Chapter 4

Dawn's soft light illuminated the Sunrise Valley as the Celestial Sprite flew above it, forward and aft gunners on standby to defend against any attack. Honovi stood at the prow beside his father, gloved hands gripping the metal railing as he squinted into the rising sun behind his brass goggles. The breeze of their passage was cool, though Honovi knew the weather would warm up the later it got.

"You and Blaine were right," Alrickson said, his words stolen by the wind. "We should have listened."

Honovi knew the Comhairle nan Cinnidhean's remorse was useless in the wake of the damage that had been wrought, but his anger would help no one. So he kept silent, and his father bowed his head.

The Compass Air Force Base was stationed north of Glencoe, situated not far from the banks of the River Esk. That waterway flowed from the Eastern Spine into the valley floor, streaming north to the wide mouth of the river that poured into the Northern Sea. None of the airships patrolling their borders had seen the danger before it struck. Honovi didn't know how long the Urovan submersibles might have been stalking their waterways, but there was no denying E'ridia had been caught unawares.

Some airships had been able to launch amidst the attack, circling back over the River Esk to hunt the perpetrators. Many Urovan submersibles had managed to escape the aerial bombardment, though some had been destroyed, the remains sunk into the river. But E'ridia's air force had more bombs than depth charges, and that lack had left them reeling in the aftermath.

Enough evidence had been pulled from the river as proof that Urova had been behind the attack. With what everyone knew about their alliance with Daijal, it was easy to see where the true orders had most likely come from, even if no one had any solid proof. The Urovan ambassador, when summoned before the Comhairle nan Cinnidhean, had professed ignorance of the attack and offered shallow condolences for E'ridia's dead. The answer had not been anywhere near enough to appease anyone, and the Urovan ambassador and their entire diplomatic corps had been summarily expelled from E'ridia last night. They'd been given less than a day, all while under guard, to close up their embassy in Glencoe and leave the country.

The Comhairle nan Cinnidhean was now on its way to see the damage done to the country's premier air force base and largest repair yard, located adjacent to the base. The cinn-chinnidh and their jarls were flying on separate airships of different makes to ensure if another attack occurred, the core of E'ridia's government wouldn't be completely wiped out.

They hadn't been the only country attacked in such an underhanded way. Blaine had called late last night with the shocking news that the Solarian Legion would now have to split their forces, sending only half as many promised battalions into Ashion for the war efforts because of an attack in Solaria. Apparently, Rixham had fallen, and the Imperial emperor had no choice but to defend Solaria from the internal threat of a massive horde of revenants.

"The Imperial emperor promised Caris the alliance would not break," Blaine had said when Honovi was woken from a brief nap in his father's office to take the call. "But I don't know how much longer he can keep that promise."

Soren and Lore were still missing, with no word on a ransom or any evidence of who had taken them. That, coupled with these two attacks, lent credence to the simmering accusation that Daijal was behind the disruption happening on a global scale. For Honovi could see how each attack was a precision cut into the supports that could have shored Ashion up in the face of war.

The airship juddered against the cables connected to the balloon as they began their descent. In the distance, the horizon was hazy, smoke lingering still from fires that had taken hours to put out through the night. The destruction that eventually came into view was devastating, the sight tearing a wounded noise from Honovi's mouth.

E'ridia had a dozen air force bases scattered throughout the country—within the Sunrise Valley, amidst the coastal hills, and tucked away in the jagged teeth of the Eastern Spine, all of various sizes. Of them all, the Compass Air Force Base was their main training airfield, as well as where many of their war airship squadrons were anchored when not on assignment elsewhere.

Just yesterday, it had been a thriving outpost, the base safely walled off with the airfields stretched around it. Now, as the Celestial Sprite and others drew closer, Honovi could see that some portions of the outer wall had been damaged or outright destroyed, putting their defense against revenants in jeopardy, to say nothing of the smoking airfields.

The burned husks of airships smoldered in their anchor berths alongside ruined hangars. Those closest to the river had taken the brunt of the attack, while some areas farther inland had escaped, their anchor berths empty, the airships hopefully having been able to launch. Honovi wouldn't know for sure until they landed and met with the command staff on the ground—whoever had survived.

