05 Dragon Blood: The Blade's Memory by Lindsay Buroker


  “Come here,” he murmured, perhaps reading the conflicted thoughts on her face. He lifted his arm, and she leaned against his side, resting her head on his chest.

  “Ready?” she asked softly, feeling this time that she needed to warn him first.

  “Yeah.” He sounded nervous.

  As soon as she started sharing her experiences from the night before, she wondered if words might have been better. Before she got to the point where they had walked in and found Apex, tears were pricking at her eyes. She hadn’t cried yet, not seriously, so maybe it was fitting, but she wondered what it said about her life that every time she did this with Ridge, she ended up in tears. Still, being in his arms and having him stroke her hair was comforting. She should have been trying to comfort him, but she did not know what she could say or think that would accomplish that.

  “I should have figured out a way to keep Kaika from going to the castle in the first place,” Ridge said when Sardelle finished. “Nothing good came from that mission.”

  Except that they had learned of the queen’s involvement in the Heartwood Sisterhood. Sardelle knew she shouldn’t be relieved that the woman was dead now, but she couldn’t help but hope it meant those people would try less hard to come after her. At the least, they should have access to fewer resources now. If only Sardelle could have achieved that without Apex’s death.

  “I shouldn’t have yelled at Apex, either,” Ridge murmured, his words barely audible. “Should have kept him with Duck. Should have…”

  Sardelle lifted her face enough to see his, to see the moisture glistening in his eyes. She wished she had thought to bring out something alcoholic to share with him. That seemed to be his preferred method for dealing with death and devastation. But perhaps there was no time. He had spoken of trouble on the horizon, and the king wanted to be flown back to the capital soon.

  She laid her palm against his cheek, rubbing the stubble on his chin with her thumb. “I’m sorry,” she whispered and kissed him. It was the only solace she could offer, and it seemed so inadequate.

  Ridge pulled her closer and rested his face against the top of her head. “I’m afraid things aren’t going to get any better.”

  She brushed his thoughts, and he shared his experience with the reconnaissance craft—and his belief that many more of those craft were out there, perhaps along with a flotilla of airships out at sea. Airships armed with those awful target-seeking rockets and who knew what other devastating weapons.

  “I need to talk to Angulus,” Ridge said, “get him back to town and pray he’ll give me permission to walk back onto base. And that he’ll walk with me to the radio tower and send a message to the other bases, one they can’t ignore.”

  “I doubt everybody ignored your message.” Sardelle leaned back so he could get up.

  “I don’t know. I haven’t seen any friendly fliers in the sky yet, and we’re close enough to the coast that we ought to see them heading to the capital.” He shook his head and stood.

  “Ridge? Is the king… He seems approachable. Are you and he close enough that—”

  “He’ll forgive his wife’s death? I don’t know. We’re not close. You may have noticed my family isn’t exactly royal. Most of them aren’t usually sober, either. And I’ve never chatted with him before without General Ort or one of my other superiors along, kicking me in the leg under the table to make sure I stay properly respectful.”

  Even though his expression remained grave, Sardelle smiled at the image.

  You should ask him how respectful he was being when he was dangling from that vine and eavesdropping outside of the king’s greenhouse.

  “If it’s any consolation,” Sardelle said. “I’ve known a lot of people with royal blood who consider drinking their predominant hobby. I don’t think that predilection has much to do with bloodlines and nobility.”

  Cas is on her way back. She’s several miles out, but I thought you should know.

  Trepidation seeped into Sardelle’s stomach. If Jaxi had sensed her from this far away… She doesn’t have that sword, does she?

  No, I can sense familiar auras even if they’re not carrying ancient swords with bad attitudes.

  Good to know.

  You also might want to know that Kaika is in there talking to the king.

  In… the washroom? Sardelle knew Kaika had a lustful nature, but she couldn’t imagine her propositioning the man in the tub.

  Jaxi issued a mental snort. No, in the living room. She’s telling him what happened while wringing her hands and avoiding his eyes.

