The dragonfly circled back to wait for the other raiders. Pulses emanating from the compound struck the dust dome, clotting together large patches that fell as granules, opening gaps. The motes spread to fill them, but in the process, thinned the remaining screen.
The mantid pinned to the boulder by the many-barbed harpoon pitched and teetered, struggling to stay in the air. The swinging stone threw it off balance, but kept the Frelsians at bay as they attempted to bring it down.
The second mantid emerged from the dust, cradling a body in its forelegs. Passing close to harpooned beast, the rider leapt onto its back. He clambered down onto the creature’s abdomen, axe in hand, and hacked away at the harpoon impaling it. The shaft splintered and fell away. The boulder struck a ledge and shattered like a bomb. Freed, the mantid surged away from the dust cloud, but its wings were in tatters. It settled onto the slope a short distance away, exhausted.
The other mantid landed next to the injured one, ready to defend. But before the Frelsians could organize their attack, both took to the air. This cued the dragonfly to turn and zoom across the slopes, leading the way away from the spires and towers of Frelsi.
Thick straps secured the saddle where they crossed beneath the dragonfly’s thorax. Heavy boots with knobby spurs were visible through the transparent shimmer of wings. “Urszula? Is that you up there?” The rush of wind muffled my words.
Every time the dragonfly zigged or zagged or shifted altitude, I bounced in the loose basket formed by the curl of its legs. I thought for sure it would drop me, but every time it sensed a wiggle, it pulled me closer.
The beast was having a little trouble maintaining its level. One of its wing veins was severed and the membrane attached to it had shredded. It kept rolling to the left due to the loss of lift.
We veered towards a severe gash in the landscape, a steep-walled gorge whose walls were lush and green. A milky creek funneled through its depths, a tinted a pastel blue from the stony flour it carried from the melting glacier.
We dipped below the precipices, descending to a wide, flat gravel bed beside the rushing creek. The dragonfly dropped me gently onto the stones and skittered around to face me, its huge eyes glittering like a jeweled mosaic, palps and labrum gnashing noisily. Why did every giant bug have to act like it wanted to eat me?
Its rider hopped down off the saddle. I glimpsed slender but wiry calves and thighs clad in scales and webbing. Urszula ducked beneath the wings of her mount and came forward. She tossed me an unsmiling glance. Her worried eyes scanned the rim of the gorge.
“Thank you,” I said.
She gave no indication that she even heard me. She came over, studied my bindings and touched her scepter to them. They shriveled a bit, but quickly re-plumped and grew thicker.
“They used the very best quality on you. They must think you are a very important or dangerous criminal.” She bit her lip and tried again. This time the strands smoked and quivered before collapsing into hollow sheaths that I kicked apart as if they were wet cardboard.
She repeated the process for binds that welded my arms together. Pins and needles shot through my hands and feet as I stretched, finally relieved of the awkward contortions I had been forced to maintain.
A mantid appeared on the lip of the gorge. Urszula whistled and waved her arms. It hopped off the brink and glided down, skidding on the gravel as it landed. It scuttled over and deposited its cargo next to me—the broken and bloody body of a Duster woman. She still breathed, but her condition seemed grave.
Urszula rushed to her side, cradling her head gently in her palms. She checked the woman’s eyes and felt for a pulse on her neck. Her face was swollen. Her skull looked lopsided, cracked and depressed in several places. A mixture of clear fluid and blood seeped out of her nose and ears. Both forearms were bent as if she had extra elbows. She was completely unresponsive. I thought for sure she was a goner.
