Blood Charged

by Lindsay Buroker

  Ridge shrugged.

  “I’m not failing before I find my sister. I don’t know why they’ve moved her, but if the message she left me is true, I know they didn’t simply send her back to my father’s home. She’s in danger because of me, and I’m not going to die in some forsaken wilderness when she’s waiting for me to help her.”

  “Does that mean you don’t want to come on this mission?” Ridge asked. “You and your tools would be useful, but it’s not your quest. I understand that.”

  Tolemek looked down at Ahn. She wasn’t whispering in his ear or making any facial expressions that suggested she would be disappointed if he didn’t come, but he may have seen something there that Sardelle didn’t. “I’ll go,” Tolemek said.

  “Good. Ahn?”

  “Yes, sir. I’m in.”

  Ridge gave Sardelle his tired smile. “I hope you’re still in too.”

  “Yes, but can we talk for a moment?” She clasped his hand—and found some of the sticky pitch he had mentioned earlier.

  His smile flattened with I-told-you-so wryness.

  Tolemek and Ahn had already moved away from the fire, and the two lieutenants were talking—their voices occasionally rising in anger or exasperation—off in another direction. Sardelle didn’t have to lead Ridge far to find a private spot.

  She dusted snow off a log, sat down facing the fire, and unfastened the snowshoes. Icy air whispered off the mountaintops, licking at her skin, and she pulled her cloak tight. She had a trick for heating blankets, usually reserved for sick patients, that she might have to employ the next time they had a sleep break. Whenever that was. Dawn was only an hour off, and Ridge would want to be gone before the sky brightened. There was a Cofah airship that knew where they were, and it would have had time to reach a base and gather reinforcements by now.

  Ridge sat on the log and put an arm around her. For a moment, Sardelle allowed herself to feel amused that Duck had thought their romance had been an act. Everything else was an act. This was the one true thing. Or was it? Would she truly be considering leaving him if she cared for him? She recaptured his free hand and clasped it in hers. Yes, it was because she cared that she was considering it.

  Really? I thought it was because you were being cowardly and didn’t want to face that secret organization.

  I have no problem facing organizations. I just don’t want to ruin his career. His life.

  Yeah, yeah, why don’t you ask him what he thinks about your career-ruining presence and let him decide for himself?

  That’s… actually somewhat logical, Jaxi.

  You needn’t sound so surprised. I’ve been witness to thousands of matings.

  Thousands? Either your former handlers were extremely randy, or you have a voyeuristic streak.

  If swords could smile, Jaxi did.

  Ridge’s gaze had drifted toward his flier—he probably needed to get back to the repairs. “Is there something you were wanting to talk about? Or has your time away with a boring and introspective pirate left you aching for someone fun to cuddle with?”

  Sardelle thought about defending Tolemek, but he hadn’t been a very talkative companion. She might believe Ahn didn’t find him boring—she wasn’t that talkative, either, so maybe they enjoyed spending time together in silence—but Sardelle preferred Ridge’s playful teasing.

  “Can we trust them?” Sardelle tilted her chin toward the arguing lieutenants. “Or can I trust them, I should ask. I know they won’t plot against you.”

  “No, their military indoctrination should keep them from plotting hijinks against a superior officer.”

  “Hijinks aren’t what I’m worried about.”

  “I don’t think they’ll risk my ire out here. Once we get back… Enh, that’ll probably be the least of my problems when I get back. If I don’t get court-martialed for kicking out Therrik, I’ll probably get demoted for tarring up the mission.”

  “How are you responsible for what’s gone wrong?” Sardelle asked. “Was that colonel likely to make the captains more effective?”

  “Not from what I gathered, but he’ll be back there, slobbering all over the king’s ear while I’m out here, underestimating Cofah pilots and nearly crashing into canyons.” He lowered his voice. “Your sword saved my life.”

  “I know. She’s quite pleased with herself.”