  She’s braver than I am.

  By the way, Jaxi added. We would have beaten him, in a fair fight. Kasandral. I wasn’t trying that hard because I didn’t want to eviscerate Cas.

  I never doubted you. Sardelle did doubt whether fighting fair was one of Kasandral’s tenets, but she did not add that thought.

  “From what he told me, she’s not—she wasn’t—the love of his life,” Ridge said after a thoughtful moment. “Perhaps eventually he could forgive those who caused that loss.” He nudged a loose flagstone with his boot. “He is rather proud of his castle though. So is the city. You don’t know how many committee meetings he has to suffer through just to get the approval to paint a wall. I’m afraid the king may not forgive you two for collapsing that back corner.”

  Ridge’s words sounded light and playful, and he brushed a few strands of hair behind her ear, but his smile was forced, and his eyes remained grim. She could tell he wasn’t sure how this flight path would end up looking. Even if the queen and the king had not been soul mates, Angulus would surely miss someone he had spent more than twenty years of his life with.

  She sensed Ridge’s hope that the king could put the need to defend the city above personal grudges, that Angulus would see the wisdom in getting all of the fliers back home so they could be sent out to do some reconnaissance of their own.

  Ridge stroked her hair a few times, then sighed and headed toward the front door. Sardelle tried not to feel guilty that so many of her thoughts had been about her own future and about personal repercussions for her actions, when all of his involved protecting the city.

  That’s what you get for falling in love with a noble man.

  I know.

  If it helps, he is rather insistent in his thoughts that he get to lead the way in protecting the city.

  He knows he’s the best person to command the fliers.

  And he likes that fact.

  Sardelle smiled slightly. I know you’re not calling Ridge narcissistic.

  What does that mean?

  Nothing, Jaxi. Nothing at all.

  Chapter 14

  Ridge eyed the open window, the sound of Captain Kaika’s voice drifting out as she described the previous night’s events to the king. Her voice was tense, and she stared down at her clasped hands as she sat on the edge of the couch while he stood and listened with his arms folded across his chest. Ridge was tempted to listen, as well, so he might hear the king’s reaction and be prepared for it the next time they spoke. Ultimately, he decided that he should not spy on King Angulus twice in the same month.

  Since they looked like they might be discussing events for a while, Ridge continued on around the side of the house. His first thought was to check in on Tolemek—and the noxious blue smoke wafting from the kitchen windows. It was too soon to ask if he had come up with a weapon to use against invaders, but Ridge hoped he was making progress.

  Before going inside, Ridge spotted Duck in the back yard, still sitting on the fence. He had no idea what words of comfort he might offer, especially when he felt responsible for Apex’s death, but he detoured in that direction. Duck did not look up as he approached.

  Ridge leaned against the fence beside him, wishing he had something useful he could say. Comforting people wasn’t his strong suit, unless getting them drunk counted. But he dared not do that now, not when he could be called to leave any minute. Too bad, because he wouldn’t have minded a stiff dri
nk. Apex’s face kept entering his thoughts, that hurt expression he had worn when Ridge had told him to fix the problem he had made. Now all Ridge could do was wish he had handled that better. Sending the man off alone… what had he been thinking? He had been angry. He hadn’t been thinking.

  A cat stalked past, hunting a moth. A couple of yards over, a lady feeding chickens stole glances in their direction. After landing in the closest field he could, Ridge had done his best to hustle Angulus to the house without attracting attention, but he was sure a few neighbors had spotted him. That was another reason to leave soon. The last thing Angulus needed was a bunch of rural folk coming to him about problems with neighbors stealing cows or letting dogs run through their chicken pens.

  “You going to be able to fly?” Ridge asked. “I’m going to do my best to make sure there are some fliers in our hangar come dawn.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I know it’s hard to lose people—friends—especially when…” He stopped himself from saying the death had been meaningless. Apex had been there, trying to redeem himself, trying to do what Ridge had asked. That wasn’t meaningless. What was meaningless was the queen’s bloody tirade against anyone who might have the slightest ability to perform magic. He should have been enraged by her actions, but it was hard to feel rage toward a dead person. “It’s just always hard,” he finished when Duck looked at him.

