“I am left-handed,” Leftie said, “and throw a mean hookball with that arm. It’s like a rocket launcher.”
Trip snorted. He hadn’t been planning to out his friend, but Duck apparently heard that snort.
“There another truth there, Trip?” he asked.
“Well…”
“I don’t think that story is appropriate to share in the presence of the more genteel sex,” Leftie rushed to say.
“We’re all soldiers here,” Kaika said. “And I dearly love an inappropriate story.”
“Over at the Charkolt base,” Trip said, ignoring the glare Leftie sent him, “the barracks are way in the back, and the flier hangars are toward the front where the gate into the city is. A lot of people keep uniforms and civilian clothing at the hangar, and shower and change in the locker rooms instead of going back to the barracks before heading out. During our first week of duty, Leftie was recovering from a small injury—”
“Taking a brisk ball to the groin is not a small injury,” Leftie growled.
“Yes, apparently, he was black and blue, and rather swollen, for several days. On one side in particular.”
“The left?” Duck asked.
“The left,” Trip agreed. “You wouldn’t think many men would look at other men’s testicles, but enough people saw the discrepancy—”
“Temporary discrepancy,” Leftie said.
“—that a nickname was born,” Trip finished.
“Clearly, we’ll have to check later,” Kaika drawled. “To see if that discrepancy really was temporary.”
“We?” Blazer protested. “I don’t want to see his hairy balls.”
“They can’t be that hairy, or nobody would have noticed he was cattywampus.”
“Catty-what?” Leftie asked. “I don’t know what that is, but I’m not it.”
“Are you sure they’re the more genteel sex, Leftie?” Duck asked.
“Not anymore, no.”
“Downed airship up ahead,” Blazer said.
“One of ours?” Duck asked, leaning to the side to peer down toward the fjords. “If there are people that survived, we should help.”
“Actually, no. It’s a Cofah design, but the ship is painted black, and there seems to be a white sword across a skull on the envelope. What I can see of it. It’s all deflated.”
Trip straightened. “That’s the pirate king’s mark.”
“Must have stolen it from the Cofah.”
Trip also peered over the side and spotted the big balloon up ahead, as deflated as Blazer had said. It half hid the framework of the crashed ship underneath it. The craft had come down right at the edge of one of the cliffs jutting out between the fjords. The pirates must have narrowly avoided plummeting into the side of the cliff. If that had happened, it would have crashed among boulders far below, the ocean waves white as they broke all around the jagged rocks.
Three people stood atop the stark cliff, appearing little larger than ants from this distance. They waved their arms to flag the fliers down for a rescue.
“We don’t rescue pirates, do we?” Leftie asked.
“Nah,” Blazer said. “We can report them to the next flier base we pass—we have to be within fifty miles to use the communication crystals. Someone’ll probably send a dirigible or some navy ships out to get them.”
“They look like they would prefer to be rescued now,” Duck remarked, the figures waving vigorously as the fliers drew closer.
“I care less about pirates’ preferences than about the wart on my toe,” Blazer said. “Besides, we don’t have any extra room for passengers, so there’s nothing we can do to help. It’s not like Kaika is going to let us leave her bombs behind.”
“For pirates?” Kaika asked, her voice barely audible since she was talking from the back seat of Blazer’s flier. “Hells, no.”
Rysha leaned forward and patted Trip on the shoulder. “Is there any chance you could fix that airship, sir? With what we have in the fliers?”
“Er, what?”
“That airship. It’s like a pub table, but larger.”
“Thanks for the clarification,” Trip said dryly, though he was pleased to see her humor peek out. “If the engine and boiler aren’t too damaged and if there are helium reserves in the tanks so the balloon could be refilled after patching it, I guess it’s possible. The envelope frame may need some rebuilding too.” Trip looked past the crashed ship and toward the forest that started at the back of the cliff. “Technically, we could use wood for that if the metal is too damaged to bend back into shape, though without a sawmill, we’d be stuck using logs.”
