6.0 - Raptor

by Lindsay Buroker

  • • • • •

  Cas walked the passageway toward Tolemek’s door later than she had anticipated. General Ort hadn’t sent the fliers back out to check on the downed Cofah craft, but the airship itself had descended far enough to lower infantry soldiers to the ground to round up injured prisoners. Ort had asked Cas—and the sword—to go with them in case they had to deal with the sorceress. She had stood nearby, dread curdling in her stomach. Logically, she knew they needed to find the sorceress and deal with her, but she hadn’t wanted to face her with just Kasandral. Even though the sword could hurt the woman, she would have felt far more comfortable dodging fireballs and attacking from within her flier. In the end, it hadn’t mattered because the sorceress hadn’t been among those that the troops had rounded up. Cas wasn’t surprised. The sorceress had been one of the few Cofah to escape from the flying fortress. Ort was questioning the prisoners as to where she had gone, but Cas doubted he would learn anything useful.

  She knocked lightly on Tolemek’s door, half expecting him to have tended his own wounds and gone to sleep already. Still, as soon as she had returned, she had washed, donned a clean uniform, and grabbed a first-aid kit.

  Tolemek answered the door instead of hollering for her to come in. It was just as well, since she might not have heard him. A lot of shouts and banging noises came from above decks. The crew, along with many of the gunners and infantrymen, had been pressed into starting repairs right away. She wasn’t sure how she had avoiding being included on a work crew, as other officers had been pulled into duty, but nobody had pointed at her, Pimples, or Kaika. Maybe they had appeared too battered for extra work. Or maybe they were being rewarded for taking down the first airship. Cas grimaced at that idea. She didn’t want to be rewarded for anything, especially when all she had done was drop a sword. She would have preferred extra duties, or perhaps to be assigned to the team General Ort had ordered to sweep through the ship and make sure there weren’t any Cofah stowing away.

  “I see you’ve come wearing smiles,” Tolemek said, standing in front of her bare-chested and with a towel slung over his shoulder. He glanced down. “And sexy attire.”

  Cas snorted, since the formless military fatigues were anything but. “I didn’t know you were supposed to bring sexy attire along on dragon-slaying missions.” Even back home, the only thing she had that possibly qualified as sexy was a nightgown with some lace on the hems. “I couldn’t imagine needing it to hurl swords at sorceresses.”

  “Hurling swords? I don’t think that’s the proper use for such a weapon.”

  “We’re living in unique times.” Cas could have stood there and admired his chest for a while, especially since she hadn’t seen much of it of late, but she remembered her mission and peered up at the side of his head. It didn’t look like he had treated his wound yet, though he had washed the blood off his face. Knowing him, he had gotten caught up in some experiment and forgotten that a bullet had sliced through his locks and left a furrow in his scalp. “Want to sit down and let me rub goo on that?”

  “Yes.” Tolemek took a few steps into the room, then paused. “Just to clarify, you’re talking about my wound, right?”

  “Yes.”

  She followed him inside and waved for him to sit on the bed. As she set down the first-aid kit, she realized that had been a joke. Some kind of innuendo. She should have responded with a wink or a flirty statement that would let him know she’d gotten it. Except that she hadn’t. Why did these things always go over her head?

  “It was good of you to dress in something sexy,” she said.

  That did not come out as flirty as she had intended, so she rested a hand on his shoulder, hoping it would get the point across. She really ought to be less awkward with him by now, but after she had barely spoken to him for the last month, she felt less certain of his feelings. And she had never been good at flirting, not with anyone. For most of her life, it had never occurred to her to try.

  Tolemek touched his palm to his bare chest, his chin tilted down as he looked up at her through his lashes, his ropes of hair hanging down to frame his face. “I didn’t think you noticed.”

  “I always notice.” And she did. She liked looking at him with his shirt off—with other things off too. How he remained so fit when he worked in a lab all day, she didn’t know. She’d caught him doing chin-ups from a bar in the corner a couple of times, but didn’t know if he truly exercised with any intent these days. As a pirate, he had, so he could look fierce and use his body and reputation to intimidate people, so he rarely had to fight. Maybe he still felt he needed to do that here in Iskandia.

