“And I shall warn you about it again.” Phelistoth turned to face downriver, his eyes lifting toward the sky. “It appears they, too, heard your noisy battle and are coming to investigate.”
“Dragon spit,” Kaika said, “I might as well have thrown some explosives.”
“It’s coming inland?” Blazer asked. “We need to camo these fliers quick. Raptor, Duck, Pimples, get your nets out.”
Cas hustled to obey. “How long do we have?” she asked over her shoulder.
“The bloated craft is slow, but already it turns up the river,” Phelistoth said.
Kaika cursed and glared down at their captives. “You couldn’t have hunted your crocs ten miles that way?” She flung her hand toward the swampy depths, shadows growing deep between the trees as twilight deepened.
One of the men sneered at her, but nobody spoke. Quataldo merely continued to tie the prisoners.
“Is there any way to tell if it’s a merchant airship?” Cas dug into the small storage compartment behind the second seat of her flier, tugging out the bundle of netting designed to make what it covered look like a mound of earth. She did not know how effective the brown and green colors would be when draped over mud in a swamp, but there wasn’t time to move the fliers, nor was there anywhere to move them to—the trees around the inlet were too densely packed.
“I do not know the difference between your merchant ships and other ships.” Phelistoth curled his lip, letting them know that he didn’t care about the difference. Of course not. A ship full of humans wouldn’t have the means to hurt him.
“It’s an imperial warship,” Tylie said.
“What?” several voices asked at once.
She was still kneeling beside her patient, a hand on the man’s chest, but she gazed at the sky, her eyes glassy. “Many cannons, many men, and...” She looked toward Phelistoth.
“A sorcerer,” he said. “Yes. A weak one.”
Cas did not stop tugging the netting over her flier, but she groaned. Without Sardelle here and with Phelistoth an unreliable ally, what would they do against magic users?
“You think all of the sorcerers in this time are weak,” Tylie chided.
She didn’t sound nearly as worried as Cas felt. She couldn’t shoot a sorcerer. All the ones she had encountered had the ability to shield themselves from bullets.
“They are,” Phelistoth said.
“Not so weak that they won’t sense us.”
“That is true. My presence may be drawing this one.”
“Wonderful.” Quataldo frowned at the half-covered fliers. “We may have to abort. We can’t take down an airship on our own.”
“Aw, sir, where’s your sense of arrogance?” Kaika asked. “I brought plenty of explosives.”
“What are they doing down here? You’re sure it’s an imperial ship?”
Tylie nodded.
“They may be part of an advance party,” Tolemek said, “to ensure it’s safe for the emperor to come down.”
“I can leave,” Phelistoth said. “Then my aura will not be a problem. Tylie can hide the rest of you.”
Cas jumped down from her flier. “Hide? How?” She draped a corner of the camo netting artistically across the stump.
“I can’t hide us from their eyes,” Tylie said, “but when Morishtomaric was looking for us, I learned how to hide our auras, to make him believe we were dead. I believe it could fool a sorcerer.”
Quataldo nodded. “Good. Do that now. Everyone under the camo or into the trees.” He glanced up. “The branches and leaves should cover these men from the sky, as long as they don’t make noise.” He glowered at the ones who were awake. “I’ll fashion gags. Everyone else, hide any sign that we were here.”
Cas finished arranging the netting, staked a couple of corners into the mud, then crawled underneath it. She wanted to be able to look up through the holes and watch the airship, see if it truly was a Cofah craft.
Phelistoth walked into the woods, soon disappearing from sight. The rest of the team hid near the tree trunks, where the thick foliage would hide them from above. Tolemek squirmed under the netting and crouched beside Cas.
“I had a feeling when your king gave us this mission that it wouldn’t be as easy as he thought,” he murmured.
“I don’t know that he thought it would be easy. Maybe he just considered us expendable.” Cas bumped her shoulder against his.
“Speak for yourself. His army has ordered five hundred jars of my healing salve, and I haven’t been able to fill that order yet. I’m not expendable.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” Though she kept her rifle in one hand, she clasped his closest hand with her other.
