He caught Ahn looking in his direction and groped for a way to ask her if anything strange was going on with his passenger. She either figured out what he wanted, or made the observation of her own accord.
“I guess Crazy Canyon didn’t live up to its name, sir. Colonel Therrik looks bored. Actually, he looks like he’s taking a nap.”
Ridge twisted in his seat to check. Ah, yes, it had worked. The glow of the energy source in the rear showed Therrik slumped down in his seat, his head against the side of the flier. Ugh, he had vomited all over himself. Most people tried to stick their heads over the side at least…
“He’s actually sick,” Ridge said, wishing the communication devices allowed him to single Ahn out for his message. Unfortunately everyone would hear it, including Therrik’s two captains, so he had to make this sound plausible. “I don’t think he has the stomach for an ocean crossing. I’m going to take him back. Continue on course, everyone. I’ll catch up.” He touched the crystal again to dull its glow—and turn it off. He didn’t want to field questions from Kaika or Nowon until it was far too late for them to do anything about the situation.
Ridge dropped out of the formation and turned for land again. He imagined Duck, Ahn, and Apex sharing our-commander-has-gone-crazy looks. He wondered if he had. If Sardelle were not in his life, offering herself as an intriguing alternative ally for this mission, he would have simply dealt with command under Therrik. Probably. Maybe. Enh, he might have arranged to accidentally leave the colonel behind anyway. Working with someone so volatile would be dangerous to everyone.
“Sure, Ridge, keep telling yourself that.” Sighing, he steered for the dark shoreline, the whites of the waves breaking in Monomy Bay.
Dawn was still a ways off, but he had running lights. He could make the landing on the highway, however dark and empty it was.
An orange glow flared below, and he flinched, alarmed to find someone on his chosen runway. Someone who might catch him at this duplicitous exchange. Then the logical part of his mind caught up with his wild thoughts. If Sardelle could take on an enemy shaman and win, she could surely light up the highway for him.
Ridge aimed for the flat road, the stones black and wet from intermittent precipitation. His usual flier required room for landing and taking off, but the two-seaters, designed for flying important people around the continent, had thrusters and could perch on rooftops, cliffs, and even vessels at sea. He activated those thrusters to come down lightly in front of the light source, what turned out to be a ball of swirling orange flame. It lit the surrounding landscape—fields of high grass with cliffs in one direction and the sand and sea in the other—with its soft glow. To some distant observer, it might appear as a torch, a particularly effective torch.
Ridge lifted his goggles and spotted a familiar horse in the grass with Sardelle standing next to it, holding its reins and keeping it from shying away from the flier. He cut off the engine, unstrapped his harness, and checked his passenger. He didn’t know how long Tolemek’s pill would last, but Therrik was still snoozing. Good. Ridge didn’t want a confrontation, especially one he couldn’t win. Sardelle could probably wave her hand and save him, but needing to have one’s balls extricated from the dragon’s maw was no way to impress one’s lady. As it was, levering Therrik’s two-hundred-odd-pounds out of the seat and to the ground wouldn’t be easy.
“Good morning, Sardelle.” Ridge removed his cap, pressed it to his chest, and gave her a little bow, then clambered out of the cockpit to unstrap the colonel. He left his gloves on, since vomit was splattered onto the harness. Speaking of things that wouldn’t impress a lady…
“Good morning, Ridge. It’s been so long since I’ve seen you.”
“Terribly long. Have you been pining with loneliness?”
“Most assuredly.”
With the propeller noise fading, a noshing sound reached his ears. The horse was munching an apple out of Sardelle’s hand. The mare wasn’t hot and lathered after its swift trip up the coast.