  “Sir, I don’t understand… I mean, I probably would have done the same thing if the queen had come up to me and told me to stick a tracker on my flier. Are you even allowed to refuse royal orders? What else could he have done?”

  “He could have told me about it, and I would have stalked into the castle and shoved that device up the queen’s big, padded—” Remembering that the house windows were open, Ridge lowered his voice and amended his last word to, “—nose.”

  Duck managed a brief half smile. “You probably would have done that, sir.” His smile faded quickly, and he stared down at the mud. “I owed him a beer. Never got a chance to get back to town and buy it.”

  “A life lesson. You should never delay the mutual consumption of alcohol.”

  “I know people die, sir. We’ve lost friends before, but it seems to make more sense when you’re defending your country, fighting back those Cofah bastards, you know? This was just—to get randomly shot by some castle guard… such a waste.”

  Ridge lifted his brows but managed to keep from asking who had told him that version of the story. Kaika? He didn’t think Sardelle would have lied to protect Ahn’s reputation or to make things easier, if only because she was a lousy liar, but perhaps Kaika had wanted to spare contention among the officers. It might not be a bad idea, since they were going to have to fly together again.

  “Apex was a good man,” Duck went on. “His anger with Tolemek… I understood why he hated him. I didn’t have that personal connection to Tanglewood, but it was horrible, sir. I… It doesn’t make sense to me, why good men die young and evil men who are murderers will probably live to be old, crusty geezers.” Duck glanced toward the kitchen window.

  Hatred didn’t roil off him, not the way it had for Apex when they had first left for the mission to Cofahre with Tolemek in the back of Ahn’s flier, but Ridge doubted Duck would ever be friends with the former “Deathmaker.” So long as he was willing to use any weapons Tolemek came up with to defend the homeland.

  “Fate and fairness don’t usually go hand-in-hand,” Ridge said, “but you know some of those Cofah who fly against us are probably good men, too, men who are just following orders, the same as us. Over there, we’d be considered the murderers. It would take wiser men than us to decide what’s good and what’s evil. We’re better off following orders and accepting that the world doesn’t always make sense. Then coming home and drinking beer.” He patted Duck on the back. “We’ll have one together when this is all over, all right?”

  “Yes, sir.” A yawn almost swallowed Duck’s last word.

  “Go get some sleep. I think the bedroom’s open.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Ridge wouldn’t have minded a spot to rest for a few hours, either, but as soon as the king finished talking to Kaika, he would want his ride back into the city. Ridge wondered what version of the story she was giving him. He also wondered if he might have liked things better if he had also received that version. Knowing it had been Lieutenant Ahn’s hand that had slain Apex did not make anything easier. He didn’t blame her—as soon as Sardelle had frowned doubtfully at that sword, he should have found a way to lock it away somewhere that nobody could use it. But he did worry that Ahn would blame herself, and he didn’t think anything good could come of that. What if she never came back at all?

  She’s actually turning onto this street now, Sardelle whispered into his thoughts. She was leaning against the wall at the corner of the house. Had she heard him talking to Duck? Or maybe she was eavesdropping on the king’s conversation, as he had thought to do.

  We had this discussion before. Sardelle smiled at him. It’s not eavesdropping if I happen to be standing nearby while you’re discussing things in a normal tone of voice in an open area.

  Yes, I do remember that. Does the same rule apply if you’re hanging from a vine while listening?

  Whoever would listen while hanging from a vine?

  Never mind. I better go meet Ahn. She doesn’t have that cursed blade with her, does she?

  No. We left it in the rubble at the castle.

  Rubble that would eventually be cleared. He grimaced. If the king was still talking to him after he heard the full story, Ridge would have to lobby for someone to have that thing taken out to sea and dropped in the Forbidden Trench.

