I’m as much of a people as you are, Deathmaker. You’re fortunate Sardelle has agreed to train you. Assuming you pass her tests this weekend and prove trainable at this point in your life. You’re awfully old.
A centuries-old sword was calling him old? How bizarre. Do you jump into Sardelle’s head unannounced like this? Or am I special?
You’re definitely special, but, yes, Sardelle and I have no secrets. It’s part of the joy of being bonded with a soulblade.
Maybe it was just as well that he had finagled magic lessons for his sister without acquiring an actual soulblade. Tolemek tried to imagine what it must be like having one’s night of amorous passions interrupted by the commentary from a snarky sword. Then he decided he didn’t want to imagine anyone having amorous passions with Zirkander and pushed the thought from his mind.
He’s equally displeased by the idea of you having amorous passions with his lieutenant, Jaxi put in brightly.
“You’re looking thoughtful over there.” Cas, who was riding beside him on a docile mare, gave him a smile.
“Am I?” Tolemek decided not to mention the conversation. When he had alluded to the fact that Jaxi not only had a name but could communicate with people, her face had assumed that expression it did when magic was mentioned, a mixture of disbelief and horror.
“Apex would call it dyspeptic. That’s one of his words. He usually reserves it for General Ort.”
In the week since the pirates had been turned away, Tolemek hadn’t met many of her pilot friends. He hadn’t been allowed to wander the city and meet many people at all, but he couldn’t complain overmuch, nor did he consider himself dyspeptic about anything except having a sarcastic sword sauntering through his thoughts. He had expected the firing squad, but instead, thanks to Zirkander’s influence, he had been invited to stay in the city and had been given the full use of an immaculate laboratory that was technologically superior to anything he had ever seen. Indeed, he had spent far more time playing with the fancy centrifuge than was dignified for someone of his age and expertise. Until Cas had walked in and caught him at it. She hadn’t seemed to believe he was doing “important experiments to further your people’s war efforts,” either. But then he had given her the tour, including the compact living quarters that had come with his lab, and they had grown delightfully distracted. For quite some time. He still grinned at the memory—and the realization that she liked being distracted with him. He hadn’t caught her giving Zirkander so much as a thoughtful gaze in the time they had been together, so Tolemek was beginning to believe that any feelings for her commander that Cas had admitted to under the truth serum had been replaced by feelings for him, or perhaps her confession had been nothing more than a tale of a fleeting infatuation to start with.
He would have left the pirates years ago if he had known he could have such a life here. Granted, his lab assistant was obviously a spy, soldiers followed him whenever he left the building, and the Iskandians hadn’t been subtle in stating that they expected their new scientist to make them useful things. But it was far more than he had expected. They might loathe him for his past, but they wanted his talents for their future. He hadn’t foreseen that. They had even wanted him when he’d said he was out of the weapons, poisons, and biological-agents creation business—both on principle and because he didn’t detest his homeland to the point where he wanted to harm its inhabitants. The general overseeing him had been delighted at the demonstration Tolemek had given him of Healing Salve Number Six. He had promptly ordered five hundred ounces worth, and, yes, Tolemek could have more lab assistants if he needed help fulfilling the order. It was a good beginning.
“I’m actually rather contented with the situation and the good company.” Tolemek smiled at Cas, so she could make no mistake as to whom he meant. “I’ll be even more contented when I figure out a way to get my sister over here. My understanding is that I’m to be treated well, produce lots of militarily significant formulas, and never leave the continent, especially not to go back to Cofahre where I might be tempted to blab Iskandian secrets.”
“That’s your understanding, or that’s exactly what some general said?” Cas asked.
“Actually the general was more blunt than I. And I gathered he was paraphrasing your king. Who was even blunter.”
“Ah. Well, in a few years, when you’ve proven yourself, they might allow you some travel privileges. After all, it’s barely been a week, and you’re already being permitted to see the country.” Cas stretched an open palm toward the small and extremely rustic cabin.
Tolemek kept himself from pointing out that it was only because two trusted officers were escorting him that he had been allowed this excursion out into the world. He also kept himself from suggesting that being in a tiny cabin wasn’t exactly seeing the country, not when its owner was in earshot. Besides, Cas looked tickled to be out here. With him. Tolemek smiled at her again. “This is true.”
“And I’m sure we can find a way to retrieve your sister. Even if you can’t leave, you have friends here now.”
Zirkander had dismounted, and his eyebrows twitched at this statement. Sardelle smiled back at them with more enthusiasm.
“I have some ideas for getting her over here,” she said. “We can discuss them this weekend.”
“We’re here to relax,” Zirkander said. “Not discuss work.” He looked at Tolemek again. “Or schemes.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Ridge. This is the one place I feel I can speak openly. On your base, your houses are so close together that I’m scared I’ll slip up and alert some nosey neighbor that I’m more than an archaeologist.”
“Are you truly accusing Lieutenant Colonel Ostraker of being nosey? He’s the most proper example of a military officer you’ll ever find. He’s far too busy ironing his uniforms and polishing his boots to wander over and peep through our windows.”