  “Do you? I rarely notice you noticing.”

  “Your eyesight isn’t as quick and agile as mine.” Cas pushed his hair back so she could get a better look at the gouge, letting her hand linger on his shoulder.

  “I don’t think I can argue with that.”

  “Good. Where’s your healing gunk?”

  “Gunk? Healing Salve Number Seven is on that counter.” He shifted to get up, but she pressed down on his shoulder to stop him.

  “I’ll get it.”

  “I thought you were going to spend more time admiring my formulas, calling them by appealing names, perhaps.”

  Cas returned with the jar. “Perhaps if you came up with an appealing name, I would use it.”

  “Hm.”

  She found a basin he had filled, gave the sponge a wary look, then brought it over to dab his wound clean. She tended it carefully, certain it must be painful, given the depth. It started bleeding anew as she worked, so she hurried to dab some of the goo on. As she recalled from personal experience, it caused wounds to close up and heal much more quickly than a mundane concoction would.

  Though she worried his pain might be making him uncomfortable, Tolemek gazed at her contentedly as she worked, a rare smile curving his lips upward. Though he was more playful with her than he was in general, he often managed to look somber, even when he was trying to be mischievous. It was as if he could never quite forget his past, never allow himself to relax completely and enjoy life. But then, who was she to think such thoughts? When was the last time she had enjoyed anything? Wasn’t it a crime to contemplate enjoyment, after what she had done? It seemed like it would be more of a crime to let herself forget. It bothered her that the others were willing to do just that. Oh, Pimples didn’t know, and she wasn’t sure if even General Ort knew exactly what had happened in the castle, but Kaika did. Zirkander did. Sardelle did. Nobody had frowned at her in condemnation, not then, and not at the king’s meeting. She had a hard time understanding why not. Especially with Zirkander. He’d been Apex’s commanding officer for years, longer than Cas had even been in the squadron.

  “Such a serious nurse,” Tolemek murmured, watching her eyes. “Did anything happen out there? Any sign of the sorceress? Did you have to use the sword?”

  The sword. She did not want to think about the sword. Kasandral had seemed grouchy with her when she put it back in its box, but how could a blade convey such a thing? Surely, it had been her own mind making that up.

  “She got away. I used the sword briefly to break through her barrier around the airship.” She nodded at him, wanting to avoid talking about Kasandral. “You seem far more contented, especially for a man with a hole in his head. What are you thinking about? Sponges?”

  Tolemek startled her by laughing. “No. Not yet, anyway. I was thinking of our kiss from earlier.”

  She had thought of that kiss a few times, too, remembering how much she had enjoyed it, especially after so long with just her own company. She wasn’t sure she should be enjoying such things, but she had.

  “Good,” she murmured.

  “Good?” He looked hopeful.

  Cas screwed the lid back on the salve and picked up a roll of bandages. “I’m not sure I’d know what to do with sponges. Sexily, anyway.”

  “Oh.” He chuckled again. “Just washing, I think. Slowly and enticingly. Though I suppose Capta
in Kaika could have had more in mind. She’s more worldly than I am.”

  “Me too.” By far. Cas considered his head. “I’m not sure how I’m going to wrap this bandage. Around your hair? It’s going to be awfully lumpy if I try.” She prodded one of the ropes of hair on the other side of his head. “Maybe we could do something with these.”

  “It’ll stop bleeding soon, now that the salve is on it. No need to shave my head.”

  “I was envisioning tying it back, not shaving it. I like to be able to tell you apart from the Cofah soldiers.”

  She’d meant it as a joke, but his smile faltered. It was easy to forget he had been exactly that, a Cofah soldier.

  “I don’t think anyone will mistake me for one of them again,” he said. “They certainly won’t. I seem to be quite recognizably a traitor.”

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

  “It’s fine.” The smile didn’t quite return, but he tugged at the hem of her uniform jacket. “Do you have any wounds you’d like me to apply salve to? You looked a little rough when…” He trailed off, his hand lowering, and his head turning toward the door.

