Broken Wings

Flight of Icarus

"Faolin, you have that Anchor?" I asked, spitting again as I grabbed my canteen.

"Got it," he replied, waving the plum-sized globe at me. I noticed he was free of blood splatters. It had been me and the rebel who'd done the dirty work, not him. "We should go." We went, leaving the bodies where they lay. If anyone arrived to investigate, we hoped they wouldn't notice the missing Anchor before Steel and his cohorts got their party started.

Faolin took the lead, as he'd been free to explore the newly erected camp for a short while before he'd been confined. He knew its general layout and would be able to get us to the big tents in the center. We dashed away from the scene of our attack until I couldn't hear the voices of the humans in their section anymore, then we paused to steal a couple of sylvan cloaks hanging on a clothes line strung between a few trees. With the cloaks on and the hoods up, we could pass for a couple of random sylvan as long as no one got too close. When we set out again, we adopted a casual stroll and did our best to stick to the shadows without being obvious about it.

It was a relatively calm and quiet moment in our mission, the sort of time when my thoughts tended to wander. I couldn't allow that. I had to stay razor sharp and focused if we were going to accomplish anything besides killing those two hapless guards. Only two steps left! Find and smash the samples. Get out with Steel. Find and smash... and that was when I recognized the next big problem.

"Hey," I muttered to Faolin, "Tell me you know where the 'Transfiguration School' is in that big tent."

"No," the sylvan breathed. He was barely whispering, but I of course could hear him just fine. "I have no idea." I froze in place, stunned that I hadn't considered something so obvious. This was where my lack of experience with ground operations could ruin everything!

"Then how the hell are we supposed to find those samples?!" I hissed, jogging a few steps to catch up. We might have time to quickly sneak in and search a few rooms. We probably didn't have time to randomly stumble around that entire circus tent in the dark, hoping to find one tiny box of vials by sheer luck.

"Calm down," Faolin advised. "And keep your voice down too. If someone hears you and comes over to investigate, they'll realize very quickly we aren't present in the All like every sylvan here should be. Now, I don't know where they set up the temporary Halls for that School, but I can easily find out. I just need to ask one of the ogern there. They won't question a sylvan. They're here to serve us."

"Unless they recognize you," I whispered back. Faolin shrugged, but continued on in silence while I glared at his back, fuming. If he was recognized, he'd have to pull us back through the Anchor. How could he just shrug off that risk?! Unless... he wants to get recognized... Was I wrong to trust you? It was way too late to be asking that. I'd made my call, and my fate was in Faolin's hands now. As we passed one of the few parts of this camp I recognized, the giant tent the Sylvan were using as a barn for their gryphons, I did my best to ignore the paranoia and nervousness eating away at me. The time for worry and planning was over. All that was left was executing the plan in motion and adapting to whatever went wrong.

The underlying buzz of the All grew stronger as we crept closer and closer to the heart of the Sylvan camp. Then, just as we started catching glimpses of a clearing shortly ahead, the call we'd been waiting for rang out. "Ogern patrols! War packs! Assemble and rally to the human encampment at once! The resisters have escaped, and a riot is in progress!" More voices took up the call, and the echo quickly spread out throughout the camp all around us.

Faolin kept right on walking, projecting a total lack of concern, and I tried to imitate his manner even as a few dozen of the armed slave-warriors charged right past us back the way we'd come. We didn't step aside. The slaves parted around us just as Faolin had said they would. We weren't supposed to acknowledge them at all, but I couldn't resist a quick glance over my shoulder as my guts roiled with guilt and concern. Sil had been successful, and Steel was now free and leading the rioters. That was most if not all of the 'ogern' guards assigned to this part of the camp, heading off to restore order. They were now out of our way and unable to prevent us from destroying the samples. But that was an awful lot of muscle heading Steel's way. I just had to hope his people were as pissed off and eager for a fight as he'd claimed. They had to avoid capture until we arrived with the Anchor.