“Not this ocean, ma’am,” Leftie said.
“No, ma’am,” was all Trip said.
Rysha peered toward his flier. It was ahead and to the left of Duck’s. Trip hadn’t spoken much during the long flight across the water, and he hadn’t explained, at least not to her, why Dreyak was once again riding behind him.
“I see some docks,” Blazer said. “Small ones. Nothing elevated for airships, as far as I can tell. No runways, but that isn’t surprising. Until recently, only Iskandia had fliers.”
“There are artillery weapons on either end of that harbor,” Trip said. “On those elevated hills. See them? The hills are man-made.”
“Are you using magic to discern that?” Blazer asked. “Or are your eyes a lot better than we thought?”
“Which answer would make you the least uncomfortable?” Trip asked.
Rysha would have smiled, but his tone didn’t sound dry or amused. It sounded like a genuine question.
“I liked it when we all pretended those swords were giving you the answers,” Leftie grumbled.
If Rysha had been flying behind him, she would have smacked him. She’d spotted Trip and Leftie talking at Trip’s grandparents’ house and had thought that encouraging, but Leftie still sounded dour. What would it take for him to get over that?
“Jaxi informs me that there are men manning those artillery weapons currently,” Trip said, “and that they’re rubbing their weapons while looking at us.” He paused. “They may also have orders to—”
A boom came from the northern end of the harbor. A cannonball arched up and toward the fliers.
Rysha gripped the sides of the seat well, but neither Duck nor the others altered their course.
The cannonball sailed past to the left and well above their heads before reaching its apex, then plummeted toward the ocean. It disappeared into the deep blue water with an infinitesimal splash. At least it appeared infinitesimal from their altitude. The fliers were still a couple thousand feet in the air.
“Shoot at us?” Blazer suggested.
“Possibly,” Trip said, his tone dry, a hint of his humor showing for the first time that day.
Rysha thought of the night before, of how much his humor had come out when they’d been alone together. He was far more reserved with the others around.
Another cannonball shot out, this time from the southern artillery platform. It sailed past a good fifty yards to the right of the closest flier.
“Hard to be alarmed by that,” Duck said, “after having dragon fire spewed at you and getting clubbed by their wings.”
“True,” Blazer said, “but they’ll find their range soon if we keep flying straight.”
“Maybe this is like the pirate outpost,” Leftie said, “and we’re supposed to pay a toll in order to land.”
“Hard to pay the toll before landing.”
“We could fly over the city and drop nucro coins.”
The cannons fired two more balls, the projectiles sailing closer this time.
“Nucros aren’t what I’m in the mood to drop on those people right now,” Blazer said. “We’ll head south and find a quiet beach to land on. Trip, you sure you want to start your search in Lagresh? If there was a dragon living down there, they wouldn’t need to fire cannons.”
“This city was mentioned in my mother’s letters. There’s supposed to be a dragon-rider outpost to the north.”
“Then let’s find a quiet beach to the north. Maybe we can bypass the city altogether.”
Rysha touched the rifle mounted to the side of the seat well and also Dorfindral’s hilt. To her surprise, the sword emanated warmth, and a little warning buzz ran up her hand.
“That’s not from Trip, is it?” she asked, though she knew the sword wouldn’t respond.
“What’s that, Ravenwood?” Duck called back.
“My sword is buzzing.”
“It thinks there’s magic around? More than the usual stuff that comes from the flier crystals?”
“It seems to.” Rysha leaned forward to yell toward the crystal. “Trip, can you tell if there’s any magic in the city?” She didn’t see anything else up in the sky with them as they turned north along the coastline. As cloudless and clear as it was, she could see for miles, if not dozens of miles.
“We don’t sense anything coming from the city,” Trip said after a moment.
“Anyone else get concerned when Trip talks about himself like he’s multiple people?” Leftie asked.
“No,” Blazer said. “He is multiple people right now. What do the swords say, Trip?”
