Unraveled: Heritage of Power, Book 4

by Buroker, Lindsay

  Rysha had no trouble reading that expression, that he didn’t like the idea of having the stasis chambers out in the open, even if there was a blanket covering what they were. By now, half the city probably had a description of his wagon and knew how much of a reward was being offered for it. And more than half the city seemed to know about the chapaharii swords.

  “Let’s head there now.” Kaika nodded toward the far side of the pit, to a man in white gazing down at them from the edge. “We’re easy targets down here.”

  “I can find us a way out,” Trip said, but he didn’t move immediately. He pinned the white-clad man with a stare. Their eyes met and held. After several seconds, the man turned and walked out of sight.

  “Mental manipulation?” Rysha asked quietly.

  “Yes. It works on some people.” Trip glanced at Horis, the gesture surprising Rysha.

  Horis wasn’t paying attention. He’d pulled out a book and was flipping through it.

  “I believe I have a map somewhere that lists the depths at various locations in the harbor,” Horis said. “Perhaps it would be helpful.”

  “Perhaps,” Rysha said, though Trip had already told her the sword had fallen in a spot two hundred feet deep.

  Horis beamed a smile at her. He certainly seemed eager to please.

  “My mental suggestion won’t last for long,” Trip said, turning his back on them and waving his hand to lift the wagon up to float over the rubble.

  Rysha and Kaika headed after him. Presumably, he could lead them out of the pit—or float them to the streets above.

  Horis, not obviously disturbed by this show of magic, strolled over the rocks as if they were as easy to walk on as pavement, and he whistled as he perused an atlas.

  * * *

  “That is more than personal cargo,” the steamer’s first mate said, waving at the wagon, though he kept glancing at the smoke and dust cloud hovering over a certain block in the city. The captain and numerous crew members were on the deck of the large iron ship, also studying the dubious horizon. “If we can find room for it, it’ll cost extra.”

  Kaika made a point of not looking in that direction. Trip and Rysha were doing the same thing. Horis seemed oblivious to it all and was still studying the atlas. If he truly thought he could help retrieve Dorfindral, Rysha would be happy to let him do so. She didn’t see how Trip could build a submarine today, especially since he would leave soon for his lunch date. Who knew how long that would take? And should she go with him to stand guard?

  She wanted to keep an eye on Trip—she didn’t trust Grekka one bit—but she also felt obligated to retrieve her sword. The last thing she wanted was to report to King Angulus that she’d lost one of the country’s most valuable resources.

  “Cost extra?” Kaika jammed a fist against her hip. “You already want to charge us a fortune just to spend an extra night on your boat.”

  “We are a shipping business, ma’am, not a passenger transport. Space is at a premium, reserved for cargos that can bring us a return.” The first mate, a dark-skinned man with curly black hair, pointed at the hazy cityscape. “Do you know what happened up there? We’ve heard everything from a dragon attack to Cofah or Iskandian bombs.”

  “Why would Isk—another country want to bomb your city?” Rysha asked.

  According to the country flag painted on the hull alongside the steamer’s name, Cyan Rooster, it claimed Rakgorath as its homeland.

  “To take it over and add it to their collection of colonies, no doubt.”

  “Look, we’ll give you five extra nucros,” Kaika said. “That’s it. The cargo can stay in our cabin.”

  “Cabin?” The first mate lifted shaggy black eyebrows.

  “Don’t we get a cabin?”

  “Passengers sleep in the hold. There are hammocks.”

  “You’re charging us five hundred nucros for hammocks? On a voyage that’s only three days?”

  “You’re welcome to talk with the other captains here if you find our fares unpalatable.” The first mate extended a hand to encompass the rest of the docks. A few local fishing ships occupied slots, but there weren’t any other vessels that traveled across international waters.

  “Funny,” Kaika said.

  “Here’s the map of the harbor I mentioned,” Horis said, coming to stand next to Rysha, his shoulder brushing hers.

  She nodded and looked, but she also eased a few inches away so they weren’t touching. Her sister might have mooned over him a few years back, but Rysha had no interest in the nobleman.

