“I’ll go with you then. I can report in to him as easily as the night duty officer, and things will probably happen faster that way, anyway.” Cas smiled, leading him up the street again.
Tolemek wished that smile were for him and not for the commander she would shortly see again. He strode through the snow at her side, keeping his hood low as they passed horsemen and vehicles. Fortunately, the impending snow was keeping many people off the streets. Unfortunately, that snow might make for poor enough weather that the armada of pirates might attack the city anyway, especially if they believed the fog was on its way.
“There’s one thing about your quest that I don’t understand,” Cas said, as they walked between pools of light cast by the gas lamps on the corners, the airbase butte looming larger with every block.
“Just one? I haven’t spoken of the details to anyone.”
“What can one of these swords do for her? Cure her of some malady? You’ve never said what’s wrong with her.”
No, he hadn’t. He didn’t speak of her to anyone. But what secrets did he truly have left from Cas now? For good or ill, she knew a lot about him. Maybe it was foolish, but he had come to trust her. He doubted she would relay this information to anyone who might use it against him. Besides, he might need her to help convince Zirkander to talk to him. Tolemek would be shocked if the infamous pilot greeted him with anything except guns.
“It’s not a disease,” Tolemek said. “If it were, I would have... I’m sure I could have done something for her. She’s twelve years younger than me, and I always felt like her protector when she was little. We were close, especially after our brother died. But she can’t take care of herself. Even now, as an adult. It’s worse now. She’s in the sanitarium back home. Father put her there when she started hurting herself. I didn’t agree with that, abandoning her to strangers, to people who would rather drug her than deal with her, to put her in some dark room where she’s kept restrained day and night, so she can’t damage herself or others.” For a moment, he didn’t see the streets of the Iskandian capital, but the halls of that dreadful place. “I broke her out a few years ago.” His lips twisted wryly, remembering the headline in the newspaper. Notorious Pirate Stages Raid on Home for the Mentally Disturbed. “I thought that maybe if she came with me, if she was in a better place, with someone who cared, maybe she’d improve.”
Cas turned up a new street, one that sloped upward, with twin wrought-iron gates at the end. Tolemek doubted he had much time to finish his story.
“She wasn’t any better. And my pirate life was no improvement for her. She wasn’t safe with me, and I reluctantly returned her to the sanitarium. Temporarily, I told myself. Until I found the solution. I had, at least, found the reason for her problems.”
Cas tilted her head toward him. “What?”
“Dragon blood. She was born with—cursed with—an affinity for magic. From my studies, I know that can manifest itself in a number of ways, and for her, it’s made her... crazy. My only hope is to find her a soulblade to bond with, maybe one that holds the essence of a healer, someone who can help her and teach her to understand her abilities and come to terms with them.” And not to be terrified of the world and herself. He sighed.
There was an alarmed—maybe even horrified—expression in her eyes when Cas looked at him, but all she said was, “That’s, uhm, good of you to try to help her.”
Magic was even less tolerated here than in his homeland, he gathered, but he needn’t stay here once he found what he sought. He couldn’t.
A boom sounded in the distance, back in the direction they had come from. The harbor. A bright orange blaze had erupted from the waterfront. No, from out on the docks. From the very dock where they had landed? Even though they had climbed up a hill, there were too many buildings in the way and too much distance to be sure, but he certainly didn’t see the balloon, partially deflated or otherwise, of a dirigible down there. Not now.
“One of your booby traps?” Tolemek asked, a numbness creeping over his limbs. He had given Goroth and the other pirates a sizable dose of that sedative. Chances were they were still on the deck in that cabin, or they had been. He closed his eyes. He hadn’t meant to kill them.
“No. That shouldn’t have happened.” Cas sounded genuinely surprised.
“The hydrogen in the envelope must have ignited.”
“A rip in the balloon shouldn’t have caused anything more than a leak. The cabin was in good shape when we landed. There was nothing burning, no reason the gas should have been touched with fire.”
