The Ashes of Worlds - Kevin J. Anderson [56]
Even more large warliners returned, their pilots and crews confused by the disappearance of the Mage-Imperator from the thism. They wanted orders and explanations, but Adar Zan’nh had little reassurance to offer. He ordered them to wait. Because he could not know what the Mage-Imperator’s orders would be in such a situation, he made the best decisions he could.
His nine remaining warliners were combing the landscape for survivors, checking on refugee camps, helping Ildirans to remain marginally safe from the faeros — or so he hoped. His other warliners scattered through the Spiral Arm could do little to support the many parts of the Empire left adrift. Meanwhile, he was stuck here, forcibly separated from the bulk of his Solar Navy.
The Ildiran Empire needed him to come up with some kind of brilliant strategy that would overthrow the faeros and free the people. Zan’nh had made his career by wrenching some kind of solution out of seemingly impossible circumstances. He had proved his mettle many times. Doing the best he could, he now tried to develop a strategy.
But against the faeros, he had nothing yet. He had racked his brains for days, consulted with his best advisers, and could think of no way to stand against the fiery elementals that would not end in total disaster.
In the central grotto, Rememberer Ko’sh had gathered a group of listeners for a tale recently approved to become part of the revised Saga of Seven Suns. “This is how Adar Kori’nh struck a devastating blow against the hydrogues.”
Zan’nh flinched, wondering if the Chief Scribe had chosen that story as a particular jab at him. Yes, Adar Kori’nh, his heroic predecessor . . . Even when the hydrogues had seemed invincible, Kori’nh had found a way to inflict harm.
Zan’nh’s thoughts folded inward like serrated blades, cutting into his memories as the rememberer described how the old Adar had sacrificed a whole maniple of Solar Navy warliners to annihilate an equivalent number of enemy warglobes. In the process, Adar Kori’nh had shown the rest of the Ildiran Empire a way to hurt the deep-core aliens.
Zan’nh’s eyes glittered in the well-lit grotto; he ground his teeth in frustration. He would gladly have followed the other Adar’s example, but against the faeros the sacrifice would be pointless. Nor would he waste his remaining Solar Navy ships in suicidal crashes against the fireballs. He had too few ships, and they must remain undamaged for the defense of Ildira.
During the Chief Scribe’s story, young Ridek’h sat on the stone floor beside Tal O’nh. Yazra’h paced back and forth with her Isix cats, as restless and frustrated as the Adar was. Prime Designate Daro’h stood by himself, clearly disturbed.
Suddenly Zan’nh reeled backward, losing track of the rememberer’s sing-song voice. A great quake passed through the thism, and he felt a thousand screams erupt inside his head. Ko’sh’s voice faltered as he detected it, too.
On the other side of the chamber, Daro’h sank to his knees, gasping for breath. “The faeros have attacked again. Thousands of people just died.”
More affected than any of them, Ridek’h placed his hands against his forehead. “Those were people from Hyrillka. One of the resettlement camps.” He stared around in the underground chamber. “I could hear them shouting, pleading in my head. And then it just stopped.”
Moving impulsively, Zan’nh marched toward the lift platform that led to the mine tunnel’s exit. “I will take the cutter and investigate. Maybe I can help the survivors — if there are any.”
Ridek’h got to his feet. His voice was strained when he spoke. “I am going with you.”
“It is too dangerous.”
The boy crossed his arms over his chest. “Then it is too dangerous for you, as well, Adar.”
Tal O’nh smiled into his personal darkness. “Take the boy, Adar. The experience will make him stronger.” Zan’nh was reminded of his own relationship with Kori’nh, his teacher. He could not say no.
The glare of smoky daylight was unrelenting as the cutter