“I hope this display of affection doesn’t mean you’re sure we’re in a dire situation and about to die,” he murmured, squeezing her hand back.
“No, it means I’m having a hard time keeping my balance with three inches of mud sucking at my boots, and I need you for support.”
He snorted. “Always glad to be support.”
“I know.” Cas thought about leaning over to kiss him on the cheek, but a strange sensation came over her. She froze, trying to examine it. Some probe from the enemy sorcerer? No, it felt less inimical than that.
“That’s Tylie,” Tolemek murmured. “I don’t know how she’s doing it, but I can feel her... laying a blanket on us. Magical camo netting.”
Cas started to reply, but shut her mouth when the bow of an airship came into view high above. Her stomach sank down to rest between her boots as she recognized the green and gray Cofah colors. From directly beneath it, she couldn’t see weaponry or soldiers stalking the deck, but she knew they were there. Was this a single craft, scouting ahead and reporting to the emperor as Tolemek suspected? Or was it one of many? What if Salatak had sent a whole fleet ahead? If the sorcerer up there had sensed Phelistoth, would the wedding or at least the emperor’s attendance of the wedding be called off?
“Tylie says she thinks it’s a shaman, not a sorcerer,” Tolemek whispered.
“What’s the difference?” Cas averted her eyes as the rest of the airship hull came into view, lumbering over their muddy inlet. She worried that the craft wasn’t high enough for the lookouts to be fooled by the camo.
“I’m not sure, except that sorcerers come out of Cofahre and Iskandia and have—had—a formal school with a lot of written tests and study. The magic users from this continent have an oral tradition and some different ways. She says we’ll also need to look out for animal familiars.”
Cas remembered General Zirkander telling the story of battling a shaman and a giant owl familiar and how the outpost had needed Sardelle’s help to defeat them. Once again, Cas wished Sardelle had come with them. Tylie might be a better resource than Cas had expected, but she wouldn’t be as experienced.
“Maybe that’s what Phelistoth hunted down for dinner,” Cas murmured.
“That would be nice.”
The airship disappeared from sight as it continued upriver. Cas hoped their subterfuge had worked, but even if it had, would it be enough? Her gaze settled on their prisoners, prisoners they couldn’t take along but that they couldn’t let go, not without further risk of being discovered.
Chapter 4
Flying on a dragon’s back was exhilarating—and terrifying. Sardelle did not feel the wind like she expected, not the way she did when she cruised in Ridge’s flier. A comforting cloak of magic wrapped around her, keeping her astride Bhrava Saruth, not dissimilarly to the harness in Ridge’s back seat. Except that the “harness” was made of strands of invisible power. She was glad Bhrava Saruth cared enough to put out the effort, because they were zipping along more quickly than a flier, the land below passing by in a blur. The jagged peaks of the Ice Blades grew larger with each passing moment, the dawn sky lightening from pink to blue behind them.
We will arrive soon, high priestess.
Excellent. Thank you. You can call me Sardelle, if you wish. She certainly wished he would, bu
t she didn’t want to complain when he was doing this favor for her. She wondered what she could do to pay him back.
Perhaps you can find him a worshipful ingénue or two in the villages down there, Jaxi suggested.
Maybe I can get him some of that cheese that Phelistoth likes.
They passed a flock of ducks, startling the poor creatures into diving for the nearest lake. Despite the magical harness, Sardelle held on tightly as Bhrava Saruth’s back tilted and they climbed toward the tops of the mountains. She closed her eyes and rested her face against his cool scales. Tylie had taken to this right away, but Sardelle found it more alarming than riding in Ridge’s flier, perhaps because she didn’t know if Bhrava Saruth was exactly what he appeared or if he had hidden—and possibly dangerous—depths.
Speaking of dangerous depths, you better make sure the king’s orders don’t fly out of your pack, Jaxi said. Therrik may greet you with Kasandral in hand, especially if you come in on dragonback.
They’re securely fastened. She did intend to have the king’s orders in hand as soon as they landed. Just because Therrik had called her an asset in that report did not mean he would be eager to help her.
