Revelations

  An overly judgmental sword?

  You’re thinking of Dorfie. He was the one grumping about you kissing his handler.

  He? You’ve given it a gender? Trip looked back at Rysha, more interested in how she was doing than anything regarding her sword.

  As I told Sardelle years ago in regard to Kasandral, anything that surly and belligerent must be male.

  Rysha was dozing, having finally warmed up enough to do so, though from the way she clutched her parka around her, she wouldn’t mind being warmer yet. He would be happy to hug her again after they landed, to transfer some of his body heat to her.

  Body heat, of course, Jaxi said. That’s why you want to wrap your arms around her.

  Are you sure you aren’t the judgmental sword?

  Certainly not. I am merely sharing my wisdom with you when it’s appropriate. You’re young, and it’s blatantly obvious that you need a mentor.

  Trip couldn’t argue with that. But he’d always imagined someone like General Zirkander being his mentor, rather than a mouthy sword.

  You don’t need a pilot mentor. You need a mentor who can help you with magic. And your love life.

  And you’re the one to do that?

  I can certainly advise you on the matter of relationships. I’ve had a dozen handlers over the years and learned much from observing their mating rituals. Also, I’ve read numerous books.

  On… mating rituals?

  Indeed.

  Trip tried to decide if that implied anthropological textbooks or romance novels.

  “Are we going to land, ma’am?” Duck asked. “Or just circle this place? I ask because my propeller hasn’t been happy since it got clubbed by a dragon tail.”

  “Yes,” Blazer said. “Everyone, land by the airship there. The remains of the airship.”

  Trip turned his attention back to the outpost. He’d been following the others as they flew around it, looking with their eyes at what he’d already seen with his senses, presumably trying to determine if any danger lurked below.

  Trip was less worried about any danger the Cofah might present and more about dragons. He sensed a couple at the very edge of his range. He wasn’t sure how far away that was, but he thought he would have time to warn his teammates if one headed this way, and they could hightail it into their fliers if need be. Not that a dragon couldn’t catch up to a flier.

  It was discomfiting to realize there weren’t any places to take cover here, no way to escape angry predators. Judging by all the flattened buildings, hiding inside them wouldn’t do much.

  Trip wished they had managed to kill that silver, especially after Rysha had so bravely leaped from the flier to pierce its defenses. But the dragon had screeched and taken off after that. Maybe, its injury would send the message to the other dragons out there that this team wasn’t to be trifled with. But Trip feared the silver would simply, as soon as it licked its wounds sufficiently, round up some more dragons and come back for them.

  He hadn’t shared those grim thoughts with the others. Maybe he would be wrong.

  Doubtful, Jaxi said. Also, I don’t sense any dragons, and my range for detecting something with such a powerful aura is at least forty miles.

  Oh? Trip guided his flier toward the ground since the others had already set down. Are you suggesting I’m not sensing them? That it’s my imagination? He still wasn’t sure how much stock to put into his “senses.” He didn’t think he was imagining them—he’d been right earlier, after all—but who knew?

  No, I believe you sense them. I can see that you do, in fact. I’m just informing you that your range is remarkable.

  That’s a good thing, right? Maybe Trip should have been pleased by her observation—it was certainly better than having her call him obtuse—but he’d always wanted to be remarkable for his flying ability, not… this.

  It suggests you have the potential to be a powerful sorcerer. Which is very rare in this time period. Even Tylie, Sardelle’s student with the most potential, isn’t powerful in the way sorcerers of my time period were. Six hundred years ago.

  I didn’t know you were that old. I guess you are a lady. Or a matron?

  Ew, gross. Don’t call me that again, or I’ll melt your flight stick.

  Trip glanced at the stick he held as he activated the thrusters for the landing.

  I might be talking about that flight stick.

  It took him a few seconds to get the joke, if that’s what it was. His mind was busy dwelling on her earlier words. Jaxi… would I have to choose? Between becoming a sorcerer and being a pilot? I’m sure you’ve figured it out, but I’d much rather be the latter.

