Dragon Storm

  Rysha swatted at a mosquito or similar insect. They’d only been on the ground for fifteen minutes, and she’d already been stabbed and nipped at by the insect life. Snakes slithered across the pond, and alligator heads occasionally rose above the water. She was beginning to see why all the towns and dwellings were on the beaches.

  Trip reached up toward a wing, but winced and touched the side of his shirt. Rysha remembered that he’d been injured. How badly? She could see the rip in his shirt, but he’d chosen a black one, so she couldn’t tell if he had blood on it.

  Rysha started toward him to ask if she could help him bandage anything, but Kaika came up beside her, her own rifle in hand and a pack on her back. It wasn’t the huge duffel but more of a day pack. Just the explosives one needed for a single incursion?

  “Ready for a hike and a little infiltration?” Kaika asked.

  “Yes, ma’am. Ready for anything now that I’m back in more comfortable attire.” Rysha patted her long-sleeve gray shirt and fatigue trousers and lifted one of the boots she’d changed back into. It was her full Iskandian army uniform sans the fatigue jacket with her name and rank on it. She’d been lucky she’d had her pack stored in the back of Trip’s flier rather than in a cabin in the airship, or she would have been stuck wearing that ghastly pirate costume all the way to the Antarctic.

  Kaika chuckled. She hadn’t changed out of her costume, aside from a switch from flimsy sandals to boots. But she seemed to find the clothing comfortable. Either that, or she planned to seduce the pirate king.

  Rysha couldn’t imagine seducing a man after one had recently crashed—twice—and trekked through the jungle. The whole team had a distinctive odor about them now.

  Blazer headed toward their duo, leaving Trip and Leftie to pull the small toolkit out of the flier and start to work. Rysha wondered if Jaxi would be knocking down trees to provide raw material again. Probably not. There wasn’t much wood on the fliers.

  “Sardelle’s sword is trying to get in touch with Duck and Dreyak,” Blazer said, “and lead them to us.”

  “Good,” Kaika said. “We could use some more muscle for the incursion team.”

  Blazer thumped her on the arm. “Don’t worry. I’ll go.”

  “Uh, thanks, but I think I’d take Trip and the sword before you.”

  “That puppy?” Blazer’s latest cigar was lit, and she took a puff. “Are you joking?”

  Rysha bristled at the insult. For starters, as a captain, Trip was hardly a new recruit. And with Jaxi’s assistance, he was extremely useful in a fight right now.

  “No,” Kaika said, “but all the pilots are staying. You have to be ready in case we need a quick getaway. We’ll find the sword, retrieve it, and run out, ideally without anyone being the wiser, but it doesn’t always work that way.” She grimaced and looked into the distance, perhaps remembering some past mission that had gone wrong.

  “Two girls and a Cofah soldier we can’t trust doesn’t sound like a solid infiltration team to me,” Blazer said.

  Rysha bristled again, this time at being dismissed as a girl, though since Blazer was the one doing the dismissing, she wasn’t sure if she could object. Besides, there was an element of truth to the comment. She wasn’t some seasoned super warrior. Maybe one day she would be, but she was the one who felt like a puppy, if she was honest with herself.

  “I don’t think the king would have sent him along if we couldn’t trust him to some extent,” Kaika said. “I wouldn’t go into battle against the Cofah with him, but he’s probably got reason to hate dragons and pirates as much as we do.”

  “If you won’t take me, which is foolish,” Blazer said, “at least take Trip and the sword. Or just the sword.”

  “The sword hasn’t offered to come with me,” Kaika said.

  Blazer looked at Rysha.

  “Nor me,” Rysha said. “In fact, I understand I’ve recently been added to the list of people not allowed to touch it. Her.”

  “I do think Jaxi could be useful,” Kaika said, “but I also get the feeling the sorceress living in the fortress can detect her. Our odds of not being discovered may be better without the soulblade. Don’t you agree, Ravenwood? What are the odds?”

  Rysha arched her eyebrows. Had Captain Kaika decided she was some kind of math savant? Hardly that.

