6.0 - Raptor

by Lindsay Buroker

  “I know.”

  He wondered if Phelistoth would consider flying her back home, if a “winged box” wouldn’t do. “Will the storm be bad enough that a dragon wouldn’t consider flying?”

  Maybe if the weather stayed poor, Morishtomaric wouldn’t be able to make an appearance, either. If they had a couple more days to prepare, that would be ideal. Then Major Cildark would have a chance to get his airship coated in the fire-retardant sealant, and Tolemek could test his acid on a dragon scale.

  “Maybe?” Tylie did not sound confident in her judgment.

  “Are you in communication with Phelistoth now?”

  “He’s at the meeting, sniffing General Ridge’s coffee.”

  “Dragons don’t drink coffee, do they?” Tolemek’s mind boggled at the notion.

  “Not yet, but he’s tired, too, and General Ridge said it would make him peppy.”

  Tolemek’s mind boggled even more at the idea of a peppy dragon.

  “When he’s in human form, he’s just like us,” Tylie said. “Mostly.”

  “Right.” He hugged her and stood up. “I guess you better keep painting until we can find a way to send you home.”

  Tylie smiled agreeably.

  “Do you know where Cas is? She didn’t come back to her cabin on the ship last night.” He’d checked four times. Neither she nor the sword had been there.

  “She was doing something with Sardelle last night in the artifact room.”

  “Artifact room?” He had been hoping she had been resting, so she had all her wits and energy about her today if she needed them.

  “Upstairs, by Colonel Therrik’s office.”

  “Thank you.”

  Tylie dropped back to the floor and picked up her paintbrush again. By the time Tolemek stepped into the hallway, she was already at work.

  When he got to the top of the stairs, he paused at a room with a closed door and familiar voices speaking behind it. He knocked, deciding he might as well drop off the formulas.

  “Tolemek,” Zirkander said, his face far too bright and cheerful for the hour. “Do you have bullets for me?”

  “Not yet, but they’re coming. In the meantime, here. Knock yourself out.” He smirked as he pulled out the vials he’d created. He also tried to see who else was in the room behind Zirkander. He glimpsed Ort and Sardelle and Phelistoth, but couldn’t tell if there was anyone else. He tried not to let it gall him that a dragon had been invited to a secret meeting instead of him.

  A sword too, Jaxi said brightly. Just remember. Everyone who comes to the meeting gets knocked out, so you don’t really want to be in here.

  Phelistoth too?

  Almost everyone.

  It must be nice to be special.

  It is.

  Zirkander accepted the vials. “No grenades?”

  “I didn’t think you needed it to be that dramatic. Just lie on a cot and inhale the contents.”

  “Thank you. Bullets next, please. I’d like to get my flier ready as soon as possible. With bullets to eat through dragon hides.”

  There he went, once again thinking Tolemek was a pharmacy—or in this case, an armory—that could deliver the impossible, as if he was filling a simple order. “You crash in this storm, and those bullets could break open and eat through you.”

  “We’re not assuming anything, but we’re hoping the dragon won’t come until tomorrow. Or next week. Or never.”

  “Right.” Tolemek let himself be waved away.

  The door thunked shut, and he continued down the hallway, searching for the artifact room. All of the doors were closed, so he started poking his nose into the ones near the office at the end. Snores came from most of the dark rooms, soldiers sacked out on blankets and on cots. The last room to the left was quiet, but not dark.

  At a large table near a window, a familiar form with short, tousled hair slumped across a book, her arm stretched out and her head pillowed on it. Warmth spread through him, pleasure at finding her, but why hadn’t she gone to bed? If not to his, as he would wish, then at least to her own?

  He didn’t think he made any noise, but Cas jerked awake as soon as he stepped into the room. She looked at him, but also looked to his side. Tolemek grimaced. Kasandral’s box leaned against the wall there. Of course it made sense that she was keeping the sword close, but he worried its presence meant she would be grumpy with him.

  “Morning.” He stopped a few feet into the room. “I wanted to check on you.”