“His grandmother isn’t,” Sardelle said, dismounting near the cabin’s small porch. “Not only is she so old that she was probably alive when I was walking the continent the first time, but she’s always over in your yard, trimming your shrubs and filling your bird feeder.”
Tolemek hadn’t quite gotten the story on where Sardelle had come from, but for whatever reason, she didn’t seem to worry about keeping her secrets around him or Cas. Maybe because they had already suspected her of being a sorceress when they showed up on her doorstep.
“Well, the shrubs shouldn’t need trimming now that the snows have come.” Zirkander rubbed his jaw and took the reins to Sardelle’s horse. “But the birds do enjoy their suet in the winter.”
She dropped her hand to his forearm. She managed to look sweet, earnest, and determined all at the same time. “We must have a discussion. And some planning. That’s what I’d like to do while we’re here. We have to convince your people that magic can be useful, perhaps to finally free this continent from its would-be oppressors. Those communication devices are a start, even if your people don’t know they were made a week ago and not centuries in the past, and they gave me an idea about perhaps making a few more indispensable items for the military and then letting the news slip that they’re magical.”
“I’m willing to discuss those things,” Zirkander said as he led their two horses back to a lean-to against the back of the cabin that was out of the wind. “So long as it’s in a relaxed state.”
“Besides,” Sardelle went on. “It’s more than wishful thinking that has me bringing this up. The pilot I healed, the one who crashed...”
“The one who would have died without your intervention?” Zirkander returned from the back and pulled her into a hug, burying his face against her fur cap for a moment.
“Yes,” she said, her voice quieter. “He said something... I tried to disabuse him of the notion, but he was quite convinced that he had been the beneficiary of a miracle and that I had the powers of a goddess. His words, mind you.”
Zirkander frowned thoughtfully.
Tolemek was considering how
to dismount from his beastly horse while this conversation was going on. For the moment, it was standing quietly, but he swore it was watching him out of the corner of its eye.
“Perhaps nothing will come from it,” Sardelle went on, “but perhaps I may not have the luxury of remaining incognito for long. Things may get more complicated.”
“No,” Zirkander said. “This is my cabin in the woods. Things don’t get more complicated at my cabin in the woods. It doesn’t work that way. It just doesn’t.” He sounded like he knew he was being petulant—maybe he was intentionally being petulant to make a point—and sighed in the end, releasing Sardelle. “We’ll think of something.” He smiled and touched her face. “After our relaxing weekend together. This cabin is for enjoying the wilderness and appreciating the quiet time away from the city. That’s what this cabin is for. Fishing. Hunting. Star gazing. Long walks with a loved one...”
Sardelle considered the frozen lake and the snowy branches of the trees. “It’s cold for such activities, don’t you think?”
“Snuggling by a fire with a loved one is also an acceptable form of relaxation.” Zirkander gave Sardelle an eyebrow wriggle and a leer.
“Excellent. Snuggling is the perfect time to discuss agendas.”
The leer turned into an exasperated sigh, though his eyes held a share of humor.
“I think you were right,” Cas whispered to Tolemek. “She does control him. Not magically perhaps...”
“Does that mean you don’t believe there will be much relaxing this weekend?” Tolemek replied.
Cas was dismounting, so he decided he had better do so too. He threw his leg over his horse, and it chose that moment to shake the snow off its fur. Vigorously. Its timing was precise. Tolemek lost his balance and ended up on his backside again.
Zirkander grabbed the reins. “No horses in Cofahre?” he asked mildly.
Tolemek glowered and his pushed himself to his feet, noting that Cas had dismounted without trouble. “No horses that have been trained by enemy commanders to torment new allies, no.”
“Huh. Odd country.” Zirkander took Cas’s reins as well and led the two horses back to join the others.
At least he wasn’t the sort to foist chores on someone else. Tolemek had wondered if Cas, as lowest ranking military person present, might be turned into an errand girl.
“You should try to get him to like you,” Cas whispered, dusting snow off Tolemek’s clothing.
“What if I don’t like him?”
“You only feel that way because he’s treating you like an enemy right now. If he starts to like you, he’ll be roguishly charming instead of devilishly disagreeable.”
The idea of Zirkander using roguish charm on him was more alarming than the notion of a firing squad. Cas was beaming up at him with hopeful eyes though. Ugh, speaking of women being in control...
“Any suggestions for how I might accomplish this?”
“Perhaps you could challenge him to a snowball fight.”
“As if we were ten-year-old boys?” Tolemek asked.
“He’s known to have a playful side.”
“Not by the Cofah.”
“That’s because they insist on chucking grenades and cannonballs at him instead of snowballs,” Cas said.
“I doubt there’s anything they haven’t tried throwing at him at this point.”
Cas scooped up a big handful of snow and packed it into a ball.
