“Ridge promised me he would also bathe in the bay later,” Sardelle said as they walked down the main street toward the beach. Several men lounging on porches or leaning against street posts eyed them as they passed, but Cas had her rifle, and Sardelle had her sword, and nobody approached. “Sitting behind him and then Lieutenant Duck on the way here was… an olfactory experience.”
“I suppose it’s worse in the back.” Cas wondered if Tolemek had been noticing her own odor. She doubted she could attribute that to his reason for leaving to scout.
“I don’t think your engineers were thinking of comfort when they designed those fliers.”
“No, fighting off pirates and Cofah mostly, I imagine.”
“Ridge said he and his father were waiting to meet with someone who knows a guide who might take us to the mountain,” Sardelle said. “The first people Moe tried laughed and walked the other way.”
“Oh? I hadn’t heard about that.”
“Apparently, the Cofah have been through here, hiring guides, and those guides never came back, so nobody’s eager to take the risk.” Sardelle lowered her voice. “There are some stories about things going on out in the jungle.”
“I heard about the cannibals.”
“That’s always been going on—I remember those stories from three hundred years ago.”
“You’ve been here before?”
“Not this island, but others nearby. I used to work on a naval ship.”
Cas realized she knew very little about Sardelle. Even though they had spent some time together now, it had always been with the men around, and Cas hadn’t naturally been drawn to her, being put off by the sorcery. Even if it had come in handy numerous times now, she had a hard time not seeing Sardelle as something strange, something not quite human. And if she was honest with herself, it bothered her that Sardelle was with Zirkander, too, that she was the one who got to call him Ridge. Cas had long since gotten past the idea of having a romantic relationship with Zirkander, but she couldn’t help but feel that she had known him much longer than Sardelle and that she ought to be the one on a first-name basis with him. It was petty, and she knew it, and she was trying to bury that resentment, or at least not let herself act on it in any way, but she did wonder if Tolemek sensed how much Zirkander meant to her and if that was why he had asked that question. She couldn’t help it if she had known him for years and that he had been a mentor and, yes, a friend to her—first-name basis notwithstanding—since long before Tolemek had been in her life. But maybe she could make it clearer that Tolemek was the one she wanted to go to bed with and that he was the one she imagined being a bigger part of her future. Yes, and why couldn’t she have told him that when he had brought up love?
She sighed.
“Everything all right with Tolemek?” Sardelle asked as they turned onto the sandy street paralleling the waterfront.
“You’re not reading my mind, are you?” Cas asked in jest, though she wondered. Tolemek had said something about telepaths being able to do that and had also mentioned that the sword poked into his head now and then.
“No. You just seem glum, lost in thought. I hope nothing’s wrong. This mission has been trying so far.”
“Yes,” Cas murmured. “No, Tolemek’s fine. He’s looking for information on his sister. The port master hadn’t seen her.”
“Ah.”
That “ah” sounded too knowing for Cas’s tastes. Time to put thoughts of romance aside.
The moon was higher in the sky now, shining a silvery beam onto the calm bay and onto the side of the dirigible too. Cas stopped, her back to a wall, to study it more closely. Lights burned behind the windows in the cabin, but the craft was too far out in the bay to make out people or anything inside.
“That’s odd,” she said. “They’re anchored out there, but they’re closer to that ridge on the other side of the bay than the docks. Nobody will be able to come to town. Do you think they’re waiting, making sure they’re out of range of the pirates? Maybe they’re here to pick someone up?”
Sardelle had joined her against the wall, but she didn’t respond. She merely gazed thoughtfully at the dirigible.
“…went this way,” a man whispered nearby, from around the corner of the street Cas and Sardelle had turned off. “Two women. No men.”
“…get them for us?”
Not likely. Cas lifted her rifle, her finger finding the trigger. Four shaggy-haired men lumbered around the corner and looked up and down the beach. Cas judged their distance. She could fire up to six rounds in fairly rapid succession, but she did need to pull the lever to chamber the next bullet between the shots. She ought to be able to hit three men before the fourth reached them. Sardelle would have to deal with the last one. It made Cas twitch to realize she would have to rely on someone else, but Sardelle could handle herself in a fight.