As they passed the first peaks and headed closer to the spine of the Blades, Sardelle opened her eyes and leaned her head to the side of Bhrava Saruth’s neck so she could watch the glaciers and valleys passing below. They weren’t to the crash site yet, but if Ridge had walked away and hadn’t been able to climb back up to the outpost, he might be searching for a route that would take him out of the mountains. Flying made the peaks seem less daunting, but she remembered from her childhood just how long it took to traverse the Ice Blades and that climbing gear was required in many places.
There are people here and there, Bhrava Saruth informed her, but I do not believe they are the one you seek.
She did not know if he could recognize Ridge’s aura through her thoughts, but she said, Thank you for looking. She would keep searching herself.
I’m looking too, Jaxi said. I hope I’ll be wrong and that he’s alive.
Thank you.
Bhrava Saruth took them over the crash site, the rocky slope still in shadow as the sun rose behind Goat Mountain. She spotted the remains of the flier once again. Nothing had changed, not that she had expected it to. Ridge wouldn’t have been able to climb back up to it if he had fallen out and into the river below. That river was even farther below than she remembered, and the pit of her stomach grew heavy. Maybe she was being delusional about all this. Maybe there was no way he could have survived.
Do you wish to search further now, high priestess? Or collect your servant in the human fort first?
My, ah, servant? Sardelle was quite positive she hadn’t explained Therrik that way.
He will serve you in this matter, yes? My priestess should have as many servants as she needs.
Just don’t call him that. Sardelle pointed to the slope. Do you think it’s possible to find a spot to land down there? By the wreckage?
They had not been able to do that in the fliers. Even the two-seat models with the thrusters required a flat surface for landing.
Yes, of course. Bhrava Saruth tilted his wings and they swooped low.
Even though he had talons and could grasp onto a perch like a bird, she wondered at finding a landing spot down there. It was so steep. If the body of the flier hadn’t come to a stop behind a boulder embedded in the earth, it would have fallen all the way down into the canyon below.
Bhrava Saruth slowed himself as he neared the ground by tilting his body upward. His talons came out, and he alighted on the boulder right next to what remained of the battered flier. The big rock shifted, and pebbles bounced down the slope, skipped over the edge, and disappeared into the canyon. Sardelle tightened her grip on Bhrava Saruth’s smooth scales as the boulder shifted more, a soft scraping sound coming from below. He adjusted his weight, and it grew still. She told herself that he would simply leap up and flap his wings if it gave away, but she couldn’t help but feel as if her life teetered on the edge. From above, she hadn’t realized just how steep this slope was. She couldn’t imagine that Ridge could have walked away without falling.
Regardless, she looked to either side of the crumpled flier, seeking footprints or skid marks that might indicate someone had disturbed the rocks. From her position near Bhrava Saruth’s shoulders, it was hard to read signs on the ground.
Bhrava Saruth bent his head, his long neck allowing him to lower his snout to the earth. He sniffed at the cockpit of the flier, then sniffed at the ground all around it.
Did he say he was a god or a dog? Jaxi asked.
Hush. Sardelle did not want to insult him, especially not when he was helping her.
I just thought he might be confused. If it helps, I don’t sense Ridge nearby. But as before, my senses are muddled by his divine presence.
Sardelle did not sense much, either, beyond marmots hiding in the rocks.
I detect a faint scent from the cockpit, Bhrava Saruth announced, but rain has come and washed away most of the signs.
Sardelle eyed the lifeless power crystal and wondered if that had been the reason Ridge crashed. Had the dragon destroyed it while he was in the air? She looked to the side, spotting the tip of the ammo belt that fed bullets into the machine gun. She thought some of Tolemek’s special ammunition might remain, the bullets with his acid in the tips, acid capable of doing damage to dragon scales.
She couldn’t get down and fiddle around in the cockpit by hand, but she unfastened the belt with her mind and floated the remaining ammo up to her hand. There weren’t more than thirty or forty bullets left, but maybe they would make a difference in the future, or maybe Tolemek could use them as a model to craft more. She carefully tucked them into her pack.
Can you take me over to the edge of the rockslide area? Where it levels out a bit? Sardelle doubted anyone could have walked across the slope and reached the less treacherous ground, but Bhrava Saruth flew her to the area. She slid off and walked around, studying the stark ground as if she knew what she was doing or might find a clue so obvious that even a tracking neophyte might recognize it.
Perhaps this would be the time to get Therrik, Jaxi said.
Sardelle sighed and looked toward the canyon, where she could hear the river flowing past far below. You’re right. At the least, we’d have more eyes on the ground.
She would have preferred not to need him, but with the king’s orders, Therrik shouldn’t object too much. She directed Bhrava Saruth to take them back into the air, feeling quite presumptuous every time she made a request. She rarely asked people for favors. To ask a dragon to cart her around felt strange indeed.
How are we going to keep the miners from shooting at him—and us? Jaxi asked as they sailed around Goat Mountain and the outpost came into view.
A valid concern. Sardelle knew the cannons and rocket launchers poised on the walls wouldn’t get past Bhrava Saruth’s defenses, but he might not feel welcome if he was greeted with a barrage of weapons fire.
A distant wailing reached her ears, the alarm being sounded in the valley. She stretched out with her mind, searching for the one person down there who could stop the alarm and the attack that had to be imminent. So what if he happened to be the one person who would least appreciate a sorceress speaking telepathically to him?
Maybe it would be better to land shielded and use your lips with him, Jaxi suggested.
I’m not sure he wants anything to do with my lips either. Sardelle found Therrik’s aura among the soldiers on the wall just before he came into sight. Bhrava Saruth had slowed down and was coasting in.
She reached out to the man, sensing his grumpy disposition even before she fully touched his mind. He was so different from Ridge. She braced herself for the discomfort before she sent her words to him. Colonel Therrik? It’s Sardelle. I have orders for you from the king. This is the dragon that helped us defeat Morishtomaric. He and I would appreciate it if you commanded your m
en not to fire.
A long pause came, followed by a single word. Shit.
I don’t think he’s changed as much as the king thinks he has, Jaxi said.
Bhrava Saruth, not appearing concerned by the weapons on the towers or the soldiers on the wall, banked and descended, heading for the rooftop in the courtyard that the fliers used for landing. Out of habit, Sardelle prepared her own defenses, even though the dragon’s would likely protect her. Bellowing came from the parapet. Judging by the gruffness, it originated with Therrik.
She wasn’t sure whether he was yelling for his men to fire or not to fire. Bhrava Saruth flexed his wings and floated down to the rooftop. A lot of tense faces followed his flight, but nobody fired. Sardelle let out a slow breath.
Good morning, humans, Bhrava Saruth announced cheerfully. It took Sardelle a moment to realize he wasn’t just addressing her. Was he speaking to the entire outpost? If you are in need of healing or blessings, please come to me. There is no need to be alarmed by the god, Bhrava Saruth, but if you are uncomfortable speaking to me, you may address my high priestess, and she will direct you on my behalf.
Sardelle felt her mouth dangling open, but she couldn’t quite manage to close it. She wasn’t sure whether the humans to which he spoke would charge up to see him or would run for the tram cars in the hope of cowering down in the mines.
The first person to appear, climbing the stairs to the roof, was Therrik. Sardelle slid off the dragon’s back, her hand already dipping into her satchel so she could retrieve the envelope that held his orders.
“What in all the levels of hell is going on here?” he demanded.
She noted with great relief that he wasn’t striding around with Kasandral. “I need the help of a tracker, and King Angulus recommended you.” She pulled out the envelope and held it toward him.
He had come up the stairs to greet Sardelle—and the dragon—by himself, with nothing but a rifle in hand, but he seemed reluctant to approach. His jaw worked back and forth as he glanced toward the courtyard, then toward the envelope, and finally toward Bhrava Saruth, whose wings, when spread, extended farther than the sides of the building under them.