“Where is it?” Lapis whispered, facing skyward. The stars blinked between puffy grey clouds, and the moon swam in a soft white glow, but neither produced enough light for her to distinguish anything above street level.

“Just across from the gate, hovering above the top of the house.”

The house? She considered it another mansion; while the place had a long, bush-lined walk instead of an extended drive, its enormity indicated a wealthy family owned it. She studied the roof; blinking lights reflected off the snow on the pitched roof that protected the front door and entry, but did not see the metallic body against the dark sky. “I see a blue glow. What do you want to do?”

“Have you go back to the gate and talk to the guards. Hopefully that will distract the operator so I can take it out without problems.”

As if she had a choice. She could not see the thing to strike it. “Be careful.”

“I always am.”

No, he wasn’t, but she would call him on it later. She reached over and squeezed his arm before clicking her tongue at Jumper; he headed down the street at a brisk trot, eyes wide. Had he caught her anxiety? Hopefully the mansion’s stable proved a safe place for him. If something happened to her and Patch, she wanted him to make it through without mishap.

“Hey!” she called, pulling her mount up in front of the gate, close enough that her leg almost brushed the cold bars. Jumper snorted and pawed, and she patted his neck and cooed. The bikes remained in front, so the sentries should still be there.

The key guard hopped out of the shack, a deep frown marring his face. “You’re back?”

“Yeah.” She leaned over as he drew near. “Patch is taking out the nuisance, then we need to talk. There’s a tech vehicle with khentauree inside coming this way—and they aren’t associated with the rebellion.”

“Khentauree?” he asked, confused.

She put her finger to her lips for quiet. “The half-horse, half human mechanical beings you probably heard about.”

“I thought those were stories,” he whispered as he opened the gate.

“They’re not—and Meinrad and Rambart should have told you that.” They knew, didn’t they? Even if they disregarded street rumors from Jiy’s ex-rebels, Perben must have told them who aided their escape from the palace.

Jumper moved inside, nose flaring, twitching, and Lapis patted his neck again. He sensed something. The bird? No, he and the mare had exited the estate without incident, and the flying device had already arrived.

“Heard about Fools and Ghouls,” he said as he shut the gate behind her, but did not lock it. “Some of Meinrad’s staff went. They said they saw giant lizards and grey-skinned humans with horse legs. Sounded fairy tale-ish to me.”

“There are street stories in Jiy talking about both, long before Fools and Ghouls. It’s strange, to see—”

The explosion was loud; Jumper started and spun, but did not flee. Someone had trained him well. Lapis petted him, using soft words to tell him he was a good boy, over and over.

The smoking wreckage pitched into the snow between the gate and the house, breaking apart into tiny fragments. The gate guard raced to the destroyed tech and kicked snow over the body until Patch led his mount up, concealing most of it but for a few foul-smelling plumes rising from the remains.

“Woke the people inside,” her partner said said as he trotted through the gate. “Oops.”

Of course. And if they had guards, they would send them to investigate. Hopefully they kept inside when the vehicle showed up, because she doubted their enemy cared about witnesses. The key guard pulled the gate shut, the clang startling the horses, and locked it with a loud click.

“It’s OK,” Patch said, his voice low, calm, as he set his jug down and stroked the mare’s nose. “We’ll be away from the scary noises in a moment. Meinrad have defenses?”

“Yeah,” the second guard said. “Teivel made certain they worked when we arrived.” He shoved his tight knit hat up his brow, agitated.

Jumper moved in his direction, turning and almost decking the key guard with his rump.

“Hey hey hey,” she whispered, stroking his shoulder. “Good boy, calm down. It’s OK. Good boy.”

“How about the gate?” Patch asked as he mounted.

“Buzzed. It’s strong, but not up to rejecting a Dentherion vehicle. It’ll take them a while to get through, though.”

“We’re not going to leave you here,” she said. “Buzz it and let’s go.”

