Balanced on the Blade's Edge (Dragon Blood, Book 1)

by Lindsay Buroker

  Chapter 10

  The snores reverberated from the ceiling, walls, and floors of the women’s barracks. Whoever had designed the building should have considered carpets, curtains, tapestries, or at least something with sound-dampening properties. The decorator probably hadn’t known many women who were so nasally challenged. Sardelle hadn’t until she arrived here. Thus she lay awake in the darkness, listening to the audible slumber of tired women. She was tired herself, since she had spent the day in the laundry room. Though the other women had treated her like a leper since she hadn’t been in there in so long and had been, as they called it, kissing balls and freeloading, it had seemed a good place to hide from this General Nax, who had been dragging Ridge all over the fort, making angry gestures and yelling.

  Sardelle had instantly disliked the man, even though she hadn’t been in the same room with him yet. Captain Heriton had shown up at some point, trailing along on what appeared to be an inspection. She had stayed out of his sight, not wanting him to be reminded of her. She found it highly unlikely this general would be someone who would make a deal with her when her sword was discovered.

  She hadn’t figured out who that woman was yet either, except that she was young and pretty and seemed just as out of place here as Sardelle. She was obviously Someone Special though, for the soldiers had all been bowing and smiling at her whenever she came around. She didn’t think all of that could be the result of good looks.

  After lying awake for an hour, Sardelle crawled out of bed and put on her boots and clothing warm enough for a trek across the courtyard. She didn’t expect Ridge to be in the library, or even thinking about her, but she couldn’t sleep anyway, so on the off chance he was there…

  He’s there.

  Sardelle, in the process of sticking her feet into her boots, nearly tipped over. Jaxi had been silent all day, probably sharing her concern about being discovered by that sorcerer.

  Yes, I’ll lie low whenever their ship is around. I didn’t like that smarmy know-it-all. Jaxi sniffed.

  By lying low, you mean listening in on our telepathic conversation? Sardelle dressed more quickly, affected far more by the first thing Jaxi had said than by anything else.

  I have to keep abreast of what’s happening. I assure you, he didn’t sense me.

  That’s good. Sardelle tugged on her parka. When you said ‘he’s there,’ did you mean—

  I’d hate to be wielded by some smarmy mage stinking of the jungle and joining in with conquerors.

  I’m glad you also didn’t like him, but what I really want to know is—

  Yes, yes, your boyfriend is waiting for you. Though I’m not sure sex is what he has in mind.

  Sardelle strode outside, still buttoning her parka. The snow had stopped and the sky had cleared, though the air was cold enough to freeze the hair out of her nostrils.

  An attractive image. I recommend you don’t share it with your lover.

  Thank you for the advice, Jaxi.

  There were fires in the watchtowers and braziers burning on the ramparts. Though it was late, the soldiers strode about, their eyes toward the sky. Yes, with the clearing weather, the Cofah might think it time to try a new attack. She swept the skies with her senses, though she didn’t slow down from her brisk walk toward the library building. She didn’t feel anyone out there. Good.

  The library was only one room, upstairs in a building dedicated to equipment storage and welding. For a moment, Sardelle worried the front door would be locked, but it wasn’t. There weren’t any lamps lit in the open bay downstairs, and she had to use her senses to pick her way past everything from ore carts being repaired to giant flywheels from the machines that operated the tram. There was usually a clearer path to the second-floor stairs, but maybe things had been moved about for the general’s inspection.

  As she climbed to the upper hall and still didn’t find any lamps lit, she began to doubt Jaxi’s promise. But she sensed someone in the library room. Maybe Ridge had brought his own lantern and not bothered lighting any on the way. Perhaps a good idea if they didn’t want to be discovered. Although with this general here now, Sardelle was reluctant to do anything with him that might get him in trouble. For all anyone here knew, she was a prisoner. Ridge was the only one who had thought of her as anything else.

  She paused with her hand on the doorknob. Maybe she shouldn’t risk contacting him. But she couldn’t stomach the idea of leaving him in there alone. He was…

  Drunk, she guessed as soon as she opened the door and smelled the alcohol. And sitting in the dark, staring toward the library’s lone window, which had a lovely view of the drab stone ramparts.

  “Ridge?” Sardelle whispered. “Are you… do you want to be alone?”

  He took a deep, audible breath, letting it out slowly before answering. Considering his answer, perhaps. Whatever had brought him here, Sardelle doubted it was she or an urge for sex.

  “No,” he finally decided.

  “Can I… light a candle?”

  “Yeah.” His voice wasn’t slurred, but he definitely sounded off. No, he sounded down. Defeated.

  “Well, I don’t like this new general already if he drove you to drink,” Sardelle said lightly.

  Ridge grunted.

  “Is he… in command now?”

  “Yeah. HQ gave him the authority to take over if I wasn’t doing an adequate job.” He flipped his hand, as if he didn’t care.

  After fumbling in a couple of drawers, Sardelle cheated, using her senses to locate candles and a box of matches. She brought them over to the table where Ridge was seated. He looked away when the match flared to life. The brown glass bottle next to him didn’t have a label; maybe it had been concocted in some tub in the back of the barracks. Whatever it was smelled strong. A little wooden dragon figurine rested next to the bottle, the paint on its bulbous belly worn off. She had only had glimpses of the charm, but she recognized it. There was a little metal eyehook on the top with a braided golden loop attached. He must hang it in the cockpit when he flies.

