“I do not believe you will need as much of the energy amplification powder as you implied,” Lilah read, “but I’ve made the requested number of vials. Be extremely careful with them, Major. You could bury yourself and your own men as well as our target. It would upset me to lose you.”
Lilah set the note down.
“That’s all it says?” Vann asked.
“Yes.”
“I guess that explains how they brought the mountain down. I’d wondered, especially when I saw the TE-18. Explosives were primitive back then. It was hard to believe...” Vann stopped, since Lilah was frowning fiercely at the note. “What is it?”
“This isn’t proof,” she said, “not exactly. It just insinuates.”
“That Major Therrik talked her into making something that would let his explosives take down the whole mountain instead of just the room or chamber she must have intended? That he used it—used her—to destroy a civilization?” Vann didn’t bother to hide the distaste in his voice. He had already been displeased with this distant relative of his for shooting a fellow officer. The idea of him sleeping with a woman and then shooting her made Vann like him even less. Even if she had been a witch. An enemy should be battled honorably, not through trickery and assassination. He clenched his hand around the musket ball.
“Possibly.” Lilah met his eyes and laid a hand on his forearm. “He’s not you.”
“No, but I prefer to think of myself as descended from heroes rather than villains.”
“We don’t all get the ancestors we wish.” She snorted softly. “And it doesn’t have a damned thing to do with who you become.”
Reminded of the father she had told him about, Vann nodded. Yes, she understood what it was like to be disappointed in one’s family. Hells, she was stuck with that flying glory hound, Zirkander. Vann was relieved that she was nothing like him.
He laid his hand on hers. “Mind if we get out of here, for now? You can come back to explore later, assuming there aren’t more three-hundred-year-old wolves lurking in the tunnels.”
Lilah gazed wistfully around the laboratory, but she nodded. “I’m with you.”
“Good,” he said, wishing it was forever.
“At least until I see that tattoo.”
He snorted. “Maybe I’ll come up with creative ways to keep it hidden then.”
She slid her arm around his waist as they walked out of the alcove. “I’m rather crafty when I want to be.”
He glanced at the smoking guardian. “I believe that.”
Chapter 14
As soon as they left the protection of the laboratory, they returned to unlit, rubble-filled passages. Lilah followed Vann over a pile that stretched to the ceiling, though she kept glancing over her shoulder. A big part of her had wanted to object when he’d suggested that they continue on, but he had been so polite. It hadn’t even been an order. And he’d been right. Even though her stomach kept growling and they had limited supplies, she wanted to sift through every inch of that lab, to learn everything she could about the people who once lived in this mountain. To find so many artifacts in such pristine condition in the middle of these demolished tunnels was amazing.
“We’re getting close to something,” Vann said.
“The way out?”
“Doubtful.” He hefted his sword, which continued to glow a faint green as they walked. That glow had increased again. “More wolves, probably. Unless there’s something else magical down here.”
Lilah fought the urge to slump back against the rubble pile. Even if Vann had been the one dealing with the wolves, she felt weary at the thought of battling more of them. It was so pointless, since they were fighting to protect someone who had died three hundred years ago.
Their tunnel curved, then widened into a cavern, but she could not see far. Piles of rubble littered the ground ahead. She listened for the clack of claws on stone as they wound through the piles.
Vann stopped abruptly as they rounded one in the middle of the cavern. Lilah almost bumped into his back. Bones lay scattered around the base of the rocks. Bones and a dusty army boot.
Vann held his sword over the remains and looked around. Lilah spotted a scrap of dark fabric on the side of the rubble pile. She walked over and picked it up. It was part of a uniform jacket that had been ripped and torn. By an irate wolf? She brought it back to the light and turned it over to the front. A couple of buttons remained, as well as the nametag.
THERRIK.
She looked at Vann’s face, checking to see if he was reading it. Yes, his gaze locked onto the nametag, and grimness took over his face.
“Looks like he didn’t make it out.” Vann walked a few steps and nudged something at the base of the rocks, an old flintlock musket.
