147 - His Tea Growing Cold, Unsipped

Kyrus Talain rode into the teeth of Prime's defenses, reins of his warbird clenched in his teeth. The road was laid along the faint track of his first foray and was still solid but he knew that would change.

A flock of security harpies spiralled out of the sky down on him and his spymaster, and he flung spears of light, conjured out of his own coding one, two, three, a dozen, but the flock was thick as lice on a warbird. Behind him he heard a heavy 'click' and then Dukir launched something so encrusted with grandfather's touch he could almost see the fingerprints piled one on another.

It roared up into the screeching flock and before the heavy beat of its wings could blow them all away it opened up its jaws and sucked them all into itself, like a boy licking up honey bugs scraped out of a hive, and then burst itself into a hundred fragments that fluttered down slowly, the code blizzard already behind them

*Good one,* he said quietly. No need to shout, in code, however much he wanted to. He didn't even need to spit out his reins, though he'd done so, by reflex.

*Thanks, Radiance.*

*It's Kyrus, Dukir. If you can't manage that, call my ass shiny but no more titles... all right?* He set his teeth in the leather again and they plunged forward along a suddenly rising road.

 *You got it Shiny Pants.*

Kyrus nearly choked on his reins, laughing as he ducked under the vicious swing of a gigantic fixed scythe that was planted in the centre of the road. All of code rocked with an impact, in both worlds. The scythe tree flailed its limbs and scrambled its roots, trying to stay steady and continue attacking them at the same time. He flung an axe into its roots and then set it aflame rather than try and cut it down one stroke at a time.

Code rocked again and the scythe tree cracked across just above its roots, where the axe burned, but one limb fell between them with a thunderous crash, making Dukir's bird howl as one of its feet was slashed off.

*Are we close enough for me to grab that code?* Kyrus spat out his reins a second time, tied them around his saddlehook and bellowed back over his shoulder at Dukir who was trying to make his bird hold still to accept a mechanical foot.

*Nope, hold still you endarkened thing.*

Another quiver through code and this time a tear made a firey hole that crisped edges and let in a glare of light from the other world.

Kyrus couldn't take his attention off the road or it would vanish under them, send them tumbling into the maelstrom that made up the code world, and Prime's dragons had awakened, pulling their ponderous heads up and up and up, wings spreading out, overlapping, covering the sky. One roared and it shook code almost as much as the bombardment outside.

**

Prime raised his teacup to his lips and felt the first tremour of something wrong so strongly that he checked to make sure the surface of his tea hadn't actually quivered.

“Immoderate Fortesque.” He turned his head toward where his faithful Immoderate Captain stood, like a cool, dark statue.

“Yes, Font of All Knowledge?”

“Arrest my son, Perrin, immediately.”

“As the Font wishes.”

Always a fast response, he thought complacently to himself. As always I'm more than one step ahead of the young pup. He thinks he can kill me? Hah.

He was interrupted a second time, his tea growing cold, unsipped, as emergency reports and alarms began going off in his head, wildly enough that he had to blink for a moment, just to continue to function properly and in a civilized way, outside of code. He rose and his court rustled to its feet as well. “As you were,” he said. “We shall be privy for a small time. As you all were.”

They sank into curtsies or bows as etiquette demanded, holding their heads lowered as he swept out of the room, to his couch where he could sort out the shrilling of computerized alarms in his head, in peace.