Page 83 of Storm to Victory
“Is General Krellian stationed here in Landri?” Pip withdrew the file of papers.
“Yes. He’s one of Mongavaria’s top generals. He works in the War Office.” Jayna paused where she was perusing some of the letters in one of the desk’s drawers. “Why?”
“There’s a report from him on magical experiments.” Pip added the file to her stack.
“His office is going to be on the top of our list when we break into the War Office.” Jayna grinned, sounding far too cheerful. As if she found breaking and entering as fun as Pip found tinkering on a new mechanical project.
Pip swallowed and turned back to the file cabinet. She was swimming way out of her depth.
As the sunpierced the eastern horizon, Fieran’s eyes burned after driving all night. He followed the road more by instinct than conscious thought. The road ahead curved to follow the lay of the land between two rolling hills.
When the road exited the other side and joined another, larger road, Fieran slammed on the brakes hard enough to send the pallet sliding in the back and Aaruk scrambling to brace himself in the front seat.
The road before them was clogged with trucks, horses, carts, and people on foot, all the people and vehicles laden with bags and crates and furniture.
Aaruk slumped low in the front seat, holding up a gloved hand to hide the side of his face even as he pulled the uniform cap low. “What’s going on?”
“They’re Mongavarian citizens fleeing the front.” Fieran let the truck idle, watching the people shuffle past. “This is going to make things complicated.”
Should he try to find another route? Was there another route or would all the roads from here to Landri be as jammed as this one? It would only get worse as Adry and the army pushed farther into Mongavaria.
“What do we do now?” Aaruk was scrunched so low in the seat he would barely be visible over the dashboard.
“Go forward, I guess.” Fieran let the truck roll forward once again. “You’d better get in the back. Slouching like that is suspicious.”
Aaruk pushed from his seat, keeping low as he crawled into the back of the truck. After a few minutes, Dacha slid into the front passenger seat with a weary sigh.
As Fieran eased the truck onto the main road, the crowd shuffled and parted, creating some space for the military truck driven by someone wearing a Mongavarian uniform. That still didn’t give Fieran space to do more than roll slowly forward with the flow of traffic, but he was at least on the main road.
“How are Ellie and Tryndar?” Fieran risked peeling his eyes away from the road long enough to glance at his dacha where he was slumped beside him. When Fieran returned his gaze to theroad, he had to slam on the brakes again to avoid hitting the rear end of the mule in front of the truck’s bumper.
He really shouldn’t be driving right now. His reactions were seriously impeded by his lack of sleep. But Dacha wasn’t in much better shape.
“Safe. Or still in danger.” Dacha sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. “It was a long night, and what is coming through the elishina is jumbled.”
It must still be bad, if Dacha couldn’t fully interpret Mama’s emotions.
Fieran flexed his fingers on the steering wheel. While worry still tightened his chest and twisted his gut, the long night of it—both for his siblings and for Pip—and the exhaustion because of it dampened the sensation somewhat. Surely with both Mama and Louise looking out for them, his siblings would be all right.
After all, Fieran had seen the rifle Mama kept over the door and heard the fierceness in her tone. Nor would he discount Louise. She was, after all, a wielder of the magic of the ancient kings, the daughter of a long line of warriors and trained by the Laesornysh.
Whoever was endangering Ellie and Tryndar had no idea who they were messing with.
“If you can find somewhere safe to stop, we should rest for a few hours.” Dacha leaned his head against the back of his seat, briefly closing his eyes before the bray of a donkey had him jerking upright again.
Fieran stared with gritty eyes at the sea of displaced humanity clogging the road and spilling onto the surrounding fields before them. “I’m not sure that’s going to be possible.”
Fieran trudged along the road,a pack on his back, both his wound and his feet aching. His stomach rumbled, but he resisted the urge to complain about the lack of food. With each breath, he choked on the dust being kicked up by the people, animals, and vehicles walking, clopping, and rattling around them.
Aaruk shuffled along beside Fieran, gloves on his hands and dirt rubbed over his face to disguise his green skin. Dacha, too, had smeared dirt on his face to hide the silvery paleness of his complexion.
Not that anyone came too close or looked at them too closely. The benefit to the gray-blue uniforms they wore was that the regular citizens on the road gave them as wide a berth as they could manage on the crowded road.
Dacha marched just ahead at a ruthless pace, his jaw set and his eyes hard. He’d relaxed somewhat once he finally received confirmation from Mama that Ellie and Tryndar were safe.
But now that relief had turned into a flinty anger that was driving him onward, Fieran and Aaruk with him.
They’d run out of fuel for the truck miles back and made the decision to abandon it. They’d packed their bags, hidden their swords in the packs and bedrolls as best they could, and set out.
