negotiations
delta writes back to his clan to ask for help and robin finds her fighter
~
Delta stared down at the blank sheet of paper on the table in front of him. He raised his pen, hesitated, then lowered it again.
How could he even begin to write back to his clan? Who would he even address the letter to? Leo had been in a coma last time Delta had seen him. Orress was gone. Luke was missing in action (Delta refused to think dead).
John, he decided. It was a letter for him, after all.
“What's the matter?” Neven said. They'd been exploring the new quarters they shared with Delta and Seafra, skimming their hands over the military bunks and stone walls. When Delta didn't respond, Neven came back to the table and set a hand on his shoulder.
“They probably don't want to hear from me,” Delta said quietly. “You weren't there when I left the clan. Fiach was so angry. They all hate me now, and I'm supposed to ask for their help...”
“Well,” Neven said, “you can apologise, but I. Don't really think you need to? If I was Fiach, I would be delighted to hear from you. Especially if I thought you were dead.”
“Yeah, but-”
“Just write! Even if he is still angry – and I really don't think he is – he will understand. You can say that by leaving the clan, you found me. That's! A justification!” They jogged Delta's shoulder in time with their words, their tone relentlessly bright.
Delta wasn't convinced. But Neven was right – one good thing had come from his ill-fated trip to the Court to kill Xandra. If he hadn't gone, Neven would have been lost forever. Emboldened by this justification (an excuse, really, but he didn't like to think that way), he picked up his pen again.
Dear John,
It's me, Delta. I'm alive and in the Starfall Isles and I need your help. Well, President Robin needs your help. Her spies saw the battle you had with the cannon fleet in the bay and she wants you to do it again but with the rest of the cannons. I know this seems like a lot but this is the closest anyone's ever gotten to beating Rezann and if he was gone the world would be a much better place. Come to the citadel on the north-western coast. It's fine if you don't want to, also. I know it's a lot to ask.
Goodbye. Maybe I'll see you soon?
Delta
(p.s. tell dad I'm sorry)
That worked, he decided, reading over it again and again. Short and to the point.
He folded the letter and slotted it into the envelope. “Okay, let's go and find those messenger birds Robin was telling us about.” The birds in question were bred for rapid postal service, so hopefully the letter would arrive at its intended destination within a few hours.
The military barracks was made up of large grey buildings around a square courtyard. Large banners hung above each door covered up the moth emblems with Robin's own crest. In one corner of the courtyard was a fenced-in area where the birds were kept.
The master falconer rolled up Delta's letter and attached it to the leg of one of the birds.
The bird made it about two hundred feet before being shot out of the sky.
“Ah,” the falconer said, as Delta's hopeful expression withered away. “It looks like the Commander doesn't want us to send any messages.”
An empty no-man's-land divided the citadel from the army surrounding it. The sound of thousands of dragons crossed the invisible border-line – voices shouting and hammers thundering and weapons clanging. The army had been there for almost a week and from the noise it was making, it was doing its utmost to prepare for battle.
“What'll we do?” Delta said in undertone, taking Neven's hand. They simply shrugged. The other option had been to get a dragon to fly out, but that was far too dangerous. Nobody would agree to it.
As Delta continued to worry, the noise outside rose dramatically in volume. Drum-beats rippled through the air, followed by a sound like some kind of woodwind instrument. Then a shape appeared in the distance, framed by cloud. A pearlcatcher was flying towards the barracks, one of the purple moth banners streaming from its grip.
For one wild moment, Delta thought the battle had already started. He didn't know whether to grab Neven and escape or shapeshift to meet the intruder. It was lucky that he didn't actually get around to doing anything, because apparently this was a pre-arranged visit. As the pearlcatcher came in to land on the courtyard, Robin herself strode out of the main building, surrounded by her retinue of advisers and captains.
The pearlcatcher landed and bowed to her, wings spread in deference. “It's good to meet you, President Robin.”
“And you,” Robin said, nodding curtly.
Neven shrank back, then tried to hide behind Delta, their ears flat back. Delta obligingly shielded them from sight, but it was too late. The pearlcatcher had spotted Neven. A ripple of shock passed over her face.
“General?” she said, raising herself to peer over the heads of the crowd. “General Neven?”
Robin's eyes widened and she shot Delta a sharp look. Delta hesitated, and was about to speak when the pearlcatcher shook her head.
“The Commander will know of this, but that's not why I'm here,” she said firmly. “Robin, I believe we were to negotiate? I'll start by saying that we have no desire to destroy our own home, and a battle will do that for sure. The Commander is not without mercy.”
As the negotiations began – long, tedious, and so opaque that he hardly understood a word anyone was saying, Delta took Neven's hand and unobtrusively left the courtyard. Robin was insisting that she would not surrender without a fight as he pushed open the door to the dormitories, and she paused to cast him a look that promised that she wasn't finished with him yet.
And she wasn't. An hour later, when the pearlcatcher's departing wingbeats were still making the windows rattle, Robin burst into Delta's quarters.
“Is it true?” she said. There was a quiet stillness in her anger that did not bode well. “Am I to understand that your imperial friend there is Wind General Neven?”
“No,” Delta said quickly, putting the table between himself and her. Neven, who sat on the top bunk, pressed themself back and out of sight.
Robin continued to watch Delta. His defence crumbled. “I mean, yes? Kind of?” he said. “Neven hasn't been in the army for years now. They're not the general any more.”
She dragged her hand down her face and closed her eyes briefly. “Can I trust you two?” she said quietly.
“Yes,” Delta said, meeting her eyes. “Yes, I promise. We're on your side.”
As the anger dissipated from her face, her expression became thoughtful. “I did hear that the Wind General was to be replaced. That the old one went missing.” She watched Delta for a moment, then transferred her gaze to what little was visible of Neven. “The gods were on my side the day you showed up, Delta. Not only have you brought me Xandra's pet battlemage, you have given me a fighter who might be capable of taking down Rezann.”
Neven couldn't stay silent at that. They clambered down from the bunk and faced Robin, their shoulders square. “I will not fight for you. I don't do that any more.”
“Yeah,” Delta said, “sorry, President, but we really can't-”
“No,” Robin said, holding up her hand. “I understand completely. You turn to pacifism to assuage your own guilt at what you did in the past, under Rezann's command, right? You must also realise, in your heart, that it's nothing more than wilful selfishness.”
Delta flinched a little, his stomach churning. She was right – and not just about Neven. She was right, she was so right, and no amount of nice behaviour would wipe away what Delta had done under Xandra's rule. Surely Neven felt the same?
But Neven was shaking their head.
“I can't,” they said faintly. “I can't do it again.”
“You could rid the world of a tyrant,” Robin said. “Or you could sit here and make daisy chains while we all die. It's your choice. Let me know if you change your mind.”
And she left.
Neven didn't say anything for a long while, shuddering from head to tail. Then, without a word, they sat down on one of the beds, turned their back to Delta, and cried.
