Oaths (Dragon Blood, Book 8)

by Lindsay Buroker

  Another time, Cas might have asked how the day had gone and what she’d found to shoot at while she was out there. But not now. She climbed into her cockpit, powered up the craft, and ran through a quick check.

  Thankfully, the others finished what they were doing—or eating—and pulled themselves into their own cockpits. Pimples and Duck took their one-seaters, and Kaika pulled herself into a two-seater with Blazer. Cas rubbed the triggers of her machine guns, hoping she got a chance to shoot the kidnappers who had blown up Tolemek’s lab.

  “Are we certain Tolemek is in Ambergull?” Blazer asked over the communication crystal as Cas guided her flier toward the open doors, taking the lead.

  “Not certain, ma’am, no.”

  “Too bad. I know Pimples is concerned that his special cream will run out, and there’ll be nobody around to resupply him.”

  “That would be tragic,” Duck said. “That Cofah princess might stop writing him letters if she knew what he really looked like.”

  “He could always apply some makeup,” Blazer said, “to hide his pimply-ness. Women have been doing that for ages.”

  “Makeup could only improve his face,” Duck said.

  “The wit in this hangar is almost as sharp as the edge of a spoon,” Pimples said.

  A soft drizzle fell as Cas sailed off the butte and into the air. Eddies tugged at her wings, but she had no trouble turning south as soon as she had some altitude. She passed over the hangars and then the lighthouses, stone hotels, and manors perched along the rocky coast.

  “Captain, you got your wedding present picked out for the general and Sardelle yet?” Duck asked.

  “I got a pattern picked out,” Blazer said.

  “You going to knit Sardelle some boxing gloves, so she can pummel the general when needed?”

  “Nah, making them something useful for the house.”

  “What?”

  “You’ll see it if you visit for one of the general’s barbecues and consume the typical amount of beer and sarsaparilla,” Blazer said.

  “That clue doesn’t help me as much as you might have thought,” Duck said.

  “That’s all you’re getting. I don’t want to ruin the surprise. You’ll have to come up with your own gift idea.”

  “I had an idea, but Pimples said Sardelle wouldn’t like it.”

  “I believe I said nobody would like it,” Pimples muttered.

  “It was hilarious. General Zirkander would love it. I may still go back and get it.”

  Kaika said something from the back seat that Cas didn’t hear.

  Blazer responded with, “They don’t need another cat.”

  “…lonely.”

  “Two cats make more cats.”

  “…can happen anyway… neighbor cats.”

  Cas caught herself glancing over her shoulder as the team flew down the coast, hoping to spot Zirkander on the horizon. He wouldn’t put an end to silly conversations, but at least this one might end.

  Fortunately, it fizzled off on its own. A few more debates came up over the course of the flight, and some of the light faded from the gray cloudy sky. Somewhere behind those clouds, the sun sank toward the horizon.

  Cas spotted the river mouth that marked Ambergull and stirred in her seat.

  “Anyone know where our dragon allies are?” Pimples asked. “I bet they’d have an easier time finding Tolemek.”

  “I believe Tylie and Phelistoth are out looking for him,” Cas said when nobody else answered.

  “I believe Bhrava Saruth is lounging on his new island and sighing in delight as workers prepare to break ground,” came Zirkander’s voice over the crystal.

  “Sir.” Duck twisted in his seat. “How far back are you?”

  “About fifteen miles behind you, Jaxi tells me.” Zirkander paused. “She also tells me that Bhrava Saruth isn’t actually in the city. She’s not sure where either dragon is.”

  “Collecting more worshippers, no doubt,” Blazer said.

  “Phelistoth doesn’t collect worshippers,” Zirkander said. “He doesn’t even like people.”

  “Just what you want to hear about your ally dragon.”

  “He’s less an ally and more the dragon that’s living here while Tylie does her sorceress training.”

  “So, the delusional dragon who thinks he’s a god is our only true ally?” Blazer asked.

  “Likely so.”

  “Comforting.”

  Cas turned her flier to head up the river. In a few miles, Ambergull would come into sight. “Can Sardelle or Jaxi tell if Tolemek is in the city from where you are, sir?”