He hustled into the shack while the key guard mounted behind Patch; the crackle of lightning startled the horses, and they shied away from the humming gate. Streaks jumped from one bar to another, a sight that would frighten tech-shy locals into leaving the mansion alone, though she doubted it would have stopped palace regs if they raided.

It would not stop the khentauree.

Jumper snorted and pawed; she stroked his neck while Patch directed his soft, calming voice at his mare. She, too, danced around, jittery.

More than one voice echoed from the interior; the man blew out the lamp and exited, holding a small, square device that the Blue Council rebels used for short-distance communications. She slid her foot out of the stirrup and offered a hand; he made it behind her without much fuss, and Jumper only moved a tiny bit to the side.

“Good boy,” she whispered; his muscles twitched under her hand.

“Nyal says to go to the back stable,” he said, pressing the gadget against his chest as the horses took off, eager to be away from the gate. “He’s not sure Teivel can convince Meinrad and Rambart about the danger in time.”

“Death by khentauree isn’t fun,” Lapis muttered, running through the scant phrases she knew in Taangin. Hopefully the khentauree listened to her, and the enemy had no idea how to motivate them into attacking again.

Cyan flashed from Patch’s patch, then blinked in a furious circle. Whatever he detected, it was not good.

The key guard pointed to a side path just beyond the entrance to the yard, and they took it; someone had haphazardly shoveled it, leaving squeaky snow behind. The mansion’s interior lights peeked through the drapes, but no exterior ones lit their way. Good thing she still had a functional fruit oil lamp swinging from the pole. The horses were excited enough; they did not need darkness to add to their anxiety.

The path led directly to the stable, a better-illuminated building with an open door leading into a swept dirt corridor with stalls lining it. Heiden waited for them, hands in pockets, speaking to an anxious stablehand rubbing his gloved hands together.

She heard snorts and whickers from anxious horses inside. Her tummy sank; they had not left whatever spooked their mounts at the front gate.

Or whoever. She guessed the khentauree were closer than she assumed.

The man behind her slid to the ground. Jumper danced away from him, and the hand caught the reins, cooing at him. She dismounted, concern racing through her. They did not have much time left, and she doubted their defenses would be enough to deflect a khentauree assault.

“Do you have anything to make my voice loud?” she asked.

“I think we have one of those yeller tech things to talk over crowds,” the key guard said as he used Patch as a brace, swung his leg over the mare’s rump, and dropped to the trampled snow. “Why?”

“If we face khentauree, they’ll listen to Taangin commands. I know a couple, but I don’t know if I can shout loud enough for them to hear.”

“That’s a better plan than I have,” Patch said as he dismounted. A stablehand took his horse; she stamped and whinnied, and he had a time calming her.

“It won’t work on any humans with them, so come up with something else quick.” Lapis hugged Jumper before handing her reins off. If anything happened to him, whoever harmed him would meet the tip of her purple beam.

“If you take the khentauree out, we might not have to worry about them. They might just run away.” Her partner circled the edge of his leather patch. “Vehicle’s reached the gate and stopped.”

Wondrous.

“Close the stable up,” Heiden said, then jerked his chin, and the key guard ran into the house. “We don’t have a tech shield,” he told them as he ushered them into a side door, avoiding the men punching spikes into the ground and putting metal poles in the hole. “Just more of the buzz nodes on poles. We don’t have time to ring more than the main front and back doors. We can bar the others, and there are metal shutters for the windows.”

“How long will it take to put the shutters in place?” Patch asked.

“Too long.”

Not what she wanted to hear.

The key guard whisked to them as soon as they entered the hall, holding a dented silver cylinder with a handle and flared end. Lapis accepted it; she had played with her father’s yeller once as a child, and his rebuke over her high-pitched screams sat forever in her naughty childhood memories. She was fairly certain the stablehands found all the horses who shied and fled from her enthusiastic yells. They had it good; the rest of them had to listen to the dogs howl until someone brought them good-boy snacks.

