The Dragon Blood Collection, Books 1-3

by Lindsay Buroker

  Hot eddies rose up from below, creating strange air currents that tugged at the balloon. Pools and mud pots burbled as the craft passed over them, and, after hearing Tolemek’s warning, Ridge knew he wouldn’t want to crash. The wicker basket would make a poor shield to keep near-boiling water from seeping inside.

  Without warning, a geyser erupted in front of them. They were floating more than fifty feet above the ground, but the top of the water jet reached far above them. The breeze blew the steam and water droplets toward the balloon. The basket rocked precariously as people shifted away from the spewing hot water.

  “Stay steady,” Ridge said, not leaving his rail. “Even out the weight.” He raised a gloved hand to protect his face from the spray—it was a fine mist at this distance, but the tiny specks still burned. “Sardelle, take us around that, please.” He didn’t know how long the geyser would keep erupting, but the balloon was heading straight for it.

  “Working on it,” she said, her voice tense.

  “Thanks.” He wondered if he should apologize. Just because she had magic, didn’t mean hot air balloons would be a simple thing to navigate. But if she didn’t maneuver them away from the jet soon, they would pass through it, and find out just how much power propelled that water. Ridge’s knuckles tightened as he imagined his men being knocked from the basket, flung out like dolls, to drop fifty feet and land in those bubbling pools.

  “Got any concoctions that will turn that thing off?” Ahn asked.

  “No,” Tolemek said. “Had someone informed me that this was our destination, I might have brought more useful tools.”

  “More likely specimen kits for collecting samples of that weird green stuff growing around the pools down there.”

  “Anyone ever tell you that you have freakishly good eyesight, Ahn?” Ridge asked, though he kept glancing through his gloves to that geyser. More spray was hitting his clothing now, and the hot water bit like acid where it struck flesh. Someone jerked away from what must have been a big splash and cursed.

  “Yes, they have,” Ahn said. “And I’d like to take this moment to thank you tall, looming people for protecting me from the water.”

  The breeze gusted harder, and Ridge realized why Sardelle was having trouble directing them away from the geyser. She was moving them against it, trying to curve around the spraying water. If they went the way the wind wanted to carry them, in the same direction that spray was blowing, that would be an unpleasant trip.

  The balloon pushed into the wind. Sardelle wiped her brow. Sweating in this cold weather? It was hard to imagine using one’s mind could be that taxing, but he appreciated that she was working that hard for them.

  They drew even with the geyser and inched past it. Some of the tension ebbed from Ridge’s shoulders. So long as Sardelle’s concentration didn’t give out, so the wind couldn’t push them into it, they should be fine. Seconds after the balloon cleared the geyser, the spray died down. Within a few more seconds, it disappeared completely. Only a steaming pool below signaled that a geyser existed at all.

  Duck snorted. “Now it goes out.”

  “The timing was… precise,” Tolemek noted.

  Ridge frowned over Ahn’s head at him. “Are you saying your people can control when these things shoot off?” Did that mean someone inside already knew his team was out here and sneaking in on a stolen balloon?

  “I have no idea what these scientists can do. I would not think that possible without magic, but this is not my area of expertise.” Tolemek sounded stiff, as if he resented being lumped in with these people.

  Well, Ridge could soothe his ruffled feathers later. Maybe they could bond over another snowball fight.

  “Even with magic, controlling the geysers would be difficult if not impossible,” Sardelle said. “That’s usually the case when it comes to nature.”

  Ridge remembered the avalanche she had dug him out of. She had later admitted she had tried and failed to divert the snow slide.

  “Neither Jaxi nor I sensed magic being used,” she added.

  One of the mud pots belched loudly below, the stink in the air intensifying.

  “Let’s just get to that mountain as quickly as possible,” Ridge said, then, realizing that sounded like an order, laid a hand on Sardelle’s to let her know he appreciated all she was doing for them. He had to remember that neither she nor Tolemek were his troops, sworn to obey senior officers in the duty of the king. They had volunteered to come along.

  Sardelle leaned against his shoulder. He didn’t know if that was a sign of understanding or acceptance, or if it meant she was tired. She wasn’t talking in his head at the moment.