“They know little about this continent and less about the city. They’re not sure if there was a purge in the past or if sorcerers or shamans survived and magic will be typical here. Jaxi says she was here once, before Sardelle’s time, and that it looks about the same now as it did then.” After a short pause, he added, “Azarwrath says something similar.”
“So, this is the continent that time forgot?” Blazer asked. “Those cannons do look to be about a thousand years old. Let’s hope that means that’s all they’ve got to throw at visitors.”
“I believe the magic Dorfindral is sensing is coming from the dragon-rider outpost. It’s not that far up the coast.”
The city fell out of sight behind them as the fliers soared north along dusty cliffs that matched the rest of the continent. Below, whitecaps surged, and waves crashed against the rocks.
Rysha bounced in her seat at the idea of exploring an old dragon-rider outpost, and she scoured the cliffs with her gaze. Nothing in the letters she’d read had led her to believe they would find answers in it, and she didn’t even know if Trip’s mother had ended up visiting it—none of the recipes in those journals had mentioned intriguing mold as an ingredient—but they ought to be able to spend a few hours exploring it. Maybe, if all the chambers hadn’t been looted, they could find a mention of Agarrenon Shivar. Even if they had been looted—given the reputation of the continent and the outpost’s proximity to a large city, that seemed likely—wall carvings or statues of dragons might remain within.
“There are some caves in those cliffs,” Duck said. “What’s a dragon-rider outpost look like?”
“They were often built into mountain tops and cliffs just like this,” Rysha said, pleased to have the opportunity to share her knowledge. “It allowed the dragons to take off from an elevated position and offered some natural defense from invaders, beyond whatever magical booby traps were installed. There are typically only one or two ways in, sometimes no ways for those who don’t come on dragon back. Did you know—”
“Are those just caves then?” Blazer asked, waving toward the cliff. “Or was this outpost overly endowed with entrances?”
“I suspect Trip could more accurately tell you than I if there’s a large system of chambers and tunnels hollowed out in the rocks over there,” Rysha said, a little miffed at being cut off, “which is what you would expect from an outpost. They generally housed up to a hundred people and as many as a dozen dragons. If the dragons weren’t shape-shifted, they took up a lot of space.”
“That was a yes or no question, Ravenwood,” Blazer said.
“Stop picking on my lieutenant,” came Kaika’s voice over the crystal, distant since she was in the back seat of her flier.
“I’m not picking on her; I’m trying to get her to be succinct.”
“Which she takes as a personal affront, I’m certain. She’s trying very hard to educate you.”
Rysha blinked at this unexpected—and unorthodox—defense. She wasn’t positive Kaika wasn’t teasing her, too, though her teasing was always good-natured. She looked toward Trip’s flier, thinking of the much more appealing teasing that they had shared the night before. But his focus was toward the cliffs, and he seemed unaware of the group’s banter.
“Are you affronted, Lieutenant?” Blazer asked.
“No, ma’am. Just mildly miffed.”
“See?” Kaika said. “You miffed the only
one here who knows about these outposts.”
“Are we closer to the magic you sensed, Trip?” Rysha asked. “Bhrava Saruth mentioned a magic dead zone on the continent. I’m not sure how reliable a source he is.”
“A magic dead what?” Blazer asked.
“Dead zone. It’s supposed to be farther inland, though. An area where dragons aren’t comfortable flying because their magic is affected.”
“The rider outpost is in the cliffs farther up ahead,” Trip said. “Hollowed-out chambers and tunnels, and some residual magic. That’s likely what the chapaharii swords are sensing.”
His flier dipped lower to soar along near the cliffs, about two-thirds of the way up their wind-scoured faces. A waterfall poured out of an orifice in the rock, surprising Rysha. Judging by the barren look of the land so far, she wouldn’t have expected rivers anywhere, but she supposed rain had to fall once in a while, or people wouldn’t have been able to live on the continent at all.
“Will there be a place where we can land the fliers?” Blazer asked.
