Revelations

  “No,” Trip said, thinking they believed he’d read Jylea’s thoughts and discovered something enlightening. He had read them, according to Jaxi, but that wasn’t what had enlightened him. “I was thinking about what you said yesterday. That we had to fly instead of going on foot because of water blocking the way.”

  “Yes…” Jylea raised her eyebrows.

  “The dragons might wait and attack us there. If they were to bring us down on the ice, the dragon-slaying swords would be there for anyone to retrieve, but if they fell into the ocean—how deep is it under the ice here?”

  “Approximately one mile,” Jylea said.

  “Then we have nothing that could go down and get them. They’d be lost forever.”

  “A sorceress could levitate—”

  “No,” Trip interrupted her as Kiadarsa also shook her head.

  “Nobody can use magic on them,” Kiadarsa said. “Nor can anyone with dragon blood touch them. They would be stuck down there indefinitely.”

  “Then we can’t let them fall in,” Blazer said, her hand straying to the hilt of hers again. This time, she let it rest there, not trying to stop it.

  Trip hoped she was thinking of using it on dragons and not on him.

  “How far are we from the spot?” Trip asked Jylea. “And how wide is it?”

  She looked at him without answering. Considering whether she should?

  He understood why they wouldn’t trust Iskandians in general, but why hesitate to answer in this situation? They were all on the airship together.

  “You might as well tell him, Jylea,” Kiadarsa said. “You’re not trained to keep secrets from mages.”

  Blazer eyed Trip. Trip shrugged at her. Her gaze flicked toward his waist where Jaxi hung. He’d left the Cofah soulblade in the flier, but he’d learned his lesson and didn’t go many places without Jaxi now. Even to the head.

  Yes, and let me tell you how exciting it is to watch a man pee.

  Can’t you turn your back?

  How would that work? Her hilt pulsed a subtle gold for a moment.

  He was fairly certain that was meant as a reminder of her swordness, but Jylea, who’d been looking at the blade, twitched. Then sighed.

  “Only about a half hour,” she said. “And it’s about twenty miles wide, so it won’t take us long to cross it.”

  “Assuming there are no complications,” Kiadarsa grumbled.

  “It’s fortunate we have so many mages among us now, isn’t it?” Jylea said.

  “It may prove so—that is still debatable. But even so, mages aren’t the equivalent of dragons.”

  Blazer gripped Trip’s shoulder and nodded for him to walk with her. They headed closer to Rysha and Kaika’s ongoing sparring session, and he hoped she just wanted to get a good look at that, rather than question him about the mage comments. Given the firmness of the grip on his shoulder, he doubted it.

  He stopped before they got too close, because he didn’t want the women, prompted by their swords, to feel the urge to run over and attack him. As it was, being surrounded by all those blades made him uneasy.

  Blazer stopped too and released him. They were out of the Cofahs’ earshot, and she looked frankly at him. “They’re just calling you a mage because you’re wandering around with a soulblade, right?”

  “Technically, two soulblades.” Trip wondered if he could sidestep the question without outright lying.

  General Zirkander hadn’t been even remotely fazed by the idea of one of his pilots having some magical powers, but he was clearly an exception to the rule and not the example.

  “Uh huh, but that’s why they believe it, right?”

  Trip believed Kiadarsa sensed that he had dragon blood, but he wasn’t positive. He shrugged. “I suppose it’s a logical assumption on their part, and I haven’t corrected it, since they’re not exactly trustworthy allies.”

  “No, definitely not. But could our own evasiveness backfire on us? I’m inclined not to tell them anything, either, but what happens if they expect you to be able to hurl fireballs, and then you can’t?”

  “Jaxi can.”

  “Will that be enough?”

  “Nothing she or a sorcerer could do against a dragon would be enough. That’s why this is important.” He gestured to the sparring women.

  Sweat dripped from both their faces, and their movements were slower now, with longer pauses between attacks, than they had been when he first woke up. He was surprised they’d been going this long. Trip well remembered from his basic army training how even a few minutes of hand-to-hand combat could leave a man panting.

  He was impressed with how much force the women threw behind their attacks. They definitely weren’t taking their training session lightly. Kaika, he noticed, had whiplike movements, and seemed to get a lot of power from the speed of the blade even though the way she slung it around appeared almost effortless. Her brow wasn’t as sweat-slathered as Rysha’s, nor was she breathing as hard. She looked like she could go all day.

  Rysha managed to block her attacks, but Trip thought she put more effort into it than Kaika did. Muscling the movements instead of relaxing her arms and letting everything flow. But he would probably be the same way. Telling the body to relax was one thing. Having it obey was another.

  The swords did not appear to be influencing them, not the way Rysha’s had the night she’d battled the sorceress. If that was true, and this was only her second time picking up a blade, Trip decided she was doing extremely well. She always seemed in balance, even when scurrying back under a flurry of blows, and he admired her athleticism. And her sheer determination.

  Kaika launched a series of high attacks, forcing Rysha to parry above her head, before whipping her blade down toward her thigh. Rysha jumped back as she jerked her sword down, but she wasn’t quite fast enough. Kaika’s sword tapped the inside of her thigh.

  “Thirty-seven,” Kaika said, backing off. “Break?”

  Rysha huffed out a breath and wiped away a damp lock of hair that had escaped her bun. Her spectacles were so fogged that Trip couldn’t imagine how she’d seen any of those attacks.

  “If you’re tired, ma’am. I don’t want to overwork you, since we may have a real battle coming.”

  “That’s very thoughtful, what with my advanced age.”

  “Lieutenants have to be mindful of their elders.”

  “How many points have you gotten, Ravenwood?” Blazer asked dryly.

  “Uhm, I… believe I lost count.” Rysha looked at Trip.

  He braced himself, expecting the sword to turn it into an irritated glower, but she wore a sheepish expression instead.

  “Because there have been so many?” Blazer asked.

  “Yes, that’s it.”

  “It’s thirty-seven to two,” Kaika said, smirking.

  She grabbed a towel hanging from the railing. They would need to dry off and put their parkas, scarfs, and gloves back on before their bodies chilled.

  “You lost count of two, Lieutenant?” Blazer’s eyes crinkled.

  “Well, a lot of other things happened between the two points.”

  “Like Kaika’s thirty-odd points?”

  “Those would be the things, yes.” Rysha shrugged at Trip, still looking sheepish.

  It was only then that he realized she felt embarrassed or chagrined that she hadn’t been doing better. Or maybe that she hadn’t done better in front of him? He’d thought she had been doing great for a beginner.

  “When did you pick up swords, Kaika?” Blazer asked, as Rysha sheathed the sword and also grabbed a towel, using it first to wipe off her spectacles. “I didn’t think you cared for anything larger than a knife unless it could explode.”

  “I didn’t, but there have been a couple of times in the last three years where I’ve almost gotten stuck with Kasandral. Maybe it was fate that I would end up wielding one of these.” She ticked a fingernail against the hilt of her sword.

  It and Rysha’s weapon both glowed green currently. Tr
ip wasn’t sure if that had to do with his proximity, the dragons’ proximity, or if they were simply excited—could magical swords get excited?—over the sparring match.

  Of course magical swords can get excited, Jaxi said. Right now, I’m most eager to go into battle. I want to see if we can actually kill a dragon this time. We were so close last time.

  It’s hard to finish them off when they can simply fly away when they’re wounded.

  I’ve noticed. It must be convenient to have wings.

  I imagine so. Trip pictured a winged soulblade flying after a dragon.

  “Once Colonel Therrik got back from his duty in the mountains,” Kaika said, “I asked him to give me some lessons.”

  Blazer’s upper lip curled. “Why would you intentionally want to spend time with that man?”

  “He’s really good at what he does.”

  “What’s that?” Trip asked.

  “Making people dead.”

  “Ah.”

  “You didn’t have to do any favors for him in exchange for the lessons, did you?” Blazer asked, her lip curling further.

  Something at the edge of Trip’s awareness changed, and he gazed out over the railing.

