Trip eyed the dragon from head to taloned toes, having a hard time imagining anyone ever applying those adjectives to her.
Climb on. I can carry everyone and everything back. I am barely tired after battling that weakened bronze. He was half-dead already. Shulina Arya turned her large violet eyes on Trip, and he felt the draw of her power even more, for a moment believing he would do whatever she wished if she but asked. But he imagined himself securing his bank vault around his mind so he wouldn’t be affected, and the pull lessened. Your sire was a gold, yes? He must have been very strong. I did not believe humans could battle dragons at all.
He was a gold. And… Trip thought of the cult, of all he’d seen, of all his sire had apparently reveled in. A complete ass.
Shulina Arya pulled her lips back, revealing more of her fangs. Had he offended her? He forced his feet to stay where they were, though the temptation to skitter back came over him.
Many dragons are megalomaniacal, Shulina Arya said. That is why I was so excited to meet humans. They are much more fun to play with. Come now, yes. You will all ride?
Rysha scrambled up her side first, as easily as if there were stairs leading up the dragon’s back. “We will come. Thank you, Shulina Arya.”
“I think Major Kaika has to stop fondling her neck first,” Trip said, following Rysha up.
Kaika, who’d seemed half-mesmerized by the stroking, yanked her hand down and scowled at them. “I was just checking the structural integrity of our ride. Three people and all our gear on one dragon seems excessive.”
“Trust in the magic,” Rysha said.
Trip settled behind her on the dragon as Kaika climbed up. He looked to their packs and the stasis chambers, thinking to lift them himself, even though his headache wanted nothing more to do with magic. But Shulina Arya beat him to it. All the gear rose from the beach and floated in the air above the base of her tail.
Ready? Shulina Arya asked.
“Ready,” all three of them said, Kaika settling behind Trip.
The dragon sprang into the air and flapped out to the ocean, the city and the harbor falling away quickly behind it. Trip was glad to leave Lagresh and Rakgorath. It seemed they had been there for months instead of a couple of weeks.
He touched the cargo pocket where he’d buttoned in the magical assassin’s dagger, reminded that he hadn’t completed the mission he’d given himself. Not yet. He hoped General Zirkander and the king would agree that the blade should go back to Cofahre. No matter what his nickname was, he was tired of going off on his own and disobeying orders. He was ready to return to his flier and rejoin Wolf Squadron, perhaps one day becoming the hero to the people of Iskandia that he’d always longed to be. He was less ready to oversee the second births of all the babies floating behind them, but that seemed inevitable now. He would do his best to make sure they had a promising future and someone to care for them.
Kaika slapped Trip on the shoulder. “Is this even better than you imagined? Being sandwiched between two beautiful warrior women?”
“Two beautiful women who are soaking wet and draped in seaweed?” Trip asked.
“Every man’s fantasy, I assure you.”
Trip gave her a salute, but rested his hands on Rysha’s waist. There was only one woman in his fantasies.
Epilogue
Rysha woke to someone shaking her shoulder gently.
“Trip?” she mumbled, blinking her eyes open. The last time she’d been awake, it had been dark, with Shulina Arya flying them across the ocean. Dawn had come, but clouds surrounded them, and she couldn’t tell if they were over water or land.
“Yes.” The shoulder shake turned into a light squeeze. “Your dragon just flew by the hangars.”
His tone had a dryness to it, but it took her a moment to realize why.
“You thought we should land there and report in?” Rysha asked.
“There or in the citadel. I bet General Zirkander is already at work. I sense a couple of other dragons at the edge of my range, not Bhrava Saruth or any of the friendly ones.”
Shulina Arya must have been descending because they dropped out of the clouds, and Rysha could see the sea, the harbor, and the capital sprawling up and down the coast below. Though she’d flown over the area with Wolf Squadron a couple of times now, she still found it breathtaking to see the city from above.
“Would you like to suggest to your dragon that either of those places would be excellent stopping points?” Trip looked over his shoulder, either at Kaika sleeping against his back and drooling on his jacket, or at the stasis chambers, still floating along over Shulina Arya’s tail.