  As Ridge circled toward the front of the house, he watched Sardelle walk through the kitchen door. A great plume of smoke wafted out as she entered. Once everyone cleared out of the house—and there was no risk of the king overhearing any yelling—Ridge expected a lecture from his mother. A loud one.

  Ahn stood in front of the house, looking at the front door, as if debating whether she truly wanted to go up and knock. He could understand the sentiment. Her short hair was tousled, her clothes ripped and stained, and her slouch hinted of weariness far greater than anyone as young as she was should feel. He did not see a horse, so she might have walked the entire way. She held an envelope, the creamy, smudge-free paper contrasting with her dirty hand.

  When she spotted him, she stood straighter, her hand twitching upward. It didn’t make it all the way to a salute. Instead, her shoulders slumped again, and she stared bleakly at his boots.

  Ridge walked over, having no more idea of what to say to her than he had for Duck. For lack of a better opening, he started the same way.

  “You going to be able to fly? I’m trying to get our machines back. I got the king—” Ridge pointed his thumb toward the house, “—so that might happen more easily now.”

  Ahn blinked a few times and stared at the front door. That probably was not the opening she had expected.

  “Yes, sir,” she said. “I mean… I can if you need me to, but I…” She looked down at the envelope, took a slow breath, then held it out to him. “I came to report for punishment and also to resign my commission.”

  Ridge looked at the envelope without moving his hand to accept it.

  “I know I’ll still be tried by military law… when that time comes, but I can’t go back to—” She swallowed and looked down the street. A couple of chickens were wandering in the dirt lane, pecking for bugs. “I figure if I’m going to be killing people indiscriminately, I might as well be working for my father.”

  “Ahn,” Ridge said, then gripped her shoulder. “Caslin. I can’t promise that there won’t be repercussions for the choices we’ve all made here—especially me—but see what they are first. Don’t assume—look, I get it. The queen gave some order, and the sword leaped to obey. You were just the one holding it.”

  “I chose to be holding it, sir.” Ahn dropped her gaze agai
n. “It had some pull I don’t understand, but I should have seen through that. I don’t even like swords. They’re barbaric. Who chooses to kill someone like that?” Her voice cracked on the word kill, and she blinked again, this time not with surprise but to stave off tears.

  Ridge released her. He had no idea what to say. He thought about offering her a hug, but he was probably part of the problem, since he represented authority—as ironic as that may be—and she expected punishment. As difficult as he found it to admit, Tolemek was the better person for her to talk to right now. Of everyone here, he could truly understand what it was like to be powerless to stop deaths one was responsible for.

  “Let’s worry about it after we’ve dealt with the Cofah threat,” Ridge said. “I shot down a reconnaissance flier this morning, so you better believe more will be coming. In the meantime, Tolemek is in the kitchen, sooting up the walls and hopefully not asphyxiating my mom’s cats. Maybe you should check on him.”

  From the mixed expression on her face, she wasn’t as certain as he was that Tolemek was the right person for her to see, but she said, “Yes, sir.” She took a step toward the door, but paused again and lifted the envelope. “Will you accept my resignation? For after the battle?”

  “No, I won’t. You know I hate paperwork. You’ll have to see if General Ort will take that.”

  “Isn’t he still missing?”

  “Yes, he is. Just try giving it to him.”

  Before she could object further, Ridge pointed her toward the kitchen door, so she wouldn’t walk through the king’s meeting. Sardelle must have told Tolemek that Ahn had arrived, because that side door opened, and he stepped out.

  Ahn was only a few steps from the house, but she hesitated, dropping her gaze to the walkway. Tolemek crossed the distance and wrapped her in a hug, lowering his face to the top of her head. Ahn tipped forward, leaning her forehead into his chest, but she did not return the hug. Her arms drooped at her sides with her shoulders slumped. Ridge couldn’t remember seeing anyone look so dejected.

 
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