And she liked the way he kissed too. At first, their lips had been cold from the frigid air, but sparks kindled, and fire ran up and down her nerves, heating her body all over. She forgot the cold, forgot everything except him.
She longed to slip her hands under his parka—under his shirt—and run them over his warm skin, but a door slammed somewhere, and Trip drew back, breaking the kiss. He didn’t look away though. He held her gaze for a long minute and rested his hand on the side of her head.
“We should do this again with less clothing on,” Rysha whispered. Only after the words came out did she realize she might have implied, or suggested, more than kissing. But maybe that was all right.
“I agree.” He hugged her once more before releasing her and turning to face the two people who had walked out on deck.
Blazer and Kaika. Rysha blew out a slow breath, wishing they hadn’t shown up and that it wasn’t time to leave for the mission. But they had, and it was.
Resolutely, Rysha walked toward the fliers.
Trip matched her pace, sticking to her side. “Are you going to tell them?”
It took her a moment to bring her mind back to what they’d originally been speaking about.
“I think so. But if I have a stupid moment and don’t, will you help me get the sword back afterward?”
“Of course.”
She expected him to add, “But I think you should do the smart thing and tell them beforehand,” but he didn’t. She appreciated that, appreciated that he wouldn’t try to push her, that he would support her even if she was doing something to hurt her career.
“Ravenwood,” Blazer said as they approached. “Trip. We’re going to leave in our fliers and head to the ruins separately from the Cofah.”
“I know,” Trip said.
Blazer frowned at Rysha.
“Jaxi told me when I woke up,” Trip said.
Now that they were closer to the fliers and Dorfindral, Rysha sensed the blade’s discontent. She doubted the sword knew she had been kissing Trip, or what kissing was, but it definitely didn’t want her standing next to him now.
Too bad.
“Ah,” Blazer said. “Then I don’t need to fill you in on anything?”
“No, ma’am. My flier is packed.”
“Good. We’re just waiting for Leftie, Duck, and Dreyak then.”
“Dreyak is coming?” Kaika asked.
“I just asked him if he wanted to stay, but he said his assignment was to stick with us.” Blazer’s mouth twisted. “Maybe I shouldn’t have given him an option.”
“He’s been useful to have on the team,” Trip said. “And he’s argued with his own people more than he has with us.”
“That is true, isn’t it?” Rysha wondered a bit at that.
Blazer only grunted.
Rysha took a deep breath. “Major Blazer?” She glanced at Kaika. Rysha doubted Kaika would understand her motives, but hoped she might back her up anyway. Having a protégé/mentor relationship should be good for more than getting a list of sex props, shouldn’t it?
“Yes?”
“You remember that I had concerns about the Cofah being left without any defenses.”
“Yes.” Blazer’s face grew guarded, wary.
“I’d like to temporarily lend them my sword.”
“What?”
“Dorfindral.”
“I know its name.”
“If they get attacked by dragons, then at least they’ll have something to fight with,” Rysha said, glad for Trip’s presence at her side, even if he wasn’t saying anything. “And the dragons might hesitate to attack the airship if it’s on board. If they don’t have the blade, the dragons could make quick work of them and then have the time to turn their attention to us. The Cofah would likely prove a better diversion if they could make the battle last.” That, of course, wasn’t why Rysha wanted to lend them the sword, but she thought it might be more likely to sway Blazer. “Did you know that dragons, though they resent being compared to animals, are like many other predators with a self-preservation instinct and will weigh their options and consider the strength of their opponent before picking a fight?”
Blazer dropped her face into her hand.
“Is that, by chance, agreement, ma’am?” Rysha asked. Or defeat?
“No,” Blazer snapped. “Get in your flier. With your sword.”
“But—”
“Even if I didn’t think we would need it for tonight’s battle, I wouldn’t authorize giving an incredible weapon capable of helping defend our country to the Cofah.”
“Not permanently, ma’am. If they’re not willing to return it after this is over, I’ll go get it personally.”