Tolemek believed her. Crafty as she was, he didn’t know how she could have set something like that up from the navigation area anyway. “Your port authorities then.”
“That’s hard to imagine. I could see them blowing up a pirate ship if it was out there far enough that it wouldn’t damage anything else, but blowing up one of our own freighters just because it had some unconscious pirates on it? And when it was surrounded by privately owned vessels? The king would take more than their jobs over something like that.”
“Hm.”
“We’ll have to wait and solve the mystery later,” Cas said. “I have to report in.”
Tolemek nodded, and they headed up the street again.
It turned out the army installation wasn’t on top of the butte—it simply had a view of it from a hill overlooking the city and the harbor. It covered dozens of city blocks with a wall and razor wire marking the perimeter. The gates Tolemek had seen in the distance were guarded.
Cas stepped into an alley a couple of blocks from the entrance, waving for him to follow. “I can walk up to the guards and get in without... well, there will be questions asked, but they wouldn’t be, so, who’s your friend. Or so, which cell block shall we stick your pirate prisoner in.”
The idea of him as the prisoner amused him, given that he was armed with weapons and the formulas and gadgets in his bag, while she wore little more than the parka he had given her. Still clad in those horrible cloth shoes, she didn’t even have decent footwear.
“I anticipated this. You go ahead without me.” Tolemek drew one of his leather spheres out of his bag, knowing she would recognize it. “I’ll find my own way in.”
Cas gazed up at him. Trying to read his face? To elicit a promise that he wouldn’t hurt anyone? He thought about saying that he trusted her not to tell the gate guards which alley he was in and how many men they would need to subdue him, but decided it didn’t need to be said at this point.
“Be careful,” Cas whispered, then stood on tiptoes, resting her hands on his shoulder.
He wasn’t expecting it, so he almost dropped his sphere when she kissed him. What a mess that would have made. Pirate and lieutenant believed to be dead found snoring and entwined in back alley, lips pressed together. Except they weren’t entwined yet. Tolemek hurried to pocket the sphere so he could bend down, wrap his arms around her, and return the kiss. This would make it all the harder to leave, but he didn’t care. In choosing her over Goroth, something had changed for her, and she was letting him know. With a soft, lingering kiss full of longing and... regret. Or maybe those were his own feelings. Still, when she drew back and he cupped the side of her face, his thumb found moisture on her cheek.
“You be careful too,” he whispered. “I know you don’t want to believe it, but if that sorceress is controlling your commander, he may not be the man you’re expecting.”
Cas snorted and walked out of the alley.
He wasn’t sure why he had added that. Because he hoped it was true? Because he wanted Cas to have faith in him instead of Zirkander? Idiot. He should have said, thank you for the sublime kiss and let’s do it again sometime.
Chapter 13
Cas turned onto Griffon Street, her stride quick. The snow was falling more heavily, and the cold pavement pressed through the bottoms of her thin shoes. She had only the memory of the heat of Tolemek’s kiss to keep her warm, something she couldn’t, alas, spend as much time thin
king about as she would have liked. The soldiers at the gate had recognized her—one of the perks of being a part of Wolf Squadron—and given her hearty thumps on the back and ushered her straight into the courtyard. It had been clear in their eyes that they wanted her story—especially since she still wore the ridiculous-for-this-climate prison smock beneath her borrowed parka—but a distant alarm had gone off, and they had all known stories would have to wait. Cas had to report immediately. She recognized the bong-bong-bongs and knew the alarm originated at one or more of the ocean watch towers beyond the harbor and were being relayed into the city. It wasn’t the ear-splitting siren screech that would announce an all-out attack was imminent, but it did mean unfriendlies had been spotted in the sky, and it was strongly suggested that some fliers be sent out to check on them. That meant the colonel might be racing out his door right now.
Cas turned her walk into a run, watching the sidewalks of the officers’ quarters ahead. There were larger houses on the left side of the street, for those who had families, but she looked right, toward a little cottage past a fountain featuring a dragon, its wings spread, ready to head into battle. The home’s front window was shuttered, but a lantern glowed behind the slats. Good. Maybe he hadn’t left yet. If she caught him, she might be able to go along in addition to briefing him. By the gods, she missed her work—and her team. And she would love to help Wolf Squadron finish off that pirate outpost. Tolemek could ask his questions about swords later.
She jogged up the sidewalk, slipping on the icy cement, its cracks thickened with snow. She missed her uniform and her boots too. She made it to the door without decorating her backside with snow and banged out a knock as hard and fast as the automatic gunfire on a flier.
“Colonel?” she called when seconds dragged by without a response. He usually answered a door knock with a “Yeah?” no matter what he was doing or who was calling. He could have left and forgotten to cut out the lamp.
But she heard footsteps, and a broad smile stretched her lips. Until the door opened.
A woman stood there. The wheels in Cas’s wagon stuttered to a stop. It wasn’t unheard of for the colonel to keep female company—though he didn’t usually bring women back to the fort—but this woman appeared more regal than he usually went for. Oh, she was a beauty, with striking pale blue eyes and rich thick black hair held back from her face with combs, but she looked like someone who belonged in an upscale parlor rather than the dingy taverns Zirkander favored.
Tolemek’s warning, the one Cas had dismissed with nothing more than a derisive snort, rushed to the forefront of her mind. This was not some sorceress who was—she refused to use the world controlling—influencing the colonel, was she? Surely sorceresses were old and gray with bent backs and canes. Or staffs. Or brooms. No, that was witches. Seven gods, this was superstitious nonsense. She was gaping at some poor woman in stockings who was being dusted with snowflakes blowing through the doorway. Did Cas even have the right house?
“Uh.” She glanced past the woman’s shoulder—she was taller than Cas, but who wasn’t?—toward the combination kitchen, dining, living room. Yes, those were the colonel’s pictures on the wall, a mix of fliers that had been his over the years and of pilots he had served with, along with a portrait of his world-exploring father standing arm-in-arm with his mother. That was definitely his tacky yellow-and-green plaid couch, a hand-me-down he had supposedly received from a now-deceased commanding officer and that he refused to part with—most of the pilots in the squadron were convinced he secretly adored it, or perhaps adored the appalled looks people had when they saw it. “Is, uhm, Colonel Zirkander here?”
The woman had been silently studying Cas even as she was studying the woman—and the couch—and said, “He’s at a special meeting at the airbase. About you, I believe.”
That made Cas’s attention lurch back to the woman with the speed of a bullet. “What?” How could this woman possibly know who she was?
Because she was a sorceress and omnipotent...
Cas shook her head, suddenly wishing Tolemek were at her back with his bag full of concoctions.
“Lieutenant Ahn, isn’t it?” The woman’s voice was pleasant enough, melodious even, if oddly accented. Either way, it didn’t make Cas feel any less uneasy. “He was stomping around, muttering and cursing all afternoon, waiting for a response from his commanders. His Captain Haksor thought he recognized you on a pirate outpost, and he’s been trying to get permission to take his men back out. I believe this meeting might be about attempting to recruit people willing to go out whether permission has been granted or not. He was too agitated to unpack the details for me before taking off again.” She smiled—fondly?
Cas pushed her hand through her hair. “I had wondered if anyone saw... I’m sorry, who are you exactly?” She hadn’t been gone that long, and it seemed strange that the colonel had gone from not being involved with any women—the squadron gossip chain was quite up-to-date and accurate when it came to the personal affairs of its officers—to having one live with him in a few short weeks. Or... how long had he been back from his post in the mountains anyway?
“Sardelle.” The woman brushed snowflakes out of her hair, stepped aside, and gestured toward the living area. “Would you like to come in? You seem agitated yourself.”
“That’s not a strong enough word. But, no. I have to find him. If he’s—” Cas’s mouth tumbled open. What if the colonel, thinking he needed to fly off to look for her, led the squadron out this very night and wasn’t here for the pirate attack? The bong-bong-bongs drifting up from the harbor hadn’t elevated to a more demanding alarm, but they hadn’t gone away, either. “I haven’t reported in anywhere yet. I have to find him. Or General Ort.”
She backed up a step, debating between a polite goodbye and simply racing down the street to the headquarters building, but bumped into someone.
“I’d like to come in,” Tolemek said. His expression was impossible to read, but his eyes had that determination he had accused her of. And maybe something of a lupine fierceness as well.
“Uhm, Sardelle,” Cas said, feeling ridiculous doing introductions when she had barely met the woman herself. “This is Tolemek, the pirate who helped me escape.”
“Pirate?” Sardelle’s brows rose in mild curiosity, not the alarm one might expect from the announcement.
“He’s retired now,” Cas said, “though he hasn’t turned in his garish wardrobe yet.” She patted Tolemek’s chest—the hide vest and trousers weren’t so bad, since they displayed his physical attributes nicely, but the shark-tooth necklace and barbed-metal wrist bracers had to go.
Tolemek was keeping his eyes on the woman—maybe he was thinking of sorceresses too?—but he murmured, “Big talk from someone wearing a potato sack,” and swatted her on the butt.
At first, the familiarity surprised her, but she had kissed him, not twenty minutes ago. He must have considered that an invitation to engage in other sorts of intimate exchanges. After a brief consideration, Cas decided she liked that and gave him a little grin. Of course, she would like it more after she reported in, and the world returned to normal.
“I have to go,” she said. “Are you sure you want to stay here? Or that her invitation applies to you?”
Sardelle’s face was hard to read. She wasn’t armed, wearing only an attractive blue dress with a braided cord for a belt—no place to tuck knives or guns there—but she didn’t appear alarmed by Tolemek’s pirate garb—or the pistols holstered at his waist. Her arm was still out, extended toward the living area, and she tilted her head in that direction now too.
“Come in, Mister Tolemek. I don’t imagine it’s safe for you on the streets of this installation.”
No, even if he weren’t wearing such dubious clothing, with that Cofah bronze skin, he was clearly not an Iskandian soldier.
“Be careful,” Cas whispered after him when he started inside.
He looked over his shoulder and nodded gravely to her. Cas had no choice
but to leave him, but as the door shut and she ran back down the street, she wondered if she was making a mistake.
• • • • •
Tolemek’s senses tingled. He was uneasy, yes, but there was more to it than that. It was almost as if he could feel... magic. Ridiculous since, aside from his sister, he had never been around anyone with otherworldly power, at least not to his knowledge, and his sister didn’t make his nerves jangle like this. When the front door thumped shut, he almost jumped over the awful couch, so he could spin around, putting it between himself and the woman. The sorcereress. His hunches might not be scientific, but he trusted them.
The woman—Sardelle, wasn’t it?—leaned against the wall. She wasn’t armed, and she wasn’t leering at him with a threat on her lips, but he nonetheless felt like he had walked into the dragon’s lair unarmed.
“What brings you to Ridge’s doorstep, Cofah pirate?” Sardelle asked, her eyes narrowed. Her tone might not be threatening, but it wasn’t friendly, either.
Ridge—that was Zirkander’s first name, right? Ridgewalker? Something like that.
“Originally, I’d thought to kill him.” It might not have been the brightest thing he could have said, but he wasn’t going to admit that he was here looking for her—or her sword. “He ruined my career in the army. I was in command of an infantry company defending an airship. He and his pilots destroyed it and almost everyone on it.”
“Through chicanery or in honorable combat?” she asked, though the way she crossed her arms over her chest and gave him a frank stare suggested she knew the answer. Odd, he hadn’t expected her to defend Zirkander. If she was truly controlling him for some ulterior motive, wouldn’t she see him as little more than a pawn?
“I’m not sure I’d call your dragon fliers all that honorable when they zero in on airships,” Tolemek said.
The Dragon Blood Collection, Books 1-3 Page 42