  She groaned, glancing at the window. “Is it morning already?” She stared bleakly at a paper in front of her. “I’m not sure I have these memorized yet.”

  “What are they?” He resisted the urge to come closer and to sit beside her.

  “Command phrases for Kasandral. Like the one the queen used to make me… that let the sword take over.”

  “I hope you’re not memorizing that one.” He smiled.

  “No. Well, yes, in case I need it against the dragon. I wouldn’t use it with you around. Or Sardelle or Tylie.” She bit her lip and eyed him up and down. “You look like a lion that fell in the river.”

  A lion? At least she had chosen a mighty animal for the comparison. He felt like a drowned rat.

  “There’s enough rain falling out there to fill a few rivers.” He nodded toward the water streaming down the window.

  “You can come over if you want. I won’t… I mean, I’ll try not to be… snippy.” Cas touched the lines on her page. “There’s one I can use to tell Kasandral to back down. Jaxi said he’s like an attack dog. Sardelle translated all of the commands listed in this book, and I’m trying to memorize the ones most likely to be useful.”

  “Sounds like a good idea.” Despite the invitation, he walked across the room and around the table slowly.

  Cas pushed out the chair next to hers. “I’ve got the back-down command memorized well. I’m working on one that tells it to guard me but not initiate any attacks. It’s hard because the words are gobbledygook to me, and I have to pronounce them correctly. Sardelle wrote down the phonetic spellings, but I’m afraid I’ll forget how to say them when I need them.”

  “You won’t.” Tolemek slid into the chair she’d offered. “But I can help you practice if you want. Maybe we can come up with some mnemonic memory devices.”

  “Devices?” Her nose crinkled, making her face even cuter than usual. Not that she would appreciate being called cute, he was sure.

  “Tricks to help with memorizing things.” He thought about reaching out to brush his fingers through her hair. After her awkward sleeping position, several tufts stuck up.

  “What?” She touched her head. “Is it a mess?”

  “No worse than mine.”

  Her eyes widened. “That bad?”

  Pleased by her humor, he smirked and ruffled her hair.

  “That’s not going to help it.” She swatted at his hands, but didn’t try hard to stop him.

  He switched to smoothing it, and she lowered her arms and let him. Her eyes twinkled, and an ache of longing filled his heart. It had been a long time since that twinkle had been there. Maybe learning the commands gave her more courage, less reason to fear the sword—and her past.

  Cas closed her eyes and leaned into his hand. He switched from stroking her hair to rubbing the back of her neck.

  “I’ve missed you,” he whispered.

  “I know.” She sounded sad.

  He didn’t want her to feel sad around him. He wanted her to enjoy being with him, not to feel guilty about it. But he didn’t know how to say that, so he kept massaging the back of her neck, hoping she would understand.

  “That feels good,” she whispered.

  “Good,” Tolemek said and wished it didn’t sound so inane. He ought to say something clever and charming, something to make her realize how much she had missed him, something to convince her she should be with him, always.

  “I don’t know if it’s right for me to feel good anymore,” Cas said, “but I’m tired of b
eing alone and punishing myself.”

  “I understand. Do you know that humans are the only animals that do that? Punish themselves?” He sifted his fingers through her fine hair, scraping his nails across her scalp.

  A contented sigh escaped from her lips. “What do your snakes and lizards do when they’ve made a massive mistake?”

  “They learn from it, don’t do it again, and then move on. Animals live in the present; they don’t dwell in the past.”

  “Must be nice to be an animal.”

  “If you don’t mind spending your life in a terrarium and having a mad scientist milk you for your venom.”

  Cas lifted her head to look in his eyes. “You’re not mad. You’re one of the sanest people I’ve met.”

  “That’s because you spend so much time with those crazy pilots.”

  “Possibly so.” Cas reached out and tugged at the flap of his jacket. “You must be cold. You should get out of those wet clothes.”

  He blinked a few times, not certain if she was suggesting what he thought, though hope rose within him that she was. “Here?” he whispered.