  That flummoxes me, but yes, I’ve figured it out. Speaking purely from the viewpoint of one gauging potential, there’s no reason why you couldn’t be both, though you wouldn’t become as diverse and talented with magic if you only studied it part time.

  What about from the viewpoint of… other people? I’m concerned that if my fellow officers and my superiors found out, they wouldn’t want me in a squadron.

  Ridge’s people have found Sardelle useful, Jaxi pointed out. At first, they mistrusted her, but she’s become close with some of the pilots.

  On her own merits or because she was—is—General Zirkander’s wife?

  She wasn’t when Wolf Squadron first met her.

  But she was his something, wasn’t she? I mean—

  I know what you mean. She had a national hero to vouch for her. Yes, I’ll admit that it may be more difficult if you have to win people over on your own, but they would be utter fools not to want a sorcerer flying into battle on their side.

  Or… born into a time of rampant prejudices.

  That’s all times, Jaxi said dryly. People are the same in every era. The only thing that changes is what the prejudices are.

  Trip, not finding the conversation as encouraging as he would have liked, especially from his self-proclaimed mentor, unfastened his harness. Blazer, Dreyak, and Kaika were already on the ground with rifles and pistols at the ready as they gazed at the buildings and the wreckage around them.

  “Rysha?” Trip turned to wake her up if need be, but she was sitting up and looking around the flier curiously.

  She must have brushed against her sword, because it flared green, highlighting her face. The curiosity disappeared, replaced by determination and something unfriendly as she looked toward Trip. But then she clenched her jaw, visibly wrestling with herself—with the sword’s influence.

  Trip jumped down to give her some space. He imagined the blade grew even more irate when in closer proximity to dragon blood.

  “I’m fine,” Rysha said, leaning over the side and giving him a quick smile, as if to say she had control of the sword now.

  He believed she could control it, but he didn’t want to be the cause of her need to wrestle with it. As sad as it made him feel, it would be wisest if she went back to riding with Leftie, and he did his best to give her space.

  “Good.” Trip nodded to her and kept his thoughts to himself. “I didn’t know when I was given Jaxi that she would be able to dry clothes and warm hands.”

  I am a versatile as well as powerful sorceress. Should you dedicate yourself to studying magic, you too could dry clothes one day.

  “I think she—and you—saved my life.” Rysha climbed down and touched his hand.

  They both wore gloves, so he barely felt it, but he appreciated the gesture. Especially since the tightness at the corners of her eyes suggested she had to fight the sword to do it.

  His only answer was a sad smile.

  Captain Duck lowered himself down from his cockpit, keeping one hand on his flier and eyeing the white ground warily. He stamped a boot experimentally. “Oh, it’s snow. I thought it would all be ice.”

  “There’s ice under the snow,” Rysha said. “And in parts of the south pole, there’s also land under the ice. Approximately seven hundred square miles spread across thirty islands believed to have originally formed as a result
of volcanic activity. While there are human tribes that live within the Antarctic Circle, there are none known to have inhabited those islands, though they have left sign of visits. One can travel across the ice sheets that run between the islands and cover much of the pole itself. The ice is reputed to be anywhere from thirty to forty feet deep in the summer and even more in the winter. The edges of the sheet recede in the summer. Most likely, the Cofah outpost here was placed far enough inland so as not to be disturbed by the summer melts.”

  “Does that mean we’re on ice now?” Duck looked between his feet. “Just ice?”

  “Thick ice, sir.” Rysha stamped a boot. “I dozed off after my unwise leap from the flier, so I’m not entirely certain of our coordinates, but I believe we’re between two of the islands now, perhaps forty miles from solid land. But the ice is quite solid. As you can see from the buildings.”

  “The destroyed buildings,” Blazer said, pointing toward some of the wreckage. They appeared to have been knocked down by force, rather than being burned or melted by fire. “Did dragons do this?”

  “We’ll have to look around, perhaps with better lighting.” Rysha looked toward her previous flier. “Leftie, is my pack still back there? And my rifle? It kept trying to slip free.” Her voice held a plaintive note as she admitted the last.

  “It’s all there,” Leftie said. “I made Dreyak keep an eye on it.”

