6.0 - Raptor (25 page)

What do you have to do with my wit and appeal, Jaxi?

I’m part of the package. I suspect the inside of Ridge’s head was very boring before he had my insights in there.

Are you sharing insights with him right now?
Sardelle couldn’t imagine that he would appreciate that when he was trying to fix his fortress walls.

Possibly. Mostly I’m reading a book about swords and other tools crafted to fight dragons and sorcerers. Mostly dragons, since they did so much damage in battle, but sorcerers could be harmed by them as a byproduct.

So I’ve seen.
Sardelle still had a scar from the cut she had taken in her fight with Kasandral-ruled-Cas.

I also wanted to warn you about your escorts.

If it’s that they’re not one hundred percent on our side, I’ve gathered that.

One of them is thinking that it would be better for Ridge and the world if you disappeared down here. Another is fantasizing about your ass and wondering if witches are any different for rutting purposes.

Lovely.
Sardelle lamented anew that Captain Bosmont hadn’t been their escort.

He had thoughts about your ass, too, albeit he felt guilty about having them. Remember, these are men who don’t get to see comely women very often.

I know. I’ll be careful. I still remember how to give rashes.

I was going to offer to melt the lusty one’s gonads for you, but a rash would be acceptable.

“It’s lifeless down here,” Tylie whispered, brushing Sardelle’s arm.

The tunnel wasn’t so narrow that they needed to walk that closely, but Tylie eyed the roughhewn walls and ceiling as if they might collapse at any moment. The air
did
feel thick and oppressive, even though Sardelle could hear a fan working in the distance, bringing in fresh air.

“There are miners working,” she said quietly.

Some solace. The criminals-turned-miners would probably be even less enthused about roaming “witches” than the soldiers. She distinctly remembered how she had entered this new world, with the two hardened men who had helped pull her out of her stasis chamber radiating thoughts of lust and sadism. They would have acted on those thoughts, had she not deployed her rashes. Even though much had happened in the last few months, now that she was back here, she remembered the incident vividly, as if it had taken place yesterday. She might not have reacted to the soldiers’ mutterings, but she would not let Tylie experience anything close to what she had endured.

“No plants, no insects, no animals,” Tylie said, then lowered her voice to a whisper. “The people are scary. Afraid. Hate. Anger. So much anger. All of them.”

“The people? The miners? Are you shielding yourself, the way we’ve been working on?”

“Yes, but I can still feel them.”

Sardelle wrapped her arm around Tylie’s shoulders. “We won’t stay long. Most sorcerers I knew who had soulblades had to go through a trial before being given the opportunity to bond with them. You can think of this as
your
trial.”

Sardelle had no idea if the Cofah had possessed similar rituals. She was trying not to think about the fact that Phelistoth wanted to lead them to a
Cofah
soulblade. She hoped they would come across an Iskandian one first, one that would be a good fit for Tylie, and that there wouldn’t be time to keep searching for others.

Up ahead, Phelistoth gave her a long look over his shoulder.

Sardelle kept her chin up and did not look away, though the idea that he was reading her thoughts made her uncomfortable. She had her mental shields up, as she always did around him. They would have been sufficient against most sorcerers, but perhaps he had some mind-reading power that was different, that could breech her defenses without her knowing it. He had been certain about her hopes of keeping Tylie here, in this country. She didn’t know how he could feel loyal to the Cofah, not when they had been the ones drawing his blood for their own purposes and keeping him weak in that pyramid. She stared at the back of his head, willing him to hear
those
thoughts.

This time, he did not look back.

A group of miners had come into view. They were in an area that appeared to have been recently hollowed out with explosives. Several half-filled carts sat on freshly laid iron rails. The men held pickaxes and shovels, but they had all stopped working. They watched Phelistoth, Sardelle, and Tylie approach.

