Midwinter

"A friend of mine died so that you could fly in this `thing,' woman," said Eloquet. "Marar Envacoro was one of the bravest men I've ever known."

"It was not my wish to offend," said Raieve, blushing. "I do not mean to diminish the sacrifice of your friend."

"And you're certain we'll have clearance to get into the city with it?" asked Mauritane.

"I think so," said Eloquet. "In peacetime, they do not even check the passphrases. Marar was able to come and go as he pleased, and he visited us here often, coordinating the church's Unseelie operations. The flier was spellworked to return to the temple upon his death, so it escaped detection even unmanned. Now that they are at war, however, I suspect they'll be a bit pickier about who gets in. Marar and I spoke often about this contingency and he believed it would work."

"What happened to him?" said Satterly.

"Mab's legionnaires cut his throat. His name has joined the list of martyrs."

Satterly nodded and didn't say anything.

"Are we ready then?" said Mauritane.

"I think so," said Eloquet. "Vestar?"

"A simple prayer, I think," said the old man, rising to his feet. "Aba, protect these of your children as they embark on a mission whose goal is peace. Let them commit only what is necessary of bloodshed, and spread your protection like a blanket over them, for they act in your name."

"The girl Elice is safe, the baron's daughter?" Mauritane asked Eloquet.

"My men are watching over her. She will come to no harm. I do wish you'd tell me why we're keeping her, though. Perhaps I'd feel more comfortable about it."

"I wish I could tell you," Mauritane said.

Eloquet looked around. "Right, cut the moorings. We're off?"

One of Eloquet's men swung an ax, and the ropes holding the flyer in place snapped, sending the craft lurching forward into the sky.

"How does this thing work?" Satterly shouted over the wind.

"Its power comes from the city itself. It can't operate very long away from the city's power source, but it should be just enough to get us back when we're done."

The city of Mab had appeared on the horizon in the early morning, a wide charcoal shadow against the northern skyline. Its approach was ponderous, seemingly infinite, but whenever Raieve looked up, its bulk seemed closer. Now she was almost glad to be flying directly toward it, if only to end the waiting. It grew in size and definition as they flew; she tried to make out the details of the city, keeping her mind full in order to block out the cold and fear.

They passed over the northern outskirts of Sylvan and sailed across the forest to the north. Somewhere in that direction lay the still-burning wreckage of Selafae. According to witnesses, the city had been incinerated in a matter of seconds by a tiny projectile. The ones who'd seen it and lived swore the missile was no larger than a man's head.

As they approached the city of Mab, Eloquet veered to the east, keeping the flyer low to the ground. They would make a wide circle and approach the city from the northeast to make their cover story more believable.

Already they could see the troop transports beginning to ferry their cargo to the ground. The wide, flat vessels detached from the city's ragged underbelly, each carrying a hundred or more men in tight formation, as well as horses, weapons, and supplies. Soldiers on the ground hurriedly felled trees so the transports could land in greater numbers.

"Why are they landing troops so far away from Sylvan?" asked Silverdun.

"These are only the backup infantry and cavalry," said Eloquet. "The primary column will remain in the city until it lands. These soldiers will secure the surrounding villages and clean up the mess when it's all over."

"They have more backups than we have troops!" shouted Satterly.

"Not quite," said Eloquet, "but enough to make me uncomfortable."

Once they'd reached a sufficient distance to make a plausible approach vector, Eloquet brought the flyer about and they glided toward the city of Mab. Now they were running with the wind, and Raieve realized that the flyer itself made no sound whatsoever.

"Check your costumes," ordered Mauritane. "And keep to yourselves. We don't want to start a fight before we even reach the city."

The city grew to take up half the sky, and it kept growing. Raieve had to admit she was impressed. From the outside, the city of Mab was one of the most beautiful things she'd ever seen. Enormous masts rose into the heavens bearing multicolored sails. Long streamers of purple and red flew from posts all over the rails and from the rigging as well. Though the structure had obviously been amended heavily over the years, its basic shape was that of a pear sliced in half along its length. The top deck was mostly flat, and the hull underneath was smooth and rounded. From the flat expanse rose a number of towers and spires; they mingled with the sails, their solidity complementing the constant rippling of the sheets.