"Sirs, you'll want to be in the cabin for the final descent," a crew member said from behind them.

Honovi pushed away from the railing, his father following him to the crew cabin situated behind the flight deck. Their shadows stretched away from their feet across the decking as they maneuvered past the crew on duty, the rising sun warm at their backs. Every aeronaut went about their duty with a grim sort of focus, the only sound that of the wind from their passage through the sky and the thrum of the engine in the air. No one seemed inclined to banter right now.

They reached the crew cabin and strapped in for the final descent, the pressure change in Honovi's ears something easily regulated. The air grew a little warmer, too, but Honovi didn't remove his fur-lined flight jacket. He'd opted for trousers over a kilt for today's excursion, as had the rest of those in government. His father had chosen to wear his plaid like all the other cinn-chinnidh and their jarls. The colors represented Clan Storm, the length of it falling to the ground as a symbol of his rank.

The airships carrying the Comhairle nan Cinnidheandescended into the areas of the airfield that had taken the least amount of damage. Ground crews worked diligently to securely anchor each airship and help those on board to disembark. Honovi let Alrickson precede him down the gangplank to the intact pier, both of them nodding at the aeronauts in military uniform who greeted them with salutes.

The pier was long enough, and enough anchor berths had been cleared, that all the airships transporting the Comhairle nan Cinnidhean and their heirs were able to land without issue. A select number of reporters from the press had been allowed to travel with them, and Honovi did his best to ignore the pops and flashes of light from those set to document the travesty. It felt disrespectful, almost, but they needed to document the horror for history.

"I wish I could welcome the Comhairle nan Cinnidhean under better circumstances," Admiral Kyrre said, his weathered face lined with fatigue and smeared with soot around the outline of where brass goggles had covered his brown eyes. His uniform wasn't much better, but he carried himself with the carriage of a lifelong military man.

"No one ever expected such a tragedy to occur," said Anneli, the new ceann-cinnidh of Clan Lightning. Her predecessor, Leena, had survived the attack on the governing body by Gregor last year, but it had taken a toll on her health. She'd elevated her jarl to oversee Clan Lightning, and Anneli had taken up the position with a gravity Honovi could appreciate.

Quite a few people glanced in Honovi's direction, but no one said anything. He bit his tongue and let Kyrre lead them toward the outer wall of the base, his voice carrying as he pitched it loud enough to hear.

"We have wardens onsite guarding the damaged sections of the outer wall and engineers working to clear the debris in preparation for a rebuild," Kyrre said.

"How long will that take?" someone called out from behind Honovi.

"Not quick enough to ease anyone's anxiety, but they're working on it."

"And the damage?" Alrickson asked. "How many war airships did we lose?"

Kyrre grimaced, the look he cast over his shoulder grim and tired. "We're still finalizing the count, but more than half that were anchored here."

"And aeronauts?"

"Not everyone has been accounted for yet. I'll take you past some of the damage for you to see."

Honovi swallowed his anger at the thought of the lives lost, knowing it was still far less than the number Ashion had mourned so far. But seeing the damage up close and personal drove home the loss in a way a report over a wire could not.

Everyone was silent when they passed through the city gate into the base, the smell of burning metal and oil still thick in the air. It made Honovi's hand twitch toward the gas mask hanging off his belt, but the admiral hadn't indicated it was necessary. Half a dozen motor carriages waited for them past the wall, though Honovi wondered about their practicality amidst the damage. Still, some of the cinn-chinnidh wouldn't be able to trek the breadth of the base on their own, and so he climbed into the motor carriage that Alrickson chose.

Traveling the streets that wound through the base was an exercise in caution as the drivers maneuvered through debris and past damaged buildings. While most of the attack had focused on the airfields, some of the bombs had targeted the infrastructure. Kyrre led them past the outskirts of some of the damaged sections, the bombed-out remnants of buildings being attended to by rescue workers. Bodies lined the street, clothing used in place of funeral shrouds to wrap the dead.