The men hadn’t yet looked toward the shadows along the wall. A hand came to rest on Cas’s forearm.
Her first instinct was to shake it off, but Sardelle leaned close and whispered, “They won’t see us.”
As if to make a joke of her words, the men turned toward Cas and Sardelle, walking straight down the packed sand street. Cas’s finger tightened on the trigger, but she hesitated. She had no idea what passed for the law on this island, but she had already shot a pirate in the hand. Granted, that had been self-defense, but there hadn’t been anything but pirate witnesses, and his buddy might lie. She couldn’t preemptively shoot people, as much as she wanted to. The men weren’t looking at her, anyway. Their gazes and pointing fingers were toward the end of the beach rather than Cas’s spot on the wall.
“That one of ’em?” one asked, waving at a distant figure silhouetted by the moon.
“Might be. Come on.”
The men passed Cas and Sardelle so closely that they could have touched them. The scents of alcohol, sweat, and smoke wafted off them in repugnant waves. Cas wrinkled her nose but didn’t otherwise move.
She waited until the men had shuffled a couple dozen meters down the beach before whispering, “That’s a handy skill.”
“Yes, against humans, anyway. Animals sometimes see through it, and…”
“What?” Cas asked, surprised by the uncertainty in Sardelle’s voice.
“Let’s just say that I’ve been concerned that the dragon is working for the Cofah and won’t take kindly to our intrusion. I certainly can’t fool him. As far as magical power goes, Jaxi and I would be like fleas in comparison to such a creature.” Sardelle snorted. “Especially me, Jaxi points out. She thinks she may rate closer to a mosquito in her ability to harry a dragon.”
“Oh.” Maybe Cas shouldn’t have asked. Even though the Cofah had the dragon blood, it hadn’t occurred to Cas that the dragon might be a true ally of theirs. She winced at the thought of it flying through Iskandian skies, burning the countryside—and the cities.
“We’re concerned that the dragon wouldn’t talk to us. Jaxi reached out to him, and he should have been aware of her presence, but he neither welcomed us nor warned us away.”
“Maybe it’s—he’s—unconscious,” Cas said. “The Cofah have been taking all that blood…”
“Based on what we’ve seen, a relatively small amount has been taken, given the size of a dragon, and it seems like it’s being done over time. That shouldn’t affect the health of a dragon. I had the thought that the creature might be staying silent to lure us into a trap.”
“Heartening.”
“Yes, I know. Sorry, I’ll try to be more optimistic about our mission. I—” Sardelle had been looking at Cas, but her gaze shifted toward the bay again, toward the dirigible.
As far as Cas could see, nothing had changed, but her vision, as sharp as it was, was limited at night. Presumably, a sorceress had more senses than eyesight to employ. “Can you tell how many people are on there?” she asked.
“Forty or fifty. I don’t sense anyone with otherworldly power, nor do the people seem to be here for a military
purpose. The ship has weapons, for defense, I assume, but the people inside are having dinner and drinking. They seem like civilians, tourists, maybe.”
“You can tell all that from here?”
“Jaxi can, yes. But one of the hatches on the opposite side opened. I’m trying to see—let’s go down to the water for a better view.”
The woman-hungry brutes had disappeared around a bend in the terrain, so Cas didn’t hesitate to follow her. A breeze came up to help them—or maybe Sardelle was responsible for that—and turned the end of the dirigible, so that open hatch became visible. Lights may have been burning behind the windows, but the room or luggage compartment or whatever they were looking at was dark. Cas couldn’t see into the interior, but some quick hint of movement caught her eye, flying out like an arrow. But if it was an arrow, she lost sight of it against the dark sky.
