Balanced on the Blade's Edge (Dragon Blood, Book 1) (25 page)

“Rituals of the Harvest Moon,” Nax read, then
jerked his finger back. “Rituals. These are… sorcerous filth.” He
looked at a few more titles. “All of them.”

“If this was a Referatu stronghold,” Vespa
said, “those titles make sense.”

Ridge winced. He hadn’t told her that
believing she would speak openly of it. A mistake. He shouldn’t
have said anything at all, a notion reinforced when the general’s
head whipped around. “Who told you that?”

Vespa looked at Ridge, a question in her
eyes.

He snorted to himself. She might as well have
thrust a finger at him.

“I heard it from a prisoner,” Ridge said when
Nax’s scowl turned in his direction again. “I thought it might be
an accepted fact in the academic world, so I brought it up to the
professor.”

The miners were looking back and forth,
sharing confused expressions. Ridge couldn’t blame them. They ought
to be proud of finding such an old and unique find, but the general
certainly wasn’t giving them that impression.

“Burn them,” Nax said. “Burn everything that
comes out of there.”

“What?” came a familiar cry from the back of
the crowd.

Ridge winced again. He couldn’t blame
Sardelle for protesting this, especially if these artifacts were
what had brought her all the way out here, but he wished she hadn’t
let that cry slip out. In truth, it sounded like one of surprise as
much as one of protest, and when he spotted her, wearing the usual
prisoner’s garb and with a laundry basket in her arms, he also
spotted the regret in her eyes, the cringe on her face. She, too,
knew she had made a mistake.

Sardelle kept her hands clasