Opinicus by K. Vale Nagle

Author:K. Vale Nagle [Nagle, K. Vale]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781643920467
Publisher: STET Publishing, LLC

23

Bees

Word that the king had sent out three of his darkstalkers was both good and bad, to Rybalt’s thinking. Good because if there were only three left, the Abyssal Naze had been effective at thinning the enemy’s numbers. Bad because they complicated his own plans.

Hunting an opponent with impressive night vision and echolocation was a tricky proposition. There was nowhere Rybalt could hide where the creature couldn’t find him. And once the alerted to Rybalt’s presence, it would flee and return with an army.

Before the salts were gone, the Nighthaunt had been freer with his darkstalkers, sending them across the world to serve as his assassins. In a sense, Rybalt had a kind of professional relationship with his colleagues from across the desert. He respected their capabilities, and they respected his.

Respect between assassins was measured in how many contingency plans Rybalt created before they next crossed paths.

After Crestfall, the few remaining darkstalkers had been withdrawn. Or, if not withdrawn, moved out of reach of the Reevesbane’s talons. He’d long suspected there had been one hiding around the Crackling Sea to help minimize deaths from owl gryphons. Though once the taiga gryphons’ eyes turned blue, the smart thing would have been to evacuate the darkstalker north.

Night vision is much more useful when a large number of your enemies don’t share it.

Kia’s intel suggested the king was using them defensively now. If Rybalt were in charge of managing the darkstalkers, he knew where he’d place them. He’d keep one close at all times. He now knew they’d sent one to clear out the cave gryphons, probably thinning out all gryphon prides along the plains. But that third darkstalker would need to be guarding the supply lines.

Hence his current plan. While he and Iony chatted and ate, he’d set a very peculiar kind of trap.

Not far away, there was an abandoned mining camp. Inside it were two motmots who could manage a fairly reasonable Argent Heights accent. They sat in the dark, their paws hidden under a blanket, and followed a long script Rybalt had written himself. In it, they talked about a rebellion within the enemy’s ranks. They talked about certain opinici under Reeve Silver who would lead the rebellion.

It was all nonsense, of course. But they’d been ordered to sit and read the script to each other all night, every night, for the past few days. The information was vague enough Rybalt hoped it would attract the attention of a lone darkstalker and not, say, a small army. So far, it had not borne fruit, but he was a patient opinicus.

Iony, however, was not a patient gryphon. “Why are there so many bees? I can’t sleep anywhere during the day with all of that buzzing about.”

“It’s a forest, Iony.” Rybalt sighed. “There are going to be bugs. Just be grateful they sleep at night.”

The glacier gryphon’s unhappiness was visible on his face, and the rest of him. Shaved, sunburnt, slightly singed from saltpeter. He wasn’t a happy gryphon. Bees were just the latest problem.

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