Soulblade

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Soulblade Page 36

by Lindsay Buroker


  Sardelle stepped forward, realizing he needed her services. Angulus let her come close and rest a hand on his head as he continued to explain. His words sounded half-dazed as they came out. He probably had a concussion.

  “My men ran back to face her,” he said, “giving me time to escape. They wanted me to get out of the castle, hide in the city, but how do you hide from someone who can speak into your mind?”

  Ridge stirred at the question, but he didn’t say anything.

  “I was sure she’d find me, no matter where I went,” Angulus went on. “So I came down here, to this distant corner of the castle, hoping I wouldn’t hurt anyone else with my trap.” He waved toward the rock pile. “I set explosives around this storage room, then crouched and waited, pulling those crates in front of the old hearth. When she came, I detonated everything.” His gaze shifted upward, toward the destroyed ceiling. With the rubble pile moved, they could see up to the level above and the one above that too. “A lot of them. I wanted to drop the entire castle on her. I hoped it would be enough to stop her.” He shrugged, his broad shoulders slumping low. “I appreciate you three coming to finish her off and dig me out. We should look at the carnage elsewhere. I need to see how many of my people survived. And how many did not.”

  Sardelle was examining his wound, but she paused to meet Ridge’s grim eyes. Therrik’s earlier triumphant expression had faded.

  “Sire,” Ridge said, taking a deep breath. “She found the meeting room. Your council leaders are dead. So are the men who guarded them.”

  For a long, stunned moment, Angulus said nothing, only staring at Ridge. Then his fingers curled into fists, and he glared down at Eversong’s body again.

  “Why?” he whispered. “What did she want? Did the emperor order this?”

  “She wanted to rule Iskandia,” Ridge said. “She needed the existing government gone, so she could put a figurehead on the throne and rule through him.”

  “What figurehead? I don’t have any descendants.”

  “Uhm.” Ridge stuck his hands in his pockets. “She thought the people might be open to choosing someone who wasn’t royal, but who was somewhat popular with the press.”

  Angulus’s eyebrows shot up.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Ridge said. “He wouldn’t have done it. There would have been a lot of paperwork.”

  “That’s not very damned funny, Zirkander. Not now. Gods.”

  “No, Sire. I know.” Ridge looked like he wanted to crawl into that hearth and disappear from sight.

  Sardelle wanted to wrap an arm around him, but she had to tend to Angulus’s injuries first—she could still sense the dragons in the sky above the castle and knew they weren’t safe yet.

  “She was manipulating him, Sire,” Sardelle said as she worked, staunching the blood and helping the wound scab over. “She and her soulblade were the ones who controlled all those Cofah soldiers in the airships, remember.”

  Angulus’s scowl wasn’t fading. Ridge stared bleakly at the floor, his shoulders hunched.

  “He didn’t accept the offer,” Sardelle said. “Manipulation or not, he could have.”

  Ridge shook his head, denying that he could have under any circumstances.

  “So he just brought her here to destroy my people. And my castle.”

  “Not of his own will,” Sardelle said firmly. She understood Angulus was frustrated over the loss of his people, people who had helped him rule the nation for decades in some cases, but it wasn’t fair to blame Ridge.

  I have some news that might cheer him up, Jaxi said.

  We could use cheerful news.

  Phelistoth dropped Kaika and a prisoner off in the courtyard before going off somewhere with Tolemek.

  A prisoner?

  The Cofah emperor.

  “Sire.” Sardelle hesitated to tell him before she had finished sealing the gash in the back of his head, but she didn’t want him to continue glaring at Ridge either. For whatever reason, Angulus seemed to find the idea of King Zirkander more alarming and likely than it should have been, especially with the sorceress dead. “Kaika is somewhere in the castle. Part of the team that went to Dakrovia has returned. She has the emperor with her.”

  Angulus’s head spun toward her. “What? Where is she?”

  Jaxi?

  Trying to dig herself out of a tower that collapsed when a dragon crashed into it. Jaxi shared the image with Sardelle. It was a corner tower along the back wall.

