Watch out, Sardelle warned him, not certain he was aware of Therrik bearing down on him.
Bhrava Saruth sprang into the air, wings flapping, as Therrik swung the sword at his backside.
The smith shouted, “Get him, get him!” from the rooftop. Half of the villagers were running into the street with weapons, real and improvised, while the other half were sprinting out back doors and racing for the trees.
Sardelle did not know whether Therrik was acting of his own volition, because he thought the smith in danger, or if Kasandral had taken the moment to rear his obstinate head again. Either way, Sardelle could do nothing to stop Therrik as he leaped, trying to reach Bhrava Saruth with his sword.
Seeing the dragon distracted, the smith raced for the back of the roof. Bhrava Saruth roared in irritation, more at Therrik than at the smith, but the startled man glanced back just as he reached the edge. He stumbled and lost his footing. Instead of jumping or climbing down from the roof as he must have planned, he tumbled the two stories and landed hard. Judging by the way he hit, and the way he cried out, he had sprained his ankle if not broken a bone or two.
Jaxi, Sardelle growled in frustration, as if her soulblade could do something to rectify this situation.
I’m not his high priestess. He’s not going to listen to me.
He’s not listening to me either. Sardelle ran for the smith, who was writhing on the ground, grasping his lower leg. And as long as Therrik is holding Kasandral, I can’t do anything to him.
Neither can I.
I know. I’m just—this is ridiculous. We’re hurting people, however inadvertently, and this doesn’t get us any closer to Ridge.
I’m not hurting anyone.
With most of the villagers focused on the dragon and Therrik, Sardelle was able to approach the smith without anyone running over to intercept her. She wanted to stop Therrik and Bhrava Saruth from squabbling, mostly because she worried the dragon would grow weary of being swatted at and decide to drop a building on Therrik, but she also wanted to help the poor man. As if being manhandled by a dragon wasn’t bad enough, to tumble off a building wouldn’t leave him with fond memories of “witches.”
Bhrava Saruth, Sardelle tried one more time as she dropped down beside the smith. Can you fly out of the village, please? Therrik will calm down if you’re out of sight.
And will these people also allow you to heal that man if they’re not focused on me?
Possibly not. She wasn’t even sure if the smith would allow her to heal him. His eyes widened as soon as she touched his shoulder, and he realized she was there. He tried to jerk away.
“Witch!”
She remembered the soldier who’d shot himself, rather than accepting her treatment, and uncertainty made her freeze.
He’s not armed, Jaxi said. I’ll sit on him so he can’t object very strenuously.
Sardelle nodded. Yes. Thank you.
Jaxi sat on him by pushing on him with a blanket of air. Sardelle rested her hand on his ankle, identifying the problem as quickly as possible. A sprain and a fractured bone. She set about knitting the bone back together first, though the commotion from the other side of the building made it hard to focus.
“Don’t hurt me,” the smith whispered, his eyes creased with pain. “I didn’t mean—I was worried for—”
“Relax, my friend,” Sardelle said as she worked. “I’m a healer, not a witch. And you have the blood to become one, too, if you ever wish.”
Is this the time for recruiting? Jaxi asked. While I’m smooshing him with air?
There may not be time afterward. Sardelle smiled into the man’s eyes as she commanded his body to heal itself, lending her strength to accelerate the process.
“What’re you talking about?” he whispered, appearing more horrified than intrigued.
“You had a dragon for a very distant ancestor. It’s why you were able to sense that I also have power.”
“Also?” The man’s eyes rolled back in his head, and all of the tension drained from his body.
I’m sure his dragon ancestor would have been so impressed to see him faint.
More gunshots fired in the street. The thought of these people shooting at Bhrava Saruth saddened Sardelle, but she could understand why they had misconstrued his appearance as an attack.
“The witch is back here,” a boy yelled, peering around the corner of the building at her. As soon as he spoke, he darted out of sight.
Sardelle sighed, afraid she would have more company soon. She had nearly finished knitting the man’s bone back together, but would have preferred to do more, to leave him completely free of pain.