He sounded tired. Had he dozed at all during their long flight? Or had he been trying to figure out how to repair the ancient devices?
Rysha couldn’t imagine repairing anything while riding a dragon across an ocean. “She’s not my dragon, Trip. You’re telepathic. Did you ask her to take us to the army fort?”
“You tell her stories. She likes you.” He squeezed her shoulder again, then lowered his hand. Rysha wouldn’t have minded if he had left it there. “I did actually suggest to her that we should report in, but her response was very muzzy.”
“Muzzy?” Rysha had never encountered a muzzy dragon.
“Maybe sleepy is the correct word. She mumbled something about tarts, and I got a sense that she’s barely staying awake. I’m back here, rubbing the soulblades and staying prepared in case her magic falters and we need to save ourselves from falling out of the sky.”
“Rubbing the soulblades? Do they like it?”
“Jaxi seems to. I’m less certain about Azarwrath. Perhaps you could rub him, and he’d feel content.”
Rysha rubbed her face instead. “If Shulina Arya is tired—and I can imagine why after flying us so far—and wants tarts, then we both know where she’s going.”
Rysha couldn’t blame the dragon for being tired. They must have flown for twelve hours or more, and Rysha hadn’t been able to tell stories all night. She had dozed off after four straight hours of sharing the origins of the Cofah empire, along with Iskandian hypotheses as to why so many of their emperors had acted crazily throughout history—lead-poisoning due to their aqueduct construction practices was among the most recent ideas put forward.
“General Zirkander’s house?” Trip asked.
“Sardelle’s kitchen, more specifically.”
“The general may have already gone to work. We won’t be able to report in from the kitchen.”
“No? Aren’t the two soulblades you’re rubbing telepathic? And, for that matter, aren’t you telepathic?”
“Well, yes, but… I don’t think that’s an acceptable way to report in after a mission. You’re supposed to go in to your superior officer’s office, click your heels together in front of his desk, and salute.”
“Maybe you can click your heels together in front of the oven and send a mental image of your salute.”
“Is that how they do it in the elite troops?”
“They would if they had telepathic swords.”
As Shulina Arya swooped low and flew over the city walls and into the less densely populated suburban area outside, Rysha grew more certain of their destination. She leaned forward and patted the dragon’s neck, silently letting her know that she thought this was a perfectly fine place to land. If they had to, she, Trip, and Kaika could walk or borrow a horse to ride to the fort. But shouldn’t they see Sardelle first, regardless?
“Can you tell if Sardelle is at their house?” Rysha glanced past Trip to the stasis chambers. “She’ll be the most likely one to help with our problem.”
“I know. I’m just worried we’ll get in trouble if we don’t report in right away.”
“Trip, you were willing to go AWOL in order to solve the Dreyak mystery. Don’t you think it’s hypocritical for you to worry about being slapped on the wrist for not reporting in promptly now?”
“No.”
She turned, arching her eyebrows.
&
nbsp; “I mean, if we were AWOL, I would, but technically, we came back as soon as we could. With your dragon’s help, we’re getting back even earlier than we would have if we’d ridden on the steamer. And Blazer ordered us to the city to catch transportation, so I am not AWOL, nor was I. I was simply doing research during the time we had to wait for transportation.”
“Are you going to become a barracks lawyer, Trip?”
“Not unless it pays well.” He grimaced. “I’ve been thinking about what’s going to happen when these babies come out of their chambers, especially now that it looks like they’ll all come out at once. Sane people don’t raise eight children at a time. I’m sure it makes you crazy, not to mention that it has to be expensive. Rysha, captains don’t make that much.” His expression grew even more glum. Or maybe that was daunted.
Rysha imagined that he’d spent the night trying to figure out what he was going to do.
Better than poking into her mind. She didn’t want him to find out that she’d been manhandled by that scheming bronze dragon. Forced to kiss him. The whole scenario felt like a failure on her part, and she vowed to keep it to herself.