  “There are too many unknown variables for me to begin to calculate them,” Rysha said, though the very fact that the fortress had such a huge staff and such inimical leaders made her want to slant the odds far in the pirates’ favor. She also didn’t know if they had the element of surprise on their side. She would prefer to take Trip and Jaxi, even if the soulblade increased their chance of discovery.

  “If we manage to get the Kasandral twin,” Kaika said, “we’ll also have to be careful to keep Jaxi away from it. Those swords hate dragon blood, and I bet they hate soulblades too. Anything magical. They’ll do their best to destroy it. Even if they have to kill innocent people in order to do it. Trust me, I’ve seen it.” Kaika met Blazer’s eyes, her expression uncharacteristically solemn. “Did you ever hear what really happened to Lieutenant Apex?”

  “Just that he died trying to protect the queen a few years ago when the king was kidnapped. Unfortunate, since I imagine he would have been Zirkander’s first choice for a dragon expert.” Blazer glanced at Rysha.

  Rysha did not say anything, having no idea who Apex was—had been—though she well remembered the king’s kidnapping. All the attacks on the city that spring, all the death and destruction delivered by enemies, had much to do with why she’d decided to follow her dream of leaving academia and joining the army. Writing papers wouldn’t keep Iskandia free and its people safe.

  “Guess they’re not my secrets to share,” Kaika said, “but Apex got in Kasandral’s way.”

  “Oh,” Blazer mouthed, having the look of someone who was having a few puzzle pieces click together. “He didn’t have dragon blood, did he?”

  “No.”

  “Ah.”

  Rysha watched the two of them, saying nothing but chagrined to think that she may have been Zirkander’s second choice for this mission. Or at least, a less desirable choice. One couldn’t be “second” if the first was a dead person, right? But if Zirkander had a pilot with her knowledge of dragon history and sword locations, he could have sent another elite troops warrior along to help Kaika. A real one.

  Trip walked up, slogging through mud to reach them, Jaxi sheathed on his hip and pliers in hand. “Leftie said we’re not going along to help get the sword, ma’am?” he asked Blazer.

  “Apparently true. We were just discussing it. Kaika thinks the pilots should stay with the fliers and that Jaxi shouldn’t tempt some dragon-slaying sword into flaring to life and causing a schism between people on our team.”

  “Uh, won’t we all be flying together later, anyway?”

  “After we’ve had time to figure out who has to ride with who to make it work, yes,” Kaika said. “And I did bring the list of control words along.” She patted a pocket. “Sardelle researched and found those after Apex’s death, and they do help tamp down Kasandral’s tendencies, but I’m not sure it’s a guarantee that the words will work on a sword we’re not familiar with.”

  Trip looked down at the mud, but not before Rysha caught disappointment in his eyes.

  “I know which words you’re talking about, ma’am,” Rysha said. “I’ve researched them. There are some differences for different types of chapaharii weapons and tools, but only small variations, and the words for one sword should indeed work for all swords. That’s true even if they originated on different continents, as the Iskandians originally discovered how to make the weapons, and then the Cofah basically copied everything, including the words they assigned to them. Did you know—”

  Kaika lifted a hand, cutting her off. “No, I didn’t, but save it for the flight to the Antarctic, will you? It’ll be long and boring. I’m sure we’ll all want to hear trivia.”

  “I don??
?t know about that.” Blazer puffed on her cigar. “I like to quietly contemplate the meaning of life while I fly.”

  “On the way out here,” Kaika said, “I saw you flying with your knee while reading a copy of Modern Girl magazine.”

  “Yes, the meaning-of-life articles are in the back.”

  “Isn’t that the section that follows the women’s sports teams in Iskandia?”

  Blazer smiled and lifted a finger to her lips. “Ssh, others will have to find their own meanings of life.”

  Trip shifted to stand next to Rysha and bumped her arm. “You can tell me your trivia any time.”

  Rysha knew she had a tendency to burble about things she was interested in, and she was used to being cut off by people, so she hadn’t minded the interruption, but she smiled at Trip, appreciating his encouragement.

  “Sorry you can’t come along,” Rysha told him. “With luck, we’ll get in and out easily.”