“Is that…” Cas checked her pockets, not sure if she had left her collapsible spyglass in her pack. Ah, there it was. She slipped it out, extended it, and located the open hatch. “A thin rope or cable is coming out of it. Do you see that? It’s taut.” She followed it with the spyglass, but even with the enhanced distance vision, she had a hard time seeing where the rope ended. It had attached to something on land, though, on the far side of the bay from the city, in what looked like an uninhabited rocky ridge. The terrain thrusting out into the ocean was part of what protected the harbor. “Do you want to see?” Cas held out the spyglass.
“I see enough,” Sardelle said. “Look.” She pointed.
A dark figure leaped out of the hatch. He hung from a belt or something similar that he had looped over the rope, and sped down the taut line toward the landmass. Dark clothing, gloves, and a hood shrouded his body, so Cas couldn’t tell anything about the figure, other than that the breadth of the shoulders and overall size meant it was probably a man. He sped down the rope at an impressive speed, then let go when he reached the ridge. He dropped ten or fifteen feet, but landed lightly, absorbing the impact without trouble. The darkness of the rocks soon swallowed him, and he was lost from view. Back on the dirigible, the rope was cut and the hatch shut.
“I guess he didn’t want to pay the dock fees,” Sardelle said.
Cas lowered her spyglass. “What are the odds that he doesn’t have anything to do with us? Want to bet?”
“I don’t know how anyone could know we’re here.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
Sardelle sighed. “No, I don’t think I want to try and answer it. Or take your bet.”
“We better make our wash session quick and report back to the colonel.”
“I’ve already told him. No need to rush too much. I’d prefer to find a private spot where pirates won’t amble past and leer.”
“Can’t you just make us invisible?”
“I suppose, but I don’t want to have to smell pirates ambling past, either.”
“Sounds reasonable.” Cas trailed after Sardelle, though she couldn’t help but gaze back toward the ridge and wonder who that ship had deposited.
*
Tolemek was in a poor mood by the time he turned down the street leading back to their lodgings above the Tethered Tentacle. Not only had his skulking around and questioning people amounted to nothing, but he regretted his entire conversation with Cas. She had been in a playful mood, and he had ruined it. And why? Because of his pathetic insecurities? What had he expected when he confessed that he loved her? That she would fling her arms around him and cry, “Me too!” in return? She had looked more like a cornered animal. If that hadn’t been enough of a crime, he had pushed her with that stupid question about who she would choose if he and Zirkander went separate ways.
She had been right, in that there was no reason for him to worry about that possibility, not yet. So why had he asked? Because he had wanted her to answer that she would of course go with him instead of with the colonel? Yes, he had, even though he knew that was… wanting too much. And it wasn’t fair to foist that question on her unless he had to. If the time did come, he had to understand that Zirkander was tied in with her career and her duty to her nation. If she chose to stay with her squadron, it wasn’t as if she was choosing Zirkander over Tolemek. It just felt that way.
He took some solace in the fact that she had still offered to come with him to hunt for information. He shouldn’t have rejected that offer. That had been petty. Like if he couldn’t have all of her, heart and soul, he didn’t want anything to do with her? No, that wasn’t true at all. He needed to be more mature about this. Wasn’t he supposed to be the older and wiser one? The older and wiser one who had spent far too many nights in his lab instead of experiencing meaningful relationships with women, relationships that might have taught him to be less of an…
“Idiot,” he grumbled.
At least you acknowledge it, came a cheerful and unwelcome voice in his head. Not all men are so percipient.
What do you want, Jaxi?
To give you advice. You should return to your room, remove your shirt, and flex your muscles in a manly way as you recite a poem of penitence for your lady.
Tolemek grimaced. I don’t think Cas is the kind of woman who gets weak-kneed at the notion of poetry.
All women get weak-kneed if it’s heartfelt. Trust me, this works.
Didn’t Sardelle say that you’ve been in that sword since you were a teenager? How much personal experience could you have on this matter? And why was he having this conversation with a sentient sword who was butting into his head?
I’ve been around for hundreds of years. I’ve witnessed countless relationships. And I’ve read thousands of books.
