05 Dragon Blood: The Blade's Memory

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05 Dragon Blood: The Blade's Memory Page 11

by Lindsay Buroker


  The lone figure coming up behind them wore a hood and a tightly wrapped cloak. It had a woman’s slighter form, and his first thought was that this might be one of those people who had been after Sardelle. But then a familiar warmth brushed his mind, and he knew it was Sardelle. She may not have meant it to, but weariness and worry—and a sense of dread—came to him along with that warmth.

  He lifted an arm in greeting, now more worried for her than for himself. And where were Cas and Kaika? His gut clenched. Captured? Worse?

  Sardelle pulled her horse to a stop next to his. “I’m sorry, Ridge.” She sounded miserable. “We were discovered, and Kaika had Cas and me go down the wall first. I was protecting her, but I’d forgotten about the soldiers outside of the grounds, and I had no idea they had explosives. I was distracted and—I’m sorry. They got her. Jaxi said they put her in the dungeon, but she was shot, and I’m worried she’ll be in trouble if we can’t find a way to get her out soon. I almost went back in, but the castle was on high alert by then, and I’d already… they know I was there. We—Jaxi and I—made a big display so we could get away. I’m afraid they’ll know you’re here too now.” She was looking past him, avoiding his eyes as she spoke far too quickly, like a soldier reporting to a superior when he knew he was in trouble. Ridge reached over and clasped her forearm. He was worried for Kaika, but he wanted to let Sardelle know that he wasn’t upset with her. Hells, he would never want her to feel like a junior officer reporting in to him. He did not even feel worthy of his rank after spending his night hiding under another officer’s bed.

  “What happened to Cas?” Tolemek asked, his shoulders tense.

  “She made it out.”

  Tolemek peered down the road behind Sardelle.

  “I thought she was ahead of me. I didn’t pass her on the road.”

  Tolemek shifted in his saddle. “Did you see her get out?”

  “Yes, it wasn’t until afterward that we split up.” Sardelle was gazing past Ridge’s shoulder again instead of looking either of them in the face.

  “Why did you split up?” Tolemek asked. “Were you being followed?”

  “I’m sure Lieutenant Ahn can take care of herself if that was the case.” Ridge wasn’t sure why Sardelle seemed uncomfortable, but he didn’t think she needed an interrogation from Tolemek.

  “We weren’t being followed, as far as I know,” Sardelle said. “She should be fine. She was simply… displeased with me for allowing Kaika to be captured.” Sardelle sounded displeased with herself.

  Ridge groped for a way to reassure her. He was certain that she had done all she could. Maybe Ahn had expected too much. As powerful as Sardelle and Jaxi were, they weren’t gods.

  No, we’re much more useful than gods. We actually care what happens to you mortals and try to help.

  We appreciate it, Ridge responded, trying not to let on that he would have rather had Sardelle talking into his head than Jaxi.

  She’s busy moping. Perhaps you can exchange telepathic endearments later.

  “All right,” Ridge said. “Let’s get back to the house. We can share what we’ve learned and figure out how to move forward.”

  He wondered how long they would have until Kaika was indicted. Her record bespoke loyalty and a willingness to sacrifice everything, including her life if necessary, to carry out her missions for Iskandia. He hoped that would buy her time, that they wouldn’t go straight to assuming she should be shot as a traitor, but with the kind of ordnance she carried around, being caught skulking around the castle would not be good. He nibbled on his lip and gazed back down the road, tempted to turn around and head straight back to Harborgard to turn himself in. Even if the castle incursion had been Kaika’s idea, he could tell them he had wanted the information and that he had commanded her to go. Since Sardelle had been there, they would probably believe that. They might throw him in the dungeon and let Kaika go. Then he could hope they found him too valuable to shoot. He had never interacted with the queen and wasn’t sure how she felt about him. Judging by the conversation the senior officers had had in Therrik’s house, they at least wanted to see him back flying. But, as was obvious from them needing to get their information from Therrik, they were not in command of the city defenses right now.

  “Before you consider anything drastic, I have more information for you,” Sardelle said.

