Blood Charged

by Lindsay Buroker

  “Oh, I have your unique skills in mind, trust me,” he said. “Take your Mark 500 and plenty of ammunition for it. Just because we’re supposed to get in and out without a fight doesn’t mean we will. You know plans are worth spit until they’ve been put into action. And if our friends over there get into trouble, it’s possible we’ll have to get them out.” Oh, and wouldn’t he appreciate the expression on Therrik’s face when Ridge’s pilots were the ones to rescue him from some Cofah prison? “We’re leaving two hours before dawn, so start packing. But I do want you to meet me at Tolemek’s lab after lunch.”

  “You don’t think he’ll want to come along?” Ahn lowered her voice. “Or are you afraid he’ll want to come along too badly? So he can get his sister? He is happy here, sir. He just wants to make sure she doesn’t have to stay in that place any longer than necessary.”

  “I know. I understand. Unfortunately, I’m not going to be in command of the mission, but we’ll find out where she is exactly, and if it’s anywhere near and it’s at all possible…” Ridge finished with a shrug, not wanting to promise too much.

  “Thank you, sir. He’ll appreciate you thinking of him. I appreciate it.”

  Ridge gave her a parting nod and headed down the line toward the next pilot he had in mind for the mission. Ahn’s gratitude made him feel a little guilty, since he wouldn’t be thinking of going out of his way to help Tolemek if not for Sardelle and the promise she had made to the pirate.

  As he passed Pimples, Beeline, and Crash, Ridge gave them quick nods and greetings, noting their hopeful expressions, but he didn’t stop. He could only take two more men, and he hadn’t been buttering Ahn’s toast—he truly wanted people with talents beyond flying for this. Talents that might be useful if he needed them. Besides, he needed to leave some good men for Major Pennith, who would command the squadron in his absence.

  “Duck and Apex.” Ridge gestured to the two men at the end of the line of fliers. “Come see me.”

  A wide grin split Duck’s face, and he thumped his fist on Apex’s shoulder as he ran past. He was twenty-five and would make a good captain once he settled down, but Lieutenant Wasley “Duck” Antilon still seemed more a kid than an officer. He and Pimples might have a few years on Ahn, but she always seemed the oldest of the group of young lieutenants.

  Duck almost skidded in his hurry to meet Ridge and snap to attention. “Yes, sir?” Almost too tall to be a pilot, he had big ears, big feet, and a big grin that he always had to struggle to rein in. He wasn’t doing a good job of that at the moment.

  Apex walked over, his stride more measured, his expression one of curiosity but not avid hope, like Duck’s. Though he was also a lieutenant, he was in his early thirties since he had come later than usual to the military, finishing eight years of university classes and two years studying fossils in the field before having his hometown of Tanglewood destroyed by pirates. More specifically, by Deathmaker’s biological agent. Ridge had been watching him since Tolemek had come to the city, but Apex was good at hiding his thoughts. He had seemed stiffer than usual around Ahn these last weeks, but to Ridge’s knowledge, he hadn’t confronted her or made a problem. Under any other circumstances, Ridge wouldn’t do something as foolish as putting him on a team with Tolemek, but the man knew everything there was to know about dragon history. Sardelle knew a lot about dragons and history, too—Ridge still hadn’t figured out if she had always been academically inclined, or if Referatu children had simply received more thorough educations than anyone else—but he still didn’t know how he could bring her on the mission, especially if he wasn’t in charge.

  “Sir?” Apex asked, falling in beside Duck.

  Ridge opened his brown bag and held it toward him. “The vendor promised this is an authentic Peruvashian Prosperity Dragon carved from the finest redwood burl. It’s guaranteed to bring luck to my home. What’s your professional opinion?”

  Apex peered into the bag. “That the vendor saw you coming and knew colonels make good money.”

  Ridge snorted. “I only paid ten nucros for it.”

  Apex lifted his gaze to the flier at the front of the queue, where Ridge’s little wooden dragon carving hung in the cockpit. “It looks heavy. You’re not going to replace your current charm, are you?”

