6.0 - Raptor (31 page)

When Therrik did not respond with the expected grumpy comeback, Ridge glanced over his shoulder. He promptly wished he hadn’t. The colonel’s breakfast was finding its way onto his back seat.

“I wasn’t even flying upside down,” Ridge grumbled, turning back toward the outpost.

The dragon was just visible in the distance, following the spine of the Ice Blades. He swooped down behind a distant peak and disappeared from sight. Ridge had a feeling he wasn’t going far and that he would be keeping an eye on his progress here. Twenty-four hours to find a little crystal in a giant mountain. As Ridge glided toward the outpost, he wished the vomit in his back seat was the worst of his problems.

• • • • •

As the two fliers followed the mountains, leaving the airship behind, Tolemek cast forlorn looks at the craft cruising beside the one he shared with Lieutenant Pimples. He had assumed he would fly with Cas, but she had come up on deck with that sword in its box once again, and he had realized it might not be a good idea. Ort had ordered her to pilot Captain Kaika, and after a glance at Tolemek, Cas had not objected.

Since she was not casting forlorn looks back at him, Tolemek made himself focus on the route ahead. He had never been to Galmok Mountain, or to many places in Iskandia besides the capital. The Ice Blades were majestic, but daunting, too, especially now. The day had started out sunny, what little he had seen of it through his porthole, but it was growing progressively cloudier as they turned deeper into the mountains. In the distance, darker clouds promised a storm.

“Coordinates say we should be getting close,” Pimples announced to the communication crystal.

“I’ll take your word for it,” came Cas’s response. “I’ve never been to the mines.”

“None of us have. It wouldn’t be much of a secret outpost if we all took training trips there every month.”

Tolemek wondered if Cas would appreciate it if he smacked Pimples for being lippy. Probably not. Lippiness seemed to be a requirement among the Wolf Squadron pilots.

The fliers curved to follow the contours of one of the highest peaks in the range, one blanketed in ice and snow, the lower half invisible beneath clouds wreathing the mountain. They were almost upon the outpost before it came into view, a stone-walled fort hunkering at one end of a valley surrounded by mountains on all sides. Evergreen trees grew in much of the valley, surviving despite the altitude, but the area around the outpost had been cleared. It looked desolate. If Tolemek hadn’t seen people moving about inside the walls, he might have judged the outpost an abandoned ruin, based on the damage it had taken. As the fliers descended, that damage grew more apparent, with wooden buildings destroyed and everything else charred black.

His stomach sank as he thought about how he had sent Tylie here. A soulblade wasn’t worth being fried by a dragon. He should have kept her with him on the airship. No, the airship hadn’t been any safer. He should have left her with Zirkander’s
mother
. Except that Zirkander’s mother did not believe in magic and might not be such a friendly host if she realized what Tylie was. Damn it, why didn’t he know more people that could watch after her? Did she ever wish she were back home, still living with their parents and doing normal things with her friends? She ought to be finishing school and ogling cute boys, not flying around on the back of a dragon and being a target for whatever person—or sword—took a dislike to sorceresses.

Another feeling of unease nibbled at him at that thought. For the first time, Cas—and Kasandral—would be in the same space as Tylie. The idea of that sword making Cas attack Tylie twisted his gut into knots.

He touched the ceramic jars in his pocket, wondering if the contents truly had any chance of hurting the dragon. He wanted so much to make it so Cas would never need to take the blade out of its box again. That was the only way to keep Sardelle and Tylie safe. Maybe he could get Phelistoth to give him a dragon scale for a final test. Of course, even if his formula worked, he still needed to come up with a delivery mechanism. A sling with a grenade on the end wouldn’t likely catch a dragon. He needed a way past the creature’s shields too.

“No sign of the dragon yet,” Pimples said. “That’s good. Maybe it got bored and left.”

“Land in the courtyard,” Cas said. “There’s not room on that roof.”

Roof? Tolemek squinted and saw what she was talking about, a flat roof on a stone building that appeared relatively free of damage and that held two other fliers. Duck’s and Zirkander’s? Tolemek hoped it boded well that both craft were there.

