Ventus by Karl Schroeder

Karl Schroeder / Ventus / Page 233
Jordan said, "the Heaven hooks are after me! I’m not
Calandria’s servant, or Axel’s apprentice. I’m just a workman.
But I’ve been cursed, and the Winds are after me. They’re
tearing the manor house apart because I’m down here! If I
leave, they’ll stop."
"If that’s true..." August didn’t finish, but Jordan knew
what he was thinking. August believed him. It was best for
Jordan to go out there, and if he wouldn’t go voluntarily, he
should be forced. And yet, from the look on August’s face, he
had no love for the idea.
Could it be that August felt some sort of loyalty to
Jordan, because he had saved the man’s life? Ridiculous.
Other people were worthy of such admiration, but Jordan knew
he was not.
He had no time to think about that now. Renewed
crashings sounded above them, and deep thuds which seemed
to be coming nearer. "Listen," he shouted over the din, "Lady
May says mecha are a kind of machine. If the Heaven hooks
are like the mecha, maybe this will hide me from them."
"Then they will go berserk for sure," said August. "But
anyway, the Winds are different from live things, and different
from machines."
Jordan shook his head. "Maybe, maybe not. Anyway,
I’ve got no intention of just disappearing." He told August his
plan.
Thousands of kilometers above Ventus, a thing like a
bird sculpted in liquid metal heard Calandria’s call. The
Desert Voice was named for the voice of conscience that had
driven Calandria from the employ of the men who had trained
her. The Voice knew the origin of her name, and was proud of
it and of her mistress. When she heard Calandria’s call she