THE END
Afterword
Thank you for trying The Emperor’s Edge. If you’re ready for more adventures with Amaranthe, Sicarius, and the rest of the gang, the story continues with Dark Currents.
Balanced on the Blade’s Edge
Dragon Blood, Book 1
by Lindsay Buroker
Copyright © 2014
Introduction to Balanced on the Blade’s Edge
When I wrote Balanced on the Blade’s Edge, I had no intention of turning it into a series. I seem to recall that I had another project that I was supposed to be working on at the time. This is how it goes with authors—whatever novel you’re writing or editing isn’t nearly as appealing as the shiny new project that just popped into your mind.
I was on a little ski trip in Telluride, Colorado in early 2014 and had some science fiction romance novels along to read. In an earlier introduction, I mentioned that I’d never read much romance growing up, but once I started finding some that took place in my favorite genres of science fiction and fantasy, I went hunting for them! Even though I generally prefer to read and write in series (once I fall in love with characters, I always want to spend more time with them), I was enjoying the simple stand-alone stories, and I thought… Hm, why don’t I write one of these? It probably wouldn’t take long, and then I could get back to the project I was supposed to be working on…
The idea for Sardelle and Jaxi came from one of those scifi romances I was reading. In Linnea Sinclair’s An Accidental Goddess, the heroine is a sorceress (I guess this is technically a science-fantasy romance, and not straight scifi!) who had been in an epic battle and slipped into a rift in space, coming out hundreds of years later to find that she had been turned into a goddess by the descendants of those who had been in the battle. The sorceress had a sentient spaceship rather than a sentient sword, but I think “Simon” would have gotten along well with Jaxi.
In Sinclair’s book, her heroine also fell in love with a military officer, but my Colonel Ridgewalker Zirkander definitely wasn’t inspired by the hero in that story. No, as soon as I decided I wanted to do a pilot for my hero, I leaned on Colonel O’Neill from Stargate SG-1 for inspiration. I loved the characters in that series and watched it faithfully until Richard Dean Anderson retired from the show, and O’Neill’s appearances became infrequent. Long-time readers will know that irreverent and occasionally sarcastic characters aren’t much of a stretch for me, and of course, my favorites are the ones who have a selfless, honorable streak under the irreverence.
In case you’re wondering how I came up with the name Ridgewalker, I stole it. Someone I was chatting with on a ski lift during that trip said he’d named his son Ridgewalker. Poor guy. The name was so awful that I just knew I had to bless (curse) a character with it.
Once I had come up with Ridge and Sardelle (and Jaxi the sentient sword), I had the makings for a romance. But you can’t make things too easy for romantic pairings in books, or it’s pretty boring, so Sardelle is a sorceress, and Ridge comes from a culture that fears magic (and hangs suspected witches). As you might guess if you’ve already read Encrypted, I’m a fan of love stories where the heroes are from opposing nations or have some otherwise seemingly insurmountable obstacle between them. (I’m less fond of romances where characters seem to willfully misunderstand each other, and that’s the main source of their conflict.)
For the setting of the story (and some of the key events in it), my ski trip was the inspiration. If you’ve never been to Colorado, the mountains in Telluride are tall, craggy, snowy, and impressive. Everything you would expect from the Rocky Mountains. I remember being near the top of the ski area and looking across to the little airport. It seems to be perched on the side of the mountain, with the lone runway stretching across a plateau with a cliff to one side. (I was glad I’d driven up from Arizona.) When you’re done skiing for the day, and you’re down in town, you feel hemmed in by these towering mountains on all sides. Even though Telluride is a ski resort, it got its start as a mining town (I’m sure they were also looking for magical energy crystals to power airplanes), and I went to the museum while I was there and poked around and read about the history. Somewhere along the way, I ran across some information on explosives being used for avalanche control too. So you start to see where a lot of the elements in the story came from.