I can cut wood better than any sawmill, if properly motivated, Jaxi informed him.
I’ll keep that in mind. “But why would we want to?” Trip glanced over his shoulder. “Repairing it could take days.”
“We’re not repairing anything,” Blazer said. “We’re about to head out over the sea to our destination. Like I said, we’ll report that they crashed once we get back within range of a base.”
“It’s our destination I was thinking about,” Rysha said, yelling over Trip’s shoulder toward the communication crystal. “The Pirate Isles. We won’t be able to fly in openly and land our fliers.”
“I was planning to be sneaky, not open. Even if they see us, I heard they’re not fussy about who they serve rum and beer to there.”
“From what the maps show, the islands aren’t that large, and they’re all clumped together. Finding a spot to land fliers sneakily might be hard,” Rysha said. “It’s possible the pirates would let us land, if we had a good cover story, but—”
“Highly doubtful,” Leftie said. “Especially if any of them recognize me or Trip. We’ve caused some serious grief to a lot of pirates these last couple of years.”
“They aren’t going to like Iskandian fliers in general,” Duck said. “We’d be like lions trotting into a wolf pack’s territory.”
“Lions can take down wolves, can’t they?” Blazer asked.
“Not if they’re outnumbered.”
“That’s why my plan makes sense,” Rysha said.
“What plan?” Blazer asked.
Trip peered back at her, also curious.
“If we can fix up that airship, we can claim it for ourselves, and fly it to the Pirate Isles. Maybe we can even coerce those pirates into staying on board and working for us. Even if we can’t, we could get a lot closer and maybe land right in a harbor without being questioned. They’d think we were one of them.”
“What about our fliers?” Duck asked. “I’m not going to a pirate island or anywhere else without one.”
“That’s a Toralka airship,” Rysha said. “Length of eight hundred feet, diameter of over a hundred feet, plenty of deck space. Lift of more than three hundred thousand pounds when the envelope is fully gassed up. In other words, it has more than enough space and capacity for these four fliers.”
“How do you know all that?” Trip asked, amused. He wouldn’t have taken her for a fan of airships. “Do you know the stats of all aircraft?”
“No, but we had some math problems in school that employed dirigibles for examples, and they used information from specific models.”
“And you remember it?”
“I have a good memory for numbers.”
“Math problems from school,” Blazer said. “I was a lot more likely to sign off on this plan before she said that.”
I can offer assistance if necessary, Jaxi told Trip. I, too, believe it would be difficult to enter the Isles in your Iskandian fliers. Even if we were allowed to land, the pirates would be watching us intently. I could camouflage the fliers somewhat, but someone would notice them eventually if they were parked on their air docks all night.
“Jaxi says she’ll help,” Trip said.
“All right,” Blazer said, turning her craft toward the fjords. “I guess it wouldn’t take that long to land and gauge the damage. We have anyone with engineering expertise on board?”
&nbs
p; “I can fix things,” Trip said, glad for a chance to employ his one skill besides flying.
“He’s excellent with tables,” Rysha said.
“Yes,” Blazer said, “I’m sure fixing tables and fixing airships requires about the same degree of expertise.”
Trip did not respond. He was too busy thinking that he would like to show Rysha that he could fix more than tables. He was still smarting from having to admit to her that all he’d done in the dragon battle was crash and be rescued by Zirkander. Even though he’d been the one to tell the general he didn’t want anyone to know that he’d played a pivotal role, it was hard to have others believing him a screw-up who had lost his flier. Granted, he had done that, but not before helping.
“I’ll give you twenty minutes down there to look things over,” Blazer said. “If you can’t give me a time estimate for repairs that I like within that window, we’re taking off, and we’ll do our best with the Isles. We’ll be flying in at night, so we might get in more easily than you all seem to think.”
“Twenty minutes should be all I need,” Trip said.
“Don’t say things like that in front of women you want to picnic with, Trip,” Leftie said.
Blazer snorted. It took Trip longer to get the joke.
He groped for a witty comeback.