  It was still closed. The noises on the deck above had died down, and she hadn’t heard anything in the passageway. Tolemek stood up, his head brushing the low ceiling of the lab. He reached over and cut out the closest lantern, then headed for another one beside a stack of beakers and test tubes that had survived the air battle.

  “Did you bring a pistol?” he asked softly.

  “I didn’t think I’d need one against the sponges.” Trusting his instincts, Cas pulled a folding knife out of the first-aid kit.

  Tolemek extinguished the second lantern. Darkness fell across the cabin.

  Before Cas could decide if she wanted to question him, someone knocked on the door. It was a light knock, as if the owner didn’t want to be heard. Tolemek did not answer it. Cas thought he had moved away from the lantern and closer to the door, but the darkness was absolute, and she could not be certain.

  The latch clunked softly, and the door opened. Cas had a glimpse of a bearded man with short, tousled hair, but he darted inside so quickly, closing the door behind him, that she couldn’t make out more. All she knew was that with the beard, he was not part of the Iskandian, all-military crew.

  She opened the knife and lowered to a crouch, breathing shallowly so she wouldn’t make a noise. The creaking of the cables and an occasional shout filtered down from the deck above. Someone walked through the passageway outside, boots clomping on the polished wood. Whoever had come inside did not make a noise. She did not think he had come far into the cabin, but if he was an expert on moving about stealthily, he might have done so without her noticing.

  A faint click came from the middle of the lab, then the sound of something rolling across the floor. Cas took a deep breath, expecting one of Tolemek’s knockout grenades. Indeed, she caught a whiff of a familiar sickly smoky scent at the end of her inhalation. She wouldn’t have much time to act before she had to draw in air. Tolemek must mean to do something quickly. She was tempted to try and detain the intruder herself, but if he was doing the same thing, they could get in each other’s way.

  A thump sounded, and the door opened. The man was trying to escape. Cas took a step forward, but Tolemek acted more quickly. He threw himself onto the man’s back. Their combined weight made the door slam shut again. Thumps and grunts followed as the men crashed to the deck and wrestled. Someone kicked a cabinet, and glass rattled.

  Not about to jump into a knife fight in the dark, Cas eased across the room toward the lantern. Still holding her breath, the smoke in the air tickling her nose, she found it by feel. Tolemek had fully extinguished it, so she couldn’t simply turn it back up again.

  More thumps came from near the door, followed by something that sounded like a head cracking against a bulkhead. Neither man cried out, and she didn’t know who had been hit. She fumbled at the base of the lantern for the match compartment. Wishing she had a pistol in hand, she drew out a match and scraped it across the striker. A small flame burst to life.

  She held it aloft before lighting the wick, wanting to make sure Tolemek wasn’t about to be slain. He was on his knees, holding a knife to the throat of the man who’d come in, a man whose eyes were crossing. A few feet away, the knockout grenade sent tendrils of smoke into the air. Tolemek looked at it and jerked his head. Toward the door? He was holding his breath too.

  With her lungs starting to call out for air, Cas hurried to light the lantern and grab the grenade. The metal was warm against her palm, and whatever was in the formula for the smoke made her hand itch. She looked around for somewhere to stuff it. Should she throw it into the passageway? No, other people were out there. With her breath running out, she jammed it into a drawer, smothered it with a towel, and slammed the drawer shut and latched it.

  She stepped back and sucked in a big breath. Maybe she shouldn’t have, not so early. Right away, her head felt thick, her thoughts foggy.

  Tolemek dragged his captive over to a switch on the wall. He threw it, and a noisy ventilation system kicked in, grinding and clanking like a dying steam carriage. “Cas. There’s a truth serum in that vial in the rack on the far counter there. Will you get it, please?”

  Cas’s heart lurched, memories flooding back to her at the mention of his truth drugs. She’d confessed her entire life to him and that awful pirate captain when she had been their prisoner. She had also spoken openly of Zirkander, of adoring feelings she’d had for him in her younger days. Even months later, the memory made her cheeks heat with embarrassment.