  He wasn’t sure if she was monitoring his thoughts or if the set of his jaw made those thoughts blatantly obvious, but he wasn’t surprised she knew his turmoil. He patted her on the arm. “Right, let’s get to the house. More rain coming, I think.”

  Tolemek kept glancing toward the rear as they continued on. Ridge would not worry about Ahn unless she did not turn up at all that day. None of his team could take care of themselves better than she.

  As they reached the turnoff for his mother’s house, another horse and rider came into view, the thunder of rapid hoofbeats preceding it. This one was coming from the north instead of the city, so Ridge did not worry that it might be someone after them. However, from the uneven hunch of the rider, he thought the person might be injured. He was pushing the horse hard too.

  “Busy road this morning,” Tolemek muttered.

  With uneasiness swimming into his belly again, Ridge stopped his horse to wait. He had sent Duck in that direction to watch the fliers.

  “It’s Duck,” Sardelle said before the rider’s face was visible—dawn was creeping across the sky, but darkness still hugged the farmlands. “He’s injured. Shot. At least twice.”

  Ridge cursed. “I was afraid of that.” He rode forward to meet his lieutenant.

  “Sir,” Duck blurted, his voice pained.

  When Ridge drew up next to him, Duck almost fell out of the saddle and into his lap. Blood caked his face, and he was clutching his side.

  “What happened, Wasley?” Ridge maneuvered his horse around, trying to find a way to support Duck at the same time as they headed for the house. He needed a bed and a healer.

  Sardelle was already bringing her horse around to Duck’s other side. She reached out, laying a hand on his thigh, probably intending to help right away, but she also nodded in the direction of the house.

  “Sir, I tried to stop them, but there were too many.” Duck sounded miserable from more than the pain. “I thought since they all seemed to be women… I didn’t really think they would go through with it. They told me to get away from the fliers, but I didn’t listen. I tried to grab one, would have had her, but then they threw a bomb and started shooting. Should’ve treated them seriously right off, especially when they showed up out of nowhere. So dumb. Wasn’t smart.” He was panting, struggling to relay the story.

  “There’s a lot of that going around right now,” Ridge said.

  Sardelle winced, which made Ridge want to wince. He had been referring to his own night’s dumbness, not anything she had done.

  “So sorry, sir,” Duck mumbled.

  Ridge patted his shoulder, hoping he would settle down. He could tell the rest of the tale when he was feeling better.

  They made it to the house without any more riders streaking out of the darkness, though Ridge wouldn’t have minded seeing Ahn arrive. He had hoped Apex might be back, as well, but knew it would take him time to find any of the squadron, especially if he couldn’t go on base. Belatedly, Ridge realized he might have sent Apex on a fool’s quest. If everyone had flown off on Therrik’s witch-hunting mission, there wouldn’t be anybody in the city to find.

  “The world does not want me to get any good intelligence,” Ridge muttered as he helped Duck from his horse.

  With Sardelle on Duck’s other side, they maneuvered him into the house. A few cats slunk out from under the foundation, meowing. Several more waited inside. Apparently, Mom hadn’t thought it would be a good idea to take her posse with her to Aunt Lavender’s place.

  Ridge tried to steer Duck toward the bedroom, but he reached out a hand and stumbled toward the couch. He slumped down on it with a groa
n, tipping over onto his side.

  “Couch it is,” Ridge said.

  “Saw the quilt on your mom’s bed,” Duck mumbled as Sardelle lifted his legs onto the couch and grabbed a pillow for his head. “Didn’t want to get it all bloody.”

  “You’re a thoughtful patient.” Ridge spotted a note on a table by the couch, a request that he feed the cats twice a day. “That’ll be hard if I’m in the dungeon,” he mumbled.

  “Sir?” Duck asked.

  “Nothing. Relax, Duck. Let Sardelle fix you up.”

  “Good advice,” Sardelle said, sitting on the edge of the couch and resting her hand on Duck’s chest. “Could you get him some water, please, Ridge?”

  She did not ask for bandages or towels, but he brought those too. When he returned to the couch, Sardelle’s head had drooped to her chin, her eyes closed. Duck’s eyes were closed too. He assumed magic things were happening and left without comment.