  “It should be useful,” she said, not mentioning that Trip could sense the chapaharii blade down there and point them to the exact spot. They had already spoken too openly about magic in front of Horis.

  “I have many useful resources,” Horis said, smiling at her.

  Rysha caught herself staring back at his gaze, noticing how lively and appealing his warm copper eyes were, and how nicely they matched his hair. Had his hair always been that richly colored? She couldn’t remember.

  “Perhaps you’ll see fit to share your books with me eventually. I do so love books. Especially old ones from far off places.” His smile seemed genuine, and he radiated enthusiasm, but a warning bell clanged in the back of Rysha’s mind.

  This was the second time he’d seemed certain she had texts along that he wanted to see, as if he knew she had a couple of journals in her pack. She didn’t see how he could. She hadn’t taken them out in his presence, and as far as she knew, they weren’t magical, so they shouldn’t be giving off any kind of aura.

  “If you visit my family’s manor sometime when we’re both back in Iskandia,” Rysha said, “I’d be happy to show you all the books my mother has collected. As you know, she’s the real archaeologist in the family. She sometimes trades some of our family winery’s best vintages for rare historical astronomy and mathematics books. Those are her favorite subjects.”

  “Ah, yes. I appreciate the invitation.” Horis looked like he might say more, but he turned as Trip walked up to them.

  Trip’s expression was flat and hard to read. Rysha hoped he hadn’t heard her invitation to Horis. She hadn’t meant it to sound like she was extending an offer of friendship—or anything else. She’d simply wanted to veer Horis’s interest away from her pack and whatever he thought she had in it.

  It was hard to believe he knew about the journal from the old exploration team, but even if he did, why would he want it? He hadn’t been ogling the stasis chambers or even paying attention to them, so she didn’t think he was aware of or interested in Agarrenon Shivar’s offspring.

  “While Major Kaika negotiates our fare, I’m going to my meeting.” Trip was being deliberately vague, Rysha suspected, and he looked at her, not including Horis in the conversation. “I want to arrive early enough to check for trouble.”

  “A good idea, but don’t you think that Kaika or I should go with you?”

  “Major Kaika appears to be busy.” Trip looked at the argument still going on between her and the first mate. There was a lot of fist waving. “And you have something important to retrieve.”

  “That can wait. Besides, you haven’t built me my submarine yet.”

  She meant it as a joke, but he winced.

  “I apologize. I’ve been trying to think about solutions, but there have been distractions.” Trip didn’t look at Horis specifically, but did let his gaze brush over him as he turned toward the smoke above the cityscape—those explosions must have started some fires. “I had a discussion with my friends—” he tapped the soulblade hilts, again being vague, though Horis seemed educated enough to know what they were, “—and actually think I could hold my breath long enough to get to the bottom, grab something with iron tongs, and get back up.”

  “That seems highly unlikely.”

  Trip arched his eyebrows.

  Rysha pushed her spectacles higher on her nose. “It’s true that the natives on Jonga Junga use weighted stones to descend up to a hundred feet—they colle
ct the soft sea sponges unique to their island chain and trade them around the world—but they also practice diving a lot. Visiting explorers have timed them, and many can hold their breath for five minutes, long enough to drop down and cut the sponges off the bottom. Five minutes, Trip. At one hundred feet. If you want, I can calculate how long it would take you to descend to two hundred feet and pluck something off the bottom with tongs, but I can’t imagine you holding your breath that long.”

  She reached for her pack so she could pull out pencil and paper, but Trip stopped her by resting his fingers on her wrist.

  “I wasn’t planning to do it without help,” he said, tapping a soulblade hilt again. “But I have no problem with you cogitating on alternative methods while I’m gone. If you can retrieve it without my help, I’m certainly willing to forgo getting wet again.” Trip looked like he wanted to give her more than a wrist touch in parting, but he glanced at Horis and lowered his hand. “I’ll be back soon.”