  “She’s all right,” Sardelle said, careful to emphasize that first, “but stuck in a tower that was damaged.”

  “Damaged?” Concern haunted his eyes.

  Utterly collapsed is the more appropriate description, Jaxi thought. It’s a good thing she hauled him into the basement level before that happened.

  “Damaged,” Sardelle said. “I’ll help you get them out.”

  “I have burly soldiers for that.” Angulus nodded toward Therrik and headed for the hallway. He pointedly did not look at Ridge.

  Uh, you may want to find a way to help Bhrava Saruth. He’s getting pummeled by the female, and there’s a second gold coming.

  What?

  The other male that escaped the cavern when Bhrava Saruth did. I’m guessing he’s the female’s mate now and came to help.

  How far out is he?

  Maybe five minutes.

  Therrik walked out after Angulus, his hand on Kasandral’s blade, as if he meant to cut Kaika out of the tower. Maybe he did. There was no hangdog look about him. He’d gotten a good work from Angulus. For once, Ridge wasn’t the hero, and he seemed lost in that knowledge.

  Sardelle knew there wasn’t much time, but she went to him and wrapped her arms around him. He stood there dejectedly. He lifted an arm to return the hug, but then let it drop, defeat cloaking him.

  I don’t deserve your... you.

  I don’t accept that as true, but even if it is, I deserve you, Ridge. I thought you were dead.

  Oh, he thought, the word very small. He returned the hug, resting his cheek against hers and stroking her hair with one hand. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, though he didn’t seem to be able to get thoughts of the dead out of his mind. You’re sure you don’t deserve someone less self-absorbed?

  I don’t want anyone else, so you’ll just have to get over that. I love you. She was glad she didn’t have to use her voice to speak with him, because she wouldn’t have trusted it to work. Tears leaked from her eyes, dampening the shoulder of his uniform jacket. He smelled of dust and stone and the road, and they had more problems to deal with, but she couldn’t bring herself to let him go. She wanted to stand there, with his arms around her, something she hadn’t known if she would ever experience again.

  The castle shuddered around them, and someone screamed in the courtyard up above. Sardelle lifted her head from Ridge’s shoulder and reluctantly lowered her arms, though she couldn’t resist a few selfish thoughts. Hadn’t they done enough? Couldn’t someone else deal with the dragons while she stayed here?

  Ridge might have been thinking the same thing, because he did not release her right away. He lifted his palm to the side of her face, wiping tears from her cheeks with his thumb.

  “Thank you for coming for me,” he said, gazing into her eyes.

  She leaned her cheek into his hand. “I always will.”

  He kissed her, his tangle of feelings washing over her: gratitude, sorrow, love, regret. Later, she hoped to inspire less mixed emotions in him, but for now, she tried to return the kiss in such a way that everyone else he had ever kissed, including enemy sorceresses and farm girls, would be a disappointment in comparison.

  Two minutes, Jaxi said quietly. That was Bhrava Saruth being thrown against a tower.

  Understood.

  Sardelle pulled away from Ridge, feeling slightly smug at the dazed and breathless expression on his face.

  “And I’ll always rub your dragon too.” She squeezed his butt before releasing him fully and walking over to pick up the soulbl
ade.

  “The figurine, right?” A faint smile ghosted across his lips.

  “That too.” The ancient sword, the hilt more intricate than Jaxi’s, with a big sapphire jewel on the end, lay quiet in her hand, neither objecting to being touched nor offering a sign of acceptance. She held the hilt out toward Ridge. “Will you carry him for now? I can feel Jaxi glowering at him, and she might get jealous if I tote around a former nemesis.”

  I’m not glowering. I’m just informing him that Tylie is too sweet for him, and we might want to bury him in the crystal mines and select another soulblade for her.

  So, you’re being personable and charming.

  Yes.

  Remember, we blew up all the tunnels in those mines. Finding another soulblade in there would be a long-term project.

  It’s worth waiting for the right soulblade. An Iskandian one.