  “No,” Kaika said. “He’s married now, you know. Faithfully, I presume. He has his flaws, but disloyalty isn’t one of them. Anyway, he loves sharp pointy things, and he’s amenable to teaching people how to use them, for free. As long as you’re not on the list of individuals who irk him.”

  “That’s a long list, isn’t it?” Blazer asked.

  “I believe his list could fill a book. Chapter One would start with Zirkander.” Kaika grinned. “I was highly amused when Therrik married Zirkander’s cousin, and they became in-laws. I dearly wish someone would invite me to a family dinner. If there are such things.”

  Trip, his focus outward instead of on the conversation, realized what had changed. He no longer sensed the dragons. He hadn’t noticed them flying away; they had simply disappeared from his awareness.

  He looked toward Jylea and Kiadarsa, wondering if the sorceress had noticed anything. She was also frowning over the railing. The snow had stopped, the clouds lightening, but visibility wasn’t anywhere near twenty miles.

  Kiadarsa might have sensed him looking at her, for she turned and met his eyes. Trip started to take a step toward her, but she spoke into his mind.

  Can you sense them? she asked.

  A surge of panic ran through him. He hadn’t anticipated that she would speak telepathically to him. She was sure to think it odd if all he did was think his response and expect her to pick it up without projecting or whatever it was sorcerers did.

  They disappeared, he thought and tried to thrust the words into her mind—he would have to ask Jaxi for a lesson on this.

  She staggered back, touching her temple and wincing.

  What are you doing to the woman? Jaxi asked. Didn’t I already tell you that you shout? Bring it down a notch. Or ten.

  I don’t understand.

  Just look at the person you want to talk to and think the words toward them. You’ve already figured out telepathy.

  I… have?

  And I concur, Jaxi added. The abruptness with which the dragons disappeared is suspicious. I believe they’re masking their auras.

  How close are we to the water?

  Less than five miles.

  “Trip?” Blazer prodded him with her rolled-up magazine. She, Kaika, and Rysha were all looking at him, as were Jylea and Kiadarsa. How had he ended up surrounded by women?

  “I think the dragons are coming,” he said, “but they may be in disguise.”

  “How does that work?” Blazer asked. “Hats and stick-on beards?”

  “We’ll find out soon.” Not waiting for his commander’s orders, Trip jogged toward the fliers. “Leftie, Duck, you ready to fly?”

  “Wait,” Blazer said, lunging to catch him by the shoulder. “You and your two magical friends are staying on the airship.”

  “What?” Trip blurted, alarmed. “I have to fly.”

  “It won’t be a good idea to have you up there with a magic-hating sword at your back, and since machine guns don’t do anything to dragons, there’s no point in you flying around up there.”

  “I can still harry them with the help of the soulblades.”

  “Harry them from the deck. The airship is going to need some protection.”

  “But, Major—”

  “Do it. No more arguing.” Blazer ran to meet Leftie and Duck, yelling for Kaika and Rysha to climb into the fliers’ back seats with their swords.

  Dreyak must have heard the orders being given because he burst out from belowdecks, his scimitar and pistol in hand, and he also raced toward the fliers. Blazer stopped him with an outstretched hand, then pointed to Trip.

  He said something—a protest?—but Blazer turned her back on him and vaulted into the cockpit.

  Trip tried his best not to glower at her, but it was hard. How was he supposed to stand down here while his comrades flew out to meet the dragons and risk their lives? He vowed to hop into his flier as soon as it looked like he was needed, whether Blazer said it was all right or not.

  Boots pounded on the deck behind Trip, the two Cofah soldiers running up with rifles. “Which way are the dragons coming from?” They looked toward Kiadarsa, who had drifted closer to Trip.

  “We’re not sure,” he said. “We don’t sense them anymore.”

  “Uh, and that’s a problem?” a soldier asked.

  Trip nodded firmly. “I’m certain it is.”

  9

  Sitting behind Duck in his flier, Rysha gripped Dorfindral as they coasted in large circles around the airship, its huge black envelope in stark contrast to the snow and ice far below it. And the ice-rimmed blue water two miles ahead of it.