  Rysha, her mind busy running gravity calculations, didn’t notice Trip leaving until he had already crossed the waterfront street into the city.

  Trip, you have a death wish, she thought after him.

  No, he surprised her by replying. I just like being rescued by beautiful, mathematically inclined women. Do try to avoid being shot in the process the next time you rescue me. I don’t like seeing you bleeding.

  And I don’t like having your sword incinerate things that are inside of me.

  I’m sure your body is working that lead out of your system as we speak.

  We’re not going to talk about excretions again, are we?

  No, I don’t want to distract you further from your math equations. Trip sent an image along with the words—actually, it was more of a sensation—of him pressing his lips to hers. A tingle went through her body as if he were right there.

  After that, math wasn’t what she had on her mind. She glanced to the side and found Horis gazing at her. He couldn’t know what she’d been thinking, but she blushed anyway, afraid she’d had some dreamy—or lustful—expression on her face.

  “You can use my pencil if you like.” Horis lifted the one he kept behind his ear and offered it to her.

  “What?”

  “For your equation.”

  “Oh, thank you.” Rysha lifted a hand, intending to wave away the offer, but Kaika was still arguing with the first mate, so why not?

  It would only take a moment to factor in gravity and buoyant force to estimate how long it would take Trip to descend if he had a weight dragging him down. She had no idea if magic could grant him the ability to hold his breath longer than average, but she could help him by figuring out the numbers. Maybe she should run them on herself too. She’d been the idiot who dropped the sword, and she wouldn’t need special tongs to pick it up if she went down. She would be more buoyant than he was, thanks to more squishy curves and less muscle, but if the soulblades could help him hold his breath, maybe they could also help her?

  She accepted Horis’s pencil and was surprised when a little charge of electricity seemed to go through her when their fingers touched. She looked at him, suspecting him of doing something, but he merely lowered his hand and gazed at her blandly.

  She’d always felt a charge when Trip touched her and assumed it was part of the chemistry they had. Feeling a tingle from a relative stranger’s touch made her uneasy. She knew some of her body’s attraction to Trip came from his dragonness, his scylori, but Horis couldn’t have that, could he? Trip and the soulblades would have sensed it if he had dragon blood, and they hadn’t said anything about that to her.

  Besides, she knew him and knew his family. She’d never heard rumors of them being accused of witchcraft.

  Even if he did have dragon blood and somehow was trained as a sorcerer, what would he be doing here, poking through ruins and wanting to join Moe Zirkander on a treasure hunt? Unless that was all a ruse, and he’d come looking for their team because he wanted something. If he had, what could it be? That journal? He hadn’t asked about it specifically, but he did seem to think she had books he wanted to see. Would a sorcerer need to physically hold a book to read it? Couldn’t he just see into her pack with his mind?

  “I’m not a poor mathematician,” Horis said, his gaze innocent as she scrutinized him. “If you would like to run your answers past me, I would be happy to double check them.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you.”

  “All right, Lieutenant,” Kaika said, walking over. “We and our cargo can board early.”

  The first mate stood behind her, smiling as he counted coins.

  Kaika should have asked Trip to use his mental manipulation skills on the man to see if they could get a better deal. Then again, Trip probably would have objected to that. He hadn’t hidden his qualms about using those powers, and Rysha didn’t mind. She admired him for questioning whether or not he should do things he was able to do.

  “I see our cargo hauler isn’t around to help get it on board and unload it,” Kaika grumbled, scowling in the direction Trip had gone, then turning her scowl on Horis. “We’re not paying your way, nobleman.”

  “I would never ask such a thing, Major. I am here for a meeting, as you’ll recall.” Horis tilted his head. “However, it is still two hours away. Lady Ravenwood, shall I join you on the ship and help you with calculations for retrieving this item that is of value to you?”

  Rysha hesitated. Could he help her? Truly?

  As he gazed into her eyes, she found herself forgetting her earlier skepticism about him and nodding slowly.

  “We can get it without you,” Kaika said.