“Lift with your legs, not your back,” Ridge muttered and hauled Therrik out of the seat. He rolled him over the edge of the flier, keeping a hold of his belt, so he wouldn’t crash down, head first. Back straining, he lowered the bulky man by the belt. It turned out even his butt was solid muscle. Maybe that was what had once drawn Captain Kaika. Ridge didn’t let go until the colonel was within three feet of the ground. That was as far as he could reach. At that point, he dropped Therrik, doing his best to keep the man’s head from hitting the stone, even if a few cracks to the skull might improve his personality. Ridge hopped down and rolled the colonel to the side of the highway, so he wouldn’t risk hitting him during the takeoff—and so any early morning donkey carts wouldn’t run over him. Therrik was going to be irked enough without waking up with hoofmarks on his face.
“Do you need help with anything?” Sardelle asked.
“No, thank you. Actually, can you bring the mare over here? Maybe we can find something to tie her reins to. The colonel might be slightly less murderous if there’s a horse waiting to take him home.”
“She’ll wait.”
“Without being tied?” It was an army horse, and Ridge hadn’t worked with it enough to know what it had been trained to do. He was certain Sardelle had never seen it before that night.
“Yes.”
“Discussed it, did you?” Ridge was done with the colonel and stepped back onto the road, wiping moisture and grass off his hands. “I didn’t think you were one of those sorceresses who specialized in working with animals.” Until he had met Sardelle, he hadn’t even known there were sorceresses who specialized in animals, speaking with them telepathically and such.
“I’m not, but she’s an amenable soul.” Sardelle led the mare over to the colonel, stroked its neck a few times, and gazed into its big dark eyes for a moment.
Ridge decided to find the situation precious and definitely not creepy.
Sardelle released the reins and stepped out onto the highway beside him, bringing with her the saddlebags he had packed. Instead of one of her usual dresses, she wore dark leathers that would be appropriate for skulking around in forests or cities at night. They were form-fitting and drew attention to her attractive figure, even in the poor light. She also wore boots, her sword, and a fur-lined cloak appropriate for the chill weather. She carried a small bag, destroying all the tales proclaiming a woman’s inability to pack light. Maybe she could magic more things into existence if she needed them.
“Seems a shame to leave her here with such a non-amenable soul,” Ridge said.
“I trust you’ll explain that on the way across the ocean.”
“Explaining his soul might be difficult.” Ridge waved her over to the flier, then crouched and linked his fingers to offer her a boost up.
“His presence alongside the road is what I’m more curious about.” She stepped into his hands and let him boost her into the flier. She was a lot lighter than Therrik. And her backside was a lot more pleasant to look at. He hadn’t made a mistake. He hadn’t. And if he had… he would find a way to make it right. “Ridge… is this vomitus on the seat?”
“Er, possibly.” He winced. Why hadn’t he thought to wipe the seat and toss that gunk over the side?
“I knew flying with you would be an adventure.”
“I’ll try to make the ride smoother for you.” Ridge jumped, caught the edge of the cockpit, and pulled himself up.
“Now, now, don’t make promises you can’t keep.” Sardelle sat in the seat, but not before Ridge saw that it was cleaner than it had been before Therrik climbed in back at the hangar, with even the harness free of detritus.
“Yes, ma’am.” Ridge flipped a couple of switches, and they were soon off.
* * *
“Nice of you to rejoin us, sir,” came Lieutenant Ahn’s voice over the communication crystal.
Sardelle, settled in the seat behind Ridge, smiled, pleased the pilots were using the devices she had made. At least so
mebody appreciated her presence in the city, or what she could make anyway.
Except they don’t think you made them, remember?
I know, but perhaps someday the truth can be revealed.
Before they succeed in hanging, drowning, or otherwise slaying you, let’s hope.
That’s the plan, Jaxi.
There’s a plan? I had no idea.
It’s in its formative stages.
“We can’t help but notice Colonel Therrik got prettier while you were gone, sir,” a male pilot with a country drawl said. That must be Lieutenant Duck. Ridge had told her who he had selected for the mission—and that the other pilot, Apex, was an academic who would be too busy being frosty about Tolemek’s presence to chat much.
