her arms into the deep hole and hauled Smith out. Vedeca lay like abeached leviathan in a high walled trench sixty feet away. There was no hint ofthe winged apparition. The other ship had landed, awkwardly but intact ahundred yards or so away from Vedeca, flickers of sickly phantasma flamesprouted from the back of the enemy airship. Fantel could see no movement fromeither ship. The savaged moorland glowed like something out of a fever dream.

“Blup,”Smith beeped pathetically. Fantel’s held the automaton tightly to her chest. Anxietybeat a steady tattoo against the inside of her skull. “Blo-oooooop.” Smith’spurple eyebeam blinked at her through a shield of crusted dirt. Its round shellquivered under her palms. Through her skin she could feel little tingles ofpower, energy seeping through the metal. She had the strangest feeling that theautomaton was shaking Fantel rang her palms over Smith’s shell, checking fordents or tears. She couldn’t replace any, which was remarkable in and of itself,but Fantel had already come to the conclusion that Smith was no ordinary machine.

Shegot to her feet, ignoring various protesting muscles. Her senses were primedfor danger. She had not forgotten the shock she had received from touching thepurple frost from Smith’s crash landing. Vedeca was much, much larger. Sheimagined the shock from touching the ground near the ship would be much greater.Caution was necessary. She edged around the periphery of the crash site movingtoward the enemy craft. She would check to see if their attackers posed anythreat before moving on to Vedeca. It would not do to rush to Rashari’s aidonly to be ambushed by whoever had attacked them in the first place.

Therewasn’t much cover. The moor stretched out like a grassy blanket in a gentlesweep down toward the distant lights of Aramantine. Grass grew to thigh highand Fantel crouched, slinking through the sharp edged blades as quietly as shecould. Darkness offered some camouflage, as did the the rocks sprouting fromthe ground like moss covered warts. The glowing trench cast its own light, butthe black night fell like a shroud over the rest of the moor. Fantel navigatedusing Smith’s eyebeam. She was just edging around the port side of the enemyairship, an ugly pot-bellied craft with none of Vedeca’s streamlined grace,when the whoosh of hydraulics shocked her into utter stillness. On the otherside of the craft the boarding door opened. Fantel heard coughing and the thumpof feet hitting solid ground. The night breeze carried with it the hint ofphantasma fumes and the raw, choking reek of burning oil. A man’s voice spatout a hoarse expletive in Bhuvanti. Fantel recognised the voice: Tomah. She twitched reflexively, andunder her arm Smith thrummed with tension.

“Whathappened?” Tomah demanded. “What in the name of Mishman was that?”

“Idon’t know.” Another man replied, sputtering around choked coughs. “The instruments– those readings -.I’ve never seen anything like that. The engines juststopped. I warned you! Every time we passed through those exhaust trails theinstruments went haywire. It must be some Veridree trick – something to do withthe exhaust gases.”

“Canyou fix it?”

“Itwill take time. The aft thruster blew out on landing; we’re leaking fuel.”

“Thenget to it.”

Thesound of harried footsteps passed toward the back of the ship. A spill of oilyrainbow light scraped over the grass behind the thrusters. Fantel creptbackward until she could duck under one of the ship’s wings. She huddled closeto the hull and shoved Smith down into the grass so that the light from itseyebeam was hidden. She held perfectly still under the wing as a man wearing a turbanand swinging a phantasma lantern fussed around the back of the airship. Hedidn’t appear to see her.

“Eiran,”Tomah barked from the other side of the ship. Fantel heard another thump as yetanother person jumped down from the ship.

“Yesbrother?”

“You’rewith me. Bring the rifle and the chains.”

“Doyou really think anyone survived that crash?”

“Ithink that the Dagoman ordered us to replace the Veridree bastard and the Chimeraand bring them to him. I’m going to fulfil my orders. It doesn’t matter to meif I bring them back dead or alive.”

“Ofcourse brother,” Fantel heard something that might have been a fist strikingagainst chainmail and then the tramp of retreating footsteps.

Shewaited until she couldn’t hear them anymore. Then she burst out from under thewing and dove straight for the oblivious pilot. She grabbed the man by the backof the neck, slamming him against the hull. The man yelped, dropping hislantern into the grass. Fantel smacked his head into the side of the hull, nothard enough to knock him unconscious but enough to stun him into silence. Shecould see the wet gleam of his too wide eye. She held his head immobile, faceturned to the side so he could speak. She pinned him with her body.Meditatively she flexed her claws over the folds of his turban.

“Howmany crew members remain aboard?” She asked him in Bhuvanti, almost breathingthe words into his ear.

“C-crew?”The pilot swallowed convulsively. “N-no one... it’s just me.”

“Andthe Dha-hali?” Fantel was aware of Smith out of the corner of her eye. Theautomaton was afloat once more and was rising steadily into the air toward thetop of the ship. Fantel bit down on the urge to order Smith to return tohiding.

