Adrian Tchaikovsky - Blood of the Mantis

‘Welcome to the worst-kept secret on the Exalsee,’ the Fly announced, as Che alighted from the fixed-wing. ‘Welcome to Aleth.’

‘This place has a name?’

‘This is a city as far as the locals are concerned,’ Taki told her. ‘The Alethi are nomads, Ant-kinden, and they’re off in the jungles for months at a time, camping for a tenday and then moving on, always hunting and gathering. Their tribes all come here at some stage, though, and so do the traders from Solarno and Princep and Porta Mavralis. When there are natives in town, this is the busiest trading spot on the Exalsee, believe me.’

‘How?’ Che demanded. ‘How could you even accommodate any reasonable number of people here?’

Taki laughed. ‘The traders live on their boats, while the Alethi build their little tree-houses off in the jungle. Over there’s a joint called the Clipped Wing, where everyone goes to drink and deal, and that next to it there’s the big storehouse, where the goods get stowed until they’re picked up. You see, you don’t really need buildings – not when everyone knows what they’re doing.’

‘So what are we doing here?’ Che asked her. Whatever Taki might say about this place at its height, there were a few people about now, mostly green-tinted Ant-kinden who she supposed must be Alethi.

‘We’re going to visit the Clipped Wing,’ Taki replied. ‘I want you to meet some friends of mine.’

The taproom of the Clipped Wing was barely that: a big open space, shutters flung open along the riverside wall, and the window space screened off with cloth mesh to keep out the insects. At one end of the room a few planks had been nailed to the tops of some barrels to provide a makeshift bar. Behind the bar itself…

Che ran forward a few steps, feeling instantly absurd because it could not be him. Indeed, when she looked again, this man was older, darker of skin and longer of nose. Still, it had been quite a shock. She stopped in the middle of the taproom, feeling foolish and upset.

‘Why are you lookin’ at me like that?’ the barman growled. ‘I owe you moneys or something?’

‘No, it’s just…’ Che bit her lip. ‘I had a friend who was… one of your kinden.’

‘That right?’ The barman did not seem much interested, but amongst all those spikes and hooked thorns it was hard to judge his real expression. He was only the second Thorn Bug-kinden she had ever seen.

‘Two, please, Chudi,’ Taki told him, flipping a coin onto the counter. The barman gave her a leer.

‘Thought we’d be seeing you, once that bunch o’ reprobates made it. Was just thinkin’ to mesself, who could turn up that’d be more trouble than all o’ them put together?’

‘I love you too, Chudi,’ said the Fly, accepting two wooden mugs from him, and then heading off for one of the low tables that were shoved up against the walls. The mismatched band already sitting on the floor around it were currently the Clipped Wing’s only other clientele, and they had chosen the table with the best view of the water.

Taki simply dropped in amongst them, leaving Che hovering awkwardly until the Fly used her elbows to make some room for her larger companion. As Che sat down, she was aware that all eyes were on her, weighing her up, perhaps wondering what use she was.

‘This is Bella Cheerwell Maker,’ Taki told them. ‘She’s come a long way, from the other side of the Spiderlands, she says, and she’s heard we’ve got a Wasp problem here. Che, these ladies and gentlemen are some of the best pilots anywhere about the Exalsee. A little siblinghood, you might say.’

Che nodded blankly, looking from face to face as Taki named them in turn. Scobraan was a heavy-set Solarnese Soldier Beetle wearing a leather breastplate on which golden wings were painted. Niamedh was a woman of the same kinden, her hair shaved close to her skull and the edges of an old scar reaching from either side of an eye-patch. Te Frenna was another Fly-kinden woman, flamboyantly dressed, with a red scarf trailing from her neck. And ‘The Creev’, as Taki named him, was a halfbreed – native Solarnese bulked out with solid Ant-kinden muscles. The final member of Taki’s little coterie was the most surprising.

‘And this is Drevane Sae,’ the Fly announced. Sae grinned at Che with a face fiercely tattooed across the cheeks and forehead. He had a helm on the table in front of him with a curled metal crest, and he wore armour comprised of wood and leather. He was a Dragonfly, clearly, and Che had never seen anyone less like a pilot.

‘She does me wrong, this little woman,’ he said to Che, his smile widening to show teeth that had been filed sharp. ‘I am no metal-pilot, though. Rider, that is the word for me. These machine-shaggers can’t match me and my bride.’

Che made an uncertain noise in response and looked to Taki for guidance.

‘Sae is the best insect-rider that Princep Exilla has got,’ Taki explained. ‘These days they mostly hire mercenary aviators from Chasme, but there are enough of them still who do things the old-fashioned way.’

‘Old-fashioned and best,’ Drevane Sae confirmed. When he scratched at his stubble Che clearly saw his wicked-looking thumb-claws.

‘So you don’t like the Wasps?’ Scobraan said. ‘Well join us in a drink to that.’ He raised his mug and the others did likewise, leaving Che no choice but to follow their example. The liquor was harsh, yet almost tasteless, and made her gag.

‘You told her already why we’re of the same mind?’ Scobraan asked Taki.

‘Our little social club has a varying membership,’ the Fly explained. ‘Not least because on some occasions we do our best to shoot each other down. If you’d been here three months ago, you’d have seen a few faces who can’t be with us now. Good friends of ours.’

‘But you said… you fly against each other?’ Che looked from face to face, not quite understanding. ‘Are you friends or aren’t you?’

‘We are siblings,’ Niamedh said. ‘What we share, none who has not done as we do can ever understand. The wind and the sky’s vault above. The rush of air against your wings. The world lying like a bowl below you.’

‘Working for different cities, different parties,’ te Frenna added. ‘So we fight, who wouldn’t? When we’re told to, or when we want. We’re allowed to – that’s the point.’

‘If Scobraan is asked by the Path of Jade to fly against the Destiavel house,’ Taki explained, ‘then he and I will go head to head, and perhaps I’ll shoot him down, or perhaps he’ll shoot me.’

‘You’re like Mantis-kinden,’ Che said. ‘Or… no, you’re like a duelling society, but with flying machines.’

‘Just like,’ Scobraan agreed. ‘But this time is different. Like Taki said, we’re missing friends at this table, because of the Wasps.’

‘They’ve been in Solarno almost half a year now,’ Niamedh said. ‘Just a few at first, then more and more. They’ve wooed all the parties, with gifts and celebrations and promises of aid. Then we found there were their soldiers out on the streets, and sometimes one party had hired them, and sometimes another, like mercenaries, until sometimes they were about and nobody had hired them at all. But they were still going about their usual business, breaking down doors, making people disappear.’

‘And then Amre,’ Taki said. ‘Well, te Marro Amre-Stelo to you, but Amre to me…’ She hesitated. ‘He flew north, to visit their grand Empire, to find out where they were all coming from. When he came back he was scared. He called a few of us to meet with him, every one of us who was in Solarno then. That was me, Niamedh and a couple more. Only when we turned up, before he could even tell us, the Wasps were right there. They…’ She pressed her lips together and looked down at the table. Che was surprised at this, since the Fly girl had been nothing but cheery sunshine since they had first met.