  The twinkle in her eyes had changed to something else, something less playful and more intense. “It’s early. We’re alone.”

  “Except for your sword.”

  Thanks to her description, he was now imagining a dog standing in the corner with its hackles up, staring at them and growling.

  “I’ll make him be good.” Her fingers tightened on his jacket, and she pulled him closer.

  It didn’t take him more than a second to warm up to the idea of shucking his clothing, sword observer or not, and he was the one to lean down, pressing his mouth to hers. She kissed him back, eagerly, hungrily, as if she had wanted this for weeks. He let himself hope that she had simply been punishing herself because she felt the situation demanded it. As they kissed, he threaded his fingers through her short, soft hair, tugging gently at the ends, remembering that she liked that. He wanted to make her feel human, to enjoy experiencing pleasure again.

  She eased off her chair and slid her leg over his, sitting on his lap and facing him. He slid his hands from her hair to her back, slipping them under her jacket to run his fingers over her warm skin.

  “You’re wet,” Cas whispered against his lips. She tugged at the buttons on his sodden shirt.

  “Yeah, it’s supposed to be the other way around, isn’t it?”

  She snorted. “And you’re naughty.”

  “Not that naughty. I didn’t bring sponges.” Though he would have preferred to see her topless, he helped with his own shirt, agreeing that this would be much more pleasurable if his damp clothes didn’t lie between them.

  “We can try them next time.”

  Neither of them mentioned that if the battle did not go well, there might not be a next time.

  She pushed his shirt off his shoulders, and he shrugged it the rest of the way off, then grasped her hips and lifted her onto the edge of the table. He pushed his chair back so he could tug the rest of his clothing off. As much as he enjoyed having her in his lap, he would like it much more once they were naked and sharing the… He frowned, his gaze going to the table. Someone had neglected to put any cots or blankets in this room.

  “Is this going to be all right?” he asked. “Or do you want to find someplace more comfortable?”

  Cas unbuttoned her uniform jacket, her gaze locked onto his bare chest as she did so, her lips parted. His heart swelled at the realization that she was admiring him and enjoying the view. He stepped closer, sliding his arms around her again, helping her remove the jacket.

  “Where would that be?” she asked, tugging off her shirt and bra.

  He gazed at her naked form and almost forgot the question. “Uhm, the airship? My lab?”

  “So far away.” She gripped the back of his head and kissed him hard.

  “True,” he mumbled against her mouth, returning the kiss eagerly. He pushed down his trousers and struggled to get his boots off without taking his hands from her. He might have fallen over if not for her support, the appeal of her kisses drawing him like a magnet.

  “Besides,” she murmured, leaning back on the table and pulling him down with her. “You’re helping me memorize things.”

  “Yes. I am. Did you know it’s easier to remember things when you’re relaxed and enjoying yourself?”

  “Is it? That’s useful.”

  “Very.”

  They smiled, papers crinkling under them as they stopped talking and focused on enjoying themselves.

  • • • • •

  “This plan is abysmal,” Phelistoth said. “I will not go along with it.”

  Ridge leaned back in his chair, wishing the coffee could somehow invigorate him enough to make dealing with uptight dragons easier. He couldn’t see a clock, but knew this meeting had been going on for hours. Part of that was because they were waiting for Kaika to finish up, but part of the problem was their recalcitrant ally. Ridge looked at Sardelle, who sat opposite him and beside General Ort. She merely shrugged back at him.

  “Why?” General Ort asked.

  “You would give him the repository that I seek.”

  “The plan isn’t to give it to him, but to turn it into bait, to lure him into the mountain, which we’ll collapse with explosives as soon as he’s down there. It’s my understanding that you barely survived the cave-in down there, and that was only a couple of levels of rock coming down. If we can drop even more…”

  “Then the repository will be buried down there forever,” Phelistoth said.

  “We can dig down and get it later. Along with that soulblade you were eyeing for Tylie.”

  Phelistoth paused, looking abashed that he had forgotten about that.