  But Tylie is Cofah.

  Tylie is a kid. She doesn’t know or care what she is. She just wants friends.

  She’s older than you were when you went into your blade, Sardelle said.

  All I wanted at that age was to have friends too. And to light things on fire.

  Naturally.

  Ridge’s expression turned dubious as he regarded the soulblade. “An honor? Or my penance?”

  “You don’t deserve penance, Ridge. You helped kill a dragon that was destroying villages—and people. You almost died defending your country. You’ve selflessly risked your life for Iskandia countless times. Nothing from the last week changes that. You’re an asset to the king and this nation. Angulus will get over his grumpiness—” maybe sometime after he had a new castle built, “—and see that again soon.”

  He sighed, more in defeat than agreement, and grasped the sword’s hilt. “Want to go fight a dragon, Wreltad?”

  The soulblade flared silver, driving back the shadows in the room and highlighting Ridge’s face. Sardelle wondered anew at Jaxi’s suggestion that Wreltad might consider linking with Ridge. That wouldn’t help Tylie, but the sword could help keep Ridge alive when he was streaking suicidally through the skies.

  He would be twice as reckless with a soulblade of his own. Jaxi sniffed derisively into Sardelle’s mind.

  I’m sure Wreltad’s presence wouldn’t keep him from talking to you, Sardelle said, guessing that Jaxi’s objection had more to do with possessiveness than anything else.

  Of course not. I’m fun and interesting. Who wouldn’t want to talk to me?

  “I guess he’s agreeable to the idea,” Ridge said. He looked at the scabbard on Eversong’s waist, but flicked his fingers, apparently deciding to leave it for someone else to extract.

  “Yes, but it’s actually two dragons,” Sardelle said.

  “Two?”

  “If we can find you a flier, I brought back the rest of your bullets from the Morishtomaric fight. They’re in my pack where we landed up above.”

  “You brought my bullets and my lucky dragon?” Ridge’s eyes brightened for the first time since they had reunited. “You are a magnificent woman.”

  He offered his free arm and nodded toward the hallway.

  She linked her arm with his and walked out with him, pleased by his warm gaze.

  “I believe I must offer to rub something of yours as a sign of my gratitude,” he murmured, and a little shiver went through her.

  “I don’t have a dragon.”

  “We’ll find something else.”

  “I’m open to that.”

  They walked up the stairs together, Sardelle struggling to keep her mind on the battle waiting for them, a battle they had to survive before they could rub each other’s anything.

  Chapter 20

  Tolemek raced into the lab, jumping over the floor-cleaning automaton that idled away in the hallway, the device unaware of the dragons battling over the city’s harbor. As far as human workers went, the front desk wasn’t staffed, and he didn’t spot any open doors.

  “Good thing I didn’t bring the emperor here,” he muttered.

  Captain Kaika seems capable of guarding a human, Phelistoth said, trotting behind him.

  Tolemek had been surprised when the dragon shifted into human form to follow him into the lab. He’d expected Phelistoth to wait for him on the roof. Maybe he thought the other dragons would be less likely to notice him if he was in this innocuous form.

  I am growing weary of having my talons cut off by golds, Phelistoth grumbled. Why are there no bronze dragons left in the world?

  As Tolemek opened the door to his lab, he decided not to point out that more than Phelistoth’s talons had been cut in the numerous scrapes he had been in, first with Morishtomaric and then with the female.

  It is an expression. Phelistoth strode in behind him. Where is—

  He halted, staring at several large tables that had been pushed together in the center of the lab, taking up so much space that it was hard to maneuver around them. A dragon skull rested atop them, the scales, muscle, and brain material having been dissected and removed for preservation before Tolemek left.

  “I requested that Morishtomaric’s remains be brought in for me to study,” Tolemek explained hastily, aware of the incredulous and somewhat threatening look that Phelistoth leveled at him. He had forgotten that the skull was still in his lab.

  Study? For what purpose?

