Balanced on the Blade's Edge (Dragon Blood, Book 1) (23 page)

“Let’s get you two out of here,” Ridge said.
“I’m sure you’ve sustained injuries as well. I’ll show you to the
medic.”

“You’ll show me everything, young man. I’m
here to check up on you.”

“Yes… I gathered that. I’m honestly more
concerned about the Cofah right now. Rav, have the rest of the men
unload this ship. We need the supplies, whatever survived the
crash. And cut this poor pilot out as well, please.”

“Yes, sir.”

Ridge climbed out ahead of the others,
offering the general a hand. The white-haired, stern-faced man
looked like the no-nonsense sort—also known as the utterly
humorless sort—and Ridge doubted that they would get along. Oh,
well. He had to admit he wouldn’t mind handing over fort operations
to someone else, at least while the Cofah threat remained, so he
could focus on defense and getting that flier off the ground. The
general had a few scars on his hands and face. He must have seen
some battles, so he should have useful advice. So long as his scars
hadn’t come from street toughs he hadn’t been able to bribe with
pies.

The thought brought Sardelle to mind. Seven
gods, how was he going to explain
her
to a
new commanding officer? Captain Heriton wouldn’t have to send a
secret report anywhere to find someone to inform.

“Careful, Vespa,” the general said to the
woman, who was climbing out now.

Without thinking about it, Ridge offered her
a hand. The general scowled—if he was the husband, he was at least
thirty years older than the woman, maybe forty—but she beamed as
she accepted the offering. She was attractive with a delicate nose
and pointed chin, and lush blonde hair mostly tamed by a braid,
though several wisps had come free in the crash. She didn’t appear
injured, though when she stepped into the snow, she floundered and
ended up leaning against Ridge, grabbing his parka to stay
upright.

“Oh, it’s deep here.”

It wasn’t that deep, but Ridge said, “Yes,
ma’am.”

“Vespa Nax is my daughter, Colonel.” The
general scowled at Ridge, as if
he
were
the one who had grabbed
her
.

“Yes, sir.” Ridge extricated himself from the
embrace. “Why, ah, I wouldn’t have expected you—or anyone—to bring
a woman here.” Ridge wasn’t usually so circumspect with his
superior officers, but he had never met Nax before and didn’t feel
as comfortable mouthing off to him as with those in his chain of
command. Maybe because he had something to lose here. Back home… he
knew they weren’t going to take him out of the air for long. Here?
He was going to have to tread lightly if he didn’t want Sardelle
locked up.

The general scowled—it seemed to be his
normative state. “Vespa, Professor Vespa Nax, I should have said,
is a geologist. The king suggested I bring her along to study the
rock formations in the mountain and determine where more crystals
might be found. We lost two fliers in ocean fights not two weeks
ago. That’s two crystals lost. Production must be increased.”

Ridge had been about to lead the way back to
the fort, but he froze. “Which squadron?” Not his people… He didn’t
want to hear about
any
downed pilots, but
especially not those who flew under him.

“Which squadron,
sir
.”

Was the bastard kidding? Even being
circumspect, Ridge was going to have trouble with the general, he
could tell already.

Nax pointed a finger at his nose. “I know
your reputation, Zirkander. I’ve seen you strutting around HQ like
everyone there should bow down to your brilliance, but you’re an
insubordinate nobody. Your family is full of drunks and
delinquents. How you got into the academy, I can’t even imagine.
Must have been some female recruiting officer falling for a
handsome face.”

At that statement, Ridge was all too aware of
the man’s daughter looking on, her expression somewhere between
surprise and exasperation. Ridge didn’t mind getting his butt
scrubbed with the porcupine brush, but he always hated those
officers who did it in front of others. Vespa didn’t matter that
much, but the men unloading the dirigible—men working very hard to
pretend they weren’t hearing this—were soldiers Ridge might have to
lead into battle later. They needed to respect him, not think he
was some joke around HQ.

“I don’t know how you got promoted this far,”
Nax went on, “but if you give me any shit, I’m going to knock your
ass back to lieutenant.”