“I’m sure they’ll tremble in their boots knowing a lieutenant four months out of the academy is going to come after them.”
“I’ll go with her,” Trip said, resting his fingers, not on Jaxi’s hilt but on the other one’s. Azarwrath’s.
Blazer lifted a dismissive hand and started to scoff at him, but when she looked his way, her gaze snagged on him. Other than the touch of the sword, he hadn’t moved, but he seemed different. As he held Blazer’s gaze, he had an unmistakable presence, an aura. Not as commanding as that of the dragons, perhaps, but he definitely exuded power. Rysha sensed it, even though he wasn’t looking at her, and it sent a little zing of heat through her.
She wondered if the sword was lending some aura to Trip, or if he was simply not hiding what he was, at least not right now.
“All right,” Blazer said, appearing mesmerized briefly. She soon grimaced and wrenched her gaze from him, and Rysha thought the moment had passed, that she had recovered and would rescind the words, but Blazer glared at her and said, “You want to go defenseless into a dragon’s den, then that’s your choice. Make sure to tell one of your comrades if you have any last words you want delivered to your parents if you die.”
Blazer stomped off to round up Leftie and Duck. Or maybe to punch some holes into walls.
Kaika looked at Rysha, her face hard to read.
“I already asked Trip to let my parents know what happened to me if I die out here,” Rysha said.
“Oh? Is that what you were doing over in the dark shadows by the railing? Because it looked like something else to me.”
Trip lost his aura of power when he blushed, a sheepish expression crossing his face. Rysha grinned, both because Kaika didn’t seem to be angry with her and because, even though she was admittedly attracted to Powerful Trip, she liked Goofy Trip better. He was the one that fixed tables for her.
Leftie and Duck jogged toward the fliers, a woman trailing after them. Or after Leftie, it appeared, since she blew him a kiss when he looked back at her.
“Does his cocky arrogance actually work on women?” Rysha muttered.
“It’s proud confidence, he tells me,” Trip said.
Dreyak strode out by himself, his head freshly shaven, his face flinty. He jumped into Trip’s flier without a greeting for anyone.
As Leftie and Duck hopped into their fliers, Blazer walked back out, Jylea running after her. Kiadarsa trailed at a less frantic, but still brisk pace.
“You’re leaving now?” Jylea demanded. “We’ll be there in an hour.”
“We’ve decided to go in on our own,” Blazer said over her shoulder.
“So you can reach the portal first and brag that you destroyed it before the Cofah? That’s not going to happen.” Jylea raced around Blazer and halted in front of her, her fists on her hips as she blocked the route.
Jylea looked at Kiadarsa, as if she expected the sorceress to make sure it didn’t happen. Could the woman sabotage the fliers?
But Kiadarsa looked at Trip and shook her head once at her colleague. Jylea scowled. Blazer walked around her and headed toward her flier.
Maybe this was the time to offer the sword. Rysha pulled Dorfindral’s box out of Duck’s flier, experiencing the usual tug to open it and hew down all the dragon-blooded people present, bu
t she also experienced a feeling of reluctance. Not from the sword, she didn’t think, but from within her. Did she not want to give it up? A few days ago, she hadn’t wanted the dangerous weapon at all.
Shaking her head, Rysha strode toward Jylea with the box. The woman had been alternately glaring at Blazer’s back and waving at Kiadarsa, urging her to do something. She didn’t notice Rysha until only a few steps separated them.
“What are you doing?” Jylea asked her.
Kiadarsa eyed Dorfindral’s box warily and backed up. “It’s one of the magic-hating swords,” she told Jylea.
“We have three,” Rysha explained. “They won’t make you impervious to dragons, but they help against magical attacks, and can pierce their mental defenses. They also want to kill dragons, very badly.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“We didn’t want to leave you defenseless, so I’m offering to let you borrow one of mine. You have to be careful around sorcerers because—”
“I’m aware of how they work,” Jylea said. “What do you mean borrow?”
