Soulblade

by Lindsay Buroker

  The thief’s head bobbed up and down.

  “Get me the next one,” Tolemek said.

  “Do you want them retied?” Quataldo asked, the quirk to his lips suggesting he found it odd that he, the mission commander, was asking Tolemek what he wanted done.

  “I’ll leave that up to you, Colonel, as to whether you want to release them or not before we go.”

  Quataldo tied the thief’s hands behind his back again. Probably not a bad idea since that would keep him from scratching at the sutures even more effectively than Tolemek’s threat. “We’ll decide in the morning.”

  In a slow parade, Quataldo fetched him thieves, bringing each one over and holding the man while he received a supposedly magical tracking flake.

  Tolemek was tired by the time he finished, but he walked away from the lantern and the eyes of the thieves before cracking a yawn. A sleepy Deathmaker wouldn’t be as frightening of a man, he suspected.

  “Do you think they’ll believe it?” Cas asked quietly from behind him. She must have been relieved from her watch by one of the others.

  He wondered how long she had been observing. He grimaced, wishing she hadn’t witnessed him being cruel. It might save the group trouble, so it was worth it, but it bothered him that his reputation still worked so well, all these thousands of miles from where he and the Roaming Curse pirates had worked.

  “Would you want to risk it?” Tolemek asked.

  “Probably not. And we don’t need them to believe it forever.”

  “If your colonel agrees, you can set them free in the morning. Letting them go back to wherever they came from will mean you don’t have to worry about feeding them either.”

  Cas nodded. “We’ll likely move the camp so they wouldn’t be able to find us again, if they decide to risk telling someone. Make sure to keep the communication crystal close, so we can let you know where we go. We’ll try to get closer to the city, as originally planned.”

  “I understand.”

  Tolie? Tylie whispered into his mind.

  He looked toward the woods, where she slept against Phelistoth’s side. He couldn’t see them from here, but his senses told him the dragon was back in his usual form, the swamp creatures going nowhere near him. Tylie was in the safest place on the continent.

  Yes? He hoped she wouldn’t censure him for playing the role of deranged scientist. She had such a gentle soul. Being a healer would be a good career for her.

  Phel senses something, she told him.

  Another airship?

  Another dragon.

  Chapter 5

  Since Ridge had already been sore when he and Mara started their trek out of the mountains, he did not know how many of the aches, pains, and blisters he could blame on the walking and climbing, not to mention the unwise command decision he had made to slide down a steep slope on a sled improvised from a large piece of bark. The infantry soldiers back home would laugh at him if he admitted to finding the trek difficult, so he would never speak of it, but pilots weren’t meant to use their feet so much. Especially when one of those feet was missing a sock.

  When the smoke of a campfire or perhaps a hearth came into view, Ridge doubted they had gone more than twenty miles as the dragon flier flew, but they must have covered two or three times as much ground to get there, winding around mountains and through irritatingly indirect valleys.

  “There’s a settlement ahead,” Mara said.

  For the first time, they followed a hard-packed, man-made trail with branches cut back along either side. Unlike the animal paths they had used for much of the journey, the trail was also wide enough for them to walk side by side. Instead of leading, as she had been doing for most of the trip, she dropped back to walk at his shoulder.

  “That’s good to know. I worried some bears might be up ahead, making a bonfire in anticipation of a succulent Ridge roast tonight.” In truth, they hadn’t had any trouble with animals, to his surprise. At times, growls had sounded in the foliage nearby, and coyotes had cried to each other from the sides of the trail, but Mara had glared defiantly into the woods, her hand on her knife, and nothing had come out to bother them.

  Mara gave him a curious look. That was her usual response to his comments, as if she couldn’t quite understand him. As if he was the mysterious one.