A shadow crossed over the sun. Bhrava Saruth alighted on the ground next to Sardelle and the smith.
I will finish healing him, Bhrava Saruth announced. I am very fast!
Gun-wielding villagers sprinted out from between the two buildings. They didn’t hesitate to shoot, and Sardelle sprang to her feet, creating a barrier around herself.
She needn’t have bothered because Bhrava Saruth had created a larger bubble around both of them, as well as the smith. The bullets bounced off, and when the men with axes tried to run close to hack at him, they were also repelled, striking the invisible shield and stumbling backward.
White light flashed, and a surge of power flowed into the smith. What it would have taken Sardelle another half hour to finish, Bhrava Saruth completed instantly. Not only did he leave the smith without any injuries, but the man almost glowed with vitality, much as when Phelistoth had healed the miners in the outpost. The smith’s eyes flew open.
Who else wishes to be healed and saved from disease by my power? Bhrava Saruth asked to the crowd.
Three people shot at him.
Therrik ran around the side of the building, that sword still in his hand.
Bhrava Saruth, Sardelle started to warn.
The dragon sighed into her mind and lowered to the ground like a dog coming to rest. Yes, I see him. Climb on my back. With him playing the role of scale rot on my hide, we’ll never convince these people to join us as followers.
Relieved the dragon saw the wisdom in leaving, Sardelle rushed to obey. It wasn’t until she had scrambled onto his back and Bhrava Saruth leaped into the air with her, leaving everyone gaping and gasping, that she realized how it might look to them. Would they think she had commanded him to appear? To grab the blacksmith?
As Bhrava Saruth sped into the air, Sardelle pressed her face against his cool scales, lamenting that all the work she had done to help the king and his soldiers might be forgotten if rumors of her as some madwoman commanding dragons to attack escaped the mountains.
I don’t think Angulus will put any credence into that, Jaxi said. We simply won’t be invited back here again. You’ll have to look elsewhere for followers for Bhrava Saruth.
Assuming Angulus survives the week, Sardelle thought grimly, their guesses about Eversong’s intentions returning to mind.
I’m sure we still have time to catch them.
Sardelle was less sure. If Ridge had found access to a flier, he might already be back in the capital.
Bhrava Saruth did not go far before gliding back down to the ground. He stopped a half mile farther up the road from the village. In order to let Therrik catch up with them? Sardelle was surprised he would bother after being the recipient of Kasandral’s attack. For the second time, Therrik had been ready to kill him.
Sardelle wasn’t certain they should wait for the colonel, now that she knew where Ridge was and what was at stake. Still, she took the moment to slide down from Bhrava Saruth’s back. Abandoning Therrik out here seemed poor thanks for the help he had given, however grudgingly, in locating this village. If they hadn’t been able to track him here, she wouldn’t now know where Ridge had gone.
Can you tell Therrik that we’re waiting for him, Jaxi? Sardelle’s range didn’t reach back to the village.
Assuming his pointy friend lets my message through, I can.
Bhrava Saruth’s long neck snaked around, his head coming down level with Sardelle’s. As alien as his eyes were, she found she could still get a sense of his emotions in them. Or maybe it was the uncharacteristic slump to his spine.
They fear us so much that they won’t let themselves understand, he said, sorrow weighing down his words. We could have helped. There were some who were sick and infirm in that village. I could have healed them, as I did the smith.
The world has changed since you last flew over this land, Sardelle explained, having no trouble understanding his sorrow and frustration, since she felt it herself every time someone shunned her or let fear keep them from accepting her help. It’s not truly my world, either, and I’m not certain how we can change everybody’s opinions of you. Of us.
No? His head tilted as he considered her.