“Thanks.” She turned it over; crude handwriting near the buttons said press yellow to speak, blue to turn off. Hopefully it worked as intended.

More men in regular clothing ran through the corridors, carrying metallic boxes to the front door. Heiden skirted the ones lugging heavier equipment and pelted to another side door. The cold slap of air hit them, along with the exasperated complaints of the butler as he snapped at Nyal. The angry man had donned a fur-lined maroon coat that reached his knees, but he still shivered in the night air. He must love yelling, to leave the warmth of the mansion for a confrontation.

“How did Meinrad and Rambart survive with staff like this?” Lapis asked. If the group rushed to erect defenses, why think they did it for fun and giggles?

“Lots of help,” Patch told her.

The butler rounded on them, his eyes gleaming. “What is this?” he hissed, motioning at her with a jerk of his hand.

Lapis scanned the erected poles; they had yet to finish the half-circle, and she hoped they did so before the khentauree arrived. “Barrier to save your ass,” she told him, even if she doubted the height would prove a deterrent. He reared back in affront, and she grinned wide. “Don’t worry. The enemy will have to go through us to get to you, if you go back inside.” She clicked the button to turn the yeller on, and it squealed loud enough everyone shivered.

The butler smashed his lips together, jerked at his lapels, and stalked into the mansion. Good luck to him, interrupting the meeting. If Perben had not convinced them danger lurked far closer than they assumed, why did he expect he would do better?

Two spotlights clicked to life and flooded the yard. A bush crackled and wobbled without the push of wind right after; the trembly outlines of invisible khentauree moved forward. Dammit, they were already there!

She sucked in a breath. “MEKOT!” she screamed.

The astounded cries of disbelief from the ex-rebels saturated the air as the khentauree froze and their outlines rippled around them, much like a wave of water rushing across a smooth rock. Heiden’s sharp bark animated them, and they erected the poles with fearful enthusiasm.

The wave moved.

“Kredi un Siscousige Lanth! Mekot! Medoaa keethem ba vara!”

Four khentauree flickered before returning to their nearly transparent state. She could not get a good reading of how many filled the yard, but the glimpse of their visible forms concerned her. Why the mismatched parts? Two had small heads on larger torsos, uneven arms, and one had a chassis that did not look like the horse and deer-shaped ones. Where had it come from?

A roared command erupted from the shadowy lane. She could not see him, could not understand his words, but cyan whirled in the khentauree foreheads, the transparency unable to hide the response. “Mevoto dees!” she yelled, fear trickling through her. Hopefully it did not reach her voice; if it trembled, she doubted they would listen to her.

Another command came from the lane, and instead of shutting down, the transparency fell from the front line. Her gaze flickered over eighteen beings who stepped in unison towards them, cyan lights blinking across their bodies. Uh-oh.

“Kredi un Siscousige Lanth! Dosi nak ussur. Medoaa keethem ba vara.”

Eight whirled and retreated, picking up speed; more than one limped away. Were they damaged, or were the legs as uneven as the arms? May the non-existent gods curse the humans who forced the attack on them. She did not want to take out a mechanical being who had no choice but to follow terrible orders.

The eight did not respond to the harried voice originating from the lane, and carried themselves away. Ten remained.

The buzz poles activated. A lightning wall ringed the entry stairs, casting the far edges of the yard in a yellow light; the brightness revealed still-transparent khentauree ringing them. The men finished unfolding wooden stands that propped up square metal shields and lined them up as a second defense. Not good enough, as the khentauree could leap over or punch through them. She had to convince the others to stand down.

“Lanth.” Patch slipped something around her ear and bent the fuzzy speaker part to her mouth. She lowered the yeller and fiddled with the bud as Sanna’s voice blared through her head.

“Lanth. Tell them ‘E’.’”

“Eeth thi!” More, hidden in the trees, dropped their invisibility and froze in place. The shouts from the lane increased in volume, but they did not respond to it—at least, for now. She lowered the device and covered the mouth with her palm. “That worked,” she whispered.