  She disappeared into the woods often and did not talk much when she was with him. She never shared anything about herself unless he quizzed her directly. Even then, she often avoided answering his questions by jogging ahead “to scout” or going into the woods “to hunt.” She always came back with food, some animal or fish that they could cook, with no explanation as to how she had caught the game. All she had was that knife, and there were never any marks on the animals to explain their deaths. Every time Ridge opened his mouth to ask about her methods, the voice in the back of his head chided him lightly, suggesting it would be impertinent to question the woman keeping him alive. Oddly, that voice didn’t seem to know that he and impertinence were old friends.

  Oh, I know, it whispered into the back of his mind. This is an interesting place.

  This? The inside of my head?

  Yes. You’re not quite like other people, are you?

  Uhm. Ridge didn’t necessarily disagree, but he had the feeling that his attention was being diverted from Mara’s eccentricities. It wasn’t the first time. Assuming that his subconscious was responsible for the separate voice manifesting itself in his head, why would it do that?

  Perhaps to protect you, it suggested.

  Do I need protection? From Mara? He hadn’t had the sense that she was dangerous, but it was possible he was being naive. There was that unexplained accent, the callouses, and other clues about her that made him question her story.

  I am simply observing that nosy people are sometimes punished by the gods for their nosiness. This sounded like a threat, but for some reason, Ridge couldn’t bring himself to worry.

  Mara smiled over at him.

  “I’ll go ahead and see if I can trade for a horse,” she said. “There are decent trails the rest of the way out of the mountains, so a horse could handle them.”

  “You’ll go ahead? Why don’t I go ahead with you? Maybe someone in that settlement will recognize me and feel kindly toward pilots. Kindly enough to lend a horse. Or perhaps two horses.”

  She kept mentioning a horse, but they would make better time with two, if two could be found. Besides, he was skeptical about riding double with her. She had been sleeping close at night, offering to share her single blanket with him, and giving him smiles that mixed between shy and flirtatious.

  “I’ll take care of it.” Mara started to jog ahead.

  “I’ll come with you. In addition to a horse, I wouldn’t mind seeing if someone has a razor I can borrow.” He rubbed his jaw, then wrinkled his nose as he caught a whiff of his armpit. “Some soap, too, perhaps.”

  She paused, frowning back at him. “You should wait outside of the village. Someone might see your injuries and try to take advantage of you.”

  See his injuries? Aside from the sore muscles, he had amazingly few after that crash. He had removed the bandages and found scars beneath them rather than fresh scabs, making him wonder how many days he had lost being unconscious.

  “I’ll take the risk,” Ridge said firmly. “I don’t think I look so sickly and anemic as to be wolf bait.”

  If anything, people would see Mara, who stood more than half a foot shorter than him and appeared much more innocent, as a target, but he had visited enough small villages in his life to know that the residents were usually hospitable.

  “I don’t think it’s a good idea.” Mara looked up the trail and toward the trees, almost like a doe poised to flee. Maybe she thought that if she disappeared, he couldn’t find the village on his own? Even if finding things from the air was easier, nobody had ever had reason to mock his sense of direction.

  “I’ll come anyway.” He pointed at the collar of his uniform jacket. Though it wa
s decorated with dirt, grass stains, and a couple of rips, the rank tabs had survived. “Officers are supposed to be in charge of things, you know. Especially generals.” His mind still boggled at the notion that sometime since he’d lost his memories, he had let someone promote him.

  “Officers are in charge of soldiers. I’m not a soldier.”

  “Well, at least let me be in charge of myself, eh?”

  Her face took on a mulish cast, but he kept walking down the trail, his step determined. And his ongoing suspicions about her returned—why didn’t she want him to contact other people? A part of him almost doubted his belief that he was truly in the Ice Blades. What if he was in Cofahre somewhere, and he was about to find out? The stars had been the same when he’d gazed into the clear sky the night before, but that didn’t prove much. Parts of the empire were at the same latitude as Iskandia. Still, the peaks seemed familiar, even to a city boy who hadn’t spent much time in the mountains. The Ice Blades were visible from the capital, after all.

  “I’m sorry.” Mara had let him pass by but she hurried to catch up and walk beside him. “I’m afraid you won’t need me anymore once we’re with other people.” She clasped his hand.