At first, Ridge didn’t respond to this ribbing, and Sardelle wondered if he would. As the commander, he shouldn’t have to explain himself, but then again, if his people believed he was defying orders and doing something that would jeopardize the mission, they might have the right to question him. She wasn’t sure what the modern regulations stated. The Iskandian Guard had required absolute obedience to one’s superior officers, no matter what, but she had heard Ridge mention more than once a soldier’s duty to question unlawful orders. Of course, he might have simply been justifying his own habit of questioning everything.
Ridge finally said, “Due to his extreme illness, Colonel Therrik has been replaced with a civilian expert.” He didn’t mention what she was an expert in.
“Funny how ill people get when they’re taken through Crazy Canyon at top speed,” Duck said. His words were followed by a muffled chortle, doubtlessly covered with his scarf. At least one of the pilots didn’t seem that concerned with the switch.
Sardelle stretched her senses toward the three other fliers, trying to get a feel for how everyone else felt. Since she already knew Ahn and Tolemek, they were easy to identify and read: apparently Tolemek had known this was coming for he was neither surprised, nor alarmed. Ahn was concerned that Ridge had done something that could end his career, but she wouldn’t say anything, not when he had once stepped in to protect her and risked his career doing so. Sardelle picked up on the bubbly personality of Lieutenant Duck in the next flier over, and even if it wasn’t respectful, immediately thought of him as a cheerful young dog, happy to have been taken along on an adventure and not overly worried about where they were going or what was happening along the way. A woman sat behind him—this had to be one of the elite troops Ridge had mentioned—wearing numerous weapons with a duffel full of more weapons, tools, and incendiary devices strapped down at her feet. She had a book clenched in her lap, the wind whipping at the pages, but she was gazing into the sky, which had grown a few shades lighter. She seemed to be considering the situation before coming to a judgment. The last flier held Lieutenant Apex and another man, the other elite soldier presumably. He was guarded, his personality difficult to decipher without digging deeper, and she wouldn’t intrude by attempting to do so. The lieutenant was another matter. When Sardelle brushed against his aura, she drew back at the hatred roiling off him. That couldn’t be for Ridge, could it? His pilots all seemed to love him.
Look closer, Jaxi suggested. His family is from Tanglewood.
Ah. Yes, Apex wasn’t glaring at Ridge but looking toward the back of Ahn’s flier now and then, toward Tolemek. He was keeping his face neutral, but murderous thoughts of revenge seeped from his aura.
He wants to find a way to ensure Tolemek doesn’t return from this mission.
Yes, I see that now. Sardelle plucked away a strand of hair that the wind had whipped into her eyes, glad she had guessed right and pulled most of it into a tight braid. Ridge doesn’t know, does he?
He knows. Apex is a dragon expert.
Sardelle slumped back into her seat. All the trouble Ridge was choosing for himself for this mission. And would the king even appreciate his efforts? Or had he condemned himself by getting rid of that colonel? And by choosing to bring her?
“Are you now placing yourself in command of the ground incursion, Colonel?” the woman asked, her voice distant and raised to be heard over the wind since the only communications crystals were in front of the pilots’ seats.
“No, Kaika,” Ridge said. “It’s your and Nowon’s mission. If you need more manpower, someone to replace Therrik in a combat situation, I’ve chosen people whose talents may be useful and who are, pardon my bias, probably more versatile than your colonel. And Tolemek could be invaluable to you if there’s anything tricky in that lab.”
A moment passed before anyone responded, but the two elite officers gave each other long looks from the back seats of their respective fliers.
“I believe Kaika and I would prefer to pursue this mission on our own,” the male passenger—that must be Nowon—said, his voice equally distorted by the wind. “We’ve worked together often, and incorporating another person could create more complications than solutions. We will discuss it further when we arrive at our destination.”
“Understood,” Ridge said. “When we land, we can let you know everyone’s specialties in case you change your mind. I’m probably the only one here who’s only good at flying and shooting things.”
“Thank you, Colonel.”
Now it was Tolemek’s turn to give Ridge a long look, though Ridge wasn’t looking back in his direction. Tolemek doubtlessly wanted to go look for his sister, and if the special unit didn’t want him, it might be the perfect opportunity for him to slip away.