  He left his hand on hers and, as they drifted closer to the mountain, watched for lights or some sign that another person waited outside, prepared to receive signals from the balloon observer—there had been a light and mirror kit in the bottom of the basket, presumably for that purpose. But he didn’t see a soul.

  “Anyone out here?” he murmured to Sardelle.

  “I sense people inside, but not outside.”

  “Still no dragons, right?” Ridge smiled, meaning it as a joke, but not entirely. If they had nearly been taken out by a geyser, he didn’t want to imagine how vulnerable they would be to something that could fly and breathe fire.

  “Trust me, I’ll let you know if a creature believed extinct for the last thousand years plucks at my senses.”

  Ridge gazed toward the mountains rising to the north, the same ones they had been flying along and through since leaving the sea. In focusing on this mound among the geysers, he had neglected considering watchtowers or outposts that might overlook the area from those peaks. He thought of the old legends that always had dragons living in caves in mountains. But if Sardelle didn’t sense anything, he would trust that there was nothing out there.

  “We better go down soon,” Duck said, “or we’ll overshoot the mound and end up landing on a geyser.”

  “Can you magic us down there?” Ridge asked Sardelle.

  She leaned past Ahn and dumped the coals into the ashbin to put out the flames heating the air.

  “Or we could do it that way,” Ridge said.

  “I’ll try to bring us down on that little strip of gravel next to the doors,” Sardelle said.

  They were above the mountain now, and Ridge could see a ledge about six feet wide that circled the conical base. Or outpost. Or laboratory. He wouldn’t know what to call it until he had the tour. He could also make out a couple of vents near the top, each spewing puffs of smoke. Nothing that might be a window or peephole had come into view, though. He wondered if it was too much to hope their approach wouldn’t be noticed.

  “Not much of a target,” Tolemek said.

  “It’ll have to do.” Sardelle had her eyes closed as the balloon dipped down.

  Ridge decided not to find that alarming. Sorcerers could see with their minds, right? “If you land us on it without tipping the basket into that pool, we’ll make you an honorary Wolf Squadron pilot.”

  Another geyser erupted, this one farther out and not as boisterous as the first. Maybe they were simply natural occurrences after all. Ridge still didn’t see a road or path of any kind leading to the metal double doors, but he couldn’t imagine venturing out there on foot even if there had been one.

  The corner of the basket scraped against the rocky side of the miniature mountain, jostling everyone against everyone else. Sardelle was erring on the safe side, and Ridge couldn’t blame her for that, but he hoped nobody on the other side of that wall would be able to hear the scrapes and bumps.

  “When the colonel promised butt touching, he wasn’t kidding,” Duck said. “Watch out for Raptor. Her guns are poky.”

  “As the commanding officer, and presumably the most mature person present, I’m going to resist the urge to make a lewd comment,” Ridge announced. They scraped the wall again, but they were only eight feet from the ground now. Almost safe. From the balloon flight anyway.

  �
��Who told you that you were mature, Zirkander?” Tolemek asked.

  “Perhaps I should have said advanced in years.”

  “Perhaps.”

  With another soft scrape, the balloon settled onto the ground. The corner was tilted upward, resting on the slope of the mountain, but Ridge couldn’t fault Sardelle’s aim, not when a bubbling and gurgling pool lay less than a foot away in the other direction.

  He climbed out first, landing on packed gravel. Sardelle had said nobody was out here, but he kept a pistol in hand, nonetheless.

  “How does one deflate the balloon without having it smother the basket and fall into the water?” Tolemek wondered, eyeing the black-and-gray material above them. It hadn’t yet lost the swell of its shape, but it probably would before long. “Do we need to leave someone here to make sure we can get away again once we’re ready to leave?”

  “There must be something inside that can take the workers away from here if need be,” Ridge said. “After all, this thing came from somewhere in there.” He didn’t want to separate the team and start leaving people behind anyway.

  Tolemek didn’t question him further.