“We don’t need one of those blades,” Kiadarsa said, lifting her chin.
Jylea lifted a hand toward her. “Go on,” she told Rysha.
“If you have someone who can wield it, you can have it for the night. I do need to take it back to Iskandia as soon as we’re done here—” Rysha waved toward the dark mountain, “—so it can only be a loan.”
Kiadarsa gripped Jylea’s elbow and drew her away. “We don’t need it,” she said in a whisper that Rysha barely heard. “The others are coming. Soon. We just need to delay the Iskandians. We—” The sorceress frowned at Rysha and drew Jylea farther away. Both women turned their backs and kept muttering.
Rysha turned her own back but eased closer to them, trying not to make it obvious that she wanted to spy.
“…still use it,” Jylea whispered. “…powerful to defend our homeland.”
“…won’t matter after this.”
“Still… to have.”
“What if they… destroy…”
“…won’t have time.”
“We’re going, Ravenwood,” Blazer called and pointed her toward Duck’s flier. Duck was already in the cockpit.
Leftie was in his, too, and Trip stood by his craft, though he was watching Rysha and the Cofah women. Waiting to see if Rysha needed him? Or also trying to spy on the others’ words?
Kiadarsa and Jylea had stopped talking. They faced Rysha’s team, their faces frosty.
“Do you want it?” Rysha held the box out in front of her, though from those snippets of conversation, she wondered if she should rescind the offer. Who was coming, and what did these Cofah plan? “I wrote down the ancient words that can command it. They’re on a piece of paper inside.”
Kiadarsa’s eyes narrowed. With suspicion? Did she think this a trick?
Though Jylea’s scowl didn’t lessen, she said, “Yes,” and took the box.
Hoping she hadn’t made a mistake, Rysha ran to join her team. She was tempted to switch with Dreyak and climb into Trip’s flier instead of Duck’s since she no longer carried a sword that wanted to kill him. She paused in front of his craft.
“Ravenwood,” Blazer said from her cockpit.
“Yes, ma’am?”
Blazer hefted a box, the one that held her chapaharii sword. “You’re not getting out of wielding one.”
“Ma’am?” Rysha stared at her, her feet rooted to the deck in confusion. It wasn’t so much that she’d longed to get out of having one; it was that she didn’t understand why she should receive another. She wasn’t a sword-fighting master. Her sparring session with Kaika had proven that.
“You’re the only person who can wield one who isn’t piloting. As I found before, trying to poke dragons and fly at the same time isn’t that effective.”
“Oh, I guess that makes sense.”
“That’s me. Sensible.” Blazer shoved the box toward her.
Rysha accepted it, giving Trip a sad smile as she left his flier. She wouldn’t be riding with him, after all.
12
The dark silhouette of a dragon appeared in the starry sky above the snow-smothered mountain. It wasn’t a surprise to Trip—he could sense that dragon, as well as three others in the vicinity—but his colleagues groaned and swore over the communication crystals.
They were flying low to the ice, around the far side and back of the mountain, hoping to come to the ruins site from a different direction than the airship. The last he’d heard, the plan was to land a few miles away, camouflage the fliers as well as possible, and go in on foot. Ideally while the dragons focused on the Cofah.
Trip hadn’t yet mentioned that the dragons could and would sense the fliers’ magical power crystals even if they completely covered the aircraft with snow. He was surprised the dragons hadn’t already come over to investigate. Was the presence of the chapaharii swords keeping them away?
Actually, me and your new buddy, Azzy, are responsible, Jaxi informed him.
Trip was less inclined to think of the Cofah sword as “Azzy” now that he knew a sixty-something-year-old soul lay within the blade. Technically, a fifteen-hundred-and-sixty-something-year-old soul.
We’re doing our best to dampen our auras, your aura, and that of the crystals, she added.