  “Nah, this is for the house. It’s been under assault of late.”

  “I see.” Apex clasped his hands behind his back and refrained from saying his commander was a superstitious dolt. Good man.

  “Any idea what dragon blood might be used for?” Ridge asked.

  Apex’s eyebrows rose. “Dragon blood was exceedingly difficult to acquire. There were cases of swords stained with dragon blood during the Rider Wars, and of minute quantities being scraped away for study, but that was fifteen hundred years ago, and science was primitive back then. Speculation ranged from the blood itself having healing properties to the possibility of it being an energy source. It was proven any number of times that the offspring of those who mated with dragons gained access to otherworldly or perhaps mental powers that normal humans couldn’t tap into. Is this what you’re referring to? Human blood mixed with dragon blood? If so, it’s been nearly fifty generations since the last dragons were seen in the world, and the dilution factor means there’s little difference now between a human who had a dragon ancestor and one who didn’t.”

  “Yes, I’ve always wondered how those matings went,” Ridge said, though in truth, he hadn’t thought much about it until he had met Sardelle and she had explained that all sorcerers had a dragon ancestor somewhere in the family tree. “But what I’m actually asking about is what pure dragon blood might be used for now, because it sounds like the Cofah might have some.”

  “I don’t see how that’s possible, sir. It sounds like propaganda.” Apex eyed the elite troops captains. “Unless we have some kind of proof? In which case I would be most intrigued to examine it. It can’t possibly be live, viable blood, but perhaps they’ve found some trace blood molecules in a fossilized mosquito or some such. If a mosquito could even pierce a dragon’s scaled hide. I’d be skeptical, but I know there were some bigger blood-harvesting insects in past eras.”

  “The impression I got from my meeting was that this was live blood,” Ridge said.

  “Impossible. Unless they’ve got a live dragon too.”

  “That’s… an interesting notion. Or a disturbing one. If anyone is going to have dragons on their side, I’d much prefer it be us rather than the Cofah. Still, you’d think that if there were dragons left in the world, one would have shown up now and then in the last millennium.”

  “Science hypothesizes that they went extinct due to changes in the atmosphere that came with the increased human presence in the world,” Apex said. “The bonk-a-doos say the dragons got tired of this world and migrated to another one, though there’s no evidence that dragons could fly through space or create portals to other planets.”

  Bonk-a-doos, indeed. “Is it possible the Cofah could have figured out a way to create dragon blood through some scientific or mechanical means? Like if they did find some fossilized remains?”

  “We can’t make blood, and we’re at least as far along, scientifically and technologically speaking, as the Cofah.”

  Duck scratched his head. By now, Apex probably knew why he was being invited along, but Duck looked a little mystified.

  “Wondering what your role is going to be on this mission, Duck?” Ridge asked.

  “No, sir. Well, yes, sir.” Duck lowered his hand. “But I got stuck on the idea of dragons and people making like jacks and mares in heat.”

  Apex tilted his head. “An inaccurate simile, since the offspring between a horse and a donkey is sterile. The human children born to those matings were perfectly viable, as evinced by the fact that people with dragon blood were born for centuries after.”

  Duck’s face screwed up. “But how… I mean dragons are—” he stretched out his arms to their fullest spread, “—and people are…” He
pulled his hands into encompass something much smaller.

  Ridge smirked, but he eyed Apex as well. He was just as curious about the answer. He supposed Sardelle would know, but he had never thought to ask. Talk of magic and the origins of magic made him twitchy. He ought to put this whole conversation to bed and send these men off to pack.

  “According to the histories, dragons could take human form,” Apex said. “Like many other species, there were always far more male dragons born than female dragons, and only the strongest and most desirable males were taken as mates. Those who wanted offspring, or were simply feeling randy, shape-changed and mated with other species. Not only humans. This all happened so long ago that it’s difficult to prove any of it, mind you, but some of the rarer and quirkier species out there with inexplicable traits that border on the magical—such as unicorns, winged tigers, and flash apes—are believed to have come about due to dragon blood. Most of these creatures are nothing more than stuffed reproductions in museums now, having either been hunted to extinction or having had their blood diluted through the generations until the peculiar traits disappeared, but you still hear stories of them now and again, especially in the wilder and less explored areas of the world.”

  “My father brought a unicorn horn back from his travels,” Ridge said.

  “Now I’m imagining dragons and horses…” Duck shook his head. “Never mind.”

  “Apex, your knowledge could be important on this mission,” Ridge said. “You up for an adventure into Cofahre?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And, Duck? Can you forage and survive in some random Cofahre wilderness as well as you can here?”

  “Ahh.” Duck nodded, understanding his role finally. The kid had practically grown up with wolves, at least according to the stories he told, before his family had joined a farming community so their children could be properly educated. During an exercise the year before, he and three other soldiers had crashed in the swamps off the Temeron Keys, and Duck had kept everyone sheltered and fed until the team had been located. “Yes, sir. Reckon I can forage and survive just about everywhere. There’s ways to test what’s edible and what’s not, even if you’re in a new area.”

  “I hope we won’t need your skills…” Ridge had no intention of having his team shot down deep into enemy territory, but he’d make a poor commander if he didn’t plan for every contingency. “But I’d like to be able to call upon them just in case.”

  “Yes, sir. I’m happy to go along.”

  “Good. We’re leaving in the morning. I’ll have the ground crew prep the two-seaters. We’ll all be flying an extra passenger.” Ridge nodded toward the two captains.

  “You’ve selected four pilots, sir,” Apex observed. “Who else is coming?”

  “There’s an elite troops colonel that will be leading his men. And the fourth person… I’m going to go check to see if he’s available.” Ridge waved and hurried away before Apex could ask who that fourth person might be. Best to see if Tolemek wanted to come before worrying too much about personality—and history—conflicts.

  Still, Ridge could feel Apex’s eyes following him across the hangar as he walked away.

  * * *

  The receptionist in the research building pursed his lips in clear disapproval of the mud Ridge left on the white marble floor when he entered, or maybe at Ridge in general. His flight suit and leather jacket weren’t uncommon wear in the city, but everyone walking in and out of doors up and down the hall wore white lab coats and tidy civilian suits. Mud-free footwear.

  Lieutenant Ahn was leaning against the end of the receptionist’s desk. Her boots looked as muddy as Ridge’s, but there wasn’t a line of prints leading from the door to her spot. The receptionist sighed and pushed something under his desk, eliciting a thunk. A door opened down the hallway, and something that looked vaguely like an upturned mop bucket with gears rolled out. Damp sponges between its wheels deployed, wiping the floor clean. Ridge stepped aside for it as soon as he realized it was on some kind of circuit that wouldn’t be stopped for innocent bystanders.

  “Tolemek’s lab is this way, sir,” Ahn said, pointing down the hall.

  Ridge watched the cleaning contraption for a moment before joining her. “Should I be jealous that a notorious pirate and enemy of the nation works in a much fancier building than we do?”

  “From what I’ve seen, the fancy toys are just distractions. The other day, I walked in on Tolemek using his mechanical spinner and some liquid gas to turn milk into ice cream.”

  “No wonder the king was excited to turn him into an ally.” Ridge gave the sponge machine another wistful look before they turned into a stairwell and started climbing.

  “You could get Wrench or Dantalos from Tiger Squadron to build you a self-propelling mop bucket if you were really motivated, sir.”

  “I’m not sure the minds that thought up an ambulatory beer dispenser for the break room could be trusted to create something as useful as a cleaning device.”

  “Maybe not.” Ahn led him onto the second floor to a door with a frowning guard standing next to it. His shoulders were slouched, almost in a cringe. Odd. Was he that alarmed by Tolemek’s reputation?

  The guard straightened as soon as Ridge and Ahn approached. “Colonel Zirkander, sir.” He glanced at the closed door. “Is… Deathmaker in trouble, sir?”

  “I don’t know. Is he not sharing his ice cream?”