  After a pause, Zirkander answered. “Not yet.”

  Cas hoped that meant they were simply too far away to detect people, not that Tolemek wasn’t there.

  She headed in, not intending to wait for the others.

  The hawk was sleeping. At least, its eyes were closed. Whenever Tolemek shifted, clanking his chains too loudly, the oversized bird would open one yellow eye to look balefully at him.

  Tolemek sat, leaning his back against a bench built into a bulkhead—he was now positive he was on a ship, even though it surprised him that he couldn’t feel the waves rocking it at all. His chained ankles kept him from going far—he’d barely managed to reach the pot that he assumed had been left for biological needs. He’d also been left water, but no food. Judging by the pitiful whines coming from his stomach, it had been some time since he’d been kidnapped.

  The room—cabin—he had been chained in seemed to be a compact mess hall, with the table and benches taking up much of the space. He could see built-in cabinets against the bulkheads near the ceiling, but with his ankles chained to the base of the table, he couldn’t reach them. Too bad. He would have liked to look for some lubricant that might let him slip free. Assuming nobody had left the key lying around.

  He wished he had a way to communicate with Tylie or Cas over a long range. As far as he knew, nobody knew where he was or where to look for him. If he was indeed in a boat, he could be halfway to Dakrovia by now. He hoped not. Maybe the ship remained near the coast of Iskandia, meaning there was hope for escape. If Yendray wanted dragon blood, he might even still be lurking near the capital.

  Tolemek lifted his shackles, looking at them with his eyes and also examining them for weaknesses with his mind. He wished he’d spent more time working with Sardelle, training to learn how to apply his magic to more than making formulas. Being able to bend or break or melt metal would be a handy skill to have now.

  Soft scratches came from the hawk when Tolemek used his senses, its talons on the back of its chair as it adjusted its position. Both of its eyes were open now. Had the creature felt him using a hint of magic? Would it warn its master?

  Tolemek’s stomach growled. Wasn’t there a kidnapping rule about feeding one’s captives?

  The hatch creaked open, and Yendray walked in carrying a paper sack and wearing different headwear from last time, a brimmed hat with a green feather sticking out at an angle.

  “Fresh snacks,” Yendray announced, hefting the sack.

  The hawk squawked, the piercing noise echoing in the mostly metal cabin.

  Tolemek’s stomach growled again, though he didn’t have high hopes for food that came in a crinkled and stained brown sack.

  Yendray switched to his native tongue to murmur sweet nothings to the hawk. He withdrew something as he approached. Was that a dead mouse?

  He tossed it to the hawk, and the giant bird flapped its wings and caught it. The tail of the furry gray snack was rigid. Definitely a dead mouse. Very dead.

  The hawk gobbled it down, but also croaked something that sounded vaguely like a protest.

  “Sorry, my friend. I don’t know where to acquire live ones here. Unless the scientist over there can suggest a place.”

  “To acquire live rodents in the capital? Yes, I get them for my snakes. I can tell you the name and address of my supplier if you’ll simply let me go.”

  “We’re not i
n the capital now. We had to leave last night when someone came looking for you. I hadn’t realized Iskandia was endowed with many mages, but I definitely sensed someone searching for us. Fortunately, I have the ability to hide our presence—and yours too. But we left the area in case a further search was forthcoming. Also, I have a package to pick up.” Yendray smiled and touched his hat.

  That explained why Yendray hadn’t returned the night before to interrogate Tolemek. They must have been moving the craft from the capital or somewhere near it to… wherever they were now.

  “Where are we?” Tolemek asked. “I might still be able to recommend a rat supplier.”

  “Hm, even though I’ve built some magic-dampening elements into this boat, I’d hate to have you telepathically tell someone. It’s much better to keep you in the dark. At least until you tell me where I can find that dragon blood.”

  “I told you I don’t know.”

  “And I’m positive you’re lying. But we’ll find out soon enough.” Yendray dipped a hand into a pocket and pulled out a vial.

