“Yes,” she said, her voice quieter. “He said something... I tried to disabuse him of the notion, but he was quite convinced that he had been the beneficiary of a miracle and that I had the powers of a goddess. His words, mind you.”
Zirkander frowned thoughtfully.
Tolemek was considering how to dismount from his beastly horse while this conversation was going on. For the moment, it was standing quietly, but he swore it was watching him out of the corner of its eye.
“Perhaps nothing will come from it,” Sardelle went on, “but perhaps I may not have the luxury of remaining incognito for long. Things may get more complicated.”
“No,” Zirkander said. “This is my cabin in the woods. Things don’t get more complicated at my cabin in the woods. It doesn’t work that way. It just doesn’t.” He sounded like he knew he was being petulant—maybe he was intentionally being petulant to make a point—and sighed in the end, releasing Sardelle. “We’ll think of something.” He smiled and touched her face. “After our relaxing weekend together. This cabin is for enjoying the wilderness and appreciating the quiet time away from the city. That’s what this cabin is for. Fishing. Hunting. Star gazing. Long walks with a loved one...”
Sardelle considered the frozen lake and the snowy branches of the trees. “It’s cold for such activities, don’t you think?”
“Snuggling by a fire with a loved one is also an acceptable form of relaxation.” Zirkander gave Sardelle an eyebrow wriggle and a leer.
“Excellent. Snuggling is the perfect time to discuss agendas.”
The leer turned into an exasperated sigh, though his eyes held a share of humor.
“I think you were right,” Cas whispered to Tolemek. “She does control him. Not magically perhaps...”
“Does that mean you don’t believe there will be much relaxing this weekend?” Tolemek replied.
Cas was dismounting, so he decided he had better do so too. He threw his leg over his horse, and it chose that moment to shake the snow off its fur. Vigorously. Its timing was precise. Tolemek lost his balance and ended up on his backside again.
Zirkander grabbed the reins. “No horses in Cofahre?” he asked mildly.
Tolemek glowered as he pushed himself to his feet, noting that Cas had dismounted without trouble. “No horses that have been trained by enemy commanders to torment new allies, no.”
“Huh. Odd country.” Zirkander took Cas’s reins as well and led the two horses back to join the others.
At least he wasn’t the sort to foist chores on someone else. Tolemek had wondered if Cas, as lowest ranking military person present, might be turned into an errand girl.
“You should try to get him to like you,” Cas whispered, dusting snow off Tolemek’s clothing.
“What if I don’t like him?”
“You only feel that way because he’s treating you like an enemy right now. If he starts to like you, he’ll be roguishly charming instead of devilishly disagreeable.”
The idea of Zirkander using roguish charm on him was more alarming than the notion of a firing squad. Cas was beaming up at him with hopeful eyes though. Ugh, speaking of women being in control...
“Any suggestions for how I might accomplish this?”
“Perhaps you could challenge him to a snowball fight.”
“As if we were ten-year-old boys?” Tolemek asked.
“He’s known to have a playful side.”
“Not by the Cofah.”
“That’s because they insist on chucking grenades and cannonballs at him instead of snowballs,” Cas said.
“I doubt there’s anything they haven’t tried throwing at him at this point.”
Cas scooped up a big handful of snow and packed it into a ball.
“Are you volunteering to be on my team if a snowball battle should break out?” Tolemek imagined he could take anything Zirkander and his sorceress could hurl his way if he had Cas’s arm at his side. And he wouldn’t actually mind smacking Zirkander in the face with a heavy pile of snow. Having the other man shove him up against the wall in that tram cabin had rankled, but Tolemek hadn’t dared defend himself then. He had been so exhausted that he probably couldn’t have even if he tried.
“Not exactly.”
As soon as Cas grinned, he knew he was in trouble. Up on the split-log deck, Zirkander was in the process of unlocking the door and holding it open for Sardelle, leaving his back to Tolemek. And Cas. She threw the snowball with the speed and accuracy of a sniper’s daughter. It smacked Zirkander in the back of the neck and exploded. It would be shocking if icy chunks of snow didn’t make their way down his shirt.
