Kip was standing with them, looking like he was wound tight enough to thrum.
“I’m not going with you today,” Gavin told Ironfist. He didn’t bother lowering his voice. Let the Blackguards overhear. He was asking them to risk their lives. “I’ve other work to do that may give us some slim chance for victory. Probably not, but it’s worth trying.”
“Can I send anyone with you?” Ironfist asked.
“Not for this. I won’t be in danger, though. Not physical danger anyway.”
“Kip?” Ironfist asked.
Gavin turned and looked at the boy, who was eavesdropping and making a small attempt at pretending not to be. “Kip, you can’t come with me. Not for this. You can make up your own mind about whether you want to go with the Blackguards to sink ships.”
“I’ll fight, sir.”
Yes, you will.
“High Lord Prism?” a thick Blackguard asked. He was an orange/yellow bichrome named Little Piper. Gavin nodded for him to continue. “Will you look at a design we’ve put together?”
Gavin followed them over to a pile of munitions. Someone had designed great disks, bigger than a shield, with a grenado’s trigger mechanism. Gavin didn’t understand.
Little Piper pushed a tiny woman forward. “It’s Nerra’s design,” Little Piper said.
She wasn’t even one of the Blackguards who’d gone with them yesterday. She had to clear her throat twice before she was able to speak. “From hearing the stories, I figure the best advantage we have is that we can close quickly.” She showed how the disk had teeth and red luxin on the bottom. “The driver brings the sea chariot right next to the ship, and the archer slaps this onto the hull.”
Gavin took a breath. It was brilliant in its simplicity. But the design wasn’t right. The disk could be hardened at the back so that most of the explosive force went into the hull. And there was no way you’d want such a short fuse on an explosive this powerful. And it needed shrapnel. And the red on the back side needed to be covered with a thin layer of yellow that could be stripped off just prior to placement so the red didn’t lose its stickiness and so the disks could be stacked. Then the sea chariots would need to be-He was getting ahead of himself.
He started calling out for the items he needed, and the Blackguards delivered them promptly. Then Gavin made two different designs, one lighter and one heavier. He hefted both. The heavier one packed more explosive power, but power was no good if you couldn’t get it where it was needed. He handed them around.
“The heavier,” the Blackguards agreed.
Gavin gave them instructions then and they made a line, the Blackguards copying the backplate and filling the reservoir half full with nails and musket balls and forming the hooks. Gavin made the fuses and the yellow and red luxin mixture to fill the reservoir. A couple of reds applied the right amount of sticky red luxin to the backs, another drafter put a tiny layer of lubricative orange on top of that, and Gavin covered it with a thin plate of yellow.
“Hullwrecker,” Gavin said, barely pausing as he checked that the fuses on every one were drafted correctly. Then he climbed down the rope ladder to the sea chariots and drafted a place for the hullwreckers to be stacked, and an extra support to keep whichever Blackguard placed the explosive from tumbling off the back of his own chariot. He’d replaced the sea chariots that had been destroyed yesterday, and even drafted extras. Today, fifty Blackguards would be able to head out at once.
“Well done, Nerra,” Gavin said. She looked embarrassed. “You’ve saved a lot of lives today.”
“But my lord, you made it a hundred times better.”
“So I saved lives, too,” Gavin said. “We’re a team, right?” He smiled at her and she blushed.
Gavin moved to get onto his own sea chariot. It was slightly modified from the earlier versions. Another experiment. He was always experimenting. A young Blackguard was standing there to hold the boat steady when Gavin pulled it loose of the rest. It was Gavin Greyling.
It felt like a sledge hit the center of Gavin’s chest. He met the eyes of the young man who’d lied to save his life. “I’ll try to be worthy of it,” Gavin said quietly.
The young Blackguard said nothing. His face showed nothing.
Gavin got on his sea chariot. He wanted to give more orders and advice to Commander Ironfist, but the man knew what he was doing. He would do the maximum damage with the minimum loss of life possible. He didn’t need Gavin to tell him how to do that. So Gavin left.
He sped across the seas, which today were a great deal calmer than they had been yesterday. That fact alone would probably save more of the Blackguards than Nerra’s and Gavin’s invention.
For Gavin, it didn’t mean much except that his trip was somewhat smoother and faster than it would have been.
The sun was past its zenith when Gavin turned the skimmer into the bay at Seers Island. He could see that his seawall was still in excellent order, and there were dozens of fishing dories out in the bay. People waved at him, greeting him like a returning hero. There was a town on the shore now, the jungle had been pushed back, and alongside temporary shacks, more permanent buildings were under construction. There were even farms.
The change was profound. Gavin wasn’t sure why he was surprised, but he was. He hadn’t even been gone very long, but he’d helped establish the fundamentals. They’d warehoused the tens of thousands of yellow bricks he’d made, and they’d obviously been putting them to good use. Fifty thousand people with purpose, good leadership, and all the tools they needed could do a lot of work in a short time. What didn’t surprise him was that the Third Eye was waiting for him on the beach.
Being a Seer must be terribly handy.
Which was why he was here. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought of it sooner. He was going into battle and he’d spent-perhaps wasted was more accurate-several days scouting out their positions. While he knew a Seer. A True Seer who didn’t couch what she saw in mystical jargon and vague pronouncements.
Gavin beached the skimmer and jumped lightly onto the sand. The Third Eye was dressed in a simple white dress, belted with a golden sash. She’d once said that she was usually modest. It was, he’d come to see, actually true. She held a hand out, and Gavin kissed it. She smiled, delighted, and Gavin thought there was something softer about her this time.
“My apologies about last time,” she said.
“My lady?”
“If I spoiled your marriage for you, the last time you washed up on my beach. I try to not ruin futures for people, but I was under some stress. I make mistakes.”
Gavin looked at her radiant face and was glad she had reminded him he was a married man. He was terribly in love with Karris, but this woman tugged at him on several layers beneath the rational. “Me, too,” he said. He knuckled his forehead. “Just exactly how much do you…”
“Hold on, Corvan is right down on the pier. I think he’s been so busy he may not have seen you come in.”
She offered her arm and he took it, escorting her through the crowds. The people noticed, and they stared, and many of them bobbed their heads to both of them, but Gavin knew this kind of deference. It was the kind of respect men on campaign give to their general. The protocol peeled back to its bare, necessary layers. These people were hard at work, and they had worked alongside the Third Eye for months. They adored and respected her, maybe loved her, but they had work to do.
And she had no bodyguards now. That spoke either to an unprecedented level of peace here or perhaps to her prescience. Hard to kill a Seer, one would guess.