Ventus by Karl Schroeder

Karl Schroeder / Ventus / Page 619
She stood, one hand on her lower back. "There must be
something to eat in this forsaken place." She bundled her
shawl around her shoulders, and left the house.
"Fine. You eat. You survive," said Galas. She closed
her eyes. "Leave me here tomorrow."
"No," said Armiger. "We have much to do."
"What?" She sat up. "What is there left to do? I’ve lost
everything! My home, my people, my honour, my crown!
Men and women have died by the thousands to bring me to
this. They died for no reason. And now the jackals have the
kingdom. They’re all quislings for the Winds, and they’ll
sacrifice their own babies rather than defy them."
"I intend to tame the Winds," he said. "I need your help."
"You are insane! I was a fool to believe the things you
told me. You are the very swindler I thought you to be." She
rolled herself into the bedding, turning away from him. After a
few moments he heard her weeping.
Armiger rose, and went outside to see to the horses.
The clouds had swept away again, and it was cold again.
He stood for a moment looking up; no telltale moving stars
betrayed the presence of starships in orbit. Ventus remained
miraculously untouched by the march of Archipelagic
civilization. He could only hope it would remain ignored long
enough for the metamorphosis he now knew he must perform.
Megan was crouched in the street, digging up a skeleton.
"I think we can salvage some of these clothes," she said. "A
piece here and there. Many of the women were... well, their
clothes were removed before they died."
"See what you can find." He moved past her.
Megan touched his arm. "Where are we going?" she
asked. "Or don’t you know?"
He nodded. "The Titans’ Gates. It’s by the ocean."