  “You made me,” Dreyak said coolly, though his heart didn’t seem to be in the grousing. He was frowning as he gazed all around.

  “Yup, told him not to root through your belongings to peek at your undergarments too,” Leftie said, throwing Rysha a wink.

  Dreyak strode off, his pistol in hand. He didn’t bother to light a lantern.

  Kaika knelt by her pack, perhaps digging one out.

  Trip knew he should do the same, that he would be given the order to fix Duck’s flier shortly, but he gazed out at the ice fields stretching for as far as the eye could see. The wind and snow had combined to make small ridges and peaks, but nothing high enough to block the view. Nothing to hide behind should trouble come find them.

  He wondered how Dreyak had known how to guide them to this place. There were no landmarks other than the two standing buildings themselves. He also wondered if Dreyak had some private reason for wanting them to come here. He’d suggested it even before Duck’s flier had been damaged.

  Blazer walked toward Trip, and he eyed her warily since she also carried one of those swords. She could have left it in the flier in favor of her rifle or pistol, but she hadn’t. Kaika hadn’t left hers behind, either. Its scabbard rested against her pack as she pulled out her lantern.

  Were they simply being cautious, keeping the weapons close at hand in case dragons came? Or were the blades compelling them somehow? Insisting on being carried along?

  It’s true that they don’t like to miss out, Jaxi said. They’re a bit like puppies. Fortunately, you have two soulblades who are far superior to puppies.

  Coming from you, that’s high praise for Azarwrath. Trip hadn’t yet heard a word from the Cofah soulblade, but it—he—had helped with the dragon battle, so he was inclined to think of the sword more respectfully now.

  I thought that if I complimented him, he’d be more likely to help us fight again.

  That probably wasn’t a bad idea. Trip suspected the soulblade had only assisted them because it didn’t want to end up on the bottom of the ocean. He didn’t want to be holding it if they ever came face-to-face with enemy Cofah. He could all too easily imagine the blade turning on him. Azarwrath seemed to have rejected Dreyak as a handler, for whatever reason, but maybe Trip could leave the soulblade here in the Cofah outpost, so some of the scientists could ensure it made it back to its homeland. If they found the scientists.

  Blazer stopped several feet from Trip, grimacing at him.

  “Did Captain Kaika and Lieutenant Ravenwood give you a copy of those command words, ma’am?” Trip guessed the reason for the grimace had little to do with his rumpled uniform and beard stubble.

  “Yeah. They’re gobbledygook and hard to remember. I’ve got the one for ‘stand down’ memorized though.”

  “Good.”

  “Definitely.” Blazer prodded her sword’s hilt. “This thing really wants me to kill you. Or maybe it just wants to kill those.” She jerked her head toward the two soulblades hanging from his belt.

  All of the above, Trip thought, but all he did was nod and say, “I assume I’m on flier repair duty, ma’am?”

  “You got it, kid. Requisition whoever you need to help. Get Duck’s up to spec again, and check the others too.” Blazer gazed toward the night sky. “I have a feeling we’re not going to get off this continent without another fight. Or ten.”

  “Is it a continent?” Trip thought of Rysha’s description of islands.

  “Probably not, but I only fly over land. I don’t study it.” Blazer looked in the direction Dreyak had gone. Kaika and Rysha were heading that way, too, each with a lit lantern. “The rest of us will look around. Ravenwood and Dreyak both want to know what happened to the Cofah. I, frankly, don’t give a damn, but it’s too cold to sit around and do nothing while we wait.”

  Trip considered pointing out that they could help him with the fliers, but he didn’t truly want the women with their surly swords breathing down his neck while he worked.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Leftie and Duck came over as Blazer grabbed her rifle out of her flier and headed after the others.

  “Which one of us is getting the honor of holding your wrench, Trip?” Duck asked.

  “Don’t ask things like that,” Leftie said, nudging Duck. “He doesn’t have much luck with women. He might take you up on the offer.”

  Duck paused, as if working through the joke.

  Trip sighed and nodded to Duck. “You were in the cockpit when you got hit. You see what took the brunt of the attack? Can you describe what the flier was doing after that? I saw you had a hitch.”

