The Dragon Blood Collection, Books 1-3

by Lindsay Buroker

  Kaika had been on the move as she had spoken, and she waved over her shoulder at his protest. She did pause in front of Apex, who was standing in the shadows, glowering out at the night and sneaking glances at Tolemek.

  “You always this grumpy, L.T.? You’ve been wearing my granddad’s face since I met you. He’s got colitis. What’s your excuse?”

  Apex opened and closed his mouth a couple of times. Flustered? Sardelle hadn’t seen the two talking much. Duck seemed a little moon-eyed toward Kaika, but Apex either hadn’t noticed she was a woman with some curves under her uniform, or he didn’t care.

  “I am not grumpy,” he said. “I’m… perturbed.”

  “Well, relax some, will you?” Kaika gave him a kiss on the cheek, then sauntered out to the horses.

  Now it was Duck’s turn to open and close his mouth a number of times, before stammering, “What just happened?”

  “Captain Kaika is more into grumps than horses,” Ridge said, then walked over to Sardelle. He turned his back on the two lieutenants, Duck looking like he wanted to strangle Apex and Apex looking confused. In a lower voice, Ridge asked, “Did you still want to talk to me, or, ah, did we already do it?” He pointed two fingers at his eyes, then at hers.

  Sardelle took his hand—there were enough shadows that nobody should notice, not that he ever worried that much about displaying affection in front of his people. “If Tolemek chooses to find alternative transportation back with his sister, do you want me to stay with them or come back to you?”

  Ridge looked out toward the horses, where Tolemek was finishing packing. The two captains were already riding away. “I wish there was a way to communicate with you from afar. The… mind thing, that’s only for close range, right? I think I remember you saying that.”

  “For me, it is. Jaxi can communicate with me over a couple hundred miles, at least.”

  “Could she relay messages to me?”

  Not unless he jabs some of that dragon blood into his veins and learns to improve his mental reception to slightly greater than that of a rock.

  “Jaxi says it’s doubtful.”

  Jaxi made an obnoxious noise in Sardelle’s head, something between a snort and a bout of flatulence.

  Bout of flatulence? That captain is right. You’re overly socialized.

  She didn’t say that.

  She was thinking it.

  “I could leave Jaxi with you,” Sardelle said, the idea not all that repellent at the moment.

  What? You’re tromping into enemy territory with a pirate. You may need me.

  Ridge’s face screwed up, as doubtful as Jaxi’s thoughts.

  I’m sure I can muster my meager skills enough to defend myself. On the other hand, if Ridge and his team are discovered, they have nothing except mundane weapons for defense. “That way we could communicate through Jaxi, and you could let me know what you think—and if any trouble finds you back here.” Sardelle would find a way to hurry back here if that happened. “Those aircraft at the watchtower may be nothing more than a hint as to what they’re doing with that blood.”

  “I guess it wouldn’t matter to me,” Ridge said. “I hate to deny you your companion.”

  Sardelle unbuckled her sword belt and handed it to him, almost laughing because she had found it amusing that Ahn had given Tolemek her favorite gun. How was this different?

  I could cut her favorite gun in half with a thought, that’s how. Now Jaxi sounded grumpy. Too bad Kaika wasn’t here to kiss her.

  Ugh, I’ll hold out for the dragon.

  Ridge accepted the belt gingerly. “Any special instructions?”

  “Don’t leave her under a bed.”

  “Should I wear the belt, or would she be offended by that? I can put her in the cockpit of my flier if that’s best.”

  “Wear the belt if you go anywhere, please. As you’ve seen, Jaxi can protect herself—with hurled kitchen pots and pictures if nothing else.”

  Pardon you, but I was only responsible for two pots. And no pictures. The burglars made the rest of that mess. You better take that book along and figure out who those people were before heading back to Iskandia.

  I’m not sure I’ll be going back, or at least not staying long if I do. Sardelle smiled to Ridge, trying not to let the sad thought show on her face. “I would be upset if she were somehow lost.”