“J-justthe two of them...they’ve gone to the other ship.” The pilot licked his lips,tip of his pink tongue darting out nervously. “Please don’t kill me. I had nochoice. They made me open fire.”

Fantelignored him. She was thinking. If Rashari had survived the crash he was mostlikely injured and therefore unlikely to be able to defend himself. If Fantelwent after Tomah and his underling she would be fighting two on one. Fantel wasa hunter by nature and occupation. She had survived in the human territoriesworking as a wayfarer – a sellsword – but she had always preferred to pickbattles where the odds favoured her. The odds this time were stacked againsther. Tomah had said his orders were to bring her and Rashari to Einar. Tomahintended to fly back to Bhuvam using this ship. He would have to return once hefound Rashari, no matter what condition he found him in. Fantel made herdecision.

“Youwill do as I say,” she told the pilot. “Is that clear?”

“Y-yes,clear, perfectly clear; whatever you say.” Fantel shoved him around the ship tothe entrance. Smith had disappeared. She could only hope he hadn’t gone toofar. She paused briefly before boarding, looking toward Vedeca, but she couldsee nothing beyond the eerie glow of the trench.

Theinside of the craft was not that dissimilar to Vedeca’s interior; the boardingdoor opened onto a narrow corridor bookended on either side by a door leadingto the cargo hold and the engine room to the back, and the cockpit to thefront. The metal walls of the airship were lined with red glowing phantasmaconduits and, unlike Vedeca, an unpleasantly astringent stink of phantasmaclung to the air. The pulsing light emanating from the walls gave the ship’sinterior a dark, hostile feel. Fantel kept hold of the pilot as she looked fromright to left, back toward the hold and then toward the cockpit. She could seethat the main cabin of the ship was smaller even than Vedeca’s. There wasbarely room for a pilot and co-pilot and precious little space for Fantel tolay in wait to launch an ambush. Tomah would not bring Rashari to the maincabin. He’d need somewhere with more space to hold either live prisoners orcorpses. Fantel shoved the pilot toward the back of the ship.

“Whichdoor leads to the cargo hold?”

“T-thisone,” The pilot reached out toward a sensor pad beside the right hand door. Thesensor flashed blue-green, lighting up in a serpentine sigil Fantel did notrecognise as the pilot pressed his palm against the anima reader. A secondlater there was a mechanised click and the door unlocked. Fantel kept a tightgrip on the back of the man’s tunic as he pulled open the door. Fantel couldjust see the contours of a large hold, convex walls limned in red light. Thehold had been sub-divided into a series of cages. Slave cages; underneath thereek of phantasma she could smell the ghost-hint of fear and human waste.Fantel curled her fingers into the skin of the pilot’s neck, nails justpricking his skin. The man whimpered as his skin broke.

“Please,don’t hurt me.”

Sheshoved him forward into the hold and wondered briefly how many of the people hehad transported to slave auctions in these cages had begged of him the samething. There was a space at the back of the hold, beyond the last cages thatwas open. A number of chains and manacles hung from heavy-duty hooks set intothe back wall. What there was not, however, was any convenient packing cratesor large pieces of machinery for Fantel to hide behind. She frowned. She hadbeen hoping to lay in wait here. Now she saw that there was really no place tohide in this hold, nor could she take any of the chains or manacles on the wallwithout their absence being instantly noticeable.

Shewhipped the pilot around to face her, slamming his body against the bars of thenearest cage. She pinned him with one forearm against his windpipe and splayedthe fingers of her free hand against his cheek, being sure to extend her clawsto the fullest. “You will help me hide.If you do this I will not flay the skin from your bones with my bare hands.” Toadd piquancy to her threat she lightly stroked the ends of her claws over thedelicate skin around his left eye socket.

“H-hide?”The pilot was ashen faced, skin clammy with fear sweat. Fantel was unmoved.Cowardice was not a defence, especially for a slaver.

“Yes,”Fantel paid no attention to the added sibilance to her tone. She could feel thedeep baseline ache in her upper jaw as her gums pulled back from lengtheningcanines and incisors. Her lips stretched back into a wide, wolfish snarlwithout her conscious thought. The growing terror in the slaver’s eyes as hewatched her features shift gratified her. Fantel had been born with sharp teethand claws, and an innate knowledge of how to use them. She was a creature ofthe wilderness, of nature, and nature was neither sweet nor kind. She intendedto educate Tomah on just how very unkind she could be, and she had no realqualms extending the lesson to this miserable human as well. “I need a placewhere the Dha-hali will not replace me; a place they will not see me before I rendthem limb from limb. Help me, and I will spare you their fate.” Sputum fleckedhis face as she spoke and the pilot flinched.

“Engineroom,” the pilot choked out, unable to tear his gaze from the perfect curve ofher canines, “It’s the next room over; they won’t go in there. I’ll let you inmyself...and...I’ll do whatever you want just please...don’t kill me.”

Fantelcould not smile with a mouth full of teeth designed to puncture and tear, butthat was probably just as well. The bright, amber glow of vengeance in her eyeswas more than fearsome enough.