05 Dragon Blood: The Blade's Memory

  Therrik had opened his mouth, a protest on his lips, but he frowned at Ridge’s last couple of sentences. “Rockets? What are you talking about?”

  Ridge stared at him. “How can you not know? Didn’t you get Apex’s report? The dragon blood samples?”

  Since Therrik continued to look puzzled, Ridge started to doubt himself—to doubt his officer. Apex had placed that tracking device. What if he hadn’t reported in and hadn’t brought the vials of blood? But even if he hadn’t, surely Kaika would have shared all that information with her superiors. Or…

  “Wait, was General Ort still in charge then?” Ridge tried to remember exactly what Kaika and Apex had said when they had found him on Owanu Owanus. They’d said Ort had been missing, but maybe he hadn’t been when they first reported in. Maybe Ort had received the information and then been kidnapped before being able to brief anyone.

  “No, he disappeared shortly after the king did,” Therrik said. “Several people have disappeared. Maybe you’ll be next, now that you’re back. I’ve noticed it’s the mouthy ones that go.”

  “Have you?” Ridge muttered. Ort wasn’t mouthy, not generally, but Ridge could see him protesting something like these foolish orders to send both squadrons away. “So, why are you still here? Is it true you’re sleeping with the queen?”

  Therrik made a choking noise, and his hands, which had been pressed flat against the desk’s surface, now curled around the edges.

  He’s thinking of strangling you, Sardelle informed him. You predicted that well.

  I’m surprised he’s restrained himself for so long. You getting anything from him?

  “Listen, Therrik. I don’t care if you are.” Not entirely true. Ridge liked the king well enough and would prefer to believe his wife was loyal to him. “But tell me someone knows about the dragon blood and the new Cofah weapons. What did Apex report to you?”

  “Yes, we know about the dragon blood. Vile stuff.” Therrik jerked a thumb toward the back of the office.

  Ridge had to rise to his tiptoes and lean to the side to see around him. What he spotted tucked behind the stand for the telegraph machine made him gape. Even without seeing the contents, he recognized the bags that he and the others had used to tote the vials of dragon blood out of the volcano laboratory. They slumped dejectedly in the corner, not looking like anyone had even investigated them.

  “What’s been going on around here?” Ridge thrust his arm toward the bags. “Our scientists should be studying that, trying to make weapons or defenses to counteract what the Cofah are going to launch at us, what they could be flying over here to launch at us even as we speak. Didn’t Apex tell you how viable their weapons are? One of those smart rockets, or whatever you want to call them, followed me all through a canyon and nearly killed me.” It would have killed him if not for Jaxi’s intervention.

  “I’ve seen you in canyons. You could crash yourself without the help of a rocket.” Therrik waved a dismissive hand. “Even if they’re making weapons, they’ll be testing them for a while first, I’m sure. They haven’t had the dragon blood for long—we would have known about it. It’ll wait until after the fliers get back from their mission, a mission you really should join in with. In fact, I insist you join it.”

  “Does the queen insist I join it? Is she the one trying to get all of the fliers out of the city? To make us vulnerable to our enemies?”

  Getting anything from him?

  Yes, some. Bring up the sword, if you can.

  “What makes you so sure an attack is coming, Zirkander?” Therrik glowered suspiciously.

  He’s truly wondering if you know something he doesn’t, Sardelle thought.

  I know all kinds of things he doesn’t. “I’m not sure, but if we have spies over there, we have to assume they have spies here, spies who are reporting back that we’re having a few problems right now.” Ridge strode forward until only the desk separated them. “You don’t know where the king was taken do you?”

  “No.”

  “Does the queen know?”

  “How should I know?”

  He’s lying. An image of a lighthouse flashed through his mind when you asked.

  “You didn’t maybe get hired or coerced to kidnap him, did you?” An expression of pure rage contorted the man’s face, but Ridge pressed on, hoping to give Sardelle the opening into his mind that she needed. “Maybe you and your big ugly dragon-slaying sword?”

