“The tube?”
“Never mind. You’ll find out when you ride in one.” Ridge squinted down the street toward his house. It had come into view and was still standing. There wasn’t any smoke billowing from broken windows. “If you’d agree to do the work of my machine guns, we might be able to mount you in front of the cockpit.”
Sardelle was trying to imagine the feasibility of this—thus far, she had only seen the fliers from the ground—when she caught his quick smirk. “Ah, that was a joke.”
“Let me mull on things. I might come up with something.”
“Don’t get in trouble on my behalf, please.” She already worried they would find trouble at his house when they arrived.
Yes, about that… You might not want to bring the homeowner in just yet.
Jaxi! Why haven’t you been talking to me? And what do you expect me to do with Ridge? We’re only a half a block away.
I’ve been using a lot of effort to remain hidden. Those women had some sort of device with them that could detect magic. I had to figure out how to thwart it. I don’t care for all these new technological advancements. This century is complicated. As for your pretty pilot, take him for a few laps around the block.
He’s not a dog, Jaxi.
Fine, but I can’t be blamed. I was only defending myself. I’m pretty sure those women were looking for me specifically. They kept muttering about swords.
“Jaxi says the house may not be as we left it,” Sardelle said, following Ridge up the walkway. “The intruders weren’t tidy. She’s trying to clean up now.”
Ridge stopped with his hand on the door. “Do you know how strange that sounds?”
“The idea that Jaxi would do something so helpful as cleaning? Or the fact that she can?”
“All of that, yes.”
Sardelle put a supporting hand on his arm, in case he needed it when they walked inside. He opened the door, and a picture frame zipped past, inches from his face. He blinked slowly as he turned to watch it float across the room and affix itself to the wall above his stove. Then his eyes lowered and stayed closed. He took a deep breath.
Sardelle winced and walked inside for a closer look. You made this mess? Or the intruders did?
It was them. But possibly they didn’t start throwing things around in disgust until I started dropping pots on their heads.
The awful green-and-yellow couch didn’t look any more appealing when it was lying on its back, its cushions thrown across the room. Chairs and tables were likewise overturned, and Ridge’s picture collection was all over the floor and dusted with something white. Oh, a flour canister had been knocked over, the powder strewn everywhere. Pots and pans littered the floor in the kitchen. Something that looked like a smear of blood decorated one of the counters.
A cold draft rustled Sardelle’s dress. Ridge had opened his eyes, but he was still standing in the doorway, staring.
She grimaced. “Are you dumbfounded because of the mess? Or because your pictures are rehanging themselves?”
Ridge shut the door, removed his cap, and scraped his fingers through his hair. “All of that, yes,” he repeated.
He managed one of his quirky grins for her. It didn’t seem forced—he had looked more stunned than truly upset—but that didn’t keep her from feeling bad. This was her fault.
“Let me check on Jaxi. And make sure she’s still snuggled in with your mug collection.”
“My what?”
“You have a number of glass steins under the bed. We’ve, ah, discussed them.”
“Oh, I was wondering where those went. People always give them to me whenever the squadron helps out in different parts of the country and lands long enough for a drink. I started to get concerned about my reputation after I received the tenth or twelfth. I do like a drink now and then, but does the average Iskandian subject think I’m perpetually drunk?” A heavy thud sounded as Ridge pushed the couch into the upright position. He was the first to admit it was loathsome, but he sprawled on it to read every night. Sardelle wondered if it was telling that it was the first thing he straightened.
“Probably not if they’ve seen you fly.” Sardelle fished Jaxi out from beneath the bed and tucked her purloined scrolls behind the box of steins at the same time. “Those loopy loops and twisty screw moves you do would be difficult in an inebriated state.”
It’s about time. None of this would have happened if you’d taken me with you in the first place.
Keep nagging like that. It’ll ensure I want to take you places.
Please, you know I’m perfectly capable of nagging, no matter where in the world you are.