  “Ah.” Ridge debated whether to extract himself from her grip or not. If that was her fear, it was a true enough one. He hadn’t enjoyed having to depend on someone else, and he looked forward to returning to the city and his squadron. He hoped that seeing his comrades would punt his memory into working again. If nothing else, a doctor should have some ideas. “I’ll always be grateful that you helped me.”

  “But you are planning to leave,” she said sadly. “I thought you might take me with you to the capital. That’s where you work, isn’t it? I’ve never seen a big city.” She smiled up at him, her eyes bright.

  The words were believable—he could understand that a rural woman might see him as a way to a more exciting life—but there was calculation in those eyes. She was trying to manipulate him. Over the years, he’d had numerous women try to ensnare him, thinking they could use him as a way to a better life. It bemused him somewhat, since army officers didn’t make piles of money. Anyone who saw his house on base could tell he wasn’t rich, but he supposed they imagined his days to be glorious and interesting. He’d managed to avoid entrapments thus far and had learned to be careful with his dalliances. He hated it when he ended up feeling like a callous ass because he couldn’t be what women wanted.

  “It’s not nearly as peaceful in the city as it is out here,” Ridge said.

  Mara’s face fell, and there he was, feeling like an ass again. She had saved his life.

  “I can take you back and show you around,” he found himself saying, and it was as if the words were being pulled out of his mouth by someone else. Strange.

  “Oh? Wonderful.” She gripped his hand tighter, swinging it as they walked. “Are you married, Ridge?”

  “Uh, what?” Sweat beaded on his forehead, and it had nothing to do with the exertion of the walk. “I mean, no. I shouldn’t be.”

  He couldn’t imagine it. Given the way his first forty years had gone, he seemed destined for bachelorhood. He grimaced as he thought of his fortieth birthday when Captain Crash had tried to set him up with a woman he might like, an artist like his mom. Except she had been nothing like his mom. She’d made those pots with human hair incorporated in them. And she’d had that collection of used butcher knives as wall art in her dark warehouse apartment. She had been so delighted when those mousetraps had snapped while he’d been there. He hadn’t stuck around long enough to ask if she incorporated the captured creatures into her art as well.

  Missing memories or not, Ridge was certain that he was not married.

  “Ridge?”

  “I’m sorry, what?”

  Had she said something else? He had been too busy remembering and shuddering. Sure, things like that he could recall.

  “I asked if you had any lady friends you were involved with.” She still wore her smile, her arm swinging casually as she held his hand, but her eyes were intent. Intensely intent.

  “No. I don’t think so.”

  “Good.”

  “Not according to my mother,” he said, struggling for a dry, nonchalant tone. And a way to divert this conversation to another topic. He’d liked it better when Mara hadn’t been speaking.

  “She’d like you to marry?”

  “Oh yes. And to have children. Lots of them.”

  “Do you want children?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “I don’t either.”

  “No?”

  “I just like to have a good time. It’s lonely out here in the mountains.”

  “I imagine it would be.”

  She stopped in the trail, and since their hands were linked, he perforce stopped too. “I’m sure this has been an unpleasant experience for you, but I’ve enjoyed your company.”

  She had? He hadn’t been very witty or charming. Of course, that was her fault, for being on the odd side and disappearing whenever he asked questions.

  “Good,” he said, because she was gazing up at him and seemed to expect him to say something.

  “You meant what you said?” Mara asked. “You’ll take me with you to the capital?”

  “Sure.” He did not know what he had been thinking, other than that he owed her a debt, but he wouldn’t go back on his word.

  “Can we see the king?”

  Ridge shifted uneasily, once again getting that feeling that she was trying to manipulate him into something. “If you’re there when he does one of his speeches, anyone can see him.”

  “Will you take me to see one of his speeches?” she asked shyly, easing closer to him, her free hand coming to rest on his waist.