  Tolemek grimaced, disgusted with himself because he hadn’t found a way to escape from this man yet. Simple iron chains should not be able to hold a scientist. Even if they had been designed to thwart dragon-blooded magic users. If he could access a cabinet with a few chemicals in it, he could surely come up with a way to escape them.

  “Something that needs to be ingested?” Tolemek eyed the liquid in the vial. “Or simply inhaled?”

  He had never managed to make a truth serum strong enough to work without the target ingesting it. If this odd man had accomplished what he hadn’t, he would be irked.

  “You’re welcome to breathe it in, and we can test how effective a few fumes are,” Yendray said, “but I’ve always had to throw a few drops in people’s mouths to get it to work.”

  “I hope you’re not expecting me to open up and show you my tonsils.”

  “Not even if I add it to something tasty to eat?” Yendray shook the brown bag.

  “Like a dead rat?”

  “Brukko likes them. Admittedly, not as much as the living ones. Do remind me to question you on the location of a good purveyor of live mice.”

  “Right. I’ll be sure to do that.” Tolemek glowered as the Dakrovian stepped closer, his earlier thoughts returning to mind, that if he blabbed the location of the vials and Angulus found out, the king might kick him out of Iskandia, leaving him once again without a home. Without Cas. She loved her job, and he couldn’t imagine her leaving it and all her friends for him. He couldn’t imagine himself asking her to.

  Yendray bent, and Tolemek shifted his weight, hoping for an opportunity to thwart his captor. Since he was still chained to the table, he wouldn’t be able to spring at the man, but if Yendray bent down, Tolemek could grab him and—

  Power flattened Tolemek to the deck like a two-ton invisible weight settling atop him. Abruptly, it was difficult to even breathe, much less think of attacking.

  “The iron chains should limit your use of power somewhat,” Yendray commented. “They do not affect mine.”

  Tolemek growled. It was all he could manage.

  Yendray removed the cap of his vial. The greenish brown liquid inside looked about as appealing as mud.

  “Now, if you’ll be so kind as to open your lips for me. No?”

  Tolemek clenched his teeth.

  It didn’t matter. Yendray twitched a finger with his free hand, and some magical force shoved Tolemek’s jaws apart.

  Fear rushed through Tolemek, and he wondered if this man was more powerful than Sardelle. If so, what would happen if she found Yendray and confronted him?

  Yendray tipped the vial to pour in a few drops. Tolemek tried to jerk his head to the side but didn’t manage to move it more than a half inch. The viscous liquid struck his tongue.

  It was surprisingly sweet, but that didn’t make him want it. He tried to spit it out. Yendray dropped his hand over Tolemek’s mouth, covering his lips and nose. The same weight that flattened Tolemek to the deck seemed to flatten his tongue to the back of his throat. He couldn’t have spat even without the hand there.

  He didn’t swallow, but he doubted it mattered. He sensed the liquid dissolving on his tongue, finding a way into his bloodstream.

  What was that sweet flavor? Glycerin? He supposed it would make the stuff more palatable if Yendray were trying to sneak it into someone’s food.

  Tolemek snorted at himself. The ingredients hardly mattered at this point. Though glycerin had a slippery quality that made it a decent lubricant. Too bad he couldn’t break that vial over his wrists. Maybe he could have tugged them out of the shackles.

  Yendray recapped the vial and set it on the table. Some of the weight pressing down on Tolemek faded.

  “Feel like talking to me, my good alchemist?” Yendray asked.

  “Is that me?” Tolemek muttered, though he had no wish to speak at all.

  “Naturally. What do you call yourself?”

  “The Iskandian capital awarded me a degree that makes me a doctor.”

  “A doctor? Odd. Do you heal people?”

  “With my healing salves, yes.”

  “Is dragon blood one of the ingredients?”

  Tolemek, seeing where the line of questioning would lead, did not want to answer, but his conscious brain no longer had full control over his body, his words. He almost seemed a distant observer watching this from the outside.

  “No,” he heard himself answering.

  “But you’ve made other formulas with dragon blood.”

  “Yes.”

  “What were they?”