“I’m sure you could use your burgeoning magical powers to earn some extra income,” she said. “I can say from personal experience that your healing skills are already quite effective. There must be people all over the capital in need of healing.”
“It seems uncharitable to charge sick people to heal them.”
“Then don’t charge the truly sick people. But you could charge to fix people’s minor inconveniences. Like warts, bunions, and toenail fungus. Two nucros per wart.”
Trip appeared more horrified than enlightened by this entrepreneurial suggestion.
“I’m positive there’s a need,” Rysha said. “Not everybody is going to ride all the way out to Bhrava Saruth’s temple for healing, and it sounds like he’s an infrequent presence in the city. Besides, do you think a dragon who thinks he’s a god would heal toenail fungus?”
“I… really have no idea.”
“It’s an untapped market, Trip. I assure you.”
The familiar street that Zirkander and Sardelle lived on came into view, the pond at the end and the tall trees behind their two-story cottage unchanged from the last time Rysha had been there. She hadn’t truly expected anything to have changed—it had been less than three weeks since they left, even though it seemed like it had been months—but she had worried that dragons might have attacked the capital during their absence. She was relieved that the only smoke wafting from the city came from people’s chimneys.
Shulina Arya alighted not in the yard but on the peak of the roof. Behind Trip, Kaika stirred, looking around in bleary confusion. The house and yard appeared much different from this viewpoint.
The dragon’s head fell backward, almost clunking Rysha, and Shulina Arya yawned noisily. Birds in the nearby trees squawked alarmed protests.
“I didn’t know dragons yawned,” Kaika observed.
“I didn’t know majors drooled.” Trip wiped at a moist spot on his shoulder.
“This mission has been quite the learning experience, hasn’t it?” Rysha asked. “Shulina Arya? Uhm, can you help us down?” She could slide off easily enough and skim down a drainpipe, but getting Trip’s cargo safely down would be more of a challenge. Though she supposed he could handle that with his magic.
She’d no sooner had the thought than the stasis chambers floated slowly down to the yard to land in the trimmed green grass. Rysha wondered if Sardelle was awake yet, or if she would be startled out of sleep by a surprise dragon arrival. Surely, Jaxi would have let her know they were coming.
Shulina Arya didn’t answer Rysha. Her long neck bent so that her head pointed toward one of the ground-level windows. That was the living room, wasn’t it? If the door to the kitchen was open, she might see through to it, but Rysha had a hard time imagining baking going on this early in the morning.
Tarts? Shulina Arya asked.
Maybe she’ll have some leftovers, Rysha thought.
Trip slid off the dragon’s back, then hopped over the edge of the roof. He landed in an easy crouch next to the stasis chambers, his touchdown no doubt softened by magic.
A baby cried inside the cottage. Well, if Sardelle hadn’t been awake before, she was now.
Rysha and Kaika tossed their weapons and gear down, then Rysha slung her leg over Shulina Arya’s back to slide off, but magical energy lifted her into the air before her boots touched the slanted roof. Kaika blurted a startled oath as she was also lifted. They sailed off the roof and descended to the yard as the front door opened.
Sardelle stepped out, rocking her baby in her arms as her toddler trailed her out and stood behind her skirt to peer into the yard.
From the threshold, Sardelle looked at the dragon still gazing in her window. Shulina Arya rotated her upside-down head toward her, violet eyes large and sleepy.
Tarts?
Even though the question came out as hopeful, or maybe imploring, that typical dragon compulsion accompanied it, and Rysha couldn’t imagine anyone saying no.
“Hm,” Sardelle said, then looked toward Trip, Kaika, and Rysha. Maybe she had the wherewithal to ignore a dragon.
Rysha wished she had tarts or something sweet to give to Shulina Arya after the favor she’d done them all.