“Loopy… loops? I’m going to make sure nobody ever puts you on a committee for naming things.”
“Is there such a committee?” Sardelle had met a number of his pilots and had to wonder who had thought Pimples, Duck, and Weasel would be good names for brave young men who risked their lives daily.
A knock sounded at the front door, and Ridge didn’t answer her.
Same people, Jaxi?
No. A man I haven’t encountered before. He has two pistols and a number of knives hidden under his jacket.
Sardelle hurried out of the bedroom and entered the living room as Ridge opened the door. His hand twitched toward the pistol under his own jacket, and she tensed, ready to defend him.
The man standing outside wasn’t tall, broad, or beefy, but he wore black trousers, a black turtleneck shirt, and a black jacket. He had fine features, a cleft chin, short sandy hair combed to one side, and frosty green eyes. Though he stood several inches shorter than Ridge, he had a presence that made him seem larger. Intimidating. Ridge didn’t take a step back, but something in the way he held his shoulders made Sardelle believe he wanted to. The man’s gaze swept past Ridge, taking in the disheveled living room—and her—with a faint sneer.
“Ahnsung,” Ridge said. “I’d feign surprise that the guards let you on the post, but I suppose you go where you want.”
“They don’t know I’m here.”
“Seems they don’t know a lot of people are here these days. I’m going to talk to someone about additional training.”
The man—Ahnsung—didn’t smile or give any indication that he appreciated the humor. It was the opposite, rather, with his brows lowering, as if he was considering a punch to Ridge’s nose. Or something worse. Sardelle might assume this was some superior officer, since Ridge so often butted heads with them, but if this man were in the military, wouldn’t he be wearing a uniform? It was the middle of the workday.
“You here to threaten me again, Ahnsung?” Ridge asked.
“No.” The green eyes closed to slits. “Though you’re fortunate you weren’t here last month. I would have shot you if you had been.”
Sardelle gaped. Ridge merely grunted and said, “Not surprising.”
Last month? What had been happening then? She and Ridge had still been up at that fort.
“You’re about to take her into trouble again,” Ahnsung said.
All at once, the puzzle pieces snapped into place. Her. Ahnsung. Last month, Lieutenant Ahn had been reported dead. This must be a relative. A father? Nobody had spoken of such a person to her, but other than the weekends at Ridge’s cabin, when she had been more intent on teaching Tolemek, Sardelle hadn’t spent much time with Ahn. The man was old enough to be her father. Late forties.
“Amazing how quickly news from secret meetings with the king gets around,” Ridge said.
How could this man know what members of his team Ridge was choosing to take on this new mission? He hadn’t told anyone except Sardelle yet, had he? Unless Ahnsung had been spying on them while they’d been walking. If so, he was good. She hadn’t sensed a thing. Jaxi hadn’t warned her, either.
I was busy picking up pots and picture frames. And might I point out how lowly a task that is for someone with my talent? You’d think I was someone’s apprentice.
Those years of demeaning tasks shouldn’t be so far back in
your memory. You were barely past your apprenticeship when you stored yourself in the soulblade.
Please, I’d been a full-fledged sorcerer for years.
I did look up your history before we bonded, Sardelle pointed out. You hadn’t even finished your final papers.
Because I knew I was dying by then. As if I was going to waste my last months writing papers when there were enemies to turn to ash.
Ah, my apologies.
Jaxi seemed to have come to terms with the shortness of her life long before Sardelle had met her, but every now and then, a sense of wistfulness or regret slipped past the sarcastic irreverence.
“If you take her to Cofahre,” Ahnsung said, “I’ll hold you responsible for her.”
“I consider myself responsible for all of my pilots,” Ridge said.
“I also consider you responsible for the fact that she’s running around with that—” the man’s lips twisted into a much more open sneer than the earlier one, “—pirate.” Sardelle didn’t need a sorcerer’s talent for telepathy to know that wasn’t the first word that had come to his mind.