  “Acids for fighting dragons. Acids that can eat through their scales.”

  “Ah, that would be useful, but I’m more interested in a power source, I admit. Where are you storing the dragon blood that the Iskandians took from the Cofah?”

  Tolemek tried again to exert his influence, to keep his tongue from flapping, but Yendray’s concoction was more powerful than the one he had once made during his pirate days. Simply being aware of what was happening did little to help him fight its influence.

  “Where is the dragon blood?” Yendray repeated.

  “King Angulus is the one to dole it out to me as needed. I assume he keeps it in the castle in a vault somewhere.”

  “You’re not positive it’s there?”

  “Not positive, but he’s always had some when I’ve been there and requested it.”

  “Hm. I—” Yendray frowned and looked upward.

  The weight on Tolemek disappeared as the man seemed to concentrate on something else. Tolemek tried to employ his own meager senses. The iron shackles might have dampened his ability to do so, but he got a sense of people and ships around them, something he hadn’t felt the last time he’d attempted to figure out where he was. They had to be docked in some harbor.

  “Damn,” Yendray said. “It’s that same woman.”

  He sprang to his feet. “Come, Brukko. I may need you to distract them.”

  The hawk flapped its wings and followed Yendray out the hatchway, half-flying, half-walking to make it through. Tolemek would have thought it one of the craziest things he’d seen if his brain weren’t still running off-kilter.

  His eyes focused on the vial still resting on the table. With the hawk gone and the hatch open, this might be his chance.

  10

  “We’re only a few miles behind the others now,” Sardelle said from the back seat of the flier.

  “Thanks for the boost.” Ridge waved back, indicating the magical wind giving the craft more speed.

  The rest of the squadron has reached a city on a river and are turning toward the docks, Jaxi informed them. It was a little village during our time, Sardelle. I don’t remember the name.

  “It’s Ambergull now,” Ridge said. “A big port a few miles up the river.”

  Your people are heading in to land. Cas is leading them. Though this is odd. She seems surprised by something. Alarmed, even. T
hey all do.

  “No idea what?” Ridge glanced back at Sardelle. “I haven’t heard of any trouble down south, unless it’s the kidnappers themselves.”

  He had little idea who had taken Tolemek—Sardelle had said it might be Dakrovians—but he hadn’t imagined a band of opportunistic thugs thinking a frontal assault on four fliers would be a good idea. They wouldn’t have fliers of their own. What would they be attacking in? An airship?

  Sorry, I’m not sensing anything, Jaxi said after a moment. No airships or fliers aside from those of your people. But they’ve aborted their landing, and they’re swooping all about over the river.

  I don’t sense what they’re fighting, either, Sardelle added. But a couple of them are firing machine guns. Kaika is digging in her pack for an explosive.

  “I’m taking us in,” Ridge said, pushing his flier to maximum speed. “Report, Wolf Squadron.”

  “We’ve got a battle going on here, sir,” came Pimples’ terse voice.

  Someone else cursed. Duck?

  Ridge squinted through his goggles, trying to grasp what was going on. He could make out the fliers swooping, twisting, and taking turns firing toward an area in the sky over the river, but he couldn’t yet see their target. The deepening twilight did not help.

  “Fighting what? Report.”

  The only good thing was that Ridge didn’t think it could be a dragon. Dragons were larger than the fliers, so he would have seen one of them.

  I am sensing a dragon in the distance, Jaxi said, but I believe—yes, that’s Phelistoth. He and Tylie are heading up from the south. I’ll tell Taddy and Tylie what I know, but they’re still miles away. I’m not sure they’ll arrive soon enough to help with… whatever your people need help with.

  “Uhm,” Duck said. “It’s sort of embarrassing, sir.”

  “Report anyway,” Ridge said.

  “Looks like a giant hawk, General,” Blazer said, her words hard to understand, as if she was clenching one of her cigars in her teeth. She probably was.

  “Did you say a hawk?” Ridge thought he saw something now. A dark shape twisting and diving with just as much speed as the fliers—and more agility. If it was a hawk, it was much bigger than a typical one.