  Therrik’s muscles had been bunching, as if he meant to leap over the desk and attack, but he froze when he heard those last words.

  “That’s right. We found it. Funny thing, though. This assassin was wielding it, trying to use it to kill a dragon. Ahnsung. I assume you’ve heard of him. I shot him. Guess I’ve got another reason to watch my back. How did an assassin get ahold of your sword, anyway? Or is it yours? I know you’ve got the box under your bed, but I suppose you could have stolen it. I—”

  Duck! Sardelle urged at the same time as Therrik exploded into motion.

  Ridge ducked—he almost tumbled all the way to the floor in his effort to do so. Therrik sailed over his head, a powerful gust of wind coming from nowhere to add to his momentum and keep him from grabbing Ridge. He flew all the way to the door and bashed against it with his shoulder so hard that the wall rattled. That did not keep Therrik from whirling back toward Ridge.

  “I didn’t steal anything,” he snarled, his hands outstretched. He took a step toward Ridge but seemed to be fighting something. The wind had stopped, but some other barrier restrained him. “That sword has been in my family for a thousand years.”

  Ridge darted behind the desk so there would be one more barrier between them.

  “And I wouldn’t kidnap the king. I’m loyal, more loyal than you, you smug bastard.” Therrik looked down at his hands, confusion replacing some of the rage on his face. Was he just now realizing that something was holding him back?

  “Did she ask you to?” Ridge asked, trying to decide if the way Therrik had phrased that denial hinted of that.

  “I’m loyal to the king,” Therrik repeated, then his lips reared back in a snarl. “Your witch. She’s here!”

  “You think I’d come visit your tiny, unstable brain on my own?” Ridge asked. “Who gave the sword to Ahnsung? He didn’t kidnap the king, did he?” No, Ahnsung couldn’t have been in two places at once. He had been hunting the dragon.

  Yes, but he got there after us, remember? Therrik believes Ahnsung was the one who kidnapped the king. After he refused to do it for the queen.

  For the queen. She’s really the one behind everything?

  Therrik believes she is.

  Therrik seethed, his muscles straining against the fabric of his shirt and his face flushed red as he tried to physically fight the invisible barrier that held him.

  Why? Ridge asked. Is she working for the Cofah?

  He doesn’t think so. She wanted to get rid of me and of Tolemek, of any magic users on the continent, actually, but apparently, it was our appearance in the city that spurred her to action. The king gave Tolemek a position here and stocked that lab. And he didn’t particularly care that I was walking around with you. It enraged her. The king wouldn’t listen, saying he wasn’t going to prosecute people for their blood. She decided to deal with us—with all sorcerers—her own way. This is the story as it was relayed to Therrik, by the way. I have no way to know if it’s the truth. But Therrik’s prejudices are clear. He was happy to go along with her insofar as getting rid of us, and even volunteered to get his family’s sword out of the crypt, because it could slay sorcerers as well as dragons. He’s quite proud that he’s descended from dragon slayers.

  “I’ll bet.” Ridge eyed Therrik, wondering if he was about to have a stroke. His face had gone from red to almost purple. So all of this is about getting rid of people with dragon blood? It has nothing to do with the Cofah?

  With the king gone, she saw this as her chance to ensure all of the Referatu and their descendants were utterly wiped o
ut. As if Iskandia didn’t nearly accomplish that three hundred years ago. Sardelle’s bitterness seeped through the link, and he could not blame her for it. The next time she was clinging to a wall while the queen walked past underneath, he wagered she would do more than watch in silence.

  She didn’t kill her husband, did she? Ridge asked. Was he truly kidnapped or… something else? If Ahnsung had been involved, it could definitely have been a more final treatment.

  Therrik believes he’s being stored somewhere out of the way. He doesn’t know, but thinks it has to do with a lighthouse. I don’t recognize the one he’s thinking of. He may not even recognize it. I get the sense that he’s never been there, since he did draw the line at being a part of the kidnapping. The queen asked him to do it first, but he wouldn’t betray the king, not even to get rid of witches.