“Was he crushed in the rocks that fell in the wake of their explosions?” Lilah wondered. “Or did the residents find out what he had done and send someone after him?”
“Whatever happened, he deserved his fate. I hope the rest of his team made it out.”
“Maybe he stayed behind to guard the way, so they could escape,” Lilah said, finding herself wanting to suggest a possibility that would make his ancestor seem like less of an ass, though after what the man had done, that seemed impossible.
Vann grumbled something unflattering and turned toward the far end of the cavern. Kasandral pulsed, its glow intense and hungry.
Thumps and scrapes came from the darkness ahead of him. Lilah fingered the trigger of her rifle. What would they face next?
“Wolves?” she whispered. Maybe the sword gave him a hint as to what magic he would face.
Vann sighed, his shoulders slumped, and his blade drooped. She stepped up next to him, trying to interpret his reaction. He had never shown any sign of defeat.
More thumps followed, then clanks and clunks. It sounded like rocks being hurled against walls, but there weren’t any explosions to suggest that Kaika might be at work.
Greetings, humans! a male voice spoke into Lilah’s head, almost startling her into falling over.
She glanced back in the direction of the lab, thinking some magical creature might remain alive, some creature that was now talking to them. She’d heard that the Referatu possessed telepathic powers, but she’d never had anyone speak into her mind.
Vann groaned, his sword lowering further, the tip touching the floor. The blade flared an angry green, the brightest that Lilah had seen it, but he did not react as if an enemy headed toward them.
“I know that voice,” Vann said.
“Who is it?” Lilah asked.
I am the god, Bhrava Saruth, the voice spoke into her mind again. She had no idea if she should be terrified or amused. It was an oddly perky voice and did not sound that threatening. If you are in need of my healing powers, I will reach you shortly. A thud sounded, another rock—or giant boulder?—being hurled against a wall. After I heal you and bless you, you may worship me!
“Goodie,” Vann said.
“Who is it?” Lilah asked again.
“Sardelle’s dragon.”
“Sardelle’s dragon is a god?”
“He thinks he’s a god.”
“So we’re being rescued?” Lilah asked.
“We didn’t need to be rescued,” he snapped. “We could have made it out on our own.” He waved in the direction of the noise. “I don’t think we’re far from that tunnel that the soldiers used to get in.”
Amazing how much grumpier Vann could sound when others were around. Others who possessed magic, Lilah supposed, eyeing the sword and its angry green glow. Wondering if he was fighting a compulsion to rush forward and confront the dragon, Lilah eased closer to him.
She clasped his free hand and smiled at him. “Of course we could have made it out on our own, especially with you distracting me from the dark. But if the dragon is friendly, perhaps he can make the journey easier. Will Sardelle be with him?”
“Likely,” Vann said.
He still sounded a touch grumpy, but he return
ed her handclasp. He also sheathed the sword in its scabbard. Some of the green glow escaped around the hilt, and Lilah swore she sensed a feeling of indignation radiating from it.
“Does sticking it in there make it try to influence you less?” she asked.
“No.”
“Ah.”
“Putting it in its box does. Somewhat. It’s still managed to get me to do foolish things, even when it’s locked inside of that.”
“Foolish things?”
“I tried to kill Sardelle.”
“Ah,” Lilah said again, perhaps getting a gist for why there was tension between Ridge and Vann, aside from the different career paths they had chosen. “Was that before she saved your life?”
“Yes.”
More thuds sounded, then the soft murmur of voices. Some kind of bluish-white light came into view, limning a rubble pile.
“If you manage to remain polite and cordial with our rescuers, I will—” Aware of others drawing closer, Lilah rose onto her tiptoes to whisper the rest in his ear. Considering the implicit naughtiness, a whisper seemed appropriate.
Vann’s eyelids drooped, and he gave her a sexy look that heated her from the inside out. “How cordial?”
“Well, definitely don’t kill anyone. If that’s an easy request, maybe you could invite them to a nice dinner at the outpost.”