“Wonderful,” Ridge said. “Now, if you’re done
with that speech, which I get the feeling you were rehearsing all
the way here, I’d appreciate it if you told me which squadron—which
men—went down. Sir.” And so his plans to be circumspect lasted all
of three minutes. As they said in the academy, no battle plan
survived past first contact.

“Hells if I know,” the general growled. “All
you dragon kissers are alike. Now, if you’ll show me to my office,
I’d like to know what’s been going on here since you took command.”
He scoffed and walked away—the black stone walls of the fort were
visible through the snow, so he couldn’t get lost. Ridge didn’t
hurry after him.

“I didn’t realize my father had met you
before,” Professor Vespa said.

“He hasn’t. At least not so far as I
know.”

“Oh, odd. Usually he reserves that level of
vitriol for lobbyists, liberals, and his most loathed enemies.”

“He must know I don’t vote conservative at
the holiday costume contests.”

Vespa chuckled. Ridge hadn’t been trying to
be funny. Oh, well. “This way, ma’am. I’ll show you to the, uh,
guest quarters.” Those being some dusty, unused rooms in the
officers’ billets.

“Thank you. And, Colonel? Can I call you
Ridge?”

“Yes,” he said though he didn’t want to. He
didn’t want to breed any sort of familiarity with the general’s
daughter. Grumpy old Nax was going to be trouble enough without
that. What had the king been thinking sending her out here among
the hordes of horny men? An image of him in the cave with Sardelle
flashed into his mind, and he flushed. Horny men indeed.

“Good. Ridge, then. It was Wolf Squadron. It
was in the newspapers.”

“Wolf.” All of his indignation from the
general’s treatment drained out of Ridge. That was his team. What
did self-righteous superior officers matter if his people were back
there dying? “Do you remember the names?”

“It was a man and a woman. Dash and… Ann?
Orhn?”

Ridge stopped in the middle of the trail, his
boots suddenly feeling like lead weights on his feet. He closed his
eyes. “Ahn.”

“They flew with you?”

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry.” The professor put a hand on his
shoulder. “If you want to talk about it or to share a drink
tonight, I would be happy to do so.”

The woman’s familiarity surprised him. Up
ahead, the general had stopped and was scowling back. Ridge
resisted the urge to push her hand away. He forced himself to say,
“Thank you,” and started walking again, knowing the hand would fall
away on its own.

The snow had lightened, and numerous men were
watching from the ramparts. He hoped they were paying as much
attention to the sky as they were to him and the newcomers—the
Cofah ship had disappeared, but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t be
back. He spotted Sardelle up there, the breeze tugging at her long
black hair, and hoped she hadn’t seen the overly familiar professor
putting her hands on him. Something about the way she turned away
as soon as he looked in her direction made him suspect she had.

The snores reverberated from the ceiling,
walls, and floors of the women’s barracks. Whoever had designed the
building should have considered carpets, curtains, tapestries, or
at least something with sound-dampening properties. The decorator
probably hadn’t known many women who were so nasally challenged.
Sardelle hadn’t until she arrived here. Thus she lay awake in the
darkness, listening to the audible slumber of tired women. She was
tired herself, since she had spent the day in the laundry room.
Though the other women had treated her like a leper since she
hadn’t been in there in so long and had been, as they called it,
kissing balls and freeloading, it had seemed a good place to hide
from this General Nax, who had been dragging Ridge all over the
fort, making angry gestures and yelling.

Sardelle had instantly disliked the man, even
though she hadn’t been in the same room with him yet. Captain
Heriton had shown up at some point, trailing along on what appeared
to be an inspection. She had stayed out of his sight, not wanting
him to be reminded of her. She found it highly unlikely this
general would be someone who would make a deal with her when her
sword was discovered.

She hadn’t figured out who that woman was yet
either, except that she was young and pretty and seemed just as out
of place here as Sardelle. She was obviously Someone Special
though, for the soldiers had all been bowing and smiling at her
whenever she came around. She didn’t think all of that could be the
result of good looks.

