05 Dragon Blood: The Blade's Memory

by Lindsay Buroker

  “Arelia, you’re a woman,” Colonel Porthlok said.

  “Clearly, with all of your intelligence training, nothing gets by you,” General Chason murmured.

  “Is it conceivable the queen would choose Therrik for itch scratching? We were debating about this earlier.”

  “You were debating it,” Arstonhamer said. “With yourself.”

  “If he’s not sleeping with her, could he be blackmailing her? Or otherwise coercing her somehow? Why is she talking to him instead of going through the chain of command?”

  Furniture scraped, then something fell over. “I’m right here in the room with you, sir,” Therrik growled. “And I’m not blackmailing anyone. I told you, I’m loyal to the king.”

  “Now, now,” Chason said, her voice more soothing. “Therrik isn’t without his merits. He’s very firm.”

  Ridge curled a lip. This conversation had taken an alarming turn. He hoped they would go back to discussing politics and not… firmness.

  “But the queen… if she was going to have a mistress. Er, a mister? She could have anyone, you’d think. Would you pick Therrik over anyone else?”

  “If I were the queen? I suppose strictly on looks, I’d go with that Major Meriak in intel, or Zirkander, if he was around.”

  Ridge was not sure whether to be pleased or alarmed that General Chason knew who he was and thought he was pretty. Alarmed probably. A faint sigh came from beside him. Tolemek was probably rolling his eyes. Or scowling at him. Or both.

  “But she’s surely not making her decisions based on looks,” Chason went on.

  “Surely,” Colonel Porthlok agreed dryly.

  “It sounds like she wanted control of the flier squadrons. This was a rather unsubtle way to gain that control, but I can see why she would find Therrik more malleable than General Ort.”

  Therrik growled something. It might not have been a word.

  “Unless she tried to pick Ort first,” Chason said, “found he wasn’t amenable, and that’s why he disappeared.”

  General Arstonhamer sighed. “We all need to be wary of that. He’s not the only officer who’s gone missing.”

  Ridge’s ears perked. Oh? Who else had disappeared? And had any clues been left as to where? Maybe Ort and all of the other kidnap victims were with the king.

  “You think the queen knows anything about that, Therrik?” Arstonhamer asked.

  “About where the king is? No, she talks a lot about missing him and being worried she won’t see him again.”

  “We need to find out who’s really in command in that castle,” Porthlok said. “I’ll try to talk to Colonel Forsythe in internal security again. All he said last time was that he had teams investigating, but he was tenser than a ramrod, so I don’t know if someone had threatened or blackmailed him too.”

  “Ahnsung isn’t around, is he?”

  “The assassin? No idea.”

  “Someone should check. He’d work for the Cofah if the price was right.”

  Ridge believed that, but he didn’t think there was any way Ahnsung could have beaten them back home. Most likely, he would have had to find passage on a merchant ship leaving the island. Even if that airship had returned to pick him up, that would have been a slower ride than the fliers. Still, Ridge wondered what questioning him would reveal. Someone had given him that giant sword and told him where to find the dragon.

  A chair creaked, and one of the men yawned.

  “Enough for tonight. Therrik, if the city gets attacked while you’re in charge of the hangars, you better be ready to pull magic out of your ass.”

  Therrik did not respond, or maybe he responded with a glower. Footsteps sounded, then the front door opened.

  Tolemek prodded Ridge in the shoulder. Telling him it was time to try and escape? From under the bed, Ridge could not tell if those MPs were still out in the yard. Nor was he certain Therrik had gone to the front door. He might have a perfect line of sight of his back door. There was not enough glass missing from the window that they could climb out that way.

  More footsteps sounded, making Ridge glad he had not moved. They were near the kitchen.

  “Don’t let them upset you, Vann,” General Chason said softly. “We’re all frustrated and irritable right now. Members of the District Council are on their way to the capital to determine if an interim ruler needs to be put in place, since the queen isn’t qualified to lead a nation, and Angulus never produced any heirs, but we would all rather find the king. They’re right in that we can’t risk appearing weak to the Cofah, not now, not when they supposedly have all of these new intelligent weapons.”