  “But if you don’t, I guess we pilots will be here to fly in and rescue you.”

  Rysha propped a fist on her hip. “I wasn’t planning to need rescuing.”

  Trip spread his hands. “You never know when a snowball will turn into an avalanche.”

  “Just keep the engines running, kid,” Kaika said, leaning over to thump Trip on the shoulder. “You pilots aren’t trained for incursions. We’ll get back here on our own, but in case we come in with company on our heels, we’ll need to take off quickly.”

  Blazer looked at Rysha, and Rysha felt her cheeks warm. The major didn’t say anything, but she might be thinking that Rysha wasn’t trained for incursions, either. Not yet.

  But, she reminded herself, she hadn’t been chosen for her military training. It was her academic knowledge that General Zirkander had wanted. She could recognize one of the chapaharii swords, whether it hung in a scabbard on someone’s hip or it was buried among a thousand other blades the pirate king had looted over the years. She had also memorized the list of command words Kaika had mentioned. There would be no need to consult a sheet of paper.

  Rysha lifted her chin. She was valuable and would be an asset to the incursion team, and she would prove it.

  • • • • •

  “What do you think, Jaxi?” Trip prodded the angry, inflamed skin around the furrow the bullet had left in his side. The gash across his arm didn’t hurt as much, probably because he didn’t keep bending and stretching it to do repairs. He’d finally given in to the throbbing pain and taken a break to pull the first-aid kit out of his flier and examine his wounds. Mostly, he just wanted a painkiller, but he figured it would be a good idea to clean the gashes, too, especially since this pond was as much mud as it was water, and he was smeared with the stuff. He sat on a mud-caked log now, debating if he should waste some of his potable canteen water for washing his hands.

  That it’s infuriating that the baboons leading your mission aren’t taking me on their incursion, Jaxi replied.

  I meant about my wounds. Do you have any healing powers?

  Sorry, that’s Sardelle’s specialty. Do you need something cauterized? I’m excellent at cauterizing.

  Uh. I don’t think so. Trip imagined a fiery beam of energy shooting out of Jaxi to seal off a man’s leg after an amputation. Using such power on his little gouge seemed like overkill. And I don’t think it’s fair or very accurate to call Kaika and Blazer baboons.

  Great white apes? They’re going into a fight against magic, and I’m their only magical advisor.

  I think they’re hoping to avoid fighting.

  Please, I’ve been on missions with Kaika before. You don’t blow up someone’s fortress and expect to get out without trading blows. This is definitely the B-team.

  The B-team? Trip dug out a roll of bandage and debated if he needed it. Nothing bled currently, but this borrowed pirate shirt liked to stick to scabs. He had his uniform along, but he didn’t know if that would be better.

  It didn’t occur to you that Ridge’s best people weren’t sent on this mission? Captain Ahn? Tolemek? Crash? Darter? Himself? Not to mention General Bivart’s best elite troops officers. Colonel Therrik—much as I hate to admit to that one, he’s a beast in battle—and Colonel Quataldo. Or those two brothers who single-handedly—or, rather, double-handedly—took out an entire Cofah platoon?

  General Zirkander said a lot of his best people had to stay to defend Iskandia against the dragons.

  Exactly, meaning this is the B-team. Jaxi sighed. I’m used to being with the best.

  Sorry, Trip said, even if it wasn’t remotely his fault. The words made him feel inept and like he needed to apologize. They also made him wonder if this team had been put together because it was… expendable.

  No, no, you’re not expendable. Angulus would argue that Kaika, in particular, isn’t expendable. Forgive me. I lack Sardelle’s tact. I’m just frustrated with not being able to speak directly with—and influence—the person who’s in charge. Ridge always listens to me.

  Blazer won’t?

  The one time I spoke telepathically to her, she threatened to smear cigar ash all over my blade. She does not appreciate magic or revere me the way she should.

  I’m surprised you didn’t retaliate to such a threat.

  Oh, I did. I incinerated her next three cigars. Jaxi smirked into his mind. While they were in her mouth.

  That must have been alarming.