  While the others hopped out of the basket, Ridge walked along the base of the mountain toward the alcove that held the doors. They were tall enough and wide enough that a two-seat flyer could have navigated through them, though he couldn’t imagine landing and taking off without a runway, unless that was built into the mountain itself somehow.

  He froze as soon as he poked his head around the corner for a better look. Clearly what Sardelle had meant was that there was nobody living out here. He gulped as he stared at two bodies hanging on hooks on either side of the closed doors.

  Though Ridge wasn’t certain he wanted to see better, he had to know who the people were—who they had been. He dug into his utility pouch for his small tin of matches. He lit one, the flame flaring and reflecting off heavy rivets on the steel door. It also illuminated the bodies.

  On both of them, the skin had been flayed—no burned—off, leaving the facial features unrecognizable, but the shredded remains of gray-and-blue Iskandian army uniforms were all too familiar. Much of the hair had been removed—burned or melted away, but from the sizes and shapes, one clearly feminine, Ridge was fairly certain he was looking at the bodies of Captains Nowon and Kaika. He let the match fall to the ground and dropped his chin to his fist, guilt and regret gnawing at him. If he hadn’t left that posturing colonel behind, was it possible the mission would have gone more smoothly? That the elite troops team might still be alive?

  “Oh hells,” Duck whispered, stopping beside Ridge. The others soon gathered in front of the doors too.

  Tolemek shook his head slowly. Sardelle closed her eyes and looked away. It was a disturbing image. Ridge was glad the sulfurous scent all around them overrode the butcher-house smell that had to be lingering around the bodies.

  “Should we cut them down, sir?” Ahn asked.

  “If we can get them on the way out, we will.” Ridge would like to give the officers burials somewhere, but the sooner they finished what they had come for, the sooner they might escape with their own lives intact. He didn’t want to see the rest of his team suffer this fate.

  Ridge took a breath and walked up to the double doors. There wasn’t a handle, latch, or even a keyhole. He looked back at Sardelle.

  “Tolemek has a knack for opening doors or making them where they don’t exist.” She sounded weary, like she would prefer to hand this task off to another.

  “Yes, he does,” Ahn said.

  If there was an alternative, Ridge would gladly save Sardelle’s powers for when they truly needed them. “Tolemek?”

  “It will take a couple of minutes.” Tolemek stepped forward, and the satchel he always carried clanked as he dug into it.

  Ridge tried pushing and pulling on the doors while he waited. He didn’t expect them to budge—and they didn’t—but one had to try. In the darkness, he wasn’t positive what Tolemek was doing, but he seemed to be drawing a circle on one of the doors. After a moment, he stepped back.

  Ridge shifted his weight from foot to foot, resisting the urge to demand what was supposed to be happening. Eventually, Tolemek planted a boot on the center of the circle and shoved. To Ridge’s surprise, the movement dislodged the metal. With a resounding clang that made Ridge wince, the circle fell through, landing on a stone floor on the other side. Light spilled out from within. Ridge dropped to his knee to the side of the hole, pistol in hand, and leaned in, prepared for a firefight if legions of guards were descending on the door.

  But the chamber inside, a cavernous space with ceilings so high he couldn’t see them from the doorway, was silent. Black marble tiles stretched out in all directions. There were doors to what might have been a lift at the far end of the space. He glimpsed alcoves and recessed doors in the side walls, too, though they were also a long walk from his observing point. Everything was. This chamber looked to take up most of the ground floor of the mountain base. Maybe it was a hangar. Many of the tiles were chipped or cracked, and he spotted a couple of old oil stains.

  The only sign of humanity was a guard in a crimson Cofah uniform lying on the floor a couple feet from the big metal circle. Ridge’s first thought was that he had been crushed by the massive falling disk, but no part of his body was trapped beneath it.

  “Looks clear, sir,” Ahn whispered. She had knelt on the other side of the hole from him, her rifle at the ready.

  Without taking his eyes from the room, Ridge stepped through the hole. The large chamber was lit from above, dozens of bulb-shaped paper lamps hanging suspended from the ceiling at all different heights. Some were even moving about. Strange. Ah, but no, they weren’t hanging at all but floating. The candles or whatever fuel was burning must be heating the air within the lampshade, like the burner had heated the hot air balloon outside.