“Ridge has already left for the fort,” Sardelle told them, “though I see why you came.” Her gaze shifted toward the stasis chambers. “Blazer reported that these would be coming, and Jaxi woke me when you were about fifty miles away. Ah, a couple of the units appear to have failed.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Trip said. “I was able to weave some wiring back together and fix a couple of breaches in others, but the power sources are beyond me. They’re not like anything electrical or mechanical. But I believe the… offspring are all still alive and haven’t yet come out of the hibernation, even in the broken ones. I’m not sure how much time there is.”
As Sardelle nodded and came forward, a tray floated out the front door. It turned toward Shulina Arya’s lowered head, then settled on the grass below.
“I keep waiting for things like that to stop seeming weird,” Kaika whispered, standing beside Rysha.
“Is a tray full of floating pastries any weirder than a dragon flying you across the ocean?”
“I believe so, yes. The legends all mention people riding dragons. They don’t mention floating pastry trays.”
“The historians back then weren’t nearly thorough enough for my liking.”
Tarts!
Sardelle looked at Shulina Arya. “Yes, mango and strawberry. I’m trying to keep some on hand for when we have house guests.”
Shulina Arya’s long and large tongue slipped out, proving surprisingly dexterous as it plucked tarts from the tray and tossed them one at a time into her mouth. The toddler—Marinka, Rysha remembered—remained on the stoop, half hiding behind the doorjamb as she watched the tongue in action.
“It is a challenge when one’s house guests have extra-large stomachs,” Sardelle added, then turned back to the stasis chambers.
Trip pointed out a few things and murmured to her, a broken conversation that Rysha had trouble following. She suspected it was half out loud and half telepathic.
As this went on, Dorfindral sent disgruntled sensations into Rysha’s mind, the sword irritated by all the magic about, magic that Rysha wasn’t leaping to destroy. She didn’t want to deal with repeating orders for the blade to stand down, so she simply unbuckled the scabbard and leaned it against the side of the house. It ought to be safe here.
Tylie appeared on the threshold, ruffled Marinka’s hair, then came out and offered to hold Sardelle’s baby. When Sardelle relinquished the little one, Rysha thought Tylie might take him back inside, but she instead walked around the stasis chambers and peered in the top of each one.
“Some of these are animals,” she said brightly, as if this was delightful news.
Rysha remember
ed how they’d been attacked ferociously by the dragon-blooded animals that Grekka had spent who knew how many years collecting from around the world. She felt significantly less delighted at the idea of half-dragon animals.
“Most of them,” Trip told her. “There are eight human, er, half-human babies. Five girls and three boys.”
“I believe we’ll have to… hatch them soon.” Sardelle rested her hand on the side of one device. “The occupants in even the undamaged chambers are showing some signs of distress.”
Trip locked his concerned gaze on Sardelle, and Rysha felt for him. This shouldn’t have been his responsibility, but who else’s could it be?
“I’ve had a few days’ warning,” Sardelle went on, “though I didn’t expect to have to act so quickly. I’ve spoken with a few mothers in the area that are nursing right now and could add another mouth to the dinner table, as it were. Myself included, of course.”
Of course? Rysha wasn’t sure she could imagine suddenly having to breastfeed three-thousand-year-old babies that were half dragon.
“Seven gods, I forgot about milk,” Trip said, bringing the heel of his palm to his forehead. “I wasn’t sure how old they are, or, uh, how long babies need milk. I don’t know anything about…” He swallowed and lowered his hand. “But I’ll learn. I don’t want them to be raised in an orphanage. I want to take care of them.”
“In between working full-time as a pilot and learning to become a sorcerer?” Sardelle quirked an eyebrow at him.
“Yes. I mean, I could give up one of those things if I had to.” Trip threw an anguished look toward the sky, and Rysha couldn’t imagine that piloting would be the “one” he would choose. “But I’ll have to figure out a way to feed them and house them. Babies don’t drink milk indefinitely, right? They need food eventually. And I don’t think they can stay in the barracks…”
“Your thoughts on this matter are noble,” Sardelle said, “if naive, but I suspect this may be a situation requiring a village to raise a child, or children, I should say.”
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