A few seconds passed before Trip answered. “I sense that the main cavern where the dragons took off and landed has collapsed and is filled with rubble. That would have been the most likely landing spot. Those other caves Duck noticed are small and don’t connect. There’s a beach up ahead. We might be able to land there and find a path up to the cliffs. I sense an entrance on the bluff up above, but the terrain is very rocky up there and for miles around. It would make landing above the outpost difficult.
“So we’re landing on a beach instead?” Duck asked. “Nothing like having to clean sand out of flier parts—and human parts.”
“It shouldn’t be a problem unless you and your flier are going to roll around in it,” Blazer said.
“I don’t know about that, ma’am. Sand has a tendency to get into nooks and crannies.”
“Nobody wants to hear about your nooks and crannies, Captain,” Leftie said.
“There’s the collapsed cavern,” Trip said, pointing to his right.
Rysha could make out a slight ledge protruding from the cliff and could tell there had indeed been a large opening there once, but rubble filled it, completely blocking what would have been the landing area. She couldn’t tell if it had been collapsed by natural or man-made—or dragon-made—means, but suspected the latter. The cave-in had likely happened long ago, during the Rider Wars.
“That ledge is too narrow for us to land,” Blazer said, “and there’d be nowhere to go even if we did. All right, where’s this beach?”
“We’re almost there, ma’am,” Trip said, “but I sense… hm.”
“Ravenwood talks too much, and he talks too little. How did I end up in charge of this crew again?”
“Are you saying you don’t adore us, ma’am?” Duck asked. “I’m moderately wounded.”
“I’m surprised you can think about wounds when you’re busy imagining sand in your nooks and crannies.”
“There’s some magic on the beach,” Trip said, as the sandy swath came into view ahead, a mile-long gap in the cliffs before they continued northward. It was as if some giant had come along and torn a massive piece out of them. “The soulblades believe there could be booby traps.”
“Booby traps?” Blazer asked. “Who booby-traps a beach?”
“A city full of criminals more bristly than porcupines?” Duck suggested.
“Also, there are people inside the outpost,” Trip added.
Blazer frowned over at Duck’s flier—at Rysha.
She lifted her hands. She hadn’t promised there wouldn’t be.
“The outpost isn’t far from the city,” Rysha said. “It’s probably a popular spot for looting or just exploring.”
“Wonderful,” Blazer said. “Can you tell what the people are doing, Trip? Are they all over the place or in a group?” Blazer tilted her wings and banked toward the coast. “Follow me, gents. Let’s see if we can find a non-booby-trapped landing spot.”
“We can’t read their thoughts or tell what they’re doing,” Trip said. “Azarwrath believes some of the lingering magic about the place is designed to protect the inhabitants from spies.”
“So, we don’t know if that’s an army lying in wait or a passel of school children on a field trip?” Duck asked.
“Let’s find a spot to land first and worry about the field trip later.” Blazer flew up and skimmed over the rocky bluff.
Duck soared over it, too, and Rysha peered over the side of the flier. As Trip had warned, the rugged terrain appeared unsuitable for landing fliers. Walking upon it wouldn’t be easy, either, though she spotted a narrow path winding between boulders.
“I’m sensing magic up here too,” Trip said as the squadron sailed over the rocky bluffs. “More booby traps, perhaps.”
“What?” Blazer asked, starting to sound cranky.
“Sorry, I didn’t notice it before. The exterior magic mingles with the interior magic. I’m surprised the outpost still has defenses around it after all these years.”
“How did a group of people get inside if everything is booby-trapped?”
“Maybe that path isn’t booby-trapped,” Leftie said. “It looks like it heads back toward town. Maybe foot traffic is allowed, and they just don’t want people landing airships or fliers here.”
“As in, the locals are allowed in, but not visitors from other nations? I need a smoke, damn it.”
“At least nobody is firing on us now, ma’am.”
“Give it time,” Blazer grumbled. “How far north are we going to have to fly to find a spot to land? And will we be able to find a way back to the outpost?”
“There is a path that looks like it comes up from that beach,” Leftie said.