  “I feel like an idiot. I was overly confident. I wasn’t even thinking about the potential of special dragon-blood weapons when I saw those Cofah fliers. And after what we’ve already seen, I should have been. But I assumed the pilots would be green compared to my people—compared to me.” His hand flexed and he made a disgusted noise. “Apex is right in that the Cofah seem to have an uncanny amount of data on our whereabouts. I don’t know if there’s a snitch somewhere or if it’s something else they can do with that blood, but I have no reason for overconfidence out here.” He scuffed at the snow with his boot. “Sorry, we were supposed to be talking about your concerns, not my… The dragon usually gets this.”

  Sardelle blinked. “The what?”

  “You know, my little figurine.”

  “You, ah, talk to it?”

  “Not to it,” Ridge said, “but I pace in circles and talk to myself.”

  “While you’re holding it.”

  “Yes.” He squinted at Sardelle. “I’ve told you before, this isn’t that odd. Not any odder than what other pilots do. The job makes us a little crazy. All of us.”

  “Of course. I understand. And I’m not mocking you.” She squeezed his hand, but couldn’t help adding, “Do they have asylums in Iskandia these days? Or is that only in Cofahre?”

  “I think so, but it wouldn’t be within your rights to admit me, unless you were my wife. Even then, I think I’d have to do more than get caught talking to myself.”

  Unless she was his wife… He was joking, but the words made her pause and dwell on the possibility. Did he want that? Did she? She shook her head. She had better bring up the first discussion first, though commenting on his jokes was easier. “Even if you’re rubbing your dragon while you’re talking to yourself?”

  “Yes. Er.” His brow crinkled. “We’re still talking about the statuette, right?”

  “I was.”

  “Good. Yes. Me too.”

  She snorted softly.

  Ridge leaned closer and kissed her on the cheek, his lips warm against her chilled skin. “Thank you. I don’t know if it was your intent, but you’ve taken my mind off glum thoughts.”

  “I’m glad, but…” Now it was Sardelle who poked at the snow with her boot. “Some of this court-martial concern of yours… You’ve made some choices others might question, and you’ve been put in some compromising situations lately as a result of me—of knowing me and having me in your life.”

  Ridge gave her a suspicious squint. “Did someone tell you about the vine at the castle?”

  “The what?”

  That’s an entertaining story. Definitely get that from him.

  “Nothing,” Ridge said. “Go on.”

  Hm. “I like your company very much—”

  His eyes widened with surprise—ugh, did this sound like the beginning of a we-need-to-go-separate-ways speech?

  “—and could easily see living with you for many years… or all of them. But I’m afraid I’m getting you in trouble. That you’re making choices you wouldn’t usually make if you weren’t trying to protect me. I was wondering…” She wasn’t sure what expression was in his eyes now. She was having a hard time looking at them. “Maybe I should leave for a while, until I’ve dealt with the people spying on me and your life returns to normal. You have the respect of your people, your superior officers, your king, your pilots… I don’t want you to lose any of that because of me.”

  “Sardelle.”

  She risked meeting his eyes. He didn’t look mad or stunned or devastated, but he did look like he was trying to figure something out. Or figure her out.

  Good call, genius.

 
; Hush.

  “Is this allowed?” Ridge asked. “Talking about leaving right after you teach me to mind-talk and invite your sword to waltz into my head whenever she feels like it?”

  “Uhm.” She didn’t know what to make of his humor, not this time. A defense mechanism? A sign that he didn’t understand the ramifications of what she’d asked? No, he wasn’t a dull man, even if he hid behind that I-just-like-to-fly-and-shoot-things persona.

  “I assumed that was a sign that a marriage proposal was imminent,” Ridge said, “or at least that I was worth sharing your innermost secrets and abilities with.”

  “Marriage proposal? Are the women supposed to do that now? It was always the men in my time.” She stopped talking, lest it turn into battling. The topic flustered her. He wasn’t seriously suggesting he’d want a proposal, was he? No, it was a joke…

  “It can come from either sex.”

  “I assumed I’d wait for you to ask. You instigated our first evening together, after all, even though I’d scarcely known you for three days at that point.”

  “I instigated?” Ridge asked. “You were the one fondling my chest. If that’s not an instigation, I don’t know what is.”

  “I was bandaging your wounds.”

  “There were wounds? Huh, I’d forgotten. Odd which details about a night different people remember, isn’t it?”

  Sardelle shoved her shoulder against him but smiled anyway. Maybe this was the only answer to her concerns she would get tonight.

  But Ridge sobered and dropped his voice again—the others had looked in their direction at the mention of sex, even if they had been using the gender sense of the word. “Listen, Sardelle. My life has never been normal, and I make dubious choices all the time. I was doing that long before I met you. Ask anyone. No, ask General Ort. He would be happy to give you a list. Or show you my file. All three inches of it. I’m just impulsive and not very disciplined. There aren’t many branches of the army where I could have made it more than five years without being bounced out on my a— my lower cheeks, as you call them. I knew that from the beginning. The only reason I joined was because I wanted to fly. That’s all I’ve ever wanted to do. I’ve put up with the rest of the discipline and chain-of-command cra—wait, do you have a polite civilized word for, ah, fecal droppings?”

  “I think you just found one.”

  “Enh, it doesn’t have a very forceful ring. Anyway, what I’m saying is that I’ve put up with the army because the army keeps me in the air. The only reason the army puts up with me, is because I’m good up there. Usually.” He grimaced. “The king’s good graces mean less to me than they probably should. I see him as a man, nothing more, nothing less. I see everyone that way. I don’t like failing—that claws at me—and if I’m dreading a court-martial, it’s because I know that in this case it will be deserved, but it’s the having failed that will bother me, not the opinions of others.”

  Ridge slumped down on the log, leaning his elbows against his knees. Sardelle thought about putting her arm around him, but rested her shoulder against him instead. He stared thoughtfully down at his hands. “As long as I can fly, that’s what makes it worth the early mornings, the horrible chow, the physical and mental exams, the long work weeks, the days off only when it’s convenient for the army to let you go, which is next to never. It’s the flying that makes everything else workable. But if there was another way… I’ve been thinking off and on, ever since you mentioned that you might be able to make a power crystal.”

  He glanced at her, and she gave a nod. She hadn’t tried yet but thought she could.

  “Maybe I wouldn’t need the military to have a flier,” Ridge said. “I have engineer friends; we might be able to build one from scratch. Even if you couldn’t make a power source, or it was too dangerous to, now there’s this dragon blood… Just seems like all of a sudden there are options. And I’ve wondered what it would be like to go off after my dad on one of his crazy world-exploring missions while he’s still alive. I’ve wondered what it would be like to fly all over the world, really. See it all from the sky. Maybe skipping the empire, since my head is apparently adorning bounty posters here. But if we weren’t at war with the Cofah, and there were another way to keep flying, I might have retired already. That crossed my mind while I was being flown out to those prison mines, let me tell you. But I figure it would be cowardly to leave as long as the Cofah are a threat and I’m able to keep fighting. But I suppose if the army kicked me out… I wouldn’t feel all that bad about it. And if something happened where I had to leave to help protect this particularly fine lady, I wouldn’t feel all that bad about that, either.” Ridge wiggled his eyebrows at her. “I know you don’t need my protecting, but I’d at least like to be able to take my cloak off and lay it across a mud puddle for you, so I can feel useful. I’d do that, by the way, if we ever get somewhere without snow and you’re wearing sandals instead of boots.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” Sardelle should have said something more meaningful to his sharing of dreams, but she sensed that he wasn’t being completely straightforward with her. Aspects of the military might irritate him, but he loved his job and the officers who worked under him. He wasn’t ready to retire, not unless they made him choose between that or a desk job. And he didn’t want to fail or to lose the admiration of those he cared about. That mattered to him. He liked being a war hero, even if he waved away the attention and pretended it didn’t matter. He even believed it didn’t matter to him. Perhaps this was a case of Sardelle being able to sense things in him that he wasn’t being honest to himself about. He would be devastated if his career was taken from him and if he was ostracized. On some level, he knew that; he had to. That he wanted her enough to bury those thoughts… she appreciated it, but she feared he would come to resent her one day if she was the one who, however unintentionally, ruined his life.