It sounded like the unit didn’t want her, either, not that they knew about her abilities. Sardelle wondered whether Ridge had been including her in that line about sharing everyone’s specialties. She wouldn’t be averse to helping the Iskandian military, as she once had, but it would mean revealing what she could do. It might not matter at this point, given that quite a few people had somehow figured it out—including those women spying on her and attempting to bury her in caved-in basements. Still, she wanted to discuss it with Ridge before revealing her talents and being sent off with two strangers. Fulfilling her promise to Tolemek was her priority here.
Perhaps you could have discussed it last night if you hadn’t been bouncing around in bed like rutting bonobos in the treetops.
Sardelle had thought she was past the point of being embarrassed by any of Jaxi’s commentary, but she found herself blushing and sinking lower in the seat. Probably because she was right.
Of course I’m right. I’m always right. I’ve been in this sword for a long time. It’s made me venerable and wise.
You sound like a dragon. Or someone who thinks she’s a dragon.
I always wanted to meet a dragon. They were long gone even when I was alive.
Maybe not all of them. If the Cofah truly have dragon blood, it came from somewhere. Sardelle smiled, remembering the time Jaxi had admitted she had read oodles and oodles of romance stories involving humans falling in love with dragons, and vice versa, as a girl. That would have been before the printing press was invented, but the Referatu had used magic to make copies, and fiction as well as non-fiction had always been well-represented in the libraries in Galmok Mountain. Perhaps that infatuation was part of the reason she hadn’t found a human boy to have a relationship with before it was too late.
No… I was pimple-faced, pig-tailed, and precocious. The human boys wanted nothing to do with me. Also, I could fry their balls off with a thought. I think that intimidated some of them.
Perhaps it was more the fact that you made that known… frequently. Sardelle hadn’t been there, but she knew Jaxi well enough to believe her guess accurate. The haughty sniff she got by way of a response confirmed it.
Ridge looked back at her, a challenge since she was positioned directly behind him. “Are you doing all right back there?” he called.
Only a couple of feet separated them, but the propeller’s constant drone made it difficult to converse, and the wind rushing past would have stolen his words if he had spoken any more softly. The wind
was trying to steal his scarf, too, or at least its end—it had a tendency to escape his coat and whip free behind him. She had almost taken a fringe in the eye a couple of times. It wasn’t the ideal spot for a heart-to-heart discussion, but she had the feeling the mission would start as soon as they landed, and she had questions that she hadn’t, for reasons Jaxi had noted, asked the night before.
“Yes,” she said.
Ridge touched his ear, and she leaned forward and repeated herself.
“Do you want a scarf or goggles?” he asked. “I brought extras.”
“I’m fine.” By slumping in the seat, keeping her cloak wrapped around her body, and using him as a wind block, she found the ever-present gale tolerable. It was amazing how much colder it was up there, partially from the wind they created and partially from the altitude. The breadth of the ocean made it hard to tell how far up they were, but they definitely weren’t in danger of being shot at from below if they should pass an enemy warship. She wondered if the Iskandians had considered enclosing their cockpits with glass—perhaps it would be too fragile for the pressures of flying and combat. “How far until we reach Cofahre?”
“Not until after dark.”
Considering it would take a sailing ship weeks, that was impressive speed, but she did find herself curious about what happened when the inevitable occurred and she had to use the latrine. An image of herself perched on the side with her rear end hanging over the edge of the flier came to mind. She couldn’t imagine that not being messy. “What happens when the need to engage in bodily functions makes itself known?”
Ridge glanced back, touching his ear again.
Sardelle sighed and leaned forward. “Where do you pee?” This was a frustrating way to talk, especially when she had an alternative. Could she convince him to give it a try?
This time he grinned when he glanced back. “There’s a tube under the seat. Most of us just don’t drink or eat much when we’re up here.”
A tube? That didn’t sound female friendly. Of all the problems she had used magic to solve, she had never thought that would be one.
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