  Tolemek stood by the front window, his fist to his chin. Ridge scrubbed his hands through his hair—it needed a washing. All of him did. He was lucky Therrik hadn’t smelled him hiding under his bed. He needed sleep, too, but how could he rest now? He could either go back to the castle and try to get an audience with the queen or, perhaps more effectively, the chief of security. Or he could go check on the fliers and see if anything remained of them. Such as the power crystals. Even though Sardelle had left a map at the Magroth Mines to help the men there find more crystals, it took a long time to excavate tunnels and acquire them. He hadn’t had time yet to take her up on her offer of trying to learn how to make them herself.

  He shook his head and paced a circle around the living room. Who in all of Iskandia would want to blow up fliers? They were necessary for the defense of the city, of the whole country. Women, Duck had said. Could it be the same women who had been after Sardelle before they left? Why would they want to destroy the fliers? Even if some organization out there hated sorcerers—not a stretch—they shouldn’t hate their own country enough to take away the most effective way of defending it.

  Ridge halted in the middle of his pacing. Unless they had figured out what the power crystals were and where they had come from. According to Sardelle, they had been light fixtures in the inner mountain headquarters where her people, the Referatu, had once lived. A witch-hating organization might object to that. Still, to destroy something that was helping all of Iskandia… what idiots. Ridge looked over at Sardelle. She would happily help all of Iskandia, too, if Iskandia would let her.

  “Idiots,” he breathed, clenching his fist.

  Tolemek looked over at him.

  Ridge grabbed his rifle and some biscuits and ham from a food pile his mom had left in the kitchen. “I’m going to see what’s left of the fliers.” Maybe some of those women would be lingering at the scene of their destruction, and he could catch one to question.

  Take me, Jaxi spoke into his head at the same time as Tolemek asked, “By yourself?”

  “What?” Ridge asked, not quite sure who he was answering.

  “I’ll go with you,” Tolemek said. “There aren’t any beds in that canyon for you to hide under. You’ll be lost by yourself.”

  He was probably just looking for something to do so he wouldn’t stand there and worry about Ahn all morning, but Ridge nodded, accepting the offer. “There’s some grub in the kitchen. Grab whatever you want. I’ll meet you outside.”

  With me, Jaxi said.

  Why? Don’t you need to stay with Sardelle? Ridge thought of the soldiers who had come by the day before. What if they came back while Sardelle was deep in her healing trance? And why would Jaxi want to come with him?

  Watching Sardelle heal people is boring, and I can help if you find some people to question. I can get in their thoughts without you having to brutalize a woman. Not that you’d probably do that, anyway. I imagine you’d be a wholly ineffective interrogator.

  Ridge would have liked to object, but it was the truth, wasn’t it? When he had first met Sardelle, he had been fairly certain she was a spy, and how had he interrogated her? By folding her towels for her.

  Yes, you’re very tough. As far as Sardelle is concerned, she can rouse herself if someone comes to the door. She’ll be fine against a few soldiers.

  You’re sure it’s all right? Ridge eyed the soulblade. Sardelle hadn’t bothered to unbuckle her sword belt before sitting down next to Duck.

  It’s fine. She knows. Take me.

  For a moment, Ridge imagined a dog running to the door, wagging its tail and wanting to go along on the adventure, whatever it was.

  You think of me like a dog again, and I’ll piddle down your leg.

  Er, can you do that?

  I’m a mighty sorceress. I can do anything.

  Can you do it while being humble?

  That wouldn’t be as fun.

  “Please take her,” Sardelle said without lifting her head or opening her eyes.

  “Is she threatening to pee down your leg too?”

  She didn’t answer, and Ridge felt silly for discussing urination while one of his pilots was injured. Being careful not to disturb her, he unbuckled the belt from Sardelle’s waist. He kissed her on the top of the head and walked to the door, trying to decide whether he felt relieved or guilty that he hadn’t had an opportunity to tell her about the witch-hunt. Or both.

  She won’t be surprised, Jaxi thought, her tone one of glumness rather than the usual irreverence. The world has changed much.