  Telling herself the drug was not for her this time, Cas headed to the rack he had indicated with the jerk of his chin.

  “Is he Cofah?” she asked, returning with the vial.

  The man’s chin slumped to his chest, and his body fell limp in Tolemek’s arms.

  “We can ask him when he wakes up. Would you mind opening the door?” His voice sounded slow, but Cas didn’t know if it was the way he was speaking or if she was simply drug-addled. Tolemek blinked a few times, his eyes glassy. “The ventilation fans are not up to modern standards.” He let his unconscious captive slide down to the deck and started searching him.

  Cas stumbled a couple of times, which made her feel pathetic, because there wasn’t anything on the floor or in her way. She nearly fell into the passageway as she opened the door. She sucked in the relatively fresh air out there—in truth, it smelled like unwashed laundry and smoke, but anything was better than the tainted lab air.

  “Raptor?” came a concerned inquiry from down the hall. “Are you all right?”

  Pimples stood a few doors down in his undershirt, with a damp towel slung over his shoulder. From his frown, Cas judged she looked even more unwell than she felt.

  “Fine.” She braced herself against the doorframe. “Air quality issue.”

  Pimples strode forward, the concern on his face turning into something else. Anger?

  With her thoughts still muzzy, she struggled to figure out why he would be mad.

  He touched her arm and scowled into the lab. “Have you been fighting?”

  “No. He toppled over before anything escalated to a fight.”

  Belatedly, it occurred to her that Pimples must have thought she and Tolemek had been fighting. That might have been preferable to breathing one of his concoctions.

  She shook her head and pointed at the figure slumped at Tolemek’s feet. “We have a visitor.”

  Some of the righteous fury on Pimples’ face faded, but he still looked suspiciously at Tolemek, his long hair falling wildly about his bare chest. Finally, he focused his frown on the more appropriate figure.

  “We missed one of the Cofah?” he asked.

  “It would seem so.”

  “We can handle it.” Tolemek had dumped a dagger, throwing stars, a pistol, a bone-handled garrote, and a couple of tiny ceramic jars onto the deck, the contents of the man’s belt and pockets.

  Pimple
s walked inside. Cas was reluctant to leave the doorway—she much preferred the air out there. Tolemek hadn’t passed out, but she felt queasy and logy. She remembered the time she’d shared wine with her comrades after a successful mission. It had muddled her thoughts, and she had been ready to collapse into her bunk after one glass. She had stayed away from alcohol since then. As she stumbled back into the cabin with heavy feet, she made a note to herself to avoid Tolemek’s concoctions in the future too.

  “You don’t look good, Cas.” Pimples gripped her elbow, like he worried she would topple over if he didn’t support her.

  Tolemek caught the touch, and his lips thinned, but he did not say anything. He continued removing weapons—their visitor had been carrying a small armory on his person.

  Cas extracted her arm. “I’m fine. Thanks. Let’s worry about that fellow, eh?”

  “Sure, Raptor.” Pimples nudged the downed man with the toe of his boot. The figure groaned, stirring slightly.

  Tolemek jumped to his feet and dug through a nearby drawer. He definitely had not been as affected by the gas. Cas picked up the pistol to aim at their captive, feeling much better with a projectile weapon in hand. No matter how much gas she had inhaled, she trusted her aim better than her ability to grapple with the man.

  “You want me to hold him down?” Pimples asked.

  “No.” Tolemek didn’t seem to be interested in accepting help, at least not from him.

  Now that Pimples realized Tolemek hadn’t been pummeling her, he seemed quite curious about the intruder. “Think he’s here for Raptor? Or for you, Deathmaker?”

  “It’s Tolemek, and I’ve already been informed there’s a bounty on my head.” He withdrew a coil of rope from the drawer and stepped over the man to tie him up.

  Cas had been leaning against a counter for support, but she stood straight at his words. She had assumed this was some soldier from the Cofah airship, even if he lacked the typical shaven head, but as her head slowly cleared, she realized Tolemek must be right. This man had all of the gear of an assassin, even if he hadn’t turned out to be a very good one.