  Indeed. I was hoping she would wet herself. She did not, alas, but her curses were most satisfying.

  “Captain Trip?” came a woman’s voice from behind him.

  Trip lurched to his feet, thinking Blazer had come to berate him for stopping when the flier wasn’t fully repaired, but he realized it was Rysha. Blazer and Kaika were over at one of the other inlets, talking to Duck and Dreyak, the two men having found the group, thanks to Jaxi communicating with Duck, someone who apparently didn’t mind a sword talking into his mind.

  “Hi, Rysha. Lieutenant Ravenwood.” Why couldn’t he remember to address her properly?

  Duck was on the first mission I went on with Ridge and Sardelle, Jaxi said. I’ve had a long time to school him in the proper respect and etiquette to use with a powerful soulblade.

  How fortunate for him.

  Was that sarcasm? I can see you’ll also need schooling.

  I thought you didn’t like to teach.

  In certain areas, it’s a pleasure.

  Should I be glad I don’t have cigars to incinerate?

  I’m sure you have other incineratable items.

  Incineratable? Is that a word?

  It was in the Referatu language. We had many ways to speak of magically applying fire to targets.

  “Are you all right, sir?” Rysha waved at the first-aid kit sitting on the log and his bare side—he’d removed his shirt for his self-examination. “I meant to come offer you help earlier, but got distracted.” She waved toward Blazer and Kaika. “Also, you didn’t mention that you had such deep wounds.” Her expression grew stern.

  “They’re more like scratches. And you can call me Trip,” he offered, mostly hoping she would invite him to use her first name. A lot of the officers did, though it wasn’t automatic when there were rank differences. “Without a captain or a sir. I mean, I just got my rank three days ago, and there was no official ceremony, so I kind of feel like a fraud.”

  She lifted her gaze from the gouge in his side. He pretended she’d been admiring his physique, but he supposed she had brawnier physiques to admire among the men in elite troops training. Even her fellow artillery soldiers did a lot more PT than pilots did, he was sure. Pilots were probably the only soldiers encouraged to weigh less instead of more, since those extra pounds could make a difference when it came to maneuverability. Not that he was puny. He was just lean and wiry instead of big and brawny.

  “Yes, sir. Trip. You’re welcome to call me Rysha.” Her mouth quirked. She’d probably noticed he already had a few times. “Can I give you a hand? Those look like they’ve already closed up prett
y well. Did you use some of the healing salve?”

  “The what?” Trip peered into the open kit. “I took the painkiller. I didn’t poke through and examine all the other vials and bottles. There are some things in there that aren’t in the kits over in Charkolt.”

  “You’ll definitely want to use the healing salve. The king ordered the scientist Tolemek Targoson—did you know he used to be the pirate called Deathmaker?—to make enough for most of the units out of the capital to have them in their kits. We’re not supposed to know it, but it’s rumored he uses magic as well as chemicals to make his compounds. They’re quite effective, but that does mean they can’t be mass-produced. That’s probably why they haven’t made it out to your unit.” Rysha straddled the log beside him. “Let me wash it first and apply some of the antiseptic. Did you know that one of the first widely used antiseptics was carbolic acid? The doctors used to spray it on everyone and everything in an operating room in the belief that its vapors created a bacteria-free environment.”

  “I hope you’re not going to spray acid on my bullet wounds. That sounds painful.”

  “No, just apply some of this iodine and potassium tincture that’s in the kit. I can’t promise it won’t sting.”

  A truly savage form of cleaning wounds, Jaxi said. You’re lucky your blood will help you heal.

  Trip ignored her. He was busy smiling at Rysha and appreciating her ministrations.

  He lifted his arm as she leaned down to smear the antiseptic on the gouge. Then, realizing he was waving his armpit at her, sniffed it to see if that was as heinous a crime as he feared. Damn, it was. He tried to curl up his arm, so it was down but not in the way.

  Her gaze was focused on his wound, so he thought she didn’t notice his shifting around, but then she said, “I think we’re expected to smell like unwashed exercise clothes when we’re on missions. It’s not like there are showers in the fliers.”