He must never have dug into her thoughts and gotten her story from her. As nosy as he was, he didn’t seem to be as quick to intrude into human minds as Morishtomaric and Phelistoth had been. Since they had a few minutes to wait, she closed her eyes and shared some of her memories with him. She carefully selected what she wanted to share, and it wasn’t as intimate as the times she had exchanged memories with Ridge, but she sensed that Bhrava Saruth understood and even empathized. After her dealings with the other dragons, she wouldn’t have guessed their kind had the ability to see a human as a being worth empathizing with.
This time is strange, he told her. In my era, everyone knew to fear dragons, but humans also knew that dragons could be benevolent gods. Allies, even. I do not understand why they would greet us with those noisy fire-making sticks when it is clear we are not harming them.
Sardelle wasn’t sure that had been clear to the smith when Bhrava Saruth had hoisted him up by the scruff of the neck, but she kept the thought to herself.
It is lonely in this era, high priestess. Bhrava Saruth settled his entire body to the ground, as if to lie down for a nap. His tail curled around his torso, but his eyes remained open, regarding her. Forlorn. When had she started to see such emotion in his face?
When he’s lying in that position, his fangs aren’t hanging out, Jaxi observed. That helps.
I agree, Sardelle told the dragon. It’s a lonely era for those with magic. All we can try to do is change people’s perceptions of us, one human at a time. There are some who are willing to accept us. She withdrew Ridge’s dragon figurine and stroked the time-worn wood.
I used to have five thousand followers, Bhrava Saruth said.
Dragons are long-lived. You could gather that many friends again, in time.
Hmmph.
Why do you call them friends? Jaxi asked. He wants legions of people to worship him. He’s not looking for someone to play brisk-ball with.
What he says he wants and what he actually wants may not be exactly the same thing. Sardelle smiled, walked forward, and rested her hand on Bhrava Saruth’s head. As he admitted, he’s lonely. That’s understandable.
You have me to keep you company. You shouldn’t be lonely.
Of course not. Sardelle’s smile grew a touch wistful. But he doesn’t even have a soulblade.
That is a tragedy. Therrik is coming.
He’s not leading an army full of villagers with pitchforks, is he? Sardelle reached down the road with her senses.
He’s alone. And you weren’t being observant if you didn’t see that these villagers prefer rifles and axes to pitchforks.
It amounts to the same.
Bhrava Saruth rose to his feet. I will take you to find your mate, but I am disinterested in carrying your servant farther.
My, ah, servant wants to kill the sorceress who has been troubling us.
He wants to kill everyone.
If he kills the sorceress, and if we help, the king would be quite pleased. He might be willing to issue a mandate that the great gold dragon Bhrava Saruth isn’t to be greeted with rifles.
We’re back to flattery, are we? Jaxi asked.
It’s called persuasion.
Persuasion through flattery?
The great gold god Bhrava Saruth, the dragon corrected. He shook dew droplets from his belly and wings, flexed his powerful legs, and turned toward the road. Therrik strode around a bend and into sight.
Did that correction mean he’s agreeing to give Therrik a ride or not? Jaxi asked.
I’m not sure. Perhaps we can levitate him along behind the dragon.
He’ll love that.
Sardelle expected a fierce scowl from Therrik as he approached, especially for the great gold god standing at the side of the road, but all he did was shoot them an exasperated expression.
“Zirkander must love trying to take you out to dinner,” he added, then pointed up the road. “The next town is that way.”
“We’re flying, not walking, and Ridge and I have gone out to dinner several times without trouble.”
Therrik’s mouth curved into a scowl at the word flying. “Was that before or after your familiar came into your life?”
Sardelle sighed and looked toward Bhrava Saruth. She wouldn’t blame him if he refused to carry Therrik.
A lonely era, the dragon said into her mind, matching her sigh. He lowered his body to the ground again. Get on.
Both of us?
Both. But if your servant touches the hilt of that demon sword, I’ll arrange for him to fall off. Rapidly.
Therrik’s scowl darkened. “Did that dragon just call me your servant?”
“You called him my familiar. I think you’re even.”
Therrik looked like a cow chewing cud as he mulled on this. Finally, he strode toward Bhrava Saruth, his hands well away from Kasandral’s hilt.