When Zirkander spun around, Cas, still smiling, pointed at Tolemek.
“What?” Tolemek blurted, stunned by this betrayal. Thus, he wasn’t prepared when a cannonball-sized snow missile was launched at him.
He tried to dodge, but it caught him in the shoulder, spattering his face with slush. Tolemek wasn’t close to the cabin, the trees, or any conveniently placed cover to hide behind, so he did the only thing that made sense. He snatched up a wad of snow, hurrying to pack it into a ball. But he paused with it held aloft. Who to hit? Zirkander, for striking him? Or Cas for causing Zirkander to strike him?
In that second while he was deciding, two snowballs slammed into him from different directions. Betrayed—on all accounts. He spun, hurling his weapon in the direction of the deck. He should have checked first. Sardelle had climbed the steps, apparently to usher Zirkander inside and stop this silliness. Tolemek’s snowball exploded against her arm. Her expression wasn’t so much angry as startled. As if she couldn’t believe that he had dared strike her—well, actually he hadn’t dared... He’d misfired.
At first, Zirkander looked like he meant to leap over the railing and pummel Tolemek for targeting his lady, but she caught his arm, whispered something, then plopped a snowball into his hand.
“Oh?” he asked, then launched it.
Tolemek would have dodged, but he was busy gaping because the snowball grew in size as it sailed toward him. It wasn’t an illusion. It was bigger than his head by the time it slammed into his chest. Fortunately, it spattered into a slushy mess without hurting him, but it did cause him to step back to brace himself. That was the intent, anyway. Unfortunately, his heel slipped on something hidden beneath the snow, and he landed on his back in the white fluff.
“You’re right,” came Zirkander’s voice from the deck. “That was more satisfying.”
Cas snickered. Loudly. Tolemek hadn’t heard her laugh often, so he supposed this was worth it, so long as she decided to give tender attentions to his grave injuries later on.
She appeared over him, her impish face framed by the cloudy sky. She had another snowball in hand—how did she make the things so quickly?—but didn’t throw it, perhaps considering a downed man an unworthy target. “It’s a good thing you can make potions, because I don’t think the Iskandian army would accept you based on your fighting prowess.”
Tolemek decided the proper reply to such mocking was to grab her ankle and pull her off her feet. She squawked a startled curse. She might have fallen into the cold snow beside him—surely a suitable punishment—but he tugged her so she landed atop him instead. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to use her for a shield, keep her from tossing more snowballs at him, or employ the maneuver to encourage the pressing of her body parts against his body parts. “One would hope that Iskandian army recruits are taught to assist their comrades in battle rather than to set them up for enemy assaults.”
“You obviously haven’t been along on any academy combat drills.” Cas still had her snowball in hand—alarming—but rested her chin against his chest instead of pulling away or mashing it into his face. That was promising.
“Lieutenant Ahn?” Zirkander called from the deck. “Is that dastardly pirate using you for a shield? Or are you canoodling?”
Cas turned her head over her shoulder to respond with another grin. “Yes, sir.”
Enco
uraged, Tolemek readjusted her so that her face was in line for a kiss. He was vaguely aware of Zirkander and Sardelle going into the cabin and shutting the door.
Sardelle has announced that your training will not begin until the morning.
Tolemek managed to receive this mental intrusion without being overly distracted from his physical activities. Or perhaps he was too focused on those to care about the comment.
Just relaying information. Also, I suggest you don’t enter the cabin for a while. Jaxi did the soulblade equivalent of sighing. Humans. As randy as bonobos.
“Looks like we’ll be stuck out here for a while,” Tolemek murmured, not moving his lips far from Cas’s lips, though he managed to tilt his head toward the closed cabin door.
“You better keep me warm then.”
“I can do that.”