  She stared bleakly at the ground.

  “Anyway,” Ridge said, flexing his clasped hands and returning his gaze to them. “I can’t read you the way you can read me, so I don’t know how you truly feel, but I want you to know that if you’re looking for an excuse to leave, you don’t have to give me a story. Just say that’s how it is, and I’ll understand. I’ll drink myself into a stupor and pine horribly for days, but I’ll understand. You’re like an eagle, and I’m a crow, and it was probably strange in the beginning that we got all lustful in that cave—I’m still sure that was because of you fondling my chest—but I’ve been enjoying flying with you, so if you’re really just worried that you’re affecting my reputation or my career somehow, please don’t be. I won’t go so far as to say I don’t care at all about those things, but at this point in my life, I’m ready to care about someone else… more.”

  That was a truth, a whole truth.

  Sardelle wiped at the corner of her eye. A lump had grown in her throat while he was speaking, else she might have protested his notion that she was an eagle or any sort of magnificent bird or animal. She didn’t trust her voice though, and when he gazed over at her, she put her hands on either side of his face and kissed him.

  It did seem unfair that she could read him when he could only guess at her true thoughts. She didn’t know if it would alarm him, but with the touch of her lips, she tried to share her feelings and emotions with him as well, things that were too hard to prove with words, that she didn’t want to leave him but she would never forgive herself for wrecking his life. She also admitted that she was afraid sometimes that she had attached herself to him too soon and with too much zeal because he had been the first nice person to walk into this new life of hers, a life she was still struggling to accept fully. He had been like a life preserver on a rough sea, and she had clung on with more fervor than she usually would have when meeting a man. But at the same time, she knew if they had met three hundred years ago, she would have wanted to explore a relationship with him then too.

  She shifted so she could slip her fingers beneath his jacket, running her hand u
p his waist and around to his back, enjoying the contours of his hard muscles, wanting to slide over into his lap and feel more of him. Yes, falling for him would have been easy in any time period. He was handsome, charming, playful—

  And he does that thing with his tongue.

  Jaxi!

  I’m only interrupting because some people have noticed you’re using this log for more than a bench, and it’s almost dawn.

  Is there a Cofah airship on the way?

  Nothing close enough for me to sense. Yet.

  Good. Now, go away.

  Sardelle would have gone on kissing Ridge for a few more minutes—or hours—and who cared who was watching, but for all his words about being indifferent to what happened to his career, he had a more developed sense of duty than she. He broke the kiss first, though his eyes didn’t leave hers. The intensity—the heat—in them made her wonder if he might suggest running off into the woods instead of attending to any sort of duties, but he eventually sighed and leaned back farther. “That is… compelling,” he breathed, his voice husky.

  “Do you mean, ah, did you sense… me?” Very eloquent, yes. But she didn’t want to say she had been trying to foist her emotions onto him if it hadn’t worked. Just because he understood her words when she spoke with her mind didn’t mean the rest would come through.

  “Some fears, concerns, something about a life preserver, but I was mostly talking about the end where you were thinking lustful thoughts about my… back.”

  She blushed—those hadn’t been the feelings she had been trying to share.

  He caught her hand when she pulled it out from beneath his jacket, giving it a kiss before releasing her, his eyes holding a promise of later. He eyed the sky, which was no longer as dark as it had been, and the camp—contrary to Jaxi’s warning, the others were doing a polite job of not looking in this direction. “Looks like it’s time to go. Are you ready to storm a secret Cofah compound?”

  Chapter 11

  Ridge tucked his spyglass into a pocket and picked his way down the spruce that he had been using as a viewing platform. He grimaced as sharp needles scraped his cheeks and branches thwacked him in the back of the skull. He still had a knot back there from the crash. He probably should have given the tree-climbing job to someone else, but after moving the fliers, the squadron had hiked all afternoon and was approaching the coordinates for the secret Cofah facility, and Ridge had wanted to see for himself what awaited.