  A puzzled furrow creased the guard’s brow. “I don’t know, sir. I just mean… another officer. It sounds like he’s in trouble.” He frowned at the door again. “He’s been decent to me. I know about his past, but I didn’t think he’d done anything to—”

  Ahn pushed past the guard, a worried frown forming on her own face. She opened the door, and a wisp of smoke wafted out. Ridge hesitated, imagining some experiment gone awry and spilling poison into the air, but the guard had been worried for Tolemek, not because of him. Ahn rushed in without pausing, and Ridge’s heart jumped when a slam almost as loud as a gunshot came from the other side of the room.

  Ridge strode in, slipping his pistol out of his holster. Towering equipment and cabinets loomed on either side of him, but he focused on the far side of the room, trying to figure out what had caused that noise. But smoke thickened the air, dulling the sunlight filtering in from the single window and dimming the influence of the gas lamps mounted on the walls.

  “Tolemek?” Ahn asked.

  “Get back, woman,” a man said. It wasn’t Tolemek, but Ridge recognized the voice. “Quit hiding, you pirate coward. Face me like a man, not a child full of tricks.”

  “Colonel… Therrik?” Ridge asked. He lowered his pistol. Ahn had her own firearm out and hadn’t bothered lowering it yet.

  Ridge stepped forward and pressed down on her forearm. “That’s our commander for our mission. Shooting him would be frowned upon by our superiors.”

  “Tolemek, are you all right?” Ahn asked, her arm tense. She lowered the pistol but didn’t put it away.

  “That depends on whether this… person is done assaulting me,” came the pirate’s voice from a corner of the room. It sounded like he was hunkered behind a lab station.

  “Colonel Therrik,” Ridge said, hardening his voice—he knew Therrik wouldn’t be intimidated by him, but he wanted a serious response, not to be ignored. The colonel was visible in the smoke, his broad shoulders heaving, as if he’d run a sprint. Or been in a fight. His face was covered in soot, lined with sweat streaks. Or maybe those were tear streaks. “What are you doing here?”

  “Getting information from this homicidal ass,” Therrik snarled.

  “He barged in here, wanting to interrogate me,” Tolemek said.

  “We don’t need information from him,” Ridge said slowly, not sure he understood Therrik’s intent. “We’re taking him with us so he can be a mobile resource for us. If he agrees to come, that is. Your method of enticing him to join our quest is lacking.”

  Ahn pulled away from Ridge and
walked toward the sound of Tolemek’s voice. She kept an eye on the colonel—she’d yet to holster that pistol.

  Ridge wanted to warn her not to do anything to jeopardize her career, but Therrik was talking again.

  “I’m not taking this hairy gorilla anywhere. He’ll tell us what he knows about dragon blood, if I have to carve it out of him.”

  “Come close to me again, and the next grenade I throw will do a lot more than tear up your eyes,” Tolemek said.

  Therrik shifted, and Ridge spotted a big knife in his hand.

  Seven gods, what was the man doing? “If you’re looking for an expert on dragon blood,” Ridge said, “I suggest you talk to Apex, one of my pilots. He studied archaeology and dragons specifically before joining the military. Tolemek is supposed to come along to analyze the Cofah lab and figure out what they’re making. I sincerely doubt he can do that until he actually sees the lab.” Of course, if Therrik and his team objected to Tolemek’s presence, that might be the perfect time for Tolemek to slip away and find his sister. Ridge wouldn’t want to go into an enemy scientist’s lab without a scientist of his own to point out the booby traps, but Therrik didn’t seem to share that feeling.

  “We’re not taking him with us,” Therrik repeated. “Not on my team, and not on my mission. There’s no way I’d trust that animal at my back, and you’re a fool if you would, Zirkander. Get him back in his homeland, and he’ll turn on us quicker than a cobra escaped from its cage.”

  “Anyone want to tell me about this mission I may or may not be going on?” Tolemek rose from behind the lab station, a ceramic oval device in his hand. He gestured for Ahn to join him, as if Therrik might attack her, and he intended to protect her as well as himself.

  Ridge didn’t think the colonel’s propeller was that off kilter, but he took a few steps toward the man, anyway, lifting a placating hand.