As with the previous time they had flown, Sardelle let him go up first, and she took the position behind him. She couldn’t imagine having him and Kasandral at her back for the duration of the journey. She was impressed that Bhrava Saruth was willing to allow it.
The sword would not be able to keep him from falling, Bhrava Saruth thought. He sounded like he wouldn’t mind at all if Therrik gave him a reason to let him tumble a few thousand feet.
As they took off, Therrik’s fingers digging into the dragon’s scales, his shoulders bunched to his ears, Therrik gave her a long look over his shoulder. Sardelle waited, expecting him to say something, but he shook his head and looked forward again.
Jaxi snorted into her mind. He was thinking of asking if you could make his stomach less queasy when he flies.
Ah. Tolemek might be the better person to ask for that. If nothing else, he could formulate a knockout potion that would keep him from experiencing the trip.
He’s also having what I would almost consider a feeling of sympathy.
Toward Bhrava Saruth?
Toward you. He got cheered by the villagers for driving the dragon away. He thinks that’s idiotic, since he didn’t do anything and since the dragon wasn’t really doing anything either. He also had the thought that it was idiotic that they picked on you.
Is it really sympathy when he’s thinking people are idiots? Sardelle asked.
It’s Therrik. You better take what you can get.
Sardelle would, but she found Bhrava Saruth’s words echoing in her mind, that this was a lonely era for those who didn’t fit in. Maybe it always had been.
Chapter 13
Tolemek rolled his knockout grenade across the lumpy ground toward the hot air balloon. Four soldiers stood around the basket, which was tied to a stump, ready to lift off at any time. With the men staring toward the dark sky over the harbor instead of watching their surroundings, Tolemek and Kaika might have walked up and clobbered them over the head with their rifles. Instead, they crouched in the shadows, waiting for the grenade to do its work.
A sea breeze gusted, batting at the balloon, and Tolemek worried the knockout gas might dissipate before it affected the soldiers. When one slumped against the basket, his firearm clunking to the ground, he exhaled with relief.
“Corporal?” anoth
er asked, stepping toward the man losing consciousness.
“Sarge? I feel—” The man collapsed.
The sergeant took three steps, then joined his comrade on the ground. The remaining two men must not have inhaled as much of the gas. They spun toward the trees, their rifles coming up.
Tolemek dropped to his belly. He held his pistol, but he didn’t want to fire and alert all the soldiers on the ships of his presence. He glanced toward where Kaika had crouched beside him, but she had disappeared. Circling the soldiers to attack from behind, he hoped.
A dragon roared again, this time from farther inland than before. Tolemek guessed Phelistoth was leading the female dragon away from the harbor. To what end, he didn’t know, but those roars were distracting the soldiers, and that was a good thing for his tiny team of two.
One of the men stiffened, then collapsed. This time, it had nothing to do with the gas. The last soldier standing whirled toward his fallen comrade’s back, and Tolemek leaped to his feet. He ran toward the man, intending to help Kaika, but the Cofah was knocked to the ground with the others before he got there.
“Your basket awaits, Prisoner Tolemek.” Kaika gestured grandly at the hot air balloon.
“Should I feel emasculated by the fact that you’re doing all of the grunt work?”
“Probably, but I won’t tell anyone if you use your magic scientist skills to make me some special grenades someday.”
“Anything in particular you’re looking for?”
“I’ve been wondering for a long time if underwater explosives could be made.” She gazed thoughtfully toward the ships floating in the bay. Imagining them going up in blazing infernos? “But any improvements to the weapons that mundane technology can currently put into my arsenal would be excellent. I’d settle for bigger booms.”
He snorted. “I’ll see what I can come up with if we make it home.”
“Did you just call Iskandia home?” She thumped him on the shoulder.
“I—uh.” Had he called it home? When had he started to think of Iskandia that way? When Cas had started talking about house hunting? “I like the lab the king gave me.”
“That’s good to hear.”