  “I know,” Therrik said, his voice sounding more tired and defeated than angry—it was the first time Ridge had heard that tone from him. “Porthlok should have teams out looking for him.”

  “He has some out there, but he has to worry about external threats too.” Clothing rustled, like a coat being put on.

  “I tried to tell her not to send out so many fliers.”

  “What are they looking for? Not pirates, surely. And Porthlok would have said something if the Cofah were on the horizon.”

  Therrik did not answer.

  Ridge wrinkled his nose, trying to ignore the dust tickling his nostrils.

  “You can’t tell me?” Chason asked. “Even when I defended your firmness?”

  Therrik snorted. For a moment, neither of them talked, and Ridge started to wonder what they were doing until a few kissing sounds reached his ears. A fresh wave of dread curled through his limbs. They weren’t going to have sex, were they? On the very bed Ridge was hiding under? He could not lie here for that, even if it meant risking death.

  But the sounds stopped.

  Therrik sighed. “Witches.”

  “What?” Chason asked.

  Ridge mouthed the same question.

  “They’ve got some tester for dragon blood, and I guess intel has had an extensive list for a while as to suspected witches and heirs to witches. The squadrons were sent to clean out all of the infected communities existing around the continent, kill anyone found guilty.”

  The dread Ridge had been feeling turned to a chill of horror. His people were being sent on a witch-hunt? As some kind of flying death squad? To kill people who might very well be distant relatives to Sardelle? People who, like Sardelle, might learn to use their powers to defend the country if they were trained? People who were subjects of Iskandia?

  “Now?” Chason sounded almost as incredulous as Ridge, if for different reasons. “When the Cofah are working on super weapons over there? Super weapons they’re doubtlessly planning to test on us?”

  “Something must have happened. I’m not privy to what’s going on in the castle, despite what those two think. Maybe something to do with that dragon that was supposedly found. Or Zirkander’s witch showing up and strolling around the city.”

  “Please. Who actually believes that drivel?”

  “Many people,” Therrik said coolly.

  “Most likely teenage girls who are envious that our eligible pilot hero is now taken.”

  “There’s a report from the crystal mines on file. Go look it up. Witnesses saw that woman flinging fire around and deflecting bullets with her mind.”

  Ridge had been afraid a report like that would have been filed. He had done his best to squelch all of the rumors before he left, but Captain Heriton had suspected—and feared—Sardelle from the beginning. It hadn’t mattered one iota that she had saved the entire outpost from death and destruction.

  “I’ll look,” Chason said. “But this is not a national emergency, whatever it is. If there is such a thing as magic, it’s been around for thousands of years.” She made a disgusted noise and headed for the front door. It opened, but she spoke again before walking out. Ridge had to strain to hear the words—it had started raining, and the patter on the rooftop competed with the voices. “What are you going to do when he shows up again?”

  “Who? Zirkander?”

  “Ye
s. Whatever you think of him and his lover, we need him in the sky if the Cofah come. Don’t do anything drastic. Or illegal.”

  “I won’t have to,” Therrik said, his voice almost a purr. “According to my most recent orders, I’m his commanding officer now. If he wants to fly, he’ll do it at my discretion. Maybe I’ll send him to hunt down some witches.”

  Maybe Ridge would borrow Sardelle’s sword to turn Therrik into a eunuch.

  The door finally shut. Any thought Ridge had of Therrik being a gentleman and walking the general home was squashed when his footsteps started up again—heading for the bedroom. Ridge told himself Therrik could not know that they were there, that he would not have spoken so openly if he had, but he couldn’t help but tense.

  The boots entered the bedroom, grinding broken glass with each step. A lantern was set on a piece of furniture, and the straw of a broom dangled into view. Ridge bit his lip and hoped Therrik would prove a lazy sweeper, or think he had more stuff cluttering the floor under the bed than the box digging into Ridge’s hip.