  He’s so noble.

  I hate to interrupt, my interrogation specialists, came Jaxi’s voice, but company is coming.

  What kind of company? Ridge would have looked out the window if the office had one, but there wasn’t much access to natural light in the hangar when the big rolling doors were not open.

  Several soldiers coming up on the tram. I think they’re here for you.

  Wonderful. General Arstonhamer must have checked up on Ridge. Sardelle? Can you convince Therrik to step outside for a few minutes? Uhm, Jaxi? Is there any chance you could delay that tram for a few minutes?

  You and Sardelle aren’t planning a rutting session before you’re parted, are you?

  I’m not planning anything that enjoyable, I assure you.

  Ridge turned toward the telegraph machine. As he composed a hasty message to tap out, he ignored the puppet-like way Therrik was jerked and ambulated out the door. Ridge had to send his message to every hangar, in the hope that at least some people would come because he asked. Some of them would doubtlessly question why he was trying to send orders, when everybody knew he wasn’t high enough to order anyone except his own squadron around. He hoped that his reputation might convince some people to at least pass along his message. This was the only way he had to get in touch with Wolf and Tiger Squadrons and request that they come home.

  Would you like the tram to be delayed indefinitely? Jaxi asked. They’re starting to get irritated, and the fellow down below is banging against his machine with a wrench.

  Sardelle walked through the door as Ridge sent the last message. As much as he would have liked to keep the soldiers from coming up—especially if they were, as he suspected, military police—they would not be able to hide up here indefinitely. He could have taken the two-person flier and flown off to parts unknown, but he needed to be here in case any of his people did return. And he needed to find a way to get Kaika out of the dungeon. In short, he needed all of the doubt to be erased from his name. He just wasn’t sure how to make that happen.

  Ridge picked up one of the bags of dragon blood, the vials inside clinking. He handed it to Sardelle. “Will you see to it that Tolemek gets this? Maybe he can create some weapons or defenses that we can use to protect the city. Whatever his morals will allow him to make. Since Iskandia is his home now, too, I’m hoping he’ll want to defend it.”

  “I’ll give it to him.” Sardelle accepted the bag, then squeezed his arm. “As far as clearing your name, if you go through with my plan, that should be easier. I’ll disappear, so I’m not seen here with you. Jaxi is trying to adjust Therrik’s thoughts so that he doesn’t remember my role in subduing him.” She winced. “It’s not… morally acceptable, but I hope the gods will understand in this case.”

  “I don’t intend to tell them you’re some megalomaniacal crazy woman who had control over me,” Ridge said.

  The soldiers have reached the top and are getting out of the tram, Jaxi informed them.

  “Save your career, Ridge. You’ll only have the power to do what needs to be done if you’re trusted by your superiors. What these people think of me doesn’t matter. We can see each other in secret in the future if necessary.” She kissed him, then let go of his arm and backed away.

  Secret? Ridge didn’t want her to have to spend her life in hiding, nor did he only want to see her in secret, damn it. “My mother would be devastated if she never saw you again,” he said, because it was the only thing that came to his mind.

  As she smiled sadly back at him and disappeared through the door, he wished he had said something far more important. Like that he loved her.

  I know you do. I love you too.

  Boot steps rang against the cement floor in the hangar. With his shoulders slumped, Ridge walked toward the doorway. He didn’t want anyone to notice the telegraph machine or be there to read any return messages that would hint at what he had sent.

  General Arstonhamer strode toward the office with six MPs marching at his side.

  “A little more force than is necessary for just me, sir.” Ridge spread his arms.

  “Is it?”

  All of the men were stealing covert glances toward the unconscious figure slumped against the wall beside the office door. Even if Therrik did not bear any bruises, his shirt was untucked and his jacket rumpled. Ropes bound his hands behind his back, and a line of drool trickled from the corner of his mouth.