He had to have eagle-eyes. Rysha could barely make it out.
“Let’s head to the beach,” Trip said. “I think I can direct us to land between the traps. They’re less frequent down there than right above the outpost. If they were planted in the sand, it’s possible some have washed away.”
“Lead the way,” Blazer said, then lowered her voice to mutter, “Something I never thought I’d say to a young officer known for wandering off on side trips.”
“We’ll land one flier at a time,” Trip said. “I’ll go first.”
Grumbled curses sounded, more muffled and distant than his words. Dreyak speaking from his back seat? Maybe he didn’t want to be the test subject.
Trip’s flier sailed toward the beach while Duck, Leftie, and Blazer flew in large circles overhead.
“Is that a boat back there?” Leftie pulled out his ball charm and brought it to his lips. “To the south? Toward the city?”
“You mean that speck of gray in the water?” Blazer asked.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“It could be someone was sent out to make sure we didn’t find a hospitable landing spot,” Duck said.
“Or it could be someone going fishing,” Blazer said. “Though I suppose we better not bet on it. At least these people seem primitive when it comes to weapons. Mundane weapons.”
Trip’s flier settled onto the beach, high up above the waterline. His right wingtips almost brushed the cliff that rose at the back of the sandy stretch.
“Next,” Trip said. “Set down approximately seven feet behind my tail.”
“Approximately?” Blazer dipped the nose of her flier downward.
“Precisely would be better.”
“I thought so.”
As Rysha watched the fliers descend, carefully choosing their landing spots with Trip’s guidance, she wondered if they should have flown inland and tried to find a better place in that direction. But the dead zone Bhrava Saruth had mentioned worried her since magical energy crystals powered the fliers. Did it start up a few miles from the coast? Or dozens of miles? Would Trip be able to sense the area before they reached it? She wished the dragon hadn’t been distracted by the lack of sheep on the continent and had given more details.
The third flier l
anded, and Rysha gripped the sides of hers as Duck took them down. The others already rested in the sand in a precise line, everyone looking at the ground around them.
Duck landed without trouble, Trip pointing him to a spot near the cliff. Rysha spotted the trail Leftie had mentioned. It led up the cliff in switchbacks in an area that wasn’t as sheer as others.
Rysha climbed gingerly down from the flier and eyed the beach. It appeared entirely normal, a little hard to walk on where they were, with flatter, wetter sand closer to the water. Waves rolled in and battered that lower half of the beach.
“What does a magical booby trap act like?” Kaika asked. “Explosives?”
“Wander around on the sand, and maybe you’ll find out.” Blazer was chomping on a cigar instead of smoking it. That one might not survive long enough to be enjoyed. “We’re going to need a couple of people to stay here and guard the fliers. Trip, fish the comm crystal out of yours, will you? We’ll take it along so we can talk to each other.”
Trip opened his mouth, and Rysha thought he might point out that he and the swords could telepathically communicate with those left on the beach, but after a pause, he simply said, “Yes, ma’am,” and climbed up to comply.
“I need to go to the city,” Dreyak said.
“Nope, you got a free ride, and in exchange, you can stay here and guard the fliers with Leftie.” Blazer pointed a finger at him when his mouth opened. “You use your damn magic on me again, and I’ll cut your flesh pole off. Don’t think I didn’t realize three seconds later what you did.”
Dreyak’s chin lifted, and his eyes blazed with indignation. “You’ll never get anywhere close to my pole, woman. I am a supreme warrior, trained by Cofah masters at armed and unarmed combat.”
“Notice he didn’t deny manipulating me,” Blazer told Rysha.
Rysha had no idea when this had happened, so she only lifted her hands. She was far more interested in the outpost than in arguing on the beach.
Trip hopped down, the glow of the crystal visible through his curled fingers. “I suggest we save pole-removal discussions for later. That boat Leftie saw is coming this way. Along with three others. Possibly five others. Two more are pulling away from their docks right now. They are all of a similar make.”
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