  “I do not mind helping. Let me see if the first mate will allow me aboard to visit with you or if I also must pay a fare.” Horis walked over to the man.

  “Ravenwood,” Kaika said in exasperation, “have you given him a firm no?”

  “Ma’am?” All Rysha could imagine Kaika referred to was Horis’s interest in the journals, but Kaika hadn’t been close enough to hear those subtle requests, had she?

  “That you don’t want to have sex with him. I assume you don’t. You seem content with your perky pilot.”

  “Of course I don’t, ma’am.”

  “Then you better let him know so he stops trailing you like a faithful hound.”

  “He’s not trailing me.”

  “Well, he’s not trailing me. And he’s definitely been studying your ass and chest, not Trip’s.”

  Rysha’s cheeks warmed again. “I don’t think that’s what he wants.”

  “Trust me, he wants you.”

  “I mean, I don’t think that’s why he’s sticking with us. I’m the one who asked to come to the harbor with him to meet Moe. But aside from that…” Rysha lowered her voice. “I believe he may have figured out I took a journal from the man in that exploration party who died in the dragon lair. I don’t know how—I didn’t tell anyone except our team. But he’s hinted that he’d like to see what’s in my pack.”

  “I’ll bet.”

  “Ma’am.” Rysha was irritated that Kaika kept suggesting Horis wanted a sexual relationship with her, mostly because she was positive he wanted something else. She knew she wasn’t ugly, but it usually took a unique man to appreciate her physical assets. A man who didn’t think her odd when she got excited by the idea of creating instruction manuals for magical swords.

  “Just pay attention, Lieutenant. Being oblivious to things like that can get you in trouble.” Kaika jerked her thumb toward the wagon. “Now help me move our cargo, hopefully for the last time. At least until we get to Iskandia.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  14

  Trip eyed the restaurant atop the rooftop of a hotel from the street below. Cheerful yellow-and-orange-striped sun umbrellas provided shade for those dining above while girls and boys wandered from table to table with fans to further cool off the patrons. A decorative wrought-iron railing surrounding the rooftop had barbs and spikes subtly incorporated int
o the pattern.

  Trip supposed the diners wouldn’t want the riffraff from the streets climbing up to assault them while they ate. Not that such events seemed likely. He had traveled three miles inland to reach this neighborhood, far from the rough areas where he’d thus far spent time, and there were steam carriages and rickshaws waiting in front of the building, the drivers polishing their conveyances or their own shoes while they waited.

  Think they’ll let me in? Trip asked doubtfully.

  Use your scylori and command them to let you enter, Azarwrath said. You are the son of a dragon. If you wish to dine at a restaurant, you shall do so.

  Or he could just brush his hair and rub the soot off his face, Jaxi put in. He doesn’t look too disreputable now that he’s changed into a shirt that doesn’t reveal all of his chest and abdomen.

  Rysha liked that shirt. Trip licked his fingers and rubbed his face, hoping to clean off any lingering soot, then scraped his fingers through his hair. Dust and shards of rock tumbled free.

  No, she liked being able to see what was under the shirt. No woman would find a shredded, bloodstained shirt appealing.

  The sorceress Grekka is seated on the left side of the restaurant, Azarwrath said. At a table by herself, drinking what appears to be a dark red wine. A cabernet? Does this benighted land have vineyards somewhere? The food at the other tables looks half-promising. Telryn, I insist that you sample a number of the culinary offerings within. If there is an actual chef… My palate has longed for good-tasting food for ages.

  I see you’re putting a lot of effort into checking for traps, Jaxi said.

  There are two chefs in the kitchen. And a dessert chef. Telryn, you must order a dessert. I wonder what the local specialty is. Please, nothing with cactus pads.

  Fine, I’ll look for the traps, Jaxi said.

  I sense one of those magical creatures nearby, Trip said, his own senses extended, not just to the restaurant but to the streets and buildings around it. Actually, I sensed its gem controller first, but I believe it’s one of the winged lions. It’s atop the roof behind the restaurant. I suppose that’s more of a turret.