Vann’s jaw sagged open. “The dragon too?”
“I know that Captain Kaika, for one, would like to sit next to him.” Lilah turned toward the approaching light, the voices growing easier to pick out now. She recognized Ridge’s irreverent tone, as he said something about spending entirely too much time in caves this year. Lilah craned her neck, eager to get a look at this dragon, especially after having only dealt in dragon fossils for most of her life.
“As a soldier loyal to the king, I’m not sure I should act as a procurer for his woman’s dragon infatuation. But, I will attempt to be hospitable, if you add in—” This time, Vann bent to whisper a suggestion in her ear.
She wasn’t sure whether to grin or flush with embarrassment and ended up doing both.
Vann released her hand as the first of the approaching group walked into view, Ridge. Lilah almost grabbed his hand back. She didn’t want him to feel that they had anything to hide. She had no intention of skulking around and keeping the world from knowing that she cared about Vann, and she certainly hoped he found nothing shameful about his new relationship with her.
From the way Vann crossed his arms and stared defiantly at Ridge, maybe his withdrawn hand had more to do with feeling the need to put up a strong front for his superior officer. Or his enemy, as he seemed to consider Ridge.
Lilah wondered what had brought Ridge back out here so soon. She hadn’t expected to see him again for weeks.
A black-haired woman with blue eyes walked at his side. Sardelle? She had elegant features and carried herself with a quiet dignity that seemed an odd match for Ridge’s restless energy. He waved effusively at them. As always, he looked like he longed to be in the air, flying around and shooting holes into enemy airships. Indeed, he wore his flight jacket, cap, and scarf, as if he’d just flown in. Sardelle wore typical travel clothes, but the sword in her hand, the sword responsible for the bluish glow, was anything but typical. Perhaps Lilah should feel inadequate since she did not have a sword to carry about?
Kaika and Bosmont came behind Ridge and Sardelle, their faces stained with soot and Kaika’s sleeve ripped from cuff to shoulder. They must have had another run-in or two with the wolves. A fifth person ambled to the side of the group, a handsome young man with mussy blond hair that fell into his eyes. He looked like one of Lilah’s beach-loving students who might stroll into class with sand stuck between his sandaled toes and no sign of his books or even a pencil. Had he not glanced at her with the most startlingly vibrant green eyes, she wouldn’t have guessed that he was anything other than what he appeared.
“Lilah?” Ridge asked, looking her up and down. “Are you all right? I was worried about the reception you might be receiving up here and decided to come back early and bring Sardelle out to meet you. When Kaika explained that you’d been trapped down here with—” His gaze flicked toward Vann, but he didn’t finish the sentence. “That you’d been trapped down here since yesterday, I was afraid I’d come too late.”
“I’m fine. I’ve had Vann to protect me.” Lilah pointed at his leg, though he was too proud to favor it if it was bothering him. “He was chewed on by a magical wolf on my behalf.”
“Vann?” Ridge mouthed.
Sardelle looked from Lilah to Vann and smiled. It was a knowing smile, which seemed odd, since Lilah had never met the woman before. She couldn’t possibly know about the evening Lilah and Vann had spent together, could she?
“Yes, we’ve had an eventful day. Or night.” Lilah shrugged. “I’m afraid I’ve lost track down here. There’s a laboratory back there, and we’ve been piecing together what happened here three hundred years ago.”
“Have you?” Sardelle breathed, her eyes holding a mix of emotions. Interest, certainly, but something else as well. Pain? Fear? If Bosmont’s story was true, and Sardelle had been here three hundred years ago, she must have known the people who were now nothing but buried skeletons.
“It’s a... tragic story.” Lilah looked toward Vann.
“Yes.” Sardelle closed her eyes for a long moment, and Ridge silently clasped her hand. Finally, she focused on Vann, waving at his bandaged leg. “Colonel, if you like, I can take a look at that injury.”
“Not necessary,” Vann said shortly.
Lilah nudged him with her elbow.