“I don’t see how I can be responsible for who she’s involved with—”
“If you hadn’t let her get shot down, she never would have been a prisoner of war.” Ahnsung leaned forward, pointing at Ridge’s nose. “She never would have met that beast.”
“I wasn’t there when she was shot down. I was following my orders to be elsewhere. Even if I had been there, this is a dangerous job, and it’s possible that something will happen someday, something I can’t stop. You’d better reconcile yourself to that. Or, here’s a thought: why don’t you talk to her about her work and who she’s sleeping with?”
Ridge was tense. Ahnsung was tenser.
Sardelle loosened the barriers she usually kept around her mind, both for her sanity and to give other people their privacy, trying to get a feel for what Ahnsung intended to do, besides scowl. Was he truly a danger?
His mind was more schooled than Sardelle would have expected from the glacial expression fixed on Ridge, and he didn’t give away much, at least on a surface reading. She did catch Tolemek’s face floating around in his thoughts. This confrontation had more to do with Cas’s new friend than the danger she might be in from Ridge’s new mission. Sardelle didn’t dare dig deeper. Aside from the morality issue, some people could sense sorcerers poking around in their thoughts.
He’s a sniper, and he wouldn’t mind putting a hole into your lover’s chest—they seem to have a history of arguments. Even if she had been young—and hadn’t bothered with those final papers—Jaxi had been a more skilled telepath than Sardelle ever would be, and she could slip into and out of another’s thoughts without alerting them, usually even when dealing with sorcerers. Not that they encountered many of those these days. It seems he doesn’t randomly kill people, though. Only if he’s paid. He has contemplated finding someone to pay him to shoot Colonel Zirkander.
Sardelle clenched her hand into a fist. Ridge wouldn’t appreciate having a woman protect him in a fight, but that wouldn’t stop her from doing it if he was in danger. Why?
Because Ridge was the one to encourage his daughter to join the military, and he backed her up when she wanted to attend flight school. Ahnsung wanted her to follow in his footsteps. Join the family business.
The family business? Shooting people?
Apparently he’s quite well known for it.
Lovely.
“I gather you haven’t spoken to her in years,” Ridge said, after they had glared at each other for a while. “She might appreciate it if you stopped by to check on her.” As if the man’s icy stare mattered nothing to him, Ridge offered a wry smirk. “Let her introduce you to her pirate. Maybe they’ll take you out to dinner. Wait, that might not be a good idea. I hear he has a number of strange potions he can slip into a man’s food.”
Ahnsung stood there seething for a long moment, but he finally lowered his finger. “You like to walk the cliff’s edge, don’t you?”
“Just living up to the name Dad stuck me with.”
Ahnsung snorted softly.
“We’re leaving in the morning,” Ridge said. “She’ll be packing tonight. Plenty of time for you to stop by, say a few words. Give her some fatherly advice on staying alive in enemy territory.”
Ahnsung clasped his hands behind his back. He’d recovered his equanimity and didn’t react to Ridge’s words, other than to look past him again, considering Sardelle and the mess around her.
“Your home is in disarray,” he said.
“It must be those keen observational skills that make you such a fine sniper.”
Ahnsung reached under the flap of his jacket. Ridge tensed again, and Sardelle felt the surge of concern go through him as he wondered if he had pushed the man too far. But Ahnsung merely withdrew a business card and extended it.
“Er?” Ridge frowned at it without taking it.
“In case you are in need of my services.” Ahnsung laid the card on the side of an upended bookcase near the door, then walked away without another word.
Sardelle waited for Ridge to close the door before saying, “Did that man just offer to kill your home intruders for you?”
“I believe so.” Ridge pushed a hand through his hair, leaving it in a state of disarray that matched the room’s, albeit the hair was attractive like that, the room less so. “For the right price. I don’t know what he thinks officers make these days, but I doubt I could afford him.”
Sardelle stepped past a potted plant, the dirt spilled onto the carpet, and slipped her arms around Ridge’s waist to give him a hug.
He returned it without hesitation, resting his cheek against her hair. “What’s this for?”
“All the craziness I’ve brought into your life.”
Ridge chuckled softly into her hair. “I’m not above accepting affections given out of guilt, but I should inform you that my life was hectic before I met you too. In fact, certain colleagues have suggested that my unique personality and unconventional approach to life attracts interesting people and unorthodox situations. So if you’re some kind of repository of craziness, it was probably inevitable that you found me.”
“Were these colleagues who respected you or were they trying to point out a character flaw?” Sardelle appreciated his attempts to make her feel better—and let him know with a touch to the cheek and a fond smile—even if she couldn’t shirk her guilt that easily.
“I believe so, yes.” Ridge sighed and released her with reluctance. “I need to get up to the hangar. General Ort’s already going to be wondering about my diversion. I need to pick the rest of the team, not to mention visiting Lieutenant Ahn’s pirate.”
It amused Sardelle that Tolemek was still Ahn’s pirate to him, even when the four of them had spent several days together out at his cabin and she had started teaching Tolemek to recognize his talent and apply it to more than the creation of potions. Of course, Ridge had done his best to pretend nothing of a magical nature was going on by wandering out to fish, never mind that he had to break a hole in the ice and sit on a snowy stump in freezing weather to pursue the hobby.
“I have to convince him to come along,” Ridge added.
“Tell him you’ll fly past his sister’s sanitarium.”
“That did occur to me. But it’s a big continent, and I don’t know if our destination and his are within a thousand miles of each other.”
“Your fliers cover ground quickly. If you flew at night and weren’t noticed…” Sardelle shrugged. She shouldn’t push too hard. It would be convenient for her, certainly, if Ridge could pick up the sister while he was there anyway, but she would find a way if he didn’t. It would be interesting to see the world and how much it had changed during her sleep. Granted, her Iskandian complexion would be troublesome for navigating Cofahre, but she could manage.
“Two problems,” Ridge said. “First, we still wouldn’t have a spot for an extra passenger. Second, I’m not in comman
d of the mission. I’m just… the flying rickshaw service.”
“No chance the mission commander can be enticed to deviate?”
“It would take someone a lot prettier than me to entice that man to do anything.” Ridge gave her a farewell kiss and opened the door. “My apologies for leaving you with a mess. I’ll come back and help clean it up tonight.” He waved and jogged down the path to the street, his pace quick enough that Sardelle regretted having delayed him by bringing him back here.
She didn’t want to spend their last night together cleaning, either. Of course, if she could figure out a way to go with him, it wouldn’t have to be their last night together.
We’re going on a trip? Jaxi sounded excited.
I’m not sure. Are you willing to ride strapped to a flier like a machine gun?
The view would be better than from under the bed. And you can escape these people trying to blow you up and steal me.
Yes, but I’d rather solve that problem than run from it. Can you describe the people who were here, throwing things around?
Women in cloaks. Not a uniform, but they were wearing trousers rather than dresses.
Like the woman who was following me earlier?
Yes.
Sardelle wondered if she had time to do a little research before Ridge returned from work.
It depends. Are we going to clean the house or leave that for him?
I thought you could clean the house while I went to a library. Sardelle smiled. She didn’t truly intend to leave Jaxi again, not with people hunting for her, but it was fun to tease her from time to time.
You know, I don’t have to stay out of your thoughts when you and old Ridgewalker are enjoying your athletic embraces. I could comment on your technique.
Sardelle grimaced. Given that you’ve admitted you passed away before garnering any personal experience in that area, I don’t think it would be fair of you to judge.
Oh, but I’ve read a lot of books. And had some handlers who were much more libidinous than you. I’ve seen much.
Why don’t we just clean up this mess as a team, then go to the library together?