  He clasped her hands. “I know you would.”

  What do you mean you might not be going back?

  I haven’t decided yet, but it’s what we talked about before. I’m afraid I’ve complicated his life, and not in a good way.

  “I’ll keep her safe,” Ridge said and lowered his head, kissing her gently, his affection wrapping around her like a favorite cloak on a cold night. It made her heart ache, and tears pricked at her eyes.

  Afraid he would notice, Sardelle stepped back, breaking the kiss. “I better not delay him. Traveling at night will be easier.” She took a step, but paused, reaching up to run her hand down the side of his face, as if she could memorize the contours with her fingers.

  “Safe journey, Sardelle,” he said, a hint of concern in his voice, not just for her journey, she sensed, but because he thought she was acting a little oddly.

  “You too,” she whispered. She would explain later. This wasn’t the time.

  Chapter 8

  The first light of dawn seeped through the gaps between the slats on the freight train. It was the second morning since Sardelle and Tolemek had left Ridge and the others. She leaned against the wall, her eyes closed, her senses open. They had left the countryside and entered Mason Valley, a more populated area where the asylum waited.

  Cattle filled the car, and in the hours they had been cooped up, Tolemek had been pinned a couple of times by furry haunches. That was his fault for trying to pace in the crowded area. Sardelle simply stood in one spot, and the animals avoided her, but he kept gnawing on his knuckles and walking back and forth. A testament to his distraction, he had apologized more than once to the big animals when he bumped one. Or maybe he was simply a more polite ex-pirate than she had realized. He hadn’t been talking to her that much. She was inclined to give him his privacy, but if he had some plan in mind, she would need to know about it soon.

  “Will they let us in if we smell like a farm?” she asked over the clicketyclack of the train wheels.

  “What?” Tolemek lifted his head, his dark ropy tangles of hair shadowing his face.

  In the wan lighting, Sardelle couldn’t see his expression, but she sensed the nervousness emanating from him and snatches of thought floating on the surface of his mind. Would his sister still be there? He hadn’t visited in three years. Would they be able to get in? Would she want to go with him if she was there? If his father had been visiting, he could have been telling her lies about him. Or the truth. Just as bad. Would she even remember him? She had been mad with moments of lucidity the last time he had seen her. What if she had grown worse since then?

  “You’ve stepped in cow dung at least three times during your pacing,” Sardelle said, thinking he might appreciate a distraction from his musings. “And we both smell fragrant.”

  He stared at her, apparently unamused by her attempt at distracting him. She shouldn’t be that surprised. She had never been the class jokester during her school days.

  “I wasn’t planning to walk up to the reception desk and ask for permission to see her,” Tolemek said.

  “No?”

  “There’s a kitchen in the back of the building. I thought we’d go through that door, sneak up to the second floor, find her room, and simply…”

  “Kidnap her?” Sardelle suggested.

  “It would only be kidnapping if she didn’t want to come.” He lifted his eyes toward the wooden ceiling of the car. “Which is a possibility, I fear.”

  “I thought you two were close at one point.” Sardelle already understood his concerns, but he might feel better if he spoke about them.

  “We were. After my brother di
ed…” He sighed. “It doesn’t matter right now. I just need to find her first and see how much of her… of her remains.”

  Of her sanity, that had been what he’d almost said.

  “If it helps, I haven’t heard of many cases where the ability to use magic drives someone crazy,” Sardelle said. “It can account for moodiness, and I’ve heard of suicides, especially in those who weren’t trained, but split personalities and other personality disorders are rare, or at least not any more common among the gifted than in the mundane.”

  “Was that supposed to be comforting?” he snapped.

  She drew back, startled at his anger. Then she realized he had latched onto one of her words. Suicides.

  “I’m sorry.” Tolemek bowed his head in a further apology. “I don’t have the right to question you or snarl at you.”

  Sardelle spread a hand. “Of course you do. I’m just a person.”

  He gave her a wry shake of his head. “No, you’re not. Regardless, I appreciate you coming with me. And Zirkander arranging this. I honestly didn’t expect any of that.”