  “Damned rain,” Therrik muttered and leaned the broom against the wall and walked out.

  The back door opened, then closed. Ridge was so surprised that he had gone outside that he did not react at first.

  Tolemek poked him again and whispered, “He must be getting boards for the window. Go.”

  Ridge needed no further urging. He slid out from under the bed. A thump sounded, and he winced. The wooden box had skidded out from under the bed. Tolemek cursed and scrambled out after it, clutching his knee. Even though Ridge knew they had to get out of there, he caught himself staring at the box. It looked as old as dirt with intricate carvings running along the top of it. The lantern did not provide enough light to tell what the pictures portrayed, but his curiosity got ahold of him. He slid the box the rest of the way out and opened it. There was an old iron latch, but no lock.

  “What’re you doing?” Tolemek glanced toward the window. “Push that back. Let’s go.”

  Ridge already had it open. Faded blue velvet adorned the interior of the box, covering a layer of thin metal. Otherwise, it was empty. “What’s usually in here?” he wondered.

  “Probably one of those.” Tolemek thrust his hand toward a wall filled with ancient axes, swords, and maces, much like the walls in the living room. Then he closed the box, shoved it back under the bed, and raced for the front door.

  Ridge chased after him, deciding he was right. As they slipped out of the house and ran to the street, he wished he had found something significant. Even if he had gained information by spying on the meeting, all that information had done was enrage him. A witch-hunt. With his people leading it. Dear gods.

  At the end of the block, Tolemek jerked to a halt.

  Ridge almost crashed into his back. “What?”

  “The canister.” Tolemek patted himself down. “I pulled it under the bed so the soldiers wouldn’t see it, but when I hit my knee on that box I forgot about it.” He spun around, looking toward Therrik’s house.

  “We’re not going back.”

  Banging drifted down the street from the direction of the house. The sound of a board being nailed to a window. Tolemek’s shoulders slumped.

  “It’s a tea canister, right?” Ridge said. “Even if he finds it, he’ll just think the vandals threw it with the rock. He won’t be able to tell it held chemicals.” Ridge had no idea whether that was true, but he tried to sound confident for Tolemek’s sake.

  “That will be my hope. You may be a national hero that your people want to keep in the sky, but I have no such distinction to protect me from that idiot’s wrath.”

  Chapter 5

  Thanks to Sardelle’s tricks for diverting people and Kaika having been to the castle before, their group made it to the upper levels that held bedchambers, a library, and private meeting rooms without being seen. So far, the infiltration had not been difficult, but it had not been swift, either. They’d had to duck into linen closets and lavatories to keep from being spotted, and Sardelle felt the press of time. Jaxi was keeping her informed about the guards searching the rocks. Only two men had gone out, but they had lanterns, and seemed to have a good idea of where to look. It would get much harder to sneak around in here if that tunnel was discovered. Having their only escape route discovered would prove problematic, as well.

  Maybe you can rappel down the walls, Jaxi suggested.

  You didn’t even have faith that I could jump down a ten-foot hole. You want me to fling myself down a fifty-foot wall and onto a bunch of sharp rocks?

  Captain Kaika brought a rope and grappling hook. Perhaps she could carry you.

  Funny.

  “King and queen’s suite should be at the end of this hallway,” Kaika whispered, a set of lock picks in hand. It seemed she had a few ways to infiltrate enemy strongholds aside from explosions.

  “Then I’ll hope we reach it before we have to spend another ten minutes snuggling together in a linen closet,” Sardelle whispered.

  “Snuggling? Is that what you call it when someone’s giant sword is poking you in the hip?”

  “I call it foreplay,” Cas said.

  Kaika had been leading the way as they crept down the hallway, but she paused to thump Cas on the shoulder. “Good one.”

  Sardelle wouldn’t have guessed that Cas had a ribald streak, but perhaps Kaika inspired it in those around her. Sardelle thought about mentioning that when last Jaxi had checked in on Ridge and Tolemek, they had been hiding under a bed together, but sensed the moment had passed. Comedic timing—and ribald joke telling—was alas not part of her repertoire.