“A lot of people down there,” Pimples said.

“They’re all clustered around those doors,” Cas said. “Switch to thrusters before you cross over the wall, and you’ll be fine.”

Tolemek studied the doors Cas had mentioned. There were four different sets of them sunken into the earth itself, all of them accessible from the courtyard but from different parts of it. Piles of dirt rested to the sides of them, and small towers rose up at the entrances with cables extending through holes in the doors and disappearing under them. One of the towers had been knocked over, its metal supports torn from a cement foundation. All of the men were gathered around a tower that still stood, with the doors next to it yawning open, revealing a dark shaft that descended diagonally into the mountain. As the fliers approached, a train of ore carts rose out of the shaft, and men with shovels jumped to unload them. Tolemek couldn’t imagine that the soldiers were worried about ore or power crystals as they recovered from the dragon attack. There had to be another reason they were pulling up rock and dirt, and he couldn’t think of anything innocuous.

Cas and Pimples landed in a quiet corner of the courtyard.

Scarcely waiting for the flier to stop, Tolemek jumped out. He had spotted Zirkander during the landing—he was one of the men with shovels—and he strode straight toward him.

“Tylie?” he asked, gripping Zirkander’s arm and stopping him mid-shovel.

For once, Zirkander’s face was devoid of humor. “She’s down there with Sardelle and Phelistoth and a lot of trapped soldiers and miners.”

Tolemek edged closer to the open shaft, peering into the darkness. Far below, a few torches burned, the lights not illuminating anything at this distance. Clangs and scrapes filtered up from the depths.

“What happened?”

“Cave-in. But Sardelle and Jaxi are keeping a barrier up. They’re protected for the moment, and we’re trying to reach them before, uhm.”

“Before they get too tired and can’t hold it up anymore,” Tolemek said grimly.

Zirkander shrugged helplessly.

Tolemek closed his eyes, his regrets rushing back to him. He
should
have kept Tylie with him. “How did this happen?”

“I’m not sure. They were going to find a soulblade and dig it out, but something happened. The cave-in. Then the other dragon showed up, making things worse.” Zirkander stepped around Tolemek and scooped another pile of dirt out of the ore cart. “Grab a shovel if you want to help. No, wait.” He lowered the tool and spun toward the fliers. “You didn’t bring Captain Kaika, by chance, did you?”

“Yes, she flew with Cas.” Tolemek pointed—Cas, Kaika, and Pimples were walking toward them.

“Here.” Zirkander thrust the shovel at him, then ran across the courtyard toward the group.

Tolemek stared at the implement, then down the tram shaft again, and he realized what Zirkander had to be thinking. Explosives. Would that help free Tylie and Sardelle? Or would it only cause more rock to fall, enough to bury them permanently?

Chapter 13

H
eat turned the rocks red and then into rivers of steaming magma. Under the influence of Phelistoth’s magic, the lava flowed away, sometimes against gravity, and melted its way into side alcoves before hardening and leaving a narrow tunnel free. Sardelle couldn’t watch for long—the light was too intense—but she checked Phelistoth’s progress often as he worked, burrowing his way back toward the main passage. She kept hoping they would encounter other people who had survived the cave-in, and she wanted to make sure to pull them out before the dragon melted them like so much rock.

There’s nobody left alive down here, Sardelle
, Jaxi said.
Not on these levels. Some men are up higher, stuck because the bottom third of the tram shaft is buried.

Logically, Sardelle knew that, but she did not want to accept it. Jaxi was maintaining the barrier around them now, so Sardelle had been free to check with her senses several times. She hadn’t found any other life on what remained of their level, but she kept hoping that she had been mistaken, that she was too weary from all she had done, and that her senses were simply dulled.

They’re not. I’m sorry. There are people three levels above that are still alive. Only some of their tunnels collapsed, those right over where Phelistoth was digging.