  “That’s right. The engine was clunking, and one of the propeller blades might have gotten bent too. I’ll show you.”

  Leftie fell in beside Trip as they walked over and gave him a pat on the shoulder. “That was quick thinking with Lieutenant Ravenwood. Good job. Wish I’d thought of flying upside down.”

  Trip appreciated the praise, especially since his friend had been giving him so many wary looks lately, every time magic came up. “I didn’t think to suggest it when you were going in. I should have. She wouldn’t have been stuck in the water as long if you’d gotten her on that first run.”

  “And then I could have been the hero she flung her arms around and kissed afterward.” Leftie sighed melodramatically as they reached Duck’s flier and started opening panels.

  “She didn’t kiss me.” Trip decided not to mention that he’d kissed her. Only on the cheek, but he had a feeling officers weren’t supposed to put their lips anywhere on other officers.

  “She didn’t?” Leftie stared at him. “Did you not give her The Look?”

  “What look?”

  “The deep gaze into her eyes that lets her know you saved her life and that she should now feel it required to give you a long, passionate, and deeply thankful kiss that could lead to clothing removal.”

  “How do you do that look?” Duck asked from the other side of the flier.

  “I’d show you, but I don’t want you feeling required to kiss me, passionately or otherwise.”

  “I think I can control myself, Lieutenant.”

  “Not many people can.”

  “You’re about as arrogant as the lone cock in the henhouse, aren’t you?”

  “Not without reason, I assure you.” Leftie grinned at Trip. “I’m surprised the lieutenant didn’t need to shuck her wet clothing to dry off and survive. I expected her to. Kept looking back at your flier, hoping to get a show.”

  “You’re a bit of an ass sometimes, Leftie,” Trip said.

  “I just say what??
?s on my mind.”

  “I think that’s what makes you an ass. Others refrain.”

  “They must be repressed. Mostly, I’m just sad that she was completely fine by the time we got here. All the way to the outpost, I was figuring we might have to build a fire when we got down here and snuggle with her. You know, to help her warm back up.”

  “We? Are you including me in that scenario?”

  “Nah, I meant me and my wrench.”

  “Definitely an ass,” Trip said, punching him in the shoulder as he climbed into the flier to grab one of the toolboxes.

  “Am not. I’m just impressed with how tough our bookish lieutenant is.”

  Trip didn’t mention that Jaxi had used her power to dry Rysha’s clothes, warm her body, and save her from the hypothermia that had been setting in. No need to remind Leftie that magic was being used all around him.

  “Bookish?” Duck asked. “Just because she knows some stuff, you think she’s bookish? She single-handedly slew that sorceress. And she seems fit and comfortable in the wilds. I could see an alpha wolf choosing her to be his mate.”

  Trip grimaced, hoping that didn’t mean that Duck saw himself as an interested alpha wolf.

  “I don’t think she has mating on her mind,” he murmured and groped for a way to steer the conversation to another topic, perhaps that of repairing fliers.

  “Only because you didn’t give her The Look,” Leftie said.

  Trip shook his head and shifted his focus to his work. The longer they were stuck at this forlorn outpost, the more time that dragon had to find buddies and return for a rematch. He was fairly certain The Look wouldn’t work on their scaled enemies.

  • • • • •

  Wind scraped across the ice fields, swirling the powdery snow about and chilling Rysha through her winter clothing. She missed the warmth Jaxi had shared with her after her unfortunate dip in the ocean. While she had never had an interest in taking weapons to bed, she might make an exception for a soulblade that could warm the sheets on winter nights.

  Rysha wanted to head straight into the buildings to look for the scientists, or perhaps clues about what they had been researching way down here, but Kaika and Blazer joined Dreyak who was already examining the snow outside the outpost. Rysha tagged along, not believing the group should split up any more than it already had. Also, if the scientists were dead inside those buildings, their bodies horribly mauled, she didn’t want to walk in on that by herself. Captain Kaika wouldn’t be fazed, Rysha was sure, but it would take her longer to grow used to things like that. To death.