If Blazer came along, Trip definitely wouldn’t be in charge. That might be all right, so long as he had the leeway to follow hunches—and wasn’t left out of any planning meetings. He still felt a tad disgruntled over that.
“Should I pick some people?” Zirkander asked when Trip didn’t answer.
“You know everyone over here far better than I do, so that might be best, sir. I think people who aren’t intimidated by magic would be ideal. I liked working with Duck. And Captain Kaika.” Trip didn’t know if Zirkander could get Kaika, since she was in another unit, and this would not be like the last mission, not sanctioned by the king. Somehow, Trip doubted Angulus would want to put a lot of resources toward a young pilot’s search for his father.
“Major Blazer will be crushed that she didn’t make your short list.” Zirkander grinned.
“She was all right to work for, sir. I wouldn’t mind flying with her again. I’m just not sure she adored me.”
“Were you expecting that? I’ve yet to have a commanding officer who adored me, and Sardelle assures me that I’m adorable. Possibly because she’s not expected to get me to obey orders.”
“Yes, sir,” Trip said, not wanting to comment one way or another on his commanding officer’s adorableness.
“All right, a hunt for another dragon ally. Good.” Zirkander clapped him on the shoulder. “I’ll see what kind of team I can put together for this.” He cocked his head for a few seconds, then looked in the direction of the house and rose to his feet. “Sounds like it’s dinnertime.”
There hadn’t been a “sound,” so Trip assumed Sardelle had spoken telepathically to him.
“Fortunately, the fish we didn’t catch weren’t paramount for the meal.” Zirkander pulled in his line. “Actually, I think Sardelle prefers it when I don’t catch anything.”
“Does she have to clean the fish?”
“No, I get that dubious duty, but nobody under twenty in the house cares for fish, so it’s a battle to convince them to eat it.”
“Do the dragons end up with the leftovers?” Trip asked, still bemused by their presence in the general’s house. But encouraged by it. He was beginning to believe some of those stories about humans and dragons living and battling together in dragon-rider outposts. And, as alarming as it was to have them back in the world en masse, he felt some hope that Iskandia would survive. He thought of Zirkander’s little girl and his new baby coming and vowed he would do his best to make sure the country did survive.
“Baked goods leftovers? Yes. Fish? Not usually.” Zirkander hopped down from the duck blind and tucked his pole inside. “They prefer cheese, chili mango beef jerky, mangoes in general, strawberries, sweets of all kinds, vinegar crisps, and Phelistoth often shows up in human form for coffee in the morning. It’s a good thing I ultimately accepted the promotion to general because my grocery bill has been alarming these last couple of years.”
“I’ll try not to eat too much at dinner.”
“You eat as much as you want,” Zirkander said as they walked up the path toward the house. “You have a quest coming up.”
“Yes, sir. I’m excited about it, even though—well, I’ll try not to get my hopes up that he’ll be interested in me.” Trip winced. He hadn’t meant to voice that concern again.
“We don’t all get the fathers we wish we had. But it goes both ways. Fathers don’t always get the kids they want.”
Since Trip doubted the general’s toddler was old enough to elicit such a sentiment, he assumed Zirkander was referencing his relationship with his father.
“I’m sure you couldn’t have been a disappointment, sir.”
“My father wanted someone to climb mountains with him and search for ancient treasures. He positively loathes dragon fliers and thinks I’m a kook for going up in them.” Zirkander grinned as they crossed onto the lawn, and there didn’t seem to be any bitterness in it. He must have come to terms with his relationship with his father long ago. “But look, blood isn’t everything. You find people in your life that you can trust and that care for you, and don’t worry too much about the ones who are disappointed you’re not the person they wanted you to be.”
“Yes, sir,” Trip said.
Zirkander paused at the door, holding it open as he looked back toward the yard. Trip thought he might give some more advice, but he merely watched as the two golden ferrets raced through the grass and into the house.
“I believe that means the cookies are done,” he said.
THE END
Lindsay Buroker, Revelations
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