“Good. Now ‘jorprok, mevoto dees’.”

“Jorprok, MEVOTO DEES!”

All transparency dropped. The khentauree knelt in unison, bowed their heads, their arms going limp, and the cyan glow in their foreheads faded in all but two. They had the darker grey bodies of military khentauree, but mismatched bands.

“Sanna, there are two left that I can see, and they have blue stripes on one arm and cyan on the other. There might be more; they were using invisibility when they arrived. Most of them look like normal khentauree, too, not military.”

“That . . . is not good. Say ‘pivs acord’.”

She yelled the words at the same time the shouter issued another command. “Shit!” She slammed the yeller into her leg. “Um, Sanna, the military ones disappeared. I don’t even see wobbly air.”

Sanna growled, and the hair rose on Lapis’s neck. “Foolish, to refuse orders.”

“There’s another human commanding them, but I can’t make out what he’s saying. I told them I was a siscousige. Should I try that again?”

“Yes. Remind them.”

Tech fire struck the buzz poles; Patch grabbed her and they ducked behind a metal plate, a poor shelter from a motivated khentauree. Heiden hid with them, a tech weapon clutched tightly in hand. Most of the other men had swords or knives, and while effective against humans, they would not matter much against an enemy who could strike them from a distance.

She winced as melted snow soaked through her pants and chilled her legs, and crouched so she could peek over the defense without getting more wet.

“Kredi un Siscousige Lanth! Eeth thi!” She could see no chassis through the flare of exploding light. “No good, Sanna. They're still striking the buzz wall posts.”

“Tell them ‘fruiklur dees.’”

The attack halted at her shout. Another command from the enemy, and the cyan glow in their foreheads spun faster.

“OK Sanna, they’ve stopped, but their foreheads are still active.”

“Say ‘Noungiklur dees’.”

She shouted the words; their heads brightened. “No good. The lights increased in intensity.”

“They do not believe you are a siscousige, or they would follow your orders.”

The tech beams struck a pole and the buzz wall sputtered and shed sparks as it rocked under the attack; she ducked down. “I guess not,” she muttered.

“Be imperious, Lanth. Say ‘Kredi un Siscousige Lanth. Kere orrked pruth aned shere.’”

Lapis pointed the yeller skyward and screamed into it; she refused to peek again, not with a khentauree waiting to strike her. Sizzles came from the buzz wall, and she doubted it would hold much longer.

“Good. Now ‘frear savveed procousige.”

The attack halted. Another shout from the lane, and it began again.

“Sanna, they follow my orders, but then the other guy shouts at them and they follow his orders.”

“It is fine. We are here.”

A Swift flew into place just above the roof and hovered, red lights zipping around the bottom as a panel opened on the side. Cyan struck but fizzled on its tech defenses. Barrels rotated on top and fired high; sure enough, they aimed for the lane and whoever issued the alternative commands.

“Don’t attack the khentauree on our side,” Patch shouted as a grey body, then two others, jumped from the craft and hopped down the snow-laden roof. The Swift continued the assault, and hopefully drove the human commander far enough away, the Ambercaast khentauree could take care of the situation.

Sanna lightly landed next to them, Ghost’s sprites coursing around her so fast, they blurred into white streaks. That he came filled Lapis with dread. What had Patch’s emergency call said, that he determined they needed him? Not that she would dismiss his help, but he was Ghost.

“Stay back,” she commanded as she trotted to the buzz wall. Lapis peeked around the corner of the panel; what was she doing? “SHETYOW.”

The khentauree, as one, lifted their heads. Cyan beams raced from between the shadowy trees and to the wall, striking through the current. The tiny spheres obliterated them before they touched Sanna. Funny, the could have done that earlier, and did not. That suggested they were of the literal kind following explicit orders, and not the Gedaavik-coded, unpredictable kind.

“Cover your ears,” Sanna commanded.

What?

She shrieked.