Jaxi
, Sardelle cried silently. A big part of her wanted to sink to her knees in the middle of the tunnel and cry out loud. It wasn’t that those miners had been paragons of humanity with long and fulfilling lives that they could have lived, but they had still been human beings, and now they were dead because of a quest she had agreed to, one she had been leading. And the soldiers stationed on these levels—some of them must have been good men, just doing their duties. Like Ridge. He had been a soldier here once, after all.

It’s not your fault, and you
weren’t
leading. The lout was.

Sardelle looked toward Phelistoth, who stood only a couple of feet away as he continued to melt a tunnel for them. His face was set with concentration, and sweat gleamed on his human skin.

He regrets that, I think,
Sardelle said.
He knows he thought too highly of himself and his skills. He believed he could get those artifacts
and
the soulblade. He’s not pleased that his hubris resulted in this.

Because he was injured or because he actually cares what happens to puny humans? And soulblades.

He cares what happens to Tylie.

So, we’re just lucky that we were standing next to her.

Technically, she’s lucky that she was standing next to us. I think Phelistoth realizes that and is appreciative of the help we gave her. And him.

Jaxi made a noise in Sardelle’s head, a noise somewhere between a snort and a fart.
I don’t know where you’re getting this. I can’t read him at all.

I can’t usually, either, but when I—when Tylie and I were healing him, he let me feel something of his emotions.

Nothing I’ve seen suggests dragons have emotions other than arrogance and pride.

Sardelle shrugged. She was too tired to defend Phelistoth, and she wasn’t certain that she should. Still, she was glad they were down here with him instead of with the gold dragon.

For a moment, Phelistoth looked over at her, and she felt naked beneath that intense gaze, certain he knew all of her thoughts. If this was what it was like for mundane humans when faced with sorcerers, she could understand why magic made them uncomfortable. Unable to shield their minds, they could never know when someone with power was looking into their thoughts.

Phelistoth turned away, and the air heated again, the passage glowing red as more rocks melted.

Move your shield forward
, he spoke into their minds.
We can advance farther.

The tunnel appeared stable where he had melted the way, the walls and floor smoother now, the rock cooling unnaturally quickly so that they could walk on it. Sardelle kept her barrier up and waved for the soldiers to stay with them. They advanced about thirty feet, reaching the main passage. The lanterns that had been out there had been crushed—or melted. Maybe both. She didn’t see any sign of the two soldiers they had left behind, but she was more relieved by that than disturbed. She shuddered at the idea of a pair of smoldering boots on the ground with nothing left above them.

That’s not far from the truth, I’m afraid. Most of the people on higher levels have made their way to the tram chambers, but they’re blocked in. Some of them are sitting down to wait. Oddly, some of them aren’t.

What do you mean?
Sardelle asked.

Some of them are making their way through a natural cavern formation behind the tram shaft. It spans a few levels. It doesn’t look like they can go up, but about a dozen are coming down here.

Why? Don’t they realize the tram shaft would still be blocked and that they won’t be able to escape from down here, either?

Maybe they’re after you.

What, as revenge for this mess?
Sardelle asked.
How could they know we were the ones responsible?
Sardelle looked at Phelistoth.

I only know that the one leading has an image of you fixed firmly in his determined brain.

I suppose nobody told these people that a dragon was coming down and that
he
was responsible?

I don’t believe so. The only ones here who know what Phelistoth is are the two soldiers with you, since they saw him in his real form.

Sardelle walked forward a few steps, as Phelistoth waved for them to advance again. She doubted the miners could pose much of a threat to them, though perhaps that was a cocky assumption, given how tired she and Jaxi were. Usually, they maintained a barrier for a few minutes, the duration of a battle, not for hours, and not against intense heat and tons of rocks. Still, she worried more that the miners would put themselves into a position where Phelistoth might kill them, either inadvertently, by melting nearby rocks, or intentionally, because they represented a threat.

There’s no way we can stop him if he decides to do that
, Jaxi thought.
Unless you’re able to give him a very distracting rash on his nether regions.

I don’t think that would work on scales.