He glanced at her, inhaled deeply, then faced Sardelle again. “Yes, I would appreciate that, and I wish to invite you all to dinner at the outpost.” He spoke rapidly, as if he’d been rehearsing and wanted to get the loathsome words out as quickly as possible.
Lilah grinned, pleased at the attempt.
Ridge tripped over a rock and nearly fell over.
Sardelle’s eyebrows rose, though only for a second before she recovered and said, “We would like that very much.”
The young blond man—the dragon in human form—ambled between them and peered in the direction of the laboratory. “I sense a great deal of magic back in that direction, high priestess.”
“That’s where the lab is,” Lilah said as she tried to figure out with whom the dragon was speaking. High priestess? “It’s mostly intact. I believe that’s where she—the assistant president—put the curse on the dragon bones. I’m not sure if curse is the appropriate term. But I think she was the one who stole them from a museum and brought them up here as part of a ruse, to keep people from using this entrance to the mountain, so nobody would be around to notice that soldiers were infiltrating it.”
Sardelle frowned as the explanation continued. “We don’t—didn’t—put curses on things, at least not in the Iskandian sense of the word, but that’s actually the term that came to mind when I first sensed the fossils. The field they’re emitting is subtle and almost seems natural to me. It was Bhrava Saruth who sensed that someone had tampered with them, giving them a... herashi malish. A field of chaotic energy. He said it would be capable of causing the erratic incidents that Captain Bosmont was describing to me.”
“I believe he called those incidents crazy witch craziness,” Kaika said.
“Yes, it was a short but pithy description,” Sardelle said dryly.
“Engineers like pith, ma’am,” Bosmont said.
Vann grunted, managing to make the inarticulate syllable sound both sarcastic and derisive.
Sardelle walked over to join the blond man, murmuring a question to him. What had his name been? Bhrava Sur-something?
Bhrava Saruth, the god, the voice spoke into her mind again, and he smiled over his shoulder at Lilah. Are you in need of a deity to worship? I am pleased to bless my human followers.
I... ah, I’m an atheist actually. What would a blessing from a dragon be?
>
Then you are in need of a deity. His smile broadened. We will discuss it later, yes? I am a most excellent god.
“Are you sure you’re all right?” Ridge asked quietly, coming up to Lilah’s side, the side opposite from Vann, as Sardelle and Bhrava Saruth continued to talk. “You look dazed.”
“Because that young man is trying to recruit me as a worshipper,” Lilah said, pointing.
“He does that to everyone. He doesn’t seem to mind if you say no, as long as you’re willing to rub his belly.” Ridge lowered his voice. “I’m sorry I sent you out here without more resources. I had no idea magic would be involved. I should have put more stock in Bosmont’s report of curses.”
“I wouldn’t have,” Lilah said.
Bosmont sniffed. “That’s disappointing. I thought civilians were more open-minded and less crusty than generals.”
“Crusty?” Ridge’s eyebrows rose.
“You’re not as crusty as most, sir, but you’re definitely not a colonel anymore,” Bosmont said glumly.
Ridge did not seem to know how to respond to that comment, so he turned back to Lilah.
“I’m relieved you don’t seem to be hurt,” he said, still sounding apologetic as he looked her over.
“Thank you, and there’s nothing to be sorry for,” Lilah said. “I’ve been honored to be a part of this exploration, to see things that haven’t been touched in centuries.”
She brushed her pocket, where the child’s ball made a bulge, and thought about giving it to Sardelle. She had planned to take her finds back to the outpost to examine, but she was starting to wonder if the army truly had the right to excavate this place. That might be an argument for the future.
“I hope Sardelle doesn’t mind our intrusion,” Lilah added quietly.
“I doubt she does,” Ridge said. “She has long wondered what truly happened to her people. Did you hear her story? Oh, I neglected introductions, didn’t I? Sardelle, are you done communing with your god?”
“We were discussing the feasibility of lodging ancient dragon fossils into solid rock and how it might have been done,” Sardelle said.