  “Watch my back,” Kaika whispered and pressed her ear to the door at the end of the hall.

  Cas did so, reaching for her rifle, but she paused before touching it and lowered her hand. Yes, even if someone charged up the stairs, they could not shoot the person. These were their own people. Sardelle would have to do her best to create an illusion to hide them, which she could do if only one or two staff members appeared. She kept her mind open, watching the stairs that led up to this level and also checking the rooms behind the doors. Some of them were occupied, and it wasn’t so late that everyone was sleeping.

  “I don’t hear anyone,” Kaika whispered. “Sardelle, can you tell if she’s inside?”

  Sardelle had already done a check of the room behind the door, but the suite had a number of interconnected rooms, and she examined them more closely. “There’s a fire in the hearth and lanterns burning, but nobody’s in there at the—” A presence stirred on the level below, a wood boy heading for the stairs with a basket of firewood. They had passed the diligent worker a couple of times already. “Someone’s coming up,” she whispered.

  “How long? I need a couple minutes.”

  As Kaika slipped two slender tools into the door lock, Sardelle searched for a way to delay the boy. He was only steps from the base of the stairs. She could employ an illusion, but if he was delivering wood to the queen’s suite, then he would walk right into them.

  You haven’t given anyone a rash for a while, Jaxi thought.

  I prefer to save that for enemies, not innocent servants.

  When the youth was halfway up the stairs, Sardelle knocked one of the logs out of the basket he was carrying, bouncing it artfully back down to the bottom.

  He’s not that innocent. He and a young female groundskeeper were doing frisky things in the woodshed in the courtyard recently. He’s feeling guilty because he was supposed to be on shift, and he’s hoping nobody will notice that he’s late bringing in the firewood.

  Telepathically intruding, are you?

  I scarcely have to. The guilty thoughts are oozing out of his head.

  When the youth bent to pick up the log, balancing the basket on the steps, Sardelle knocked it over. The rest of his wood tumbled out. She felt bad about harassing him so, but perhaps he would believe the gods were teaching him a lesson for his indiscretion in the woodshed.

  Comparing you
rself to a god? Careful, that’s what got the mundanes up in arms about sorcerers three hundred years ago.

  Yes, I’m certain they were upset that our people were flinging firewood out of baskets all over the continent.

  “Got it.” Kaika pushed the door open and slipped inside.

  Sardelle followed Cas into the room, leaving the youth to gather his wood in peace, but she kept him in her senses, still concerned that he might be heading for this suite.

  “Look around,” Kaika said. “It’s been weeks since the king’s kidnapping, but I heard he was stolen right out of his room, so there might still be clues. And maybe the queen knows something. I’ll check her desk for correspondence. Sardelle, will you watch the door? Warn us if someone’s coming?”

  “Of course.”

  “Are we sure the queen is even in the castle?” Cas asked. “Didn’t you say nobody had seen her? That she hadn’t made any public appearances since the king’s disappearance, and that it’s only hearsay that she’s in charge?”

  “If she wasn’t here at all, I think that’s a rumor that would have gotten out,” Kaika said, “but it’s been several days since Apex and I left to get you. I’m not current on the gossip.”

  “I don’t think they would lay a fire in a room that was going to be empty that night.” Sardelle kept the hall—and the wood boy—in her mind, but walked around the sitting room while she did so, also looking for clues.

  “Good point.” Kaika trotted into the bedroom.

  With lush rugs, elegant upholstered chairs and sofas, and a tea service perched on a side table, the sitting room looked more like a staged area only for entertaining guests than a living space where clues might be found. Sardelle entered an office, conjuring a light to illuminate the walls of shelves and the two desks within. She went to the one with the large doily on it and the knitting basket on the corner, glancing at the bookcases as she passed. Most of the tomes were on military history, geography, politics, and economics, with a few lighter texts behind the queen’s desk, romances and mysteries and craft books.