In case you’ve ever wondered how authors’ brains work, this is it. You grab ideas from the world around you and from what you’re reading and watching or listening to. It’s one of the reasons I love to travel. Even though books and computers are great, there’s something about being someplace new and listening to tour guides or visiting museums that gives you ideas. And then you take those ideas and figure out a way to incorporate them into the kinds of stories that you like to write. For me, I’d been doing a lot of steam-era fantasy, so it was natural to think in terms of that kind of setting. Up until this series, I hadn’t done anything with aircraft other than the occasional dirigible/airship, and I’ve forgotten what inspired me to think of pilots and World War I-esque biplanes for this one, but it may just have been that I had this O’Neill kind of character in mind and couldn’t imagine a fighter pilot driving a barge of an airship!
As for how Balanced on the Blade’s Edge went from being a stand-alone fantasy adventure with some romance to Book 1 in a series, I think I can just blame that on my love of series (and characters), as I mentioned above. If you’re reading this bundle of books and aren’t yet familiar with the story, don’t worry. There’s no cliff-hanger ending, and it’s not necessary to read on, but if you like the characters and want to see more, then you definitely can. (As I write this, there are seven novels, one novella, and one stand-alone novel featuring side characters from the series.)
When I finished Ridge and Sardelle’s story, I realized that I wasn’t ready to put away the characters, and I also enjoyed the world I’d started to make up. Since most of the tale took place in that mountain prison mine, we’d only seen a small part of Iskandia (and none of the Cofah Empire), and I wanted to see more. It didn’t hurt that Blade’s Edge held a spot in the top 1500 or so on Amazon for a couple of months, surprising me with its success, especially considering it wasn’t related to any of my other series, and it wasn’t exactly a typical epic fantasy adventure. (At that point, there weren’t even any dragons in the story to attract those dragon-loving fantasy readers.)
So, I started mulling over options for a Book 2. But… I’d wrapped things up fairly nicely for Ridge and Sardelle. And since that had been more of a romance than many of my other stories (Emperor’s Edge readers will know it took seven books for the romance in that series to go anywhere.), I wasn’t sure if readers would want to see the further adventures of Ridge and Sardelle or if they would expect another romance. I decided to conjure up two new characters and do a new romance (though Ridge and Sardelle play a pretty large role in the last third). At this point, I had a vague notion of turning the series into something revolving around Ridge’s flier unit: Wolf Squadron. That was even going to be the name of the series. (I think you’ll agree that something with “Dragon” in the title had a much better chance of success.)
After finishing the first two “romances,” I decided I wanted to continue on with the same characters rather than making up new ones for each book. Thus, with Book 3, I started a trilogy within the series (Books 3, 4, and 5) that was more typical of a fantasy adventure saga. The romances with our heroes continued to evolve, but the story itself grew into something larger. After Book 5, I realized I still wasn’t ready to retire the gang, so I wrote a novella and Books 6 and 7 (and a spinoff novel called Shattered Past). I’m thinking of writing a Book 8, too, but if you start reading today, Book 7 ends in a good spot, so the series shouldn’t feel incomplete.
Since Book 1 is all that’s included in this bundle, I suppose I should stop blathering about the subsequent ones. If you’re new to Ridge and Sardelle, I hope you’ll enjoy this adventure!
1
Colonel Ridge Zirkander had walked the hall to General Ort’s office so many times he suspected his boots were responsible for the threadbare state of the drab gray carpet runner. The two privates standing guard on either side of the door were too well trained to exchange knowing smirks, but that didn’t mean gossip of this meeting wouldn’t be all over the citadel by noon. It wouldn’t be the first time. Fortunately, uniforms only held awards and not demerits.
“Morning, gents.” Ridge stopped before the door. He eyed the privates’ rifles—they had the new lever-action repeating models—but neither man looked like he had been given orders to keep visitors out. Too bad. “How’s the general’s mood today?”
“Tense, sir.”