THE END
Blood Charged
Sardelle Terushan, sorceress and healer, should be lying low. Magic is forbidden in Iskandia, and magic users are drowned, shot, or otherwise slain. The problem? She's fallen in love with ace fighter pilot and national hero, Colonel Ridge Zirkander, a man whom everybody notices, including the king. It's not long before Sardelle has spies dogging her steps and people trying to blow her up. Worse, her presence is jeopardizing Ridge's career. If she can't find a solution to the nation's centuries-old hatred of magic, the only way to protect Ridge—and herself—may be to leave.
Ridge Zirkander isn't used to worrying about more than shooting down Cofah airships and keeping the officers in his squadron alive, but his world has gotten more complicated since giving his heart to Sardelle. It's difficult to keep people from noticing a mysterious and enigmatic woman, not to mention her chatty sentient sword. He's been passing her off as an archaeologist to his fellow pilots, but when the king calls him in to a private meeting, Ridge fears his secret has been discovered.
But the king—and the rest of the country—has a greater problem. Cofah military scientists have acquired something that shouldn't exist in the world any longer: dragon blood. In addition to having countless mysterious properties, it's a powerful energy source that can be used to create devastating weapons. Ridge, Sardelle, and their allies must travel to the empire as part of a secret strike force to steal the dragon blood. If they fail, the Cofah will finally have the power to destroy all of Iskandia.
Chapter 1
Sardelle was being followed.
She hadn’t seen her pursuer yet, but her sorceress’s senses told her a woman was back there, skulking through the slushy alleys of Pinoth. Her senses also told her the woman was armed. The large hunting knife hanging from her belt shouldn’t prove too much of a threat, but the six-shooter nestled in her palm? If prepared, Sardelle could shield herself from bullets, but doing so in the middle of the magic-fearing Iskandian capital with dozens of witnesses around… even if she wasn’t physically harmed, she would be in trouble.
Sardelle quickened her step.
You should have brought me with you, Jaxi, her sentient soulblade, spoke into her mind.
As I’ve pointed out several times, women wandering around with swords are an oddity in this age. For the first couple of weeks she had been in the city, Sardelle had worn Jaxi beneath her cloak, in part because she hadn’t wanted to risk losing her after working so hard to retrieve her from that mine, and in part because she hadn’t realized how much fashions had changed during the three hundred years she had slept in that mage stasis chamber. Soldiers still carried swords as part of their uniform, but firearms were the norm, and women who worried about defending themselves on the streets preferred pistols they could slip into their handbags. Thanks to her relationship with the most famous pilot in the city, if not in all of Iskandia, there were already enough rumors floating around about her. She didn’t need to draw extra attention by not fitting in with the locals. Fortunately, without the soulblade, she looked no different than any other Iskandian woman, dark hair, pale skin, a few freckles across the nose…
And the ability to flambé hordes of enemy soldiers with a wave of your hand.
Sardelle snorted. Pyrotechnics are your specialty.
Yes, and I’m quite fabulous at them. After a pause, Jaxi added, Your shadow has taken to the rooftops to keep up with you without being noticed. Her finger is tight on that trigger too.
I know.
You could hop onto the roof, pin her down, cut off her air for a while so she knows you’re serious, then demand to know why she’s following you.
Unless you’re suggesting I impose upon her physically to do all those things, I would be confirming something she can only suspect at this point.
Physical imposition is perfectly acceptable, but from the way she’s hopping from rooftop to rooftop, she may be more than your match in that area.
Sardelle thought about pointing out that she had hopped a few rooftops in her day, but Jaxi was fully aware of her abilities… and weaknesses.
You tripped and skinned your knee the last time you hopped a log.
Thanks for the reminder. Sardelle turned down a side street, hoping her spy would be slowed down by having to cross the wide boulevard before skimming up to another rooftop. A sudden hope kindled. She’s not Cofah, is she?
Pale skin. She looks like a native.
Sardelle sighed. She would have worried less if a spy from the empire verified her secrets. Nobody here would listen to a Cofah woman’s accusations against her.
A steam wagon mounted with large guns trundled down the street, clattering and clanking across timeworn cobblestones. The cargo area in the back was covered. On impulse, Sardelle jumped onto the back and clung to a bar at the corner.
Very nice. You didn’t even skin a knee.
Ignoring Jaxi, Sardelle watched over her shoulder, hoping she would spot her follower stuck up on a rooftop and quickly falling behind. The woman didn’t show herself.
The steam wagon belched stinky black smoke into the air, and the bumps and shudders from driving on the cobblestones made Sardelle’s teeth clatter together, but it moved along at a faster speed than she could walk. They cruised past shoppers, workers, and bicycle messengers braving the slushy streets and fearlessly weaving past steam vehicles, horses, and donkeys pulling carts. The miles-long harbor came into view, a mixture of fishing vessels, freighters, and warships on maneuvers out in the water. Sardelle’s gaze drifted to the butte towering at the south end. From the ground, she couldn’t see much of the airbase, but she had been up there enough times to imagine the runways and its hangars full of mechanical dragon fliers. The sky over the sea was clear, the wind stiller than usual. Maybe the pilots would have practice maneuvers scheduled for the day.
Isn’t your doting lover going to a meeting this morning?
Ah, that was right. Ridge wouldn’t be out there, even if the fliers did take to the sky. Not unless an alarm sounded, and his whole squadron was called to duty.
Your spy is falling behind, but still following. She may know where you’re going.
Unfortunately, that was a possibility. This was Sardelle’s third day heading to the public archives building for research. Maybe another visitor had noticed her there yesterday and thought her suspicious, or maybe the woman who worked at the assistance desk had reported to someone about Sardelle’s unflagging interest in the place—judging by the dust smothering the shelves, very few had even passing interest in the archives building.
I’m not going to turn around and go back to Ridge’s cottage to weep quietly over my lost friends, family, and life while waiting for him to come home for the night. Sardelle had done enough of that during her first weeks in town. True, she had been working on those communications devices for Ridge’s squadron more often than she had been mourning—sulking, Jaxi had called it—so it hadn’t been wasted time, but she was eager to make headway on the mission she had given herself: to track down her kin, however many generations removed, and search for other Iskandians with dragon blood. Then she would teach those who were willing how to use
their powers. It would be the mission of a lifetime, and finding those people wouldn’t be easy, not when anyone with inexplicable talents learned to hide them early on. The archives building was the only place in town that might tell her if her brother or any of her cousins had survived the purging of the Referatu and had children who had kept the line alive through the centuries. She particularly wanted to find her brother’s descendants, to make sure they were well. He had teased and tormented her relentlessly all through childhood, and she had rarely visited him in adulthood, but now that it was too late… a lump of regret formed in her throat whenever she thought about it.
I wasn’t suggesting you abandon your quest or fill your days with knitting scarves like the old woman next door, but you could come home to get me, so you’d be better able to defend yourself.
I can defend myself fine on my own.
I never would have chosen to bond with you if I’d known you would leave me under the bed for days on end with nothing for company but dust balls.
I’m quite positive there are no dust balls under Ridge’s bed. The wagon turned off the main street. When a bicycle wobbled into its path, forcing it to slow down, Sardelle hopped off. Besides, a couple of days of inaction should be nothing after three hundred years of being cooped up inside a mountain. It’s scarcely been three weeks since you had that big adventure with Tolemek.
You mean the big adventure where he used me as a lamp, because I can glow nicely?
You also incinerated a deadly weapon that was seconds away from killing thousands of people. Something Sardelle wished Jaxi had figured out she could do before Sardelle had promised to help rescue Tolemek’s sister from some sanitarium an ocean and thousands of miles away and to teach her how to use magic.
Fussy, fussy. I thought you wanted new students.
I do, but it would be more feasible to look for them here. Maybe it was selfish, but Sardelle was more interested in teaching her own people than someone who came from the continent that had been trying to conquer Iskandia for centuries. Nor was she positive Tolemek’s sister, reputedly disturbed in the mind, would be teachable.
The Dragon Blood Collection, Books 1-3 Page 50