  Yeah. Ridge didn’t know what else to say. He wished it could be a better place for Sardelle, but he did not know how to make that happen.

  The horses were standing in the flowerbeds outside, still saddled, probably waiting for a rub down and food rather than another ride.

  “Sorry, fellows. Short trip, then I’ll take care of you.” He did not know where Sardelle had collected her mount, but his had come from the army fort. It was much easier to head out than it was to get in. When he and Tolemek had ridden through the back gate with hoods pulled over their faces, the guard had not questioned them.

  Tolemek walked outside with a small canvas sack that implied he had done a more thorough job of selecting food than Ridge had. Probably wisely so.

  “Was all that food for us? The ham? The biscuits? The bread? The cheese?” Tolemek asked, swinging up onto the horse.

  A meowing cat reminded Ridge of his mother’s note. “I think we’re supposed to share it with the cats. Twice a day.”

  Before climbing onto his horse, he took out a couple of the ham slices he had grabbed and tore them up, dropping them in a pile by the porch.

  Tolemek gazed down the road toward the city again before they turned north, but there was no sign of Ahn.

  “She’s probably walking back,” Ridge said.

  Tolemek nodded.

  They passed farmers out doing chores on the way north, and Ridge waved whenever someone looked in their direction. He kept his cloak around him and the hood up, so he didn’t think anyone recognized him. Maybe it did not matter anymore. If Sardelle had been recognized in the castle, people would indeed know he was in the area. Whoever had attacked Duck had clearly known they were back already.

  “How do people keep finding us, Tee?” Ridge asked. “There’s nothing trackable about the fliers themselves, unless someone could detect the crystals somehow. But it would take a sorcerer to detect something magical, wouldn’t it? And an organization that’s trying to get rid of sorcerers shouldn’t have a sorcerer among them, should it? That would be rather hypocritical.”

  “You’re expecting your enemies to be morally logical?” Tolemek asked.

  “Is that unwise?”

  “Probably. As to the rest, I’m not an expert, but I doubt there’s ever been a sorcerer alive who could detect magic across an ocean. And people have been finding us since we left Iskandia weeks ago. Remember the Cofah waiting along the coast? And somehow Cas’s dad knew to look for us on that island.”

  He’s right. I have a ra
nge of thirty or forty miles, as far as seeing the world around me goes. I would have to be even closer than that to detect something like your light fixtures.

  We prefer to call them power crystals.

  I know. It’s amusing. I doubt there are many sorcerers who could have detected the landing of your fliers from the capital. I certainly haven’t seen anyone capable of that in Iskandia since I was dug out of the rocks.

  Any idea how someone would have found our fliers then? Ridge supposed it was possible this organization had scouts up and down the coast, not just in the city. If so, they could be much larger and better equipped than he would have guessed.

  Sardelle didn’t tell you about the queen, did she?

  The queen? Ridge caught sight of dark gray smoke in the distance, several thick lines combining in the sky and being blown inland.

  Yes. First off, she has dragon blood flowing through her veins. Second—

  “Dragon blood?” Ridge blurted. The queen couldn’t be a sorceress. He shook his head. No, it wasn’t possible. Who would have trained her? How could she have kept that hidden from the king for years?

  Relax, genius. While I suppose it’s possible she could have some training, she can have that heritage without being a sorceress or even knowing she has the aptitude. Like your hairy pirate friend here.

  “Jaxi chatting with you?” Tolemek asked. “Or was that a response to my comment?”

  “Yes. No.” Wait, what had his comment been? Something about the range of sorcerers?

  “Let me know if she enlightens you on anything important.”

  From what I’ve observed so far, Jaxi continued, about one in a thousand people here has some diluted dragon blood. I doubt many of them could conjure any magic even if they were trained. They’re probably considered perceptive by their comrades, but little more. People like Tolemek and his sister, those who still have sufficient blood to have access to more power, most likely have ancestors who were among those who mated with the last of the dragons, back before they disappeared from this world. For someone whose dragon-loving ancestor existed two thousand years ago instead of a thousand, they could never become someone who would be considered a sorcerer, at least not in our time.

 

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