Honovi clenched his hands into fists over his knees as he stared out the window of the motor carriage, taking everything in. Alrickson was silent beside him, head craned toward the damage, expression impossible to read outside the grief in his eyes. They didn't linger, continuing onward. Only one inner wall existed in the base, surrounding the administrative buildings of the air force, and that, at least, was still intact, even if some of the buildings in the outer neighborhood were not.

"The Urovans had new long-range weaponry we weren't prepared for," Kyrre said once everyone had been transported to the forecourt in front of the officer's building. "They aimed from the river and never came on land, but they didn't need to."

"How come no one saw their approach?" Clan Lightning's jarl asked. "For the amount of damage done, the attacking force must have been large."

Kyrre, while put on the spot, didn't take the question as an insult to the aeronauts under his command. "No one had any idea that Urova would invade us in such a way. E'ridia hasn't been targeted like this in at least an Age."

E'ridia, Honovi knew, lived by isolationist tendencies in past Ages, but Maricol was too connected these days for that to be a viable answer. It had little to do with the numbers and everything to do with how complacent E'ridia had become as a whole. He cleared his throat, loudly, drawing Kyrre's attention. "Were any Urovans captured?"

"Some, though they're all wounded."

"We'll want to speak with them," Alrickson said.

Kyrre nodded. "That can be arranged after our meeting. Please, follow me."

They were led into the building, down hallways lit by gas lamps, aeronauts in uniform scurrying about with tense expressions on their faces. Kyrre brought them to a utilitarian room with an oval table covered in maps. The windows were closed to keep out the smoke, and the ceiling fans were on their highest settings in anticipation of another hot day. A warden waited for them in the room, along with other officers. The officers all stood and saluted the Comhairle nan Cinnidhean, but the warden showed no such deference, remaining seated with a map close at hand.

"I think the most important item on the agenda is our country's aerial capabilities in the wake of this attack. Where do we stand?" Alrickson asked once everyone had taken a seat around the table. There wasn't quite enough room, with some jarls and lower-ranked officers forced to sit behind others at the table.

Kyrre's grim expression was answer enough. "We're lucky none of our other bases were targeted, but that isn't saying much. Those ones are smaller and further inland, not located near waterways. Many of the airships down for repair were destroyed, along with a high percentage of the war airship and aeroplane squadrons assigned to the base. Our air force wasn't destroyed, but it was crippled in that we lost airships along with many of the next generation of aeronauts and some of our best fliers."

It was similar to the attack on the Warden's Island, and Honovi couldn't help but glance at the warden, who sat stone-faced on the other side of the table. It was sometimes difficult to know a warden's age, but this one looked to be younger than him.

"What of our forces in other bases?"

"Intact and on alert. Patrols have been stepped up at our borders, but so far, no reports have come back about incursions."

"We summoned the Urovan ambassador last night, but they purported to know nothing about the attack. We as a whole expelled them from the country," Anneli said.

They'd done the same last year to the Daijalan ambassador after the attack on the Warden's Island. Having no avenues of communication open with another country was never advantageous, but after everything that had happened, Honovi couldn't see anyone believing what the Urovans said.

"Trade will be at issue once again," someone down the table warned.

"Trade is the least of our worries," Honovi said before anyone else could argue for or against it. "We all know who is truly behind the attack on our sovereignty, and continuing to ignore that fact sets us up for another attack and the distinct possibility of being invaded. Only next time, if Ashion has fallen, we'll be squeezed on both sides, with Urovan submersibles in our waves and the Daijal army in our land."

"The Eastern Spine would stop them," an officer on the other side of the table protested.

Honovi leaned forward, staring him down, fighting back his fury. "Can you be absolutely certain of that?"

It was telling that no one spoke up.