  “I gave you my word I would help when you saved the city.”

  “I know, but you were desperate. And keeping your word to an enemy, that’s not something most people would bother with, especially someone…” Tolemek extended a hand toward her.

  “I’m not supposed to keep my word because I’m a sorceress?”

  “It’s not as if there would be repercussions that could affect you if you didn’t.”

  “That’s when integrity matters most, isn’t it?” Sardelle frowned, disturbed that he thought so little of her, or maybe it was of sorcerers in general. Had she done something to give him a poor impression of her? She knew people sometimes mistook her quiet reserve for aloofness or indifference, but she didn’t feel that way.

  “I’m not fit to judge a person’s integrity,” he said dryly.

  Ah, maybe that was what lay behind his reasoning—his own mistakes in the past. He didn’t believe he was worthy of someone’s word?

  “It was the magic affecting her,” Tolemek said. “I’m certain of it. I tested her in every manner I knew how, and I couldn’t find a mundane explanation for her change.”

  “The mind is a complicated organ. Science may have advanced a great deal in the last few hundred years, but I think it’ll be a few hundred more before the brain is completely understood.”

  Tolemek shifted to avoid a restless cow with the ability to crush his foot with one misstep.

  “When did she change?” Sardelle asked. “She was normal growing up?”

  “A little quirky, but mostly normal, yes.”

  She wagered that his family would have described him as a quirky kid too.

  “It was after our older brother died, and after I gave up on my dream and entered the military to appease my father. I came back on leave when I was… twenty-one, or so, I guess. We’re twelve years apart, so she was nine then. She remembered me, but she also kept talking to herself when nobody was around. Sometimes she seemed to be talking to someone else. She displayed a few powers, being able to knock things over with her mind when she was angry, and my parents grew afraid. My mother was afraid for her, but my father was more afraid of what the neighbors would think.”

  “He sounds like a lovely man.” Sardelle wondered if Tolemek and Ahn had shared stories of their fathers with each other. Maybe that had facilitated their unlikely relationship.

  A steam whistle screeched. The car shuddered as the engine slowed down.

  “We should get out before it comes to a full stop. We’ll be less likely to be spotted that way.” Tolemek eyed the sliding door on the side of the car. Five or six tightly packed cows stood between him and it. Odd that a scientist who had concocted countless clever potions and devices should seem daunted by animals. Granted, they were large and did tend to give a person flat, unfriendly stares.

  Sardelle gave them gentle nudges with her mind, and they shifted aside to let her pass. Tolemek followed in her wake.

  She slid the door open, revealing warehouses and factories in the bowl of the valley with houses dotting the hillsides. Night lingered, and lanterns burned all over the city, but people were already walking and riding in the streets. There weren’t any lights in the cargo car, and she doubted anyone would notice the open door. As soon as the train slowed to a speed where they could jump out without breaking any bones, Tolemek hopped into the gravel lining the tracks. Sardelle jumped after him and, with a flick of her mind, closed the door behind her, so the cattle would stay put. She had no sooner landed than a voice rang out above the chugging of the train.

  “Stowaways!”

  A deep-voiced dog bayed a cry that must have meant something similar.

  “Run,” Tolemek urged, sprinting through the gravel and toward a chain-link fence with barbed wire lining the top. These Cofah were serious about keeping their cattle from escaping.

  Tolemek, being taller and more athletic than she, sprang to the top of the fence and leaped over, scarcely impeded by the barbed wire. As Sardelle reached the bottom and was about to climb after him, the first shots fired. A bullet skipped off the gravel, inches from her heels.

  “The hells with climbing,” she muttered and flung out a hand, slicing through the chain with her mind. She raised a barrier about herself in case another bullet came while she was pushing through.

  But the next shot came from three feet away: Tolemek firing toward the guard charging down the gravel path toward them. He didn’t hit the man—the bullet clanged off the side of the moving train rolling past a couple of feet away. The guard faltered, probably realizing he wasn’t dealing with a couple of unarmed kids.