You must be working well together—and effectively. Trip nodded toward the mountain. I don’t think they’ve even looked this way yet.
We’re working together due to necessity. Azzy is almost as stuffy as Wreltad, Tylie’s soulblade. They should probably spend time together. Boring time.
I am not stuffy, Azarwrath proclaimed. You are impertinent. I’ve never met a soul so young and impertinent within a blade.
That is true. I am a supremely unique soul.
That is not what I said.
Trip looked back at Dreyak, as if the Cofah warrior could save him from the silly bickering. Was it necessary for the soulblades to use his head as a meeting place for it?
Oh, we’ve been having discussions that you haven’t been privy to, as well, Jaxi thought. We’ve been debating your potential as a sorcerer and who your father might have been. Or might be. Do you know if he’s still alive? One would think that likely.
I know nothing about him. My grandparents never knew him, and my mother didn’t tell me much before she died. Trip decided the silly bickering might be preferable to having the swords discussing him.
You should probably go on a quest to find him.
A man should know the male who birthed him, Azarwrath agreed.
The male doesn’t do the birthing, Jaxi told him, conveying an eye roll. When she did that, Trip got an impression of her as a red-haired young woman with pigtails rather than a wise and venerable sword. Even particularly obtuse old men from primitive times should have a clue about how biology works, Jaxi added.
I am not old, nor were my times primitive. I lived during the heyday of magic, when it was everywhere, improving the lives of all.
But not the biology knowledge, apparently.
“Dreyak,” Trip blurted, not caring that his tone came out as desperate. Maybe if he had a conversation of his own going on, the swords would take their conversation out of his mind. Even though dealing with Azarwrath hadn’t been difficult so far, he was starting to miss the days when the Cofah soulblade had been silent, if only because Jaxi hadn’t had another soul to argue with then. “You haven’t spoken much since we met up with your people.”
He glanced back, catching Dreyak looking toward that dragon silhouette as it did the aerial equivalent of pacing in the sky above the mountain. Or flying a patrol route?
“Among the Cofah, that is not considered a flaw.”
“Not speaking?”
“Yes. I have noticed that Iskandians feel the need to fill the air with inane chatter.”
Trip thought about mentioning that the Cofah soulblade seemed inclined to chatter too. Or was it different if it was arguing?
 
; Much different, Azarwrath told him.
“We are a companionable people,” Trip said aloud. “I’m curious why you didn’t want to abandon us and join the research team.”
“Aside from the fact that you sent them off to be cannon fodder?”
“Rysha gave up her sword in the hope that they wouldn’t be cannon fodder.”
“We’ll see.”
Trip thought that might be the end of the conversation, and that his question would go unanswered, but after contemplating the mountain for a time, Dreyak spoke again.
“My mission is to destroy the portal,” he said.
“Isn’t that their mission too?”
“They would speak little of their mission to me. I believe we may be at cross-purposes, which is disconcerting since the prince sent me to Iskandia.”
“To help destroy the portal?”
“Among other things.”
Trip frowned back at him. “Such as?”
Dreyak still gazed toward the mountain, and he didn’t meet Trip’s gaze. His lips pressed together firmly, and he did not answer. It was too bad Jaxi had said she couldn’t read him. Trip would have liked to know what he was thinking. This was the first Dreyak had admitted he’d been sent by the prince—was that Prince Varlok, the current leader of all of Cofahre?—though perhaps King Angulus had known all along.
He imagined Dreyak in a great marble audience chamber, standing before a dais and facing a black-haired and bronze-skinned man in purple and blue robes. Receiving an assignment to work with the Iskandians, to offer his services, but also to keep an eye out for clues that would suggest Emperor Salatak still lived, for the Cofah believed the Iskandians had kidnapped him three years earlier and exiled him in a secret place. That was the reason Varlok had been unable to gain the support of the rest of his government, to be officially proclaimed the next emperor for Cofahre.
Dreyak’s gaze shifted toward Trip, and his eyes narrowed.