In the silence, the sound of the warden getting to his feet drew everyone's attention. He settled back on his heels and took in the room with a sweeping glance before speaking. "It is the governor's opinion that the attack on your air force base and the attack on Solaria's city are meant to distract both countries from the war effort in Ashion. We find it suspect that the Imperial emperor agreed to an alliance and sent his Legion to the Ashion queen and then these attacks occurred. While E'ridia has offered no alliance, the preemptive nature of the attacks must be called into question. The governor believes Eimarille is behind what happened yesterday in both countries the same way she was behind the attack on us wardens last year."

Honovi was glad to see the wardens reinforcing the argument he and Blaine had repeatedly brought before the Comhairle nan Cinnidhean, but it didn't make him feel any better about the situation at hand. He rose to his feet as well, commanding everyone's attention. "Eimarille has ambitions that will not stop at her border. The Comhairle nan Cinnidhean must see that now and must act in the best interest of E'ridia."

"You and your husband have been proponents of war for some time now," Kele, ceann-cinnidh of Clan Sky, said evenly.

"We have not," Honovi pushed back. "We have been a proponent of ensuring our sovereignty in the face of an enemy who lies and schemes for power. If our Seneschal being turned into a rionetka was not enough to face the threat, then this attack must be, or what excuse will you give to the clans for why we are doing nothing?"

He had to fight not to raise his voice, but he couldn't stop himself from the forcefulness of his words. If the Comhairle nan Cinnidhean did nothing, Honovi feared their country wouldn't survive to see a new Age.

Alrickson stood, the sound of his chair scraping across the floor causing Honovi's head to snap around. "The Age of Separation gave us our countries, and the wardens mapped our borders and guarded them for centuries. E'ridia has never sought war beyond our borders, even if we have fought amongst the clans. But E'ridia does not hold with debt bondage, and we cannot ignore this attack inflicted on our people.

"I admit, I have been reluctant to believe my son's persistent belief that Daijal was a threat to us. I thought the strife between Daijal and Ashion had no bearing on us, despite the fact we share a border with one of them. We as a people put our faith in the Eastern Spine and the revenants that hunt amongst its valleys and peaks to hold back the rest of the continent. So much so that we never saw the threat from the sea because Daijal made allies with Urova, and we assumed we would not be targeted. We were wrong. My son and son-in-law were not. The Dusk Star delivered Blaine to us when he was a child, and my clan took him in. His road has led him back to Ashion, and my son follows. I think it is time E'ridia follows as well."

"You wish for us to vote on war?" Aslaung, ceann-cinnidh of Clan Mountain, asked.

"I wish for the Comhairle nan Cinnidhean to protect E'ridia. If that means allying ourselves with Ashion and Solaria against Daijal and Urova, then so be it. Queen Eimarille might have sought to cripple our air force, but we still have airships to fight with." Alrickson looked down the table on both sides, meeting his contemporaries' gazes. "What say the clans?"

For a moment, the room was silent. In that quiet, Honovi thought his arguments hadn't been enough. That the terrible isolationist ways would win out. Then everyone at the table pounded their fists against it as if they were beating a drum in prayer and he let out a heavy breath, looking to his father. Alrickson nodded decisively before retaking his seat. "Then let us vote."

The military officers and jarls had no say in the votes cast by the Comhairle nan Cinnidhean. There was no need for a Seneschal to send a declaration of war up to them, not when the laws of E'ridia gave the Comhairle nan Cinnidhean the right to declare it on their own. This time, when the war drums would sound, it wouldn't be for a clan-on-clan fight but one that would pitch E'ridia into a fight Ashion was desperately trying to win for them all.

It was the one bright spot in a horrifying aftermath, but it eased something deep within Honovi as E'ridia rallied itself for war. He wanted desperately to relay the news to Blaine but knew the official announcement had to come from the Comhairle nan Cinnidhean to Caris.

His father leaned toward him, braid sliding over his shoulder with the motion, the ranking hair adornments there catching the light. "E'ridia has no ambassador for Ashion at this time, but I rather think we'll need one for this fight. I'll put your name forth to take up that mantle again after we contact Queen Caris and notify the Imperial emperor of our intentions. I know asking you to stay in Glencoe would be futile."

Honovi inclined his head. "I will do what my country asks of me."

And if walking that road led him back to Blaine, so much the better.