Tolemek imagined the sword lying across the open pages of a relationship manual. So, basically you have no personal experience in this arena.
I’m closely linked to my handlers, some of whom have been quite virile. Occasionally promiscuous. Not Sardelle. She was disappointingly chaste before meeting her soul snozzle. Now, she’s making up for the celibate years. It seems repetitive to me, but they don’t enjoy interruptions. Or suggestions. Or comments on form. It doesn’t leave me with a lot to do while they’re rutting like bonobos.
Tolemek’s grimace deepened. I… don’t want to have these images in my head.
No? For a freewheeling pirate, you’re a bit of a stodgy stick, Tolemek.
Yes, I am. It occurred to him that Jaxi might be talking to him now out of boredom due to… an occupied handler.
You’re a smart boy, aren’t you? You’re about to have visitors, so I’ll let you get on with that.
What?
Several dark figures stepped out of the alley beside the Tethered Tentacle. They were all armed and wore a scruffy assortment of stolen gewgaws, flamboyant hats, and tacky jewelry. Two of the men gripped pistols in their hands, and they were all facing him.
“Evening, Deathmaker,” one with a gravelly voice rumbled, tipping a hat with a brim wide enough that parrots could have nested on it.
“What do you want?” Tolemek asked, turning his torso away from the nearest streetlight and slipping a hand into his vest. He slid out one of his smoke grenades, as well as something more potent that would knock the men unconscious if they inhaled enough fumes. “And who are you?”
“Captain Moravian,” the man drawled. “And crew. Part of it, anyhow.”
The name was vaguely familiar, an Iskandian buccaneer if Tolemek recalled correctly. He had a sailing ship rather than an airworthy craft, and the Roaming Curse hadn’t encountered him before.
“We were just out for a stroll,” the captain said, “and saw that you were out for a stroll too. On an island not many airship pirates have occasion to visit.”
“Not many people at all have occasion to visit,” one of his followers said with a snicker.
“I’m retired,” Tolemek said bluntly, thumbing the pull-tab on the smoke grenade, debating whether he should throw it and run into the building. But nobody had raised a pistol yet. Maybe he could get som
e information from the pirates.
“Heard that. That you up and killed Captain Slaughter but didn’t bother to take his ship. Funny, that.”
“The Iskandians had blasted the ship full of holes.”
“Ships can be fixed. Crews acquired. Unless you had something more lucrative waiting for you somewhere…”
“Like here,” the snickerer said with another laugh.
“Here?” Tolemek asked. What in all the levels of hell could be lucrative here? They couldn’t know about the dragon blood, could they?
“Whilst we were out strolling, we noticed you ambling into yon lodgings.” The captain jerked a thumb at the building behind him. “And we noticed the treasure hunter ambling at your side.”
“The treasure hunter?” Tolemek asked.
“Old Man Zirkander.”
Huh, Tolemek hadn’t realized Colonel Zirkander’s father had a reputation independent of his son’s. Moe would probably be upset to hear himself labeled as “Old Man” instead of Rock Cheetah. Did these pirates even know Colonel Zirkander was here?
“Man’s known to have found some baubles in his time,” Moravian said. “And to have mapped and researched a whole lot of wild lands. He’s written about a lot of treasures, too, sharing information about those he wasn’t interested in hunting for, on account of them being in territories unfriendly to Iskandians.”
“I had no idea you had such an interest in treasures. How long have you been here, Moravian? You seen the Cofah ships coming and going?”
“All pirates are interested in treasures. In money. Keeps a crew fed and a man in baubles and women,” Moravian said, ignoring his other questions. “My first ship came by way of snooping around in a forgotten cove that pirates from the olden days once used. Pays to read up on treasures, you know.”
“I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I’m not here to hunt treasures. I’m looking for someone.” Tolemek thought about asking after Tylie, but decided he didn’t want to risk letting these people know he was hunting for kin. They might find a way to use that against him. “An old enemy,” he tacked on.
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