  “To better learn the anatomy and biochemistry of dragons so we can defend ourselves against them in the future. Against hostile ones, only.” Tolemek kept himself from asking if Phelistoth was about to become a hostile dragon.

  Phelistoth curled his lip at the skull, then turned his back on it. Where is this weapon that will affect dragons? I will gladly change back in order to hurl it at Yisharnesh.

  Tolemek skirted the table to reach a locked cabinet. He turned the dial to the combination, opened the door, and withdrew a ceramic jar surrounded with padding. “I had time to make more than I needed for the last confrontation, but I haven’t had time to craft a delivery system.”

  Without a gunsmith nearby, he couldn’t make bullets again. He looked down at the jar dubiously, imagining that the battle would not go well if he simply ran up and threw it at a dragon.

  It will go well if I throw it, I assure you.

  “Er, I suppose that could work.” Tolemek could still imagine the jar missing or bouncing off the dragon’s shields and falling uselessly into the ocean. This was all he had of the compound. He looked toward his cabinet of empty jars and vials. Perhaps if he split it into several containers, they would have more chances to—

  There is no time. Yisharnesh is not enjoying Bhrava Saruth’s dance moves, and her mate comes.

  “Her mate?” Tolemek gaped toward the window, but it looked out over the city instead of toward the castle.

  The other gold dragon that escaped from the cavern. It appears Yisharnesh has forgotten about the emperor and is focusing on Bhrava Saruth. She is irritated at him because he dropped a glacier on her head back in the mountains. When your irritation rises, sensible thoughts sometimes fall out of your head.

  “Yes, I’ve noticed that happens with dragons.” Tolemek held out the jar.

  Keep it until we are poised to throw. The mate may leave if we convince Yisharnesh to leave. He is aloof and has no interest in humans, emperors or otherwise. I will instruct Bhrava Saruth to put all of his energy into lowering Yisharnesh’s defenses, and then I will hurl the jar at her. Phelistoth ran back into the hallway, heading for the stairs leading to the rooftop.

  Tolemek ran after him, asking, “Will that work?”

  If Bhrava Saruth is strong enough. And if he’ll follow my orders.

  Tolemek tried to reassure himself that both of those things could happen.

  • • • • •

  Ridge didn’t let go of Sardelle until they escaped the maze of toppled walls and flattened hallways that was all that remained of the castle. As soon as they stepped into the rubble-littered courtyard, he spotted four soldiers running toward a collapsed to
wer from the direction of the landing pad, where two Wolf Squadron fliers must have just settled down. General Ort led the group, alternately yelling for the king and glancing toward the sky. Three gold dragons wheeled and fought above the harbor, while a dozen fliers swooped about, like gnats in comparison to the mighty creatures. The fight was taking place at an uncomfortably low altitude. With two of the courtyard walls flattened, Ridge could see them easily, as they battled near the docks. One of the golds blew a stream of flames from its maw. The fire missed its target—that must be the dragon Sardelle had been riding—and bathed ships docked in the harbor. They burst into flame instantly.

  Ridge spun toward Sardelle. “Bullets?”

  She was already jogging toward the spot where Bhrava Saruth had dropped them off. “I’ll get them and meet you at the fliers.”

  Ridge sprinted for the half-collapsed tower where Ort gesticulated wildly as he spoke to Angulus. Angulus barely seemed to be listening. He was digging frantically, trying to clear the doorway of the tower. Kaika must be trapped down there. Therrik and several guards were helping, but the men kept glancing toward the battle in the sky. As much as Ridge cared about Kaika, the entire city was at risk from those dragons.

  “Sire,” he blurted as he drew close. “General Ort. I need one of those fliers.”

  Ort’s eyebrows climbed up his forehead when he saw Ridge, and for a moment, he looked like he might hug him, but he broke off the gesture and shook his head instead. “Those fliers are to get the king out of the city. Our people have been in the air for the last ten minutes, and all that’s happening is they’re getting knocked down. They can’t hurt the dragons at all.” His gaze drifted downward as he spoke, locking on the soulblade in Ridge’s hand.

 

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