“Some women don’t mind quick and efficient men,” Rysha said, patting Trip on the shoulder.
“That’s not what I’ve heard,” Leftie said. “And I’m experienced and worldly in these matters. This may be the reason the women don’t flock to you, Trip. They’ve heard the unfortunate news. That you’re quick and efficient.”
Rysha lifted her eyes heavenward, but a faint smile curved her lips.
Trip decided it was worth being the butt of the joke if it brought her humor back and distracted her from thinking about her grandmother’s death. And the hurtful things her relatives had said. There was nothing disgraceful about fighting for one’s country.
11
Rysha loaded her rifle as Trip and the other pilots descended for a landing atop the cliff and behind the crashed airship. There were still only three people in sight, scruffy men in mismatched clothing. They looked far too bedraggled to cause trouble, but if they were pirates, they couldn’t be trusted. Besides, three people seemed a small crew for an airship of that size. Had the others all died in the crash?
Now that they were closer, she believed her earlier statement in regard to its size and carrying capacity to be true. But her conviction that their small team could fix it with the limited tools they had along wavered. The airship appeared slightly more complicated than a wobbly table.
Before, the deflated envelope had hidden much of the ship itself from view, but now she could see that the port side had serious damage, as if it had smashed hull-first into the rocky cliff top. The balloon itself was riddled with rips and bullet holes.
“Looks like some of our Cougar Squadron buddies may have been responsible for this,” Leftie said.
“We’re a few hundred miles south of our territory,” Trip said.
“Maybe the pirates got away after the ship was damaged and flew as far as they could.”
“Could be.”
“Lion Squadron could be responsible,” Blazer said as her wheels touched down. “Their base is an hour’s flight to the west.”
“Yeah, but nobody else pummels pirates as mercilessly and effectively as we do,” Leftie said.
“These pirates got away,” Trip pointed out.
“Not that far away.”
Rysha kept her eyes on the three pirates as the fliers settled onto the wind-scraped cliff. They carried weapons, pistols and cutlasses on their belts, but they all kept their hands away from them. One did glance toward the trees a few times. Those trees were a few hundred yards away, the start of a dense and dark forest that could hide a lot.
“Jaxi says there are more men in the trees,” Trip said quietly.
Blazer had stood up to climb out, but she hesitated. “They have weapons?”
A pause, as Trip apparently got the answer. Leftie frowned toward the forest, then brought something to his lips and kissed it before slipping it back into a pocket. A luck charm?
“Yes,” Trip said, “and they’re fondling them in anticipation as they look at us.”
“Fondling?” Duck asked.
“Jaxi’s word. I am but her mouthpiece.”
“How many are there?” Blazer asked, slipping a pistol from her belt but staying low to do it so the pirates on the ground wouldn’t see.
“Twelve,” Trip said.
“The whole rest of the crew then. All right, I’ll go talk to these three with Duck and Leftie. Kaika, why don’t you take our expert Cofah fighter and go visit those tree huggers? You, too, Ravenwood.”
Rysha’s heart started hammering as soon as her name came up. She was training for the elite troops, so she should be ready for a battle like this, but so far, all she’d done was practice hand-to-hand combat with her peers and instructors. The skirmish with the overly friendly man in the bar had been the closest she’d been to a real fight, and he’d been tame compared to pirates, people who would gladly murder her to steal and sell her equipment.
“I’m ready to go,” she said, even though she wasn’t, “but are we sure approaching them across all that empty rock is a good way to do it? If they start shooting—and why wouldn’t they?—we’ve got nowhere to hide. Maybe better to take cover in or behind the airship and wait for them to come to us.”
“I’ll go along,” Trip said. “Jaxi says she can make a barrier around us as we walk over. We just can’t shoot from inside it, so she’ll have to lower it if we’re actually going to fight.”
“You’re going to fight, Trip?” Leftie asked. “I’d follow you into any battle where you’re in a cockpit with guns at your disposal, but you’re no sword dancer.”