“Are you volunteering to be on my team if a snowball battle should break out?” Tolemek imagined he could take anything Zirkander and his sorceress could hurl his way if he had Cas’s arm at his side. And he wouldn’t actually mind smacking Zirkander in the face with a heavy pile of snow. Having the other man shove him up against the wall in that tram cabin had rankled, but Tolemek hadn’t dared defend himself then. He had been so exhausted that he probably couldn’t have even if he tried.
“Not exactly.”
As soon as Cas grinned, he knew he was in trouble. Up on the split-log deck, Zirkander was in the process of unlocking the door and holding it open for Sardelle, leaving his back to Tolemek. And Cas. She threw the snowball with the speed and accuracy of a sniper’s daughter. It smacked Zirkander in the back of the neck and exploded. It would be shocking if icy chunks of snow didn’t make their way down his shirt.
When Zirkander spun around, Cas, still smiling, pointed at Tolemek.
“What?” Tolemek blurted, stunned by this betrayal. Thus, he wasn’t prepared when a cannonball-sized snow missile was launched at him.
He tried to dodge, but it caught him in the shoulder, spattering his face with slush. Tolemek wasn’t close to the cabin, the trees, or any conveniently placed cover to hide behind, so he did the only thing that made sense. He snatched up a wad of snow, hurrying to pack it into a ball. But he paused with it held aloft. Who to hit? Zirkander, for striking him? Or Cas for causing Zirkander to strike him?
In that second while he was deciding, two snowballs slammed into him from different directions. Betrayed—on all accounts. He spun, hurling his weapon in the direction of the deck. He should have checked first. Sardelle had climbed the steps, apparently to usher Zirkander inside and stop this silliness. Tolemek’s snowball exploded against her arm. Her expression wasn’t so much angry as startled. As if she couldn’t believe that he had dared strike her—well, actually he hadn’t dared... He’d misfired.
At first, Zirkander looked like he meant to leap over the railing and pummel Tolemek for targeting his lady, but she caught his arm, whispered something, then plopped a snowball into his hand.
“Oh?” he asked, then launched it.
Tolemek would have dodged, but he was busy gaping because the snowball grew in size as it sailed toward him. It wasn’t an illusion. It was bigger than his head by the time it slammed into his chest. Fortunately, it spattered into a slushy mess without hurting him, but it did cause him to step back to brace himself. That was the intent, anyway. Unfortunately, his heel slipped on something hidden beneath the snow, and he landed on his back in the white fluff.
“You’re right,” came Zirkander’s voice from the deck. “That was more satisfying.”
Cas snickered. Loudly. Tolemek hadn’t heard her laugh often, so he supposed this was worth it, so long as she decided to give tender attentions to his grave injuries later on.
She appeared over him, her impish face framed by the cloudy sky. She had another snowball in hand—how did she make the things so quickly?—but didn’t throw it, perhaps considering a downed man an unworthy target. “It’s a good thing you can make potions, because I don’t think the Iskandian army would accept you based on your fighting prowess.”
Tolemek decided the proper reply to such mocking was to grab her ankle and pull her off her feet. She squawked a startled curse. She might have fallen into the cold snow beside him—surely a suitable punishment—but he tugged her so she landed atop him instead. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to use her for a shield, keep her from tossing more snowballs at him, or employ the maneuver to encourage the pressing of her body parts against his body parts. “One would hope that Iskandian army recruits are taught to assist their comrades in battle rather than to set them up for enemy assaults.”
“You obviously haven’t been along on any academy combat drills.” Cas still had her snowball in hand—alarming—but rested her chin against his chest instead of pulling away or mashing it into his face. That was promising.
“Lieutenant Ahn?” Zirkander called from the deck. “Is that dastardly pirate using you for a shield? Or are you canoodling?”
Cas turned her head over her shoulder to respond with another grin. “Yes, sir.”
Encouraged, Tolemek readjusted her so that her face was in line for a kiss. He was vaguely aware of Zirkander and Sardelle going into the cabin and shutting the door.
Sardelle has announced that your training will not begin until the morning.
Tolemek managed to receive this mental intrusion without being overly distracte
d from his physical activities. Or perhaps he was too focused on those to care about the comment.
Just relaying information. Also, I suggest you don’t enter the cabin for a while. Jaxi did the soulblade equivalent of sighing. Humans. As randy as bonobos.
“Looks like we’ll be stuck out here for a while,” Tolemek murmured, not moving his lips far from Cas’s lips, though he managed to tilt his head toward the closed cabin door.
“You better keep me warm then.”
“I can do that.”
THE END
Afterword
Thank you for giving Deathmaker a read. If you would like to see this series continue, please consider leaving a review and letting me know what you want to see next. I have quite a few ideas for this world, but if you want more of a certain character, or if you want to see more “Wolf Squadron” pilots get their own stories, I’d love to hear about it. I’m online in all of the usual haunts: Facebook, Twitter, Google+, and you can also email me through my blog.
Looking for more to read? Check my website for the most up-to-date list of my books.
Lindsay Buroker, Deathmaker
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