“That applies to most days, doesn’t it?” He didn’t expect an answer—privates weren’t encouraged to chat about officers after all, at least not where said officers might overhear—but the younger one grinned and responded.
“A week ago last Thursday, it elevated to agitated, sir.”
“Glad I was in the air that day then.” Ridge thumped the fellow on the shoulder and reached for the doorknob.
The private’s grin widened. “We heard about the battle cruiser, sir. That was marvelous. I wish I could have seen it.”
“Taking down the supply ship was more of a victory for us, but I suppose that didn’t come with the added excitement of being shot at by cannons.”
“I’d love to hear about it, sir.” The private’s eyes gleamed with hope.
“Might be at Rutty’s later,” Ridge said, “if the general doesn’t send me down to the kitchen to chop vegetables with the recruits.”
He walked in without knocking. Mounds of paperwork were heaped on General Ort’s desk, but the man was gazing out the window overlooking the harbor, his weathered hands clasped behind his back. Merchant, fishing, and military vessels sailed to and from the docks, but, as always, Ridge’s eye was drawn to the dragon fliers lined up on the butte on the southern end. Their sleek bronze hulls, propellers, and guns gleamed under the morning sun, beckoning him to return. His squadron was out there, overseeing maintenance and repairs, and waiting for him to bring them news. He hoped this ego-trouncing session would also include the delivery of new orders.
When the general didn’t turn around right away, Ridge flopped into a plush leather chair in front of the desk, flinging his leg over the armrest.
“Morning, General. I got your message. What can I do for you this fine day?” Ridge nodded toward the blue sky above the harbor, a sky clear of enemy airships as well as clouds.
Ort turned, his customary scowl deepening as he waved at Ridge’s dangling boot. “No, no, have a seat. I insist.”
“Thank you, General. These chairs do lend themselves to lounging in comfort.” Ridge patted the soft leather. “If anyone ever succeeds in foisting an office on me, I hope it’ll be furnished just as finely.”
“Seven gods, Ridge. Every time you see me, I wonder anew how you got so many bars on your collar.”
“It’s a mystery to me as well, sir.”
Ort pushed a hand through his short gray hair, sat down, and pulled out a folder. Ridge’s folder, though he had to have it memorized by now, all of its three inches of thickness. “You’re forty years old, Colonel. Are you ever going to grow up?”
“I’ve been told it’s more likely I’ll be shot down first.”
Ort folded his hands across the folder without opening it. “Tell me what happened.”
“In regard to what, sir?” Ridge asked. He knew perfectly well, but he had long ago learned not to volunteer information that might incriminate him.
“You don’t know?” Ort’s ever-present scowl deepened until the corners of his mouth were in danger of falling off his chin.
“Well, my squad’s been on the ground four days. Could be a lot of things.”
“According to my report, you broke Diplomat Serenson’s nose, bruised his ribs, and threatened to rip off his penis. Any of that sound familiar?”
“Oh,” Ridge said, nodding. “Yes, it does. Although, I believe it was his flesh pole I threatened to rip off. There were ladies present, and some find anatomically correct terms too blunt for polite company.”
The general’s jaw ground back and forth several times before he managed a response. “Explain.”
“That slimy turf kisser had cornered Lieutenant Ahn and was groping her and trying to usher her outside. She was about to slam a fist into his face herself, but I stepped in, figuring she might not appreciate your plush leather chairs the way I do.” Actually, his ace lieutenant, who had nearly as many kills on the side of her flier as he did this year, had been wearing the most conflicted expression, like she might have actually let Serenson drag her outside and paw her up, since he was such an important delegate. To the hells with that—nobody’s uniform required that kind of sacrifice.
“Breyatah’s Breath, Ridge, couldn’t you have defended your officer without starting an international incident?”