Several whispered conversations passed between the rough men. Dirt coated their hands, and their clothes were worn, ripped, and equally dirty, though it wasn’t their appearances that made Sardelle tag them as rough. As Tylie had mentioned, most of their minds were full of anger and discontent. Sardelle did not want to open herself to it, but she was aware of Jaxi’s warning and wanted to be ready if someone tried something.

“You men have work,” Sergeant Jenneth said. “Get to it.”

Several miners in the group of ten sneered at him. A few went back to shoveling, though they did not put much effort into it. Others simply stared at Sardelle and Tylie. Because they were women? Or because they remembered her and knew she was a sorceress?

“How much farther, Phel?” Tylie whispered as they passed the group, the men’s gazes following them.

Sardelle pressed her fingers together, readying a defense if they needed it. The soldiers crowded close, and none of the miners stepped toward them. Only their eyes moved, watching.

She started to breathe out a sigh of relief once they’d passed out of sight, but distant shuffling reached her ears. Sounds from the tunnel behind them? Were those miners following them? She reached with her senses. Yes, they were.

“Wonderful,” she murmured.

“What?” Tylie asked.

Sardelle flicked her hand in dismissal. Tylie probably already knew. If she didn’t, Sardelle did not want to worry her, though she might have to bring it up eventually. The men seemed to be up to something. Given the animosity that shrouded the miners, she suspected that more than curiosity motivated their interest. It was amazing that Ridge had managed to gain some respect from these people when he had been the commander here, far more than the previous commander had managed. And, from the brief scene she had witnessed as they landed, also far more than Therrik had managed.

Therrik isn’t a national hero. And he doesn’t wear that dashing cap and goggles.

I’ll let Ridge know you find his headwear appealing.

He already knows. I told you I share my insights with him.

Ah, yes.

Phelistoth turned off the main tunnel and into a dark one. The soldiers shared more mutters with each other. Sergeant Jenneth grabbed the last lantern near the intersection. Two other men jogged back to get more.

Phelistoth took more turns, entering a spider web of narrow passages. In spots, uneven alcoves and divots had been chiseled out of the rock. Had some of her people’s belongings been found here? The walls were not the homogeneous stone of the mountain itself, but rubble that had been compacted over the centuries, with dirt smashed between the boulders like mortar.

The tunnel widened, then ended in a larger chamber with piles of dirt and rock mounded against the walls. Ore cart tracks had not been laid this far back, and there were no timber supports as there had been in the main passages.

The two remaining soldiers lingered farther back, the light from their lanterns barely illuminating the low-ceilinged chamber. Sardelle could scarcely see Phelistoth’s outline in the deep shadows. She could have conjured light, but she was aware of the nervous glances the soldiers kept trading—and the fact that the other two hadn’t rejoined them. When she reached out with her mind, she found them still back in the main passage, leaning against a wall and rolling cigarettes. At least the group of miners had disappeared.

Probably to get more shovels and pickaxes to swing at us
, Jaxi thought.
We may have to fight our way out.

I’m sure we can get past a few men armed with digging tools.

Shall I warn Ridge that his soldiers aren’t being assiduous with their tour guide and protection services?

Sardelle nibbled on her lip. She could no longer reach Ridge herself, and she worried that Jaxi’s phrasing might cause him to worry. Even if Jaxi was circumspect, he might worry. Sardelle did not want him to feel obligated to send more troops down, not when he needed all of the men up there to fortify the installation.

No
, she decided.
We’ll be fine.

You say that, but you haven’t seen what Phelistoth is planning yet.

You can’t read his thoughts, can you?

That
would have been useful.

No
, Jaxi said,
but I can guess based on the way he’s studying that chamber and staring up into the rock above it. I doubt he’s looking with his puny human eyes.

“Stand back,” Phelistoth instructed. He looked toward Tylie, and Sardelle had the impression the warning was for her and that he didn’t care if she or anyone else heeded it. But then his gaze locked onto hers. “And shield yourselves.” His gaze flicked to Tylie, then back to Sardelle.

A warning to protect his… whatever she was to him? Pupil?

