A Challenge for the Sky by Marc DeGeorge

Author:Marc DeGeorge [Marc B. DeGeorge]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: MuseMarc Studio LLC
Published: 2022-10-06T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter twenty-six

It is not uncommon to have setbacks.

Four of us walk through the dark but warm corridors of the abbey on our way to the room where Inyoni has been staying under guard. After waiting two days for the sub-director to be ready, I could not stand to be idle any longer. Karima and Chi tried their best to distract me with everything from sightseeing to having tea in a secluded part of the forest. All it did was focus my mind on what we weren’t doing. It was good, then, that Inyoni came to the same conclusion as me.

While the abbey is not open to men, I gain exception because of my position and the current situation. It is still odd to me to be surrounded by so many women. But when I brought it up, Chi reminded me that two-thirds of my crew, or former crew, was female.

Rather than wait around, Borio flew the Swallow back to Trappist for repairs. He will return with a new ship and two new squadrons—eleven Nezuhmy ships to protect us after whatever Niandara and I decide to do. There have never been so many Icaroplans flying in formation for any reason. I hope that they never meet an opposing force of equal power. Too many of us have already died in battle. A fight on this scale would be a massacre for both sides.

“Do you think she is ready?” Chi asks me.

“She called for us, so I would suspect so.”

“We must press her if she is not,” Karima adds.

We arrive at the door to Inyoni’s room, where a young priestess stands vigilant. Her eyes snap open as she spots us, and she quickly bows to Karima and her mother. I know it’s not for me. I am viewed as a pariah here. The priestesses, especially the younger ones, consider me the man who corrupted Karima’s loyalties. And even though Shifrat has done much to dispel that notion—she even threatened to discipline anyone who slandered me—it is a challenge to convince the strong-willed young women here that I am not a threat.

The priestess opens the real wooden door—an extravagance, even here—into a large but sparsely decorated room. A well-padded but small bed is pressed into the corner, while a chest and mirror is centered on the opposite side. Other than that, there is a composite desk and chair along the back wall. There are no windows. Only a single light in the middle of the ceiling illuminates the room with a cool glow.

Sub-Director Inyoni, dressed in a casual robe of the priestesshood, stands as we enter. The smile on her face is strained, but I think it is only because of the situation. I am sure the Drakhen have treated her well. She is likely eager to know about what we expect to do with her.

So am I.

“Director,” Niandara says, stepping toward Inyoni. “I am Niandara al’Drakhen, high priestess of the clan. Do you know why I am here?”

“Hopefully to listen to what I have to tell you,” Inyoni replies, clutching her hands together in front of her stomach.

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