  Sardelle sat in the chair next to him. “Perhaps you could give me some context. I’m not certain whether I should be trying to cheer you up or commiserating with you. Or simply sitting in silence.”

  Ridge used the back of his hand to push the bottle toward her.

  “Or joining you for a drink,” she added.

  “Two of my pilots were killed.”

  “Oh.” It wasn’t the general that had distressed him so, or not only the general. “Men you flew with? That you knew well?”

  “A man and a woman. A girl, really. Ahn was only twenty-three, barely out of the academy, but she had a real feel for the flier and the archer god’s gift for accuracy. She—” Ridge swallowed audibly, then cleared his throat and picked up the bottle. He took a long swig.

  Sardelle wondered if this Ahn had been more than a fellow pilot for him, but kept herself from asking. This was not the time, and she refused to feel petty jealousy toward a dead woman.

  Ridge set down the bottle. “She was a good kid. Would have had a great career. Made a difference, you know?”

  Sardelle didn’t have any words, none that wouldn’t sound pointless and inane, so she simply laid a hand on his forearm.

  “Dash, too,” Ridge said. “Even if he was reckless. They both were. Probably got that from me. And then I wasn’t there when—” He broke off again, gazing into the dark nothingness.

  “I’m sorry,” Sardelle whispered. It seemed so inadequate. For him, and for her too. Her thoughts drifted to those she had lost, friends and relatives who also would have had great careers if the fates had allowed it. Some had been younger than Ridge’s lieutenant when the mountain had come crashing down.

  They sat there in silence, letting the candles burn lower, their lights dancing with shadows on the bookcase. After a time, Ridge pushed the bottle toward her again.

  “You should drink. I’m more interesting when you do. Better company.”

 
; Because he wished it, Sardelle took a sample of the strong-smelling brew. As she had suspected, it burned like fire going down her throat. She managed not to cough and sputter—barely. “As I told you this morning, you don’t have to do much to be better company than a brigade of snoring women.”

  “Yeah? Guess I’m lucky standards here are low.”

  Sardelle too. She thought of the pretty blonde girl and the way she had fallen over Ridge from the moment she stepped out of the plane. It occurred to her that the hero worship she had seen from many of the soldiers must extend to women when he was back home. He must have his choice of female companions. If she were to knock on the door of his cabin by the lake someday, would she find him alone? Or, with so many other interested parties around, would he forget about her?

  You never used to be insecure.

  I never used to date much.

  You’re an attractive woman, Sardelle. He’s in the library with you, not drinking with that blonde girl. She offered.

  I’m sorry, were you trying to make me feel better?

  No, just making observations.

  Time for a different topic. “It sounded like that general was giving you a hard time. Will you get in trouble over… the changes you’ve implemented?” Or over me, she added silently.

  “Already did. He thinks I’m running the place like the officer’s club back home. He figures I’ll bring in masseurs to rub down the prisoners next.”

  “Wasn’t he at least pleased by the crystals you’ve found?” Sardelle asked.

  “He was so happy he almost didn’t scowl for a second. Wouldn’t credit me for them though—not that I’ve had anything to do with finding them—” Ridge nodded toward her. “Even though Heriton told him differently, he’s convinced they came out of the ground on General Bockenhaimer’s shift.”

  “Well… your men are close to another one. He’ll be able to see that one for himself when they dig it out.”

  “Yeah.”

  “If I were down there, I might be able to find even more. Pretty soon, you’re going to get into some of the old rooms, and there’ll be a higher density of… ” Sardelle stopped because Ridge had twisted in his seat to face her.

  He clasped the top of the hand she had been resting on his arm. “Listen, Sardelle. You need to make yourself scarce. Don’t let him see you, and don’t show up when Heriton is around either. If he starts blabbing about what that prisoner said or about any of the admittedly unusual things that have happened since you came around… you’ll be in danger. I won’t be able to protect you. As much as I’d like to, I can’t throw a superior officer off a cliff.”

  “I’d never ask you to.”

  “I know you wouldn’t.” Ridge lifted his hand and stroked the side of her face. “You’re more mature than I am.” His eyes moved, following her face as his fingers traced her cheek down to her jaw. A pleased shiver ran through her. “Sexier too,” he murmured.

  “I would refute that statement. You’re quite sexy. Especially when you smile.”

  He managed a small one. “No argument on mature, eh?”

  “No.”

  Ridge chuckled softly and leaned closer. He kissed her gently on the lips, then lowered his face to the side of her neck. Sardelle wasn’t sure if he had commiseration in mind or… something more, but her body was certainly responding to his touch. It would be a shame to go back to the barracks now. He pushed his hand through her hair and massaged the back of her neck.

  “I suppose being pawed over by a drunk wouldn’t be much of a reward for you coming all the way out here to keep me company,” he murmured against her throat, his lips grazing her skin.

  She wondered if he could feel the rapidness of her heartbeat there. “Depends on the drunk,” she whispered, slipping her hand behind his head and wondering why their chairs were so far apart.

  “Oh?”

  “You still seem to have… ” That massage felt so good, her brain slipped a cog and she momentarily forgot the rest of her sentence. Good and… stimulating. Not to mention what his lips were doing on her throat. “Retained your faculties,” she breathed.

  “I was hoping you’d come.” His other hand found her thigh. Even through her clothing, it charged her with heat.

  Sardelle left her chair to sit in his lap and wrapped her arms more firmly around him. “Me too.” That didn’t make sense, but she didn’t care.

  “You’re the only thing keeping me sane tonight,” Ridge whispered, and it was the last thing either of them said for a time.