  Though Rysha assumed she would primarily use the sword against the dragon, she had mounted her rifle in the fancy rack Trip had affixed to the side of the seat well. She’d grinned when she spotted it and looked forward to having the leisure to see what all it could do, but for now, it kept her rifle secure and out of the way, and also close at hand.

  Rysha glanced toward the port side of the airship as they flew past, at the stone-faced Trip down there, the two soulblades hanging from his belt. He stood by the rail with the sorceress, Jylea, Dreyak, the two Cofah soldiers, and a few of the researchers. His arms were folded over his chest, and he kept glancing at the lone flier that remained on deck, as if he was contemplating living up to his name and taking a “side trip” against orders.

  Rysha didn’t know why Blazer had ordered him to stay down there. To defend the airship? That made sense, but it wasn’t as if they weren’t all going to defend the airship. Those in the fliers would simply do it from the air.

  “Not much threatening out here, is there?” Duck asked.

  “Nope,” Leftie said. “Kind of a pretty day. If you don’t mind looking at it through the ice crystals edging your goggles.”

  Blazer, up in the lead, banked so they wouldn’t get too far away from the airship. They flew in a route that would allow them to circle it at a distance.

  “Anyone see any dragons on the horizon yet?” Blazer asked.

  “Nothing except birds, so far,” Leftie said.

  The sky had cleared enough that Rysha could see a seal colony near the water’s edge, too, but there was nothing larger around.

  “Birds can be dangerous if they get in your propeller,” Duck said. “Or poop on the cockpit when you’re in it.”

  “Is that dangerous or simply inconvenient?” Rysha asked.

  “It depends on if it hits your goggles and spatters, making it so you can’t see good.”

  “Why do I have the feeling you’re speaking from experience, Captain Duck?” Leftie asked.

  “Because I’m an experienced pilot. And because nature is drawn to me.”

  “Nature, right.”

  Down on the deck, Trip broke away from the others and sprinted towa
rd his flier. Rysha thought he was going to power it up, but he slapped the communication crystal instead.

  “They’re coming,” he blurted, his voice sounding from Duck’s control panel.

  “Which direction?” Blazer asked.

  “The west. They’ve shape-shifted and dampened down their auras. That’s why they seemed to disappear.”

  “Shape-shifted?” Duck asked. “Into what?”

  “Pigeons, I think. Birds, for sure. Innocuous-looking ones. I think they’re hoping to get right on top of us before we notice them.”

  “Or they’re planning a special bird-only attack on Duck’s goggles,” Rysha said.

  Trip didn’t respond. He probably hadn’t heard the comment. Which was fine. It had been a silly one.

  “Are there really pigeons in the Antarctic?” Blazer asked.

  “Polar pigeons,” Rysha said. “They’re actually a different species and white instead of gray, but the first Cofah explorers found them as irritating as their local pigeons and gave them a similar name without worrying about scientific accuracy.”

  “Damned ignorant Cofah,” Blazer said.

  “An early Iskandian explorer dubbed a constellation only visible from the southern hemisphere Walrus Penis.”

  “That’s not ignorant. It’s just crude.”

  “It’s good that we Iskandians are so much more evolved.”

  “Absolutely,” Blazer said.

  “You ready, Dorfindral?” Rysha rubbed the sword hilt with her thumb, wondering if the shape-shifting would fool it.

  But it flared brightly, as if it knew exactly what was coming.

  “Uhm, are those all dragons?” Duck pointed to his left.

  A huge flock of white pigeons was heading their way.

  “Trip?” Blazer asked.

  “I see them.” Trip dangled half out of his cockpit, his head thrust down into the seat well, as if he was trying to repair something. How could he see anything? “And no, they’re not. It’s just the two, but they’re camouflaging themselves among the rest of that flock, and they’re coercing the pigeons to head this way.”

  Trip jumped down, the communication crystal from the cockpit now in his hand. He ran back to the railing, pulling Jaxi free and standing there, glaring at the oncoming flock.