“I was planning to dance with my pistol, not Sardelle’s sword.”
“Even more alarming.”
“Just do it,” Blazer said. “These three are getting suspicious.”
With that, she swung her leg over the side and hopped down. She walked toward the pirates with her rifle in her arms and her cigar casually tucked into the corner of her mouth. The wind had whipped some of her shoulder-length blonde hair free of its bun when she’d been flying, but neither it, nor the fact that she was a woman, made her look soft or like someone who could be taken advantage of out there.
Rysha tried to channel some of her courage, wanting to be like Blazer and Kaika. Strong, dependable, and just as capable as her male counterparts.
Duck and Leftie jumped out of their cockpits and jogged after Blazer to walk at her side as she approached the pirates.
Trip hopped down, joining Kaika and the Cofah, Dreyak. The man hadn’t said a word during the entire flight, at least not that Rysha had heard. She slid out of the flier, her rifle in hand, before anyone could wonder why she was taking so long.
She was leery of this plan of directly approaching their would-be ambushers, but had to trust that a soulblade could indeed shield them. Logically, based on all that she’d read, it seemed probable, but emotionally, it was hard to entrust her life to magic.
“Stay behind us, recruits,” Kaika said, looking at Rysha and Trip, then waving for Dreyak to walk beside her toward the trees.
Trip’s lips twisted, his expression saying he wasn’t amused at being called a “recruit.”
“Just don’t get too far ahead of me,” he said, following them. “Ahead of Jaxi.”
He had attached the scabbard to his belt, opposite his pistol. Interestingly, he strode forward with his hand on it instead of the firearm. Maybe Jaxi wanted to dance, even if he didn’t.
Rysha walked at Trip’s side, her rifle in her hands, her finger on the trigger. She’d done well in the marksmanship courses, and had competed at archery competitions as a girl, so she trusted her aim. But she also knew her hands would shake when adrenaline coursed through her
veins. And she was less confident in her close-combat skills. She’d already been told she would have to practice a lot more to pass the elite troops tests. Her natural instincts ran contrary to punching people in the face.
They were less than halfway across the open rocky expanse when the first shot fired. Surprisingly, it came from behind them instead of the forest.
Rysha glanced back in time to see Blazer grappling with one of the pirates, trying to tear a pistol from his hand. Duck and another pirate wrestled on the ground, rolling over the bruising rocks. Leftie was running for cover behind the wrecked airship, zigzagging and jumping as the third pirate fired a pistol at him.
“Is that barrier up now?” Rysha demanded, jerking her rifle up, jamming the butt into the hollow of her shoulder.
“Only ahead of us,” Trip said.
That was all Rysha needed to hear. She sighted down the long barrel of her rifle and fired at the man firing at Leftie.
Leftie had reached the airship hull and leaned out, his pistol ready to shoot. But Rysha’s bullet slammed into the pirate’s thigh first. She could have shot him in the head, but they might need some of these men alive for her ruse.
She snorted at the excuse her mind made. She just didn’t want to kill people, and she knew it.
Could she truly do all she dreamed of doing if she shied away from that?
When the man hunched over, yelling and grabbing his thigh, Leftie took advantage. He fired twice, the bullets slamming into the pirate’s chest.
So much for leaving men alive for her ruse.
Gunfire came from the forest, and Rysha whirled to face the ambushers. Blazer and the others would have to deal with the other two pirates on their own, which she trusted they could do.
Bullets skipped off the rocks all around Rysha and her team. Some of those should have hit them, but Jaxi’s invisible barrier was in place.
“Charge,” Kaika yelled, raising her pistol aloft.
Dreyak bellowed, “Let the sun set on the spilled blood of our enemies,” and ran at her side, an ornate Cofah pistol in one hand and a scimitar in the other.
Trip drew the soulblade and ran after them, more worried, Rysha sensed, about keeping close enough so they wouldn’t be out of the range of Jaxi’s barrier than about the sun setting on blood he spilled.
Dragon Storm Page 13