After lying awake for an hour, Sardelle
crawled out of bed and put on her boots and clothing warm enough
for a trek across the courtyard. She didn’t expect Ridge to be in
the library, or even thinking about her, but she couldn’t sleep
anyway, so on the off chance he was there…

He’s there.

Sardelle, in the process of sticking her feet
into her boots, nearly tipped over. Jaxi had been silent all day,
probably sharing her concern about being discovered by that
sorcerer.

Yes, I’ll lie low
whenever their ship is around. I didn’t like that smarmy
know-it-all.
Jaxi sniffed.

By lying low, you mean
listening in on our telepathic conversation?
Sardelle dressed
more quickly, affected far more by the first thing Jaxi had said
than by anything else.

I have to keep abreast of
what’s happening. I assure you, he didn’t sense me.

That’s good.
Sardelle tugged on her parka.
When you said
‘he’s there,’ did you mean—

I’d hate to be wielded by
some smarmy mage stinking of the jungle and joining in with
conquerors.

I’m glad you also didn’t
like him, but what I really want to know is—

Yes, yes, your boyfriend
is waiting for you. Though I’m not sure sex is what he has in
mind.

Sardelle strode outside, still buttoning her
parka. The snow had stopped and the sky had cleared, though the air
was cold enough to freeze the hair out of her nostrils.

An attractive image. I
recommend you don’t share it with your lover.

Thank you for the advice,
Jaxi.

There were fires in the watchtowers and
braziers burning on the ramparts. Though it was late, the soldiers
strode about, their eyes toward the sky. Yes, with the clearing
weather, the Cofah might think it time to try a new attack. She
swept the skies with her senses, though she didn’t slow down from
her brisk walk toward the library building. She didn’t feel anyone
out there. Good.

The library was only one room, upstairs in a
building dedicated to equipment storage and welding. For a moment,
Sardelle worried the front door would be locked, but it wasn’t.
There weren’t any lamps lit in the open bay downstairs, and she had
to use her senses to pick her way past everything from ore carts
being repaired to giant flywheels from the machines that operated
the tram. There was usually a clearer path to the second-floor
stairs, but maybe things had been moved about for the general’s
inspection.

As she climbed to the upper hall and still
didn’t find any lamps lit, she began to doubt Jaxi’s promise. But
she sensed someone in the library room. Maybe Ridge had brought his
own lantern and not bothered lighting any on the way. Perhaps a
good idea if they didn’t want to be discovered. Although with this
general here now, Sardelle was reluctant to do anything with him
that might get him in trouble. For all anyone here knew, she was a
prisoner. Ridge was the only one who had thought of her as anything
else.

She paused with her hand on the doorknob.
Maybe she shouldn’t risk contacting him. But she couldn’t stomach
the idea of leaving him in there alone. He was…

Drunk, she guessed as soon as she opened the
door and smelled the alcohol. And sitting in the dark, staring
toward the library’s lone window, which had a lovely view of the
drab stone ramparts.

“Ridge?” Sardelle whispered. “Are you… do you
want to be alone?”

He took a deep, audible breath, letting it
out slowly before answering. Considering his answer, perhaps.
Whatever had brought him here, Sardelle doubted it was she or an
urge for sex.

“No,” he finally decided.

“Can I… light a candle?”

“Yeah.” His voice wasn’t slurred, but he
definitely sounded off. No, he sounded
down
. Defeated.

“Well, I don’t like this new general already
if he drove you to drink,” Sardelle said lightly.

Ridge grunted.

“Is he… in command now?”

“Yeah. HQ gave him the authority to take over
if I wasn’t doing an adequate job.” He flipped his hand, as if he
didn’t care.

After fumbling in a couple of drawers,
Sardelle cheated, using her senses to locate candles and a box of
matches. She brought them over to the table where Ridge was seated.
He looked away when the match flared to life. The brown glass
bottle next to him didn’t have a label; maybe it had been concocted
in some tub in the back of the barracks. Whatever it was smelled
strong. A little wooden dragon figurine rested next to the bottle,
the paint on its bulbous belly worn off. She had only had glimpses
of the charm, but she recognized it. There was a little metal
eyehook on the top with a braided golden loop attached. He must
hang it in the cockpit when he flies.