Ventus by Karl Schroeder

Karl Schroeder / Ventus / Page 697
semaphore.
It was windy here in the foothills. The moons were
depositing the army here partly because the air was so
treacherous nearer the Gates. Of course, a two-kilometer
sphere made its own weather to a degree, and a dozen of them
were an entire weather system; the White Wind had confided in
him that this just made things worse, because weather was
inherently unpredictable. The skins of the moons rippled under
sudden gusts, and lightning played around their crowns almost
continuously. They electrified the air and then pulled it around
themselves with invisible fins, the bast had said. With so many
of them all together, their electric fields interfered. Add steep
mountain peaks into the equation and things became frankly
dangerous.
He was counting on that.
A bast stepped up to him. It wasn't the White Wind--that
one was away investigating the burning thing that had landed.
"We have found them," said the bast. "They are making for the
monastery, as we suspected. Your men will take the trails
directly there and capture them. We will accompany you."
"They're going to get there first," he said. "And that
place is highly defensible. Why don't the swans go in and get
them?"
"Not an option," said the bast. "You will go."
Lavin shrugged. "I guess you’re right. The desals would
cut the swans to pieces."
The bast bridled. "You will not question our orders."
"I will where it concerns my men. Listen, we are too far
back here for me to command them. We need to get this moon
over the valley--or better yet, over the peaks themselves. We
could lower a battalion using the Heaven hooks, come on them
from above. They have no way to defend against that."