Harry Turtledove - Jaws of Darkness

“It’s these Habakkuk things, unless I miss my guess,” Talsu said. “They can carry a lot of dragons.”

“The Algarvians don’t like ‘em, that’s for sure,” Traku agreed. “They spend a lot of space in the news sheets screaming about ‘em.”

“Anything the Algarvians scream about can’t be all bad.” Talsu spoke with great conviction. No one in his family disagreed. Not many Jelgavans in Skrunda would have disagreed-only those few who’d ended up in bed with the redheads.

“I hope they have a couple of squads of soldiers right where the arch from the Kaunian Empire used to be,” Traku said. “And I hope an egg comes down right on those buggers.”

“That would be good,” Talsu agreed. “That would be very good.” He’d watched when the Algarvian mages toppled that arch. The redheads hadn’t cared for what it said about their ancestors. They probably didn’t care for what a lot of modern Jelgavans had to say about the descendants of their ancestors, either.

“At least we get a little warning when the Lagoans and Kuusamans come over now,” Gailisa said, as the shop shook again.

“They’ve got dowsers here now, I suppose,” Talsu said. “They aren’t doing it for us, though. They’re doing it for themselves.”

Before she could answer, several eggs landed close together, and all of them close to the tailor’s shop. The window blew in. Fragments of glass clattered off the front of the counter. More fragments clattered off the wall behind it. “Who’s going to pay for that?” Traku growled. “I am, that’s who. Curse ‘em all.”

All things considered, Talsu thought they were fairly lucky. Had those eggs burst a little closer, the shards of glass might have sliced right through the counter-and through the people behind it, too. He didn’t say that. His father hadn’t seen real war face-to-face, and didn’t know everything it could do. As far as Talsu was concerned, Traku didn’t know how lucky he was.

And then an egg did burst close by, close enough to slam the counter back against the people huddling behind it. Everyone shrieked. It didn’t quite go over onto them, and it didn’t quite crush them against the wall, but it came much too close to doing both. Talsu felt not the least shame in yelling along with the rest of his family. For a dreadful moment, he thought that yell would be the last cry that ever passed his lips.

When he realized he would live a little longer, he said, “We’re going to have to remodel the shop.”

“Right this minute, son, that’s the least of my worries,” Traku said.

Gailisa pointed to the wall above the counter. “What’s that funny light?”

Talsu looked up, too. It should have been dark; Skrunda left lights out at night to make it harder for Lagoan and Kuusaman dragons to find the town. Not hard enough, Talsu thought. But that orange, flickering glow was easy enough to recognize once you got over not expecting to see it there. “Fire!” he said.

It got brighter fearfully fast, too. “It’s close,” Gailisa said, and then, “We can’t stay here.”

“You’re right.” Talsu scrambled to his feet. Eggs were still falling, but that didn’t matter. The eggs might miss. If he and his family stayed where they were, they would burn. He hauled Gailisa up, too, then reached for his sister. “We’ve got to get out while we still can.”

“But-” his mother wailed.

“He’s right, Laitsina,” Traku said. “Come on. As long as we get out in one piece, we can worry about everything else later.” He got up, and after a moment his wife did, too.

By then, Talsu was already at the front door. It didn’t want to open; the blasts of sorcerous energy left it jammed in the frame. But the window beside it was bare of glass. Talsu helped Gailisa through the emptiness there. Ausra went through by herself. Laitsina started to balk. Traku slapped her on the behind, hard. She squawked and scrambled out into the street.

Talsu gaped. He’d never imagined his father hitting his mother. “Go out there, son, or I’ll give you the same,” Traku growled. “You’re the one who said we’ve got to get out, and you’re right.”

“Aye, Father,” Talsu said, as he might have to a sergeant giving him orders in combat. Out through the glassless frame he went. His father followed.

The shop across the street was burning. So was the one two doors down-and, even as Traku watched, the shop next door caught fire. “Where are the water brigades?” a neighbor asked.

“Probably busy somewhere else,” Talsu said. “This can’t be the only blaze burning.” Water brigades were splendid for fighting the occasional fire that broke out during peacetime. If half a dozen, or a dozen, or two dozen, fires broke out all at once, they were going to be hopelessly overmatched.

“But my shop will burn if the water brigades don’t come,” the neighbor said.

“Our shop will burn, too,” Laitsina said. She was clutching Traku’s hand very hard. She wasn’t angry about what he’d done to get her moving. If she wasn’t, Talsu supposed he didn’t have any business being angry, either.

“Sweetheart, there’s nothing we can do about it,” Traku said. “Not one fornicating thing.” An egg bursting a couple of streets away punctuated his words. Shaking his head, he went on, “We’re alive. That’s all that matters right now.”

Gailisa said, “Here’s hoping the Algarvians here in Skrunda caught it as hard as we have.”

“Aye, by the powers above,” Talsu said.

A woman who lived a few doors away said, “It’s a terrible thing when the people you want to win the war are dropping eggs on your head.”

Everyone nodded. Talsu had been thinking the same thing. He hadn’t dared say it, though. If he said anything too harsh about the redheads and it got back to them, what might happen to him? He could go back to the dungeon, and he knew it.

He made himself think about what was going on here and now, not what might happen later. “We’d better get moving, before the fire catches us,” he said.

No one argued with him. He rather wished someone had. He also wished he could have gone back into the shop, gone back upstairs for. .. what? Everything that truly counted was here in the street with him. Only then did he notice his feet hurt, and that he was barefoot. He wondered how much glass he’d stepped in, and how badly cut his feet were. He shrugged. He could worry about that later, too.

Gailisa gasped and clutched at his arm. The corpse the firelight showed wasn’t pretty. Blood-it looked black-puddled in the gutter by the body. Talsu said, “We’re lucky,” and meant it.

Traku looked back over his shoulder. “There goes the shop,” he said quietly. Laitsina started to cry. Talsu felt like crying, too. He’d thought he would grow old himself as a tailor in that shop. But he still counted himself lucky, for he still had a chance to grow old.

Half the time, Vanai hoped Unkerlanter dragons would smash the Kaunian district in Eoforwic to rubble. That way, the Algarvians wouldn’t get the chance to use her life energy for their own needs. But then she would shake her head and wrap her arms around her swollen belly. Not just her life was involved here-she would have her baby soon. And she fiercely wanted the baby to live. What happened to her didn’t seem nearly so important as what happened to it.

The Algarvians hadn’t staged another roundup in her part of the Kaunian quarter, though they’d swept through other parts of it. Whenever cries and screams rose elsewhere in the district, Vanai felt a horrid sense of relief-it was happening, aye, but not to her. Afterwards, she always hated herself for that relief, but she could never stifle it at the time.

She looked out the window of her flat, then shrank back again. A couple of Algarvian constables strolled along the street. They twirled their bludgeons as they passed. If they didn’t own the world, they weren’t about to admit it. She muttered a curse under her breath, even though she’d already seen that curses wouldn’t bite on Algarvians. That hardly surprised her. They cursed themselves, doing what they did to the Kaunians… didn’t they?