The Cinder Spires: The Aeronaut's Windlass by Jim Butcher

The Cinder Spires: The Aeronaut's Windlass by Jim Butcher

Author:Jim Butcher [Butcher, Jim]
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf
Tags: Fiction, Action & Adventure, Epic, Steampunk, Fantasy, Science Fiction, Adult
ISBN: 9780698138001
Google: z3nMBgAAQBAJ
Amazon: B00TY3ZKFY
Publisher: Roc
Published: 2015-09-29T07:00:00+00:00


Chapter Thirty-four

Spire Albion, Habble Landing, Ventilation Tunnels

Rowl, Littlemouse, and the slightly odder-than-usual human girl walked in a circle of Naun’s hardiest warriors, half a dozen big, battle-scarred toms, most of whom were nearly Rowl’s size.

Each warrior wore a pair of fighting spurs—curved metal blades fashioned by humans and attached to leather cuffs that wrapped around a cat’s rear legs. The spurs were sharp enough, when used properly, to be more than a little dangerous.

Rowl felt that the escort was largely symbolic. None of them were his match, spurs or not, and Littlemouse, of course, was both armed and an exceptional human, with strength that had even impressed the halfsoul, Benedict. It would take a dozen experienced warriors, at least, to bring down a human like Littlemouse.

Rowl growled in his throat. The first to try it would not live long enough to touch her.

And that was what this was about. Naun had extended his hospitality and with it his offer of protection—to Rowl. He had made no such offer for Littlemouse and Folly. Clearly Naun had no love of humans, for which Rowl could hardly blame him. As a matter of history, cats had usually come to regret entanglements with humans. Humans were fickle, prone to changing their minds without warning or reason. There were very few reliable human beings, even with the half-souls among them—which was why those such as Littlemouse and Wordkeeper were so very exceptional. It was why no sane cat allowed kits to come anywhere near human beings. Humans seemed to feel that it was perfectly acceptable to teach kits to accept food from their hands as a matter of course, rather than teaching them the importance of hunting skill and selfreliance.

Once one had to depend upon someone else for food, one had to depend upon someone else for life itself. To give humans such power over cats was an abomination, but it was far from the only indignity or injustice that humans had meted out over the centuries—including active hunts of cats, at times, blaming them for things no cat would have done for any reason, attempting to poison their food supply or their water. Cats and humans regularly clashed in places where their understanding of the local human population was incomplete, and mutual pain was the inevitable result of such a breakdown of basic comprehension. If Naun had suffered through something like it, or if those he cared for had suffered, it could easily drive him to irrational hatred of even exceptional humans like Littlemouse.

There were only a few reasons Naun would send them from his territory on a course so different from the one they had taken when they arrived, none of them pleasant. Certainly, Rowl thought, Naun meant for something to happen—something of which he did not (and perhaps could not, if Folly was correct) speak aloud. Rowl’s instincts kept repeating calmly that Naun intended to expose them to some kind of danger.

Which was perfectly fine. Rowl could handle any reasonable amount of



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