Things You Can't Get Away From

Brochwel waited until he felt the mask grip him before he looked up. This was possibly the worst place to stop. Facing a flying opponent on flat, open terrain, next to a low wall and many vines that would impede him and Tecca but weren't high or thick enough to hide in.

He did count one good thing: he didn't recognize this odonaran. She had four glassy damselfly wings that could move independently, which thrummed at a blur keeping her aloft. A touch taller than Tecca (ignoring wolf ears for this comparison), almost every inch of her was covered by green chitin plating that sheened bronze where the sun reflected. A duller cream color outlined the edge of each plate segment, and covered most of a few of them. Brown eyes that were human enough, but from the corner of each began a compound eye that wrapped around the side of her face, tapering just before her ears. Her hair was brown, pixie cut, not quite long enough to conceal the three small compound eyes where her eyebrows would have met. She wore the simple, fitted halter top and shorts that most odonarans had adopted once they discovered that pockets with buttoned flaps were actually pretty great, so maybe clothes were worth a little aerodynamic drag.

The odonaran stood easy, relaxed, even though her feet weren't touching the ground.

"This isn't an arrest, but try something stupid and it will become one. I am Aoda Eouzan, a temporary officer with the Rhosarian Royal Patrol." Her tone was more relaxed than Brochwel had expected. Debonair, even. "State your names."

Time to find out of the false identities Tecca had prepared would hold up. Tecca answered, "I am Tescelina Gigot. This is my attendant, Baltasar."

"Gigot ... any relation to Baron Gigot?"

"His niece."

Tecca had told Brochwel that Baron Gigot was a reclusive noble in the far north of the empire. Large extended family and not prone to answering the door or letters quickly.

"Present your documents."

Aoda zipped over to Tecca's side and took the sheet of parchment dripping with wax seals and insignias the moment Tecca offered it. As the odonaran studied the document, Tecca glanced between Brocwhel and the hilt of Cambadr with a 'what are you waiting for' look.

"Do the thing," Tecca whispered.

To start a fight, Brochwel would have to bring his horse around Tecca's. "I can't do the thing, she's too far away."

"Do the thiiiiiiing."

This was an enemy who could just fly up a bit to be out of his reach. The Flaxen Order had brought bows or javelins and knights who could do magic to every battle, but even then the engagement plan against odonarans had always been 'fill the air with enough projectiles that something eventually connects.' Their reputation for speed and agility was well earned. A major part of Brochwel and Macsen's job had been helping the knights and warriors form a defensive formation when odonarans joined a battle. They usually didn't show, but when they did, the Order always took casualties.

"Paperwork seems in order," Aoda said as Brochwel and Tecca snapped out of their whispering lean. "Can you tell me why you galloped for the trees just now?"

Brochwel coiled the reins in nervous hands. He answered in a stilted voice, "A w-wasp stung my horse and ... he bolted. Miss Gigot matched pace so we wouldn't be separated."

"Hmm ..." Aoda landed and leaned on the shaft of her polearm as if it were a walking stick. "I guess they have been worse this year. Now, perhaps you can help me solve a little mystery."

"Encountered this little guy a few hours ago. Didn't have a message tube with an approved seal." The odonaran unbuttoned a small bag strapped to her thigh. "Traced his direction this way while looking for suspicious behavior, like avoiding the perfectly good roads."

From the bag, she produced Tecca's hawk. She held it by the wings, and it dangled limp and lifeless. A few feathers showed dried blood. Brochwel went rigid.

"Now, it looks like a Le Marchant's Hawk, but it wasn't flying like one. Summoning birds is a favorite among spies. You." Aoda's wings blurred back into motion and she whipped around the pair of horses to sit on the vineyard wall by Brochwel. "Familiar with this hawk?"

"No, miss."

"You reacted when I revealed it."

"I just wasn't ready for you to suddenly pull out a dead bird."

A contemplative frown crossed Aoda's face, then it flipped into an easy smile. "Yeah, guess that was kinda gross and shocking. You the squeamish type?"

Brochwel managed a weak nod, which seemed right to him since he was supposed to be playing some kind of servant. 'Baltasar' would have spilled more wine than blood over his career.

"Sorry about that." With a shrug, she said, "Well, I guess I've done as much investigation as I have to."

Magic circles unfolded over the tips of Aoda's fingers. Jets of blue flame erupted out, incinerating the small hawk's corpse. Not a feather or talon escaped cremation.

"And I can check off clean disposal." Then she looked at Brocwhel with sorrow and hopped off the wall. "Ah, sorry. I was thoughtless again. Fire must be traumatic for you."

For a hot second, Brochwel didn't understand what she meant as she reached out and touched his face. Personal space! Personal space you frea ... then he remembered how his face looked in the mirror that morning. The mask made it look like old scar tissue occupied a third of his face. He hadn't offered an explanation for it, but Aoda seemed to have assumed it was an old burn.

He let his hand slip toward Cambadr. Finally close enough. There would be no dodging and he could aim between the chitin armor segments easily. But in the field behind Aoda, the people harvesting the grapes had stopped to watch. Brochwel caught himself.

Brochwel turned his face away and out of her hand. "Don't worry about it."

"If that's all, we'll be on our way," Tecca said and gave the reins a little flick. Brochwel put out a hand to stop her, which got a little 'hmpf!' in response.

"Where you headed, friends?" Aoda asked.

"Maurcoret," Brocwhel answered and Tecca kicked his foot for doing so.

Aoda saw Tecca's sour look. "D'aww. Is someone a little jealous?"

"Over him? Never."

"So ... you're saying he's single." Aoda chuckled at her own joke, then launched off the wall, leveling in a hover twenty feet up. "Until next time!"

She flew off, cutting toward the thunderheads that loomed to the northeast. It took just a few seconds for Aoda to be distant, and a few more to veer north and vanish behind a stand of trees.

"I can't believe you told her where we're going!" Tecca rode out ahead. "Is she your type?"

Brochwel urged the pack horse to catch up. "Tecca! I'm sorry. I thought being cagey about our journey would reignite her suspicion. Giving another destination and later being spotted heading for Maurcoret would do even more damage."

"Why didn't you slice her while you had the chance?"

"The farmhands were watching. How do you think they would take seeing three people just talking in a friendly manner and the one of them suddenly slices another open?"

"I suppose it would shock them. But she's the enemy and we're under false names. It wouldn't get back to us."

"'Won't get back to us,' that's what the Flaxen Order thought about violating Kirrlgos's borders for the last raid I was part of. And ... a lot of other things."

Learning from the Flaxen Order's mistakes was useful, but that might not be enough to lead whatever unit Tecca and Kirrglos had in mind to victory. He had still thought in the Order's terms about the person in front of him for most of that exchange. Something to work on.

For a while Tecca didn't say anything. A puzzled look rested on her face until inspiration struck and she needed to borrow his back as a writing board again. They stopped among the trees, where she removed his mask and told him to sit still. For a while the reed pen scratched out accompaniment for a tiny songbird with a rosy belly.

"You still haven't answered my question: Favorite white wines. Which."

Ah. Another thing Brochwel wasn't getting away from so easy. He tried to remember drinking talk overheard years ago.

"It's ... porter."

"Porter is beer!" Tecca hurled her reed pen into the creek. "When the war is over, if we're both alive and can stand each other, you are getting a thorough education."

As they set off again, Tecca got a head start on that education, beginning with a lecture on the varieties and certain notable vintners contributing to the supremacy of Maurcorean reds.