  Interesting, but not the ultra modern technology they had been sent here to learn about. Ridge shifted to the side, so the others could enter, and so he could check the guard. It was one thing seeing dead enemies of the Cofah hung up as a warning in front of their secret laboratory, but one didn’t expect the guards to be dead too.

  The man’s neck had been slit. No need to check the pulse, but Ridge touched his skin anyway, trying to get a gauge for when this had happened—and who might have done it. If his people had both died, did this mean they had some other ally in here? Or maybe the Cofah had some other enemy worried about secret bases and dragon blood. The guard’s skin was faintly warm.

  “This didn’t happen long ago,” Ridge said, then chastised himself for stating the obvious. Of course, it had to have happened after the balloon observer left, or the man wouldn’t have gone out on his normal rounds. Then again, Ridge couldn’t prove the balloon man had left through these doors. He couldn’t imagine where else such a craft might be launched, but there weren’t any other baskets lined up along the walls.

  By now, the rest of the squadron had entered the chamber, and everyone was looking at him. That didn’t normally faze him—he was in charge, after all—but he had no idea where they should start searching. He turned three hundred and sixty degrees, seeking inspiration from the chamber. He halted to stare at notable decorations, ones he hadn’t registered on his first inspection because they were so big as to seem like part of the architecture.

  “Uhm?” Ridge muttered, stepping back and nearly tripping over his heels as he craned his neck to see into the shadows above the lanterns.

  What he had mistaken for columns were the legs of enormous blocky statues. With patchwork metal bodies of bronze, steel, and more alloys Ridge couldn’t identify, they looked like some child’s project composed from junkyard scraps, except on an enormous scale. They were humanoid with rectangular torsos and square heads that sat flush against the broad flat shoulders, with nothing resembling a neck. They had simple faces, rectangular holes for mouths, circular holes for noses, and vertical rectangles for eyes, the latter
appearing closed, metal lids drawn down in sleep.

  “I believe those represent the Tangula Tarath from Cofah mythology,” Apex noted. “The ambulatory statues protected the gods’ sky palaces from dragons, back when humans were dwelling in caves and hunting mammoths with stone-tipped spears.”

  “Whatever they are, I really hope they don’t come to life,” Duck said.

  Ridge almost snorted. Come to life. How could they? But he caught himself before he expelled that breath. If unmanned aircraft could be powered and directed by dragon blood, what if giant statues could be too?

  “Let’s get moving before they decide to,” Ridge said. “Sardelle, any idea of where the stash of blood might be?”

  Her eyes stared off into the distance. He was starting to recognize that expression as the one she wore when she was discussing things with her sword. With Jaxi, he amended. Somehow it sounded less odd to his mundane little mind to think of Jaxi as a person rather than a pointy stick.

  Good for your mind. I’m less likely to harass people who use my name.

  Before Ridge could reply, or decide if he should flush with embarrassment, Sardelle was answering his question.

  “The heaviest concentration is up there.” She pointed toward the ceiling.

  “Let’s try that way then.” Ridge pointed toward the far wall where sliding metal doors waited—all of the other exits from the chamber were single doors. “It looks like a lift.”

  Nobody objected to his assessment. Either they thought he had a clue, or they didn’t have any better ideas. Inspiring.

  He, Ahn, Duck, and Apex walked on either side of the group, their rifles cradled in their arms and pointed toward the perimeter, ready to shoot if any guards trotted out of those doors. Ahn looked alert and unintimidated, her calm gaze roaming about, taking in everything as they advanced. Duck and Apex didn’t look quite as professional. Their boots clomped a little loudly, and their shoulders were tense, as were the fingers on the triggers. Ridge tried not to think about how Kaika and Nowon, true professionals when it came to sneaking into places, had been discovered. He had Sardelle and Tolemek. That ought to give Ridge an advantage they hadn’t had, no matter how skilled they had been at stealth, attack, and evasion. Still, the lack of columns or any sort of features that could be used for cover in a firefight made him nervous as they traveled across the very large, very open chamber.