Rider
, Jaxi said as Sardelle backed out of the chamber, waving for Tylie to follow.
That’s what the sorceresses who rode dragons into battle were called.

I know that, but I don’t think those people were necessarily Receivers or that they had the same relationship.

They might have been. There must have been some reason for the cranky, arrogant dragons to put up with having humans clambering all over their backs.

Should you be calling him cranky and arrogant when he’s close enough to hear you?
Sardelle asked.
I don’t want him to melt you into a pile of scrap. Especially when you’re attached to my waist.

Ha ha.

Sardelle did wonder what relationship the sorcerers of old had shared with the dragons to convince them to fight with them. Or maybe it had been the dragons convincing the humans to fight with
them
. Though why they would need humans, she didn’t know. Cannon fodder in the ancient wars? Had dragons been as territorial as humans? Maybe Phelistoth felt loyal to Cofahre because his ancestors had claimed that land when humans had been little more than hunter-gatherers roaming the hills.

“Where are we going?” Sergeant Jenneth asked, glancing in the direction of the main passage.

“Just a ways back there,” Sardelle said, nodding for them to continue backing up.

“What’s he going to do in there?”

“Search for something.”

“Alone in the dark?”

“It’s his way.”

“Is he a witch too?” the second soldier, a private asked. He licked his lips, scurrying back to make sure Sardelle didn’t come within touching distance of him.

“The term would be sorcerer, and not exactly.”

Rumbles, snaps, and cracks came from the chamber and saved Sardelle from having to explain further. The ground trembled, and she raised a shield to protect herself, Tylie, and the two soldiers. The other two soldiers were too far away for her to include, so she hoped Phelistoth didn’t do anything that might collapse the entire level. Her shield wouldn’t be enough to protect them if that happened, and even Jaxi wouldn’t be able to melt through the half mile of rock that would stand between them and the tram.

A nervous flutter taunted her stomach at the idea of being trapped down here. This time, there would be no stasis chamber to protect her.

I’m sure he doesn’t want to trap himself
, Jaxi said.

The cracks escalated and were accompanied by the sound of rocks pounding down, and Sardelle barely “heard” the words in her mind. It reminded her of the cave they had been trapped in on the way here, except the noise seemed even louder and larger in scope.

The tunnel between them and Phelistoth was dark, so she couldn’t see what was happening in his chamber, but particles of dust and fine rock swirled on the other side of her barrier.

“Cave-in,” Sergeant Jenneth barked.

He spun and tried to run toward the main passage. He only made it two steps before crashing into Sardelle’s invisible barrier. Rebounding, he stumbled, almost falling to the quaking floor.

“What in all the hells?” he blurted.

The private jumped past him and tried to find a way through the barrier. He patted all along it, then spun toward Sardelle.

“You’re doing this,” he yelled.

“To keep the ceiling from falling on us, yes,” Sardelle said calmly. She rested her hand on Jaxi’s hilt. Performing two kinds of magic at once wasn’t easy, so she would have a hard time defending herself while maintaining the shield.

You may want to let them go. I’ll happily defend you from them, but I might cut off something they’re fond of in my enthusiasm to protect you.

“The witch has us trapped,” Sergeant Jenneth yelled, jumping to his feet. “Is anybody out there?”

Sardelle was about to lower her shield and let them run, but a boulder slammed to the ground, half blocking the route back to the main passage. She grumbled to herself. They wouldn’t like it, but she had to keep them here until Phelistoth finished.

A flash of orange came from his chamber, the light cutting through the dust in the air. No, it
burned
through the dust, heat battering at her shield. The battering reminded her of the air battle with the other dragon, and for a bewildered moment, she thought he was attacking them. Then the light and heat disappeared, and she noticed the air was clear of dust. Had he incinerated it?

“He’s melting a tunnel in the rock,” Tylie said, her hands pressed to Sardelle’s barrier as she gazed toward the chamber. “And getting rid of the molten stone as he goes.”

Getting rid of? If her shields hadn’t been up, Phelistoth would have gotten
rid
of the four of them.