Possibly, but he wouldn’t have found it nearly as satisfying. Besides… “International incident? We’re already at war with the Cofah, and this was just a reminder of why we broke away from their rule in the first place. They think they can have anything they want. Well, they can’t. Not my country, and not one of my people.”
Ort sighed and leaned back in his chair. “It’s good to know you care beneath all your irrepressible impudence, but the king was at my throat like an attack dog this morning. This is serious, Ridge. Serenson wants you sent to Magroth.”
Ridge snorted. His crime hadn’t been that severe. Only convicts went to the Magroth Crystal Mines, convicts who would have otherwise been marched out to the firing squad. Very few thought the sentence of life in the mines with no chance of parole was an improvement.
The general pulled a sheet of paper out of the top of Ridge’s file and laid it on the desk. “You leave in the morning.”
“I—what?” For the first time, real unease settled into the pit of his stomach. He had left his blessed dragon figurine dangling in the cockpit of his flier, but maybe he should have brought it along, or at least rubbed its belly for luck that morning. “That’s not very damned funny, sir.”
The general’s humorless gray eyes bored into Ridge like overzealous drills. “The king agrees.”
The king? The king wouldn’t send him to his death. He was too valuable to the war effort. Ridge started to shake his head, but halted, realization coming as his gaze dropped to the typed sheet of paper. Orders. They weren’t sending him as a criminal, but as an officer. A contingent of men guarded the secret mines, the location known only to those high up in command—and those who had been stationed there.
“You want me to guard miners, sir? That’s the infantry’s job and one for a bunch of enlisted men.” Sure, there had to be a few officers there to run administration, but there couldn’t possibly be a posting for a colonel. “Or are you demoting me along with this… reassignment?” Ridge almost gagged on the last word. Reassigned! Him? All he knew how to do was fly and shoot; that’s all he had done since graduating from flight school. He was only vaguely aware of the location of the mines, but knew they were in the mountains, hundreds of miles from the coast, from the front lines.
“Demotion? No, not a demotion. Read the orders, Ridge.” Ort smiled for the first time in the meeting, the kind of smile a bully wears after pummeling some scrawny kid on the brisk-ball court. “The king and I talked about this at great length this morning.”
Ridge picked up the sheet and skimmed. Yes, a reassignment. To the position… He lowered the sheet. “Fortress commander?”
“I believe that’s what it says, yes.” Ort was still smiling. Ridge preferred his scowl.
“That’s… that’s a position for a general.” Or at least someone with experience leading battalions of troops, not to mention the administration background a man should have. All Ridge had commanded were squadrons of smart, cocky officers not unlike him. What w
as he supposed to do with a bunch of infantry soldiers? Not to mention the gods knew how many murdering prisoners that roamed the tunnels?
“In times of war, it’s not uncommon for less experienced officers to be forced to work in positions above their pay grade.”
“What happened to the current commander?” Ridge muttered, imagining some poor general with a miner’s pickaxe driven into his forehead.
“General Bockenhaimer is due to retire this winter. He’ll be extremely grateful to be relieved early.”
“I’ll bet.”
Ridge stared down at the orders, his eyes blurring. He barely managed to check the date. A one-year assignment. Who would command his team while he was gone? Who would pilot his flier? He had always thought… he had been led to assume—no, people had told him, damn it—he was indispensable out there. The war wasn’t over—if anything, this year had seen more fighting than any of the previous four. How could they send him off to some remote gods-forgotten outpost in the mountains?
“I know this is hard for you to stomach, Ridge, but I actually believe it’s for the best.”
Ridge shook his head. It was all he could do. For once, he had no words, no quip with which to respond.
“You’re an amazing pilot, Ridge. You know that. Everyone knows that. But there’s more to being an officer than shooting things. This will force you to mature as a soldier and as a man.” Ort hitched a shoulder. “Or it’ll kill you.”
Ridge snorted.
Ort waved a hand. “You have your orders. Dismissed.”
Beginnings: Five Heroic Fantasy Adventure Novels Page 83