  Maybe we can even find a different soulblade that’s closer to the surface, Sardelle murmured into Ridge’s thoughts. An Iskandian one.

  Phelistoth turned a baleful stare onto her. Ridge shuddered inwardly, reminded that he probably knew all of their thoughts and that Morishtomaric would too.

  Your plan could work, Sardelle reassured him. If he doesn’t notice Kaika and sift through her thoughts.

  She has to stay awake to detonate the bombs.

  I know. He shouldn’t be aware of her. Jaxi and Phelistoth would be too hard for him to read, and if we’re unconscious, you’re right in that the information would be inaccessible, so long as we’re not dreaming about it.

  Ridge hadn’t considered that, and a feeling of bleakness burned in his stomach like acid. Would his dreams betray him?

  You’ll be fine. Think of something else before falling asleep.

  Ridge held her gaze across the table, trying not to worry, since she was monitoring him and then she might worry. He wriggled his eyebrows and feigned nonchalance. Such as a sexy woman who can survive even impossible situations?

  That’s not what I was going to think about, but whatever you want to tantalize the dragon with. Sardelle smiled though it did not reach her eyes. She had been more reserved than usual since being pulled from the mines.

  Once this is resolved, Ridge thought, guessing at part of what bothered her, I’ll have someone dig into the records to see if any more of the inmates were accused of witchcraft before they were brought here.

  She had shared what had happened down in the mine, telling him about the men who had tried to save her and the one who had died doing it. He could understand why she would be disturbed, and it saddened him, too, to know that someone who had wanted to help her had been punished for it. There were precious few people around who wanted to help a sorceress.

  I know you will, Sardelle responded. Thank you.

  General Ort cleared his throat, and Ridge realized some time had passed since he had spoken out loud.

  “All we need you to do,” Ridge said, trying to draw Phelistoth’s attention back, “is to tell him its location when he shows up. Sardelle said—well, she believes that you can keep Morishtomaric from knowing your thoughts.”

&nb
sp; “Of course I can.”

  “So if you tell him about the crystal, he won’t be able to look into your mind and see that there are explosives down there. We’ll put ourselves to sleep, so he can’t pry into our minds and find out through us.” Ridge was particularly worried that the dragon would poke into his mind, since he was the one who had made the deal.

  “He will not be so foolish,” Phelistoth said. “He will sense the trap.”

  “How?”

  “Why else would I give him this information when I covet the same thing that he does?”

  “Perhaps,” Sardelle said, “you’ve changed your mind. After he’s beaten you twice in battle, you’ve decided it’s best to join forces with him.”

  “He did not beat me twice,” Phelistoth growled.

  “We’re including the time he chased you out of our yard, leaving a flaming couch in your wake,” Ridge said.

  Ort sighed. Whether it was because they had to argue with a dragon or out of lament for the lost couch, Ridge did not ask.

  “I led him away intentionally so Tylie would not be harmed,” Phelistoth said stiffly.

  “All right, but listen. If you assist us by fibbing to him, we’ll help you retrieve whatever you want from the mountain. It may take us a while, but we’ll do it.” Ridge imagined how happy Therrik would feel about such an assignment, but after attacking Sardelle, he deserved it.

  “I don’t need your help.”

  “Are you certain of that?” Sardelle asked mildly.

  Phelistoth sighed with far more dramatic flair than Ort had. He stared down at his feet, or maybe he was staring toward Tylie’s room and communicating with her.

  When seconds drifted into minutes without a change in pose, Ridge got up to pour himself another cup of coffee. He wondered if Cas and Kasandral had ever left the artifact room—Sardelle had left her studying there the night before, which hadn’t been all that many hours ago. Maybe Ridge could find the sword and use it to prod Phelistoth into motion.

  I wouldn’t go in there, Jaxi thought.

  Oh? Why?

  Last I checked, Cas and her pirate were doing untoward things to a table in there. They weren’t even concerned that there was a priceless, thousand-year-old book under them.