  “Sure,” he said again, mostly because he was relieved she hadn’t asked for more, like a private audience. As he’d said, anyone could attend the speeches. Angulus was well guarded for those, so it wasn’t as if taking her would present a security risk.

  “Thank you,” she said earnestly. “I can’t wait to see the city. And to be there with you.”

  “Uh.” He was on the verge of stepping back and trying to extricate his hand from hers when she leaned forward, rising on her tiptoes to kiss him.

  It wasn’t the chaste kiss of some innocent mountain girl who’d had little experience with men. It was the raw, hungry, and demanding kiss of someone used to getting her way, claiming whomever she wished for her own, and it took him by surprise. At first, he merely stood there with his mouth open. His body started to react as she pressed against him, his thoughts of suspicion and wariness scattering in the face of her naked desire, but he found the wherewithal to step back, lifting a hand to keep her from following.

  She blinked, a puzzled expression crossing her face. Well, that made two of them feeling puzzled.

  “Maybe we should head into the village now,” Ridge said, nodding toward the path. “So we don’t surprise anyone by coming in late at night.”

  Her face still crinkled in confusion, Mara headed down the trail, taking the lead again.

  A chuckle sounded in Ridge’s head. Seven gods, was that the voice of his subconscious again? Cackling now? He’d hoped that voice would disappear once his headaches faded, but if anything, it was developing even more of a personality.

  You’re not what she expected, it said.

  Clearly. Ridge waited until Mara was a dozen steps ahead before following.

  Do you not find her attractive? The voice sounded curious.

  Oh, she’s a beauty. This situation is a little strange, though, don’t you think?

  Certainly. Strange situations rarely keep men from sleeping with her if she wishes it.

  She finds a lot of men out in the mountains, does she? Ridge asked. Those trappers, perhaps?

  The chuckle returned. Perhaps.

  Not for the first time, Ridge wondered why the voice in his head seemed to know more about his companion than he did. He would never admit aloud
his concern that he was going mad, but that gnawed at him. Did his head injury have something to do with it? What if... what if the doctors back home couldn’t figure out what was wrong with him? What if he couldn’t hide the fact that a voice was talking to him? He would be taken off active duty if they found something wrong with him, something that couldn’t be cured. That would mean no more flying, no more working with his teammates, leading them against the nation’s enemies. He stared bleakly toward the sky.

  I’m sorry, the voice said quietly.

  Ridge didn’t want it to be sorry. He wanted it to go away.

  Whether it heard his wishes or not, it fell silent for the rest of the walk.

  A sense of relief came over him when they reached the outskirts of the village. Dealing with new people would be welcome, whether they gave him a horse or not.

  Mara fell back to walk beside him when they came upon the first villagers, two women tossing scraps to pigs in a pen on the outskirts of town. He lifted a hand to the pair, guessing them mother and daughter, and offered a friendly smile, hoping to stave off any natural suspicions of strangers. His uniform, however bedraggled, ought to help. In his experience, most people knew how hard soldiers worked to keep the Cofah from taking over the country again and thought well of them. He just hoped that well-thinking would inspire horse loans.

  “Good evening,” the older woman said over the clucks of chickens behind them. “Are you looking for someone? We don’t have an inn in town, but Brenna and Shuron sometimes put up travelers.”

  Ridge had only been thinking of horses, but the shadows were already deepening in the valley, and a night in a bed did sound fabulous.

  “Hello, ma’am. I’m afraid I don’t have money for a room.” He didn’t know if Mara had any, but he was already beholden to her enough. “My flier crashed in the mountains about fifty miles that way, and I’m lucky to be alive. This young woman found me and has been helping me, but I need to get back to the capital and report in. We saw your smoke, and I thought I’d come by and see if anyone here might be able to lend a horse or two so I can get back sooner.” He eyed the pigs, thinking he wouldn’t mind the loan of a ham too. As much as he appreciated Mara’s foraging abilities, a man could only live so long on rabbit and pheasant. “I can send payment when I get back to my unit. Name’s Ridge, by the way.”