  Ridge thought the men would assume that “his witch” had been responsible, but they kept glancing back and forth from Ridge to Therrik. Did they think he had knocked the brawny officer out? That would either be good for his reputation… or the final nail in his coffin.

  “Cuff him,” Arstonhamer said.

  Yup, the nail was looking more likely.

  Ridge did not resist. He let them lead him toward the door, though he couldn’t help but cast his longing gaze back toward his flier as he went. He wasn’t sure if it was because he worried he would never be allowed to fly again or because he could have taken Sardelle and flown away, leaving this mess for someone else to handle. Wishful thinking there.

  Say what you need to say, Ridge, came Sardelle’s voice, seemingly softer and farther away than it had been before. I’m going to find a way to get Kaika before it’s too late for her.

  Ridge wished he could find those parting words encouraging, but all he could think was that Sardelle was going to go risk her life, and he had absolutely no way to help her.

  Chapter 9

  As night fell, Sardelle leaned against the wall of the last building on the block, watching the street that wound its way up the craggy slope toward the castle. The bag of dragon blood vials lay at her feet, humming with power. She wasn’t sure where to stash the valuable goods while she attempted to extricate Kaika. They needed a safe house closer to town. Of course, they would then risk having that safe house found and blown up.

  She considered the castle and the promontory grounds around it, trying to gauge how many men were on duty up there and whether they were anticipating another infiltration. Though she could not see the spot from her position, she had already checked and knew that men were standing guard on the rocks behind the castle, their lanterns shedding too much light for her to think of sneaking in that way. Workers labored at collapsing the rest of that tunnel. The wall in the wine cellar had already been bricked closed again. Sardelle had a feeling a stealthy incursion would not work tonight. Even from far below the castle, she could tell that double the men walked the walls and stood watch from the towers.

  What are you planning? Jaxi asked as Sardelle observed an ornate wood-paneled steam carriage chugging up the slope. Would it be allowed entrance? It didn’t look like a delivery vehicle, nor was it a military truck. She brushed it with her senses and identified a male driver and two female occupants. Maybe you can wait for the grocery wagon and hide among the cabbages, Jaxi suggested.

  Who delivers groceries at night?

  People with worm-riddled cabbages they want to unload before the sun comes back to illuminate their flawed wares?

  I don’t think anyone would dare send wormy vegetables to the queen at any time of day.

  Y
ou’re probably right. I bet those go to the soldiers. Wasn’t Ridge complaining about army food?

  Sardelle winced, immediately thinking of Ridge locked up in some dingy cell. If he’d had any notion in his mind of fleeing, she would have suggested that she could have held off those soldiers while he powered up his flier. But she had sensed his weariness, that he was tired of running and hiding and spying from outside of the organization he was supposed to be a part of. She didn’t know if he would follow her suggestion, but he wanted to clear his name and return to his unit, ideally taking Therrik’s place instead of serving under him, though he hadn’t had any idea how he could make that happen.

  The castle, Jaxi prompted. You can ask him later if he received wormy cabbages.

  Yes, that will be what I want to discuss when we’re reunited. Sardelle adjusted her position. The cool dampness of the brick wall threatened to seep through her cloak. I haven’t decided on a course of action yet, but was thinking about walking up to the gate, knocking it down, and stomping down to the dungeon to openly haul out Kaika.

  That sounds like a good way to get shot.

  I’d assumed you could keep me shielded while I was stomping and breaking down doors.

  I could, but what about that instant where you need to transfer Kaika from outside of our barrier to inside of it? Not to mention that they could run ahead and shoot her if they see you coming. Or they could hold a knife to her throat. And what if they figure out how to delay us and if they throw such a barrage of bullets at my shield that I run out of the energy to sustain it?

  You? Run out of energy? You melted a ten-foot stone wall.

  If you want me to melt the castle, then I’m your sword. Defenses aren’t my specialty. It’s harder to keep something—or someone—alive than it is to utterly destroy it.