  Sardelle had time to squeeze through the fence and sprint into an alley. Tolemek was waiting for her at the mouth, but he took off as soon as she joined him. She pushed herself to match his long legs and keep up with him.

  “Was that because he spotted my pale skin, or do all stowaways get shot on sight here?” Sardelle asked.

  “Dodging the fare is a crime. He was probably shooting to scare, but I couldn’t be sure.”

  They ran three blocks before Tolemek turned onto a broad residential street lined with gas lamps. No, those were kerosene lamps, Sardelle realized. Maybe gas lighting wasn’t as common here yet as it was in the cities of Iskandia.

  A donkey-drawn wagon rolled past in front of them, and Tolemek slowed to a walk. He slipped his pistol into its holster and covered it with his coat.

  “Lieutenant Ahn will be disappointed in you,” Sardelle said, catching her breath.

  “Because I shot at someone with her gun? I think that’s why she gave it to me.”

  “Because you missed.”

  “Oh. That was intentional. I would prefer not to leave piles of bodies behind on this quest. My sister was always a gentle soul, despite the moments of craziness where she occasionally hurt people. She wouldn’t approve of me using violence to get her out.”

  “Good.” Even if Sardelle had always considered the Cofah enemies, it was their military and government she had a problem with, not the average subject. “I do appreciate you watching out for me.” She kept her voice low, since there were people out in the street, and they would doubtlessly find it odd to hear an Iskandian accent in their town. She had pulled up the hood of her cloak, as well, and wore gloves to hide her pale hands.

  Tolemek gave her a sidelong look. “I suspect you would have been fine without my help. I… sensed you doing something.” His voice had taken on an odd note.

  She had given him a few lessons on developing his power at Ridge’s cabin in the woods, but Tolemek had yet to grow accustomed to using his talents or truly comfortable with the idea that he might have talents. Non-mundane ones, anyway.

  “Cutting through the fence and erecting an invisible barrier around myself to protect against projectiles,” she said. “And pokey fence pieces.”

  Tolemek snorted and raised his own hand. It was too dark to make out deta
ils, but there was a dark smudge on his palm? Blood? Maybe he hadn’t cleared that barbed wire as easily as it had seemed.

  “The sanitarium is on the hill up there.” He pointed toward the end of the residential area and to a gray stone building perched on the ridge. Two dark towers rose like gargoyles, scowling down into the valley.

  “That looks more like a prison than a hospital.”

  “Now you know why I hated the idea of my sister being sent there.” Thoughts of his father arose in his head again, of a violent fight that had involved blows.

  Sardelle turned her focus elsewhere, toward the people they passed. She needed to know if any of them found these two strangers odd. It wasn’t a small town, but Mason Valley lacked the anonymity of a metropolis. Most were worried about getting to work rather than watching for strangers.

  They climbed a dirt road that ran up the slope in switchbacks. In the town, the snow had been cleared from the streets, but out here, the only bare spots were muddy ruts cut by wagons. Sardelle eyed the towers. She didn’t sense anyone in them, but asked the question that came to mind, nonetheless.

  “Will anybody be on guard and watching our approach?”

  “I doubt it. It used to be a castle, and there are spots for guards, but I’ve never seen anyone up there. There are guards who walk the halls inside however. There’s more danger of the patients trying to escape than anyone breaking in.”

  Instead of continuing to the front gate, Tolemek veered off the road and into the snow. He walked along the thick gray building toward the first corner. A few windows dotted the walls, but they were more like arrow slits than anything designed to allow in light and air. Sardelle couldn’t imagine the rooms—cells?—inside were comfortable, and a quiet rage began to grow in her breast for this girl who had been imprisoned here because her father had been worried about what the neighbors might think of her unexplained outbursts.

  Not as bad as being chained up with rocks and hurled into a lake to drown. Jaxi’s voice sounded more faintly in her head than usual—the train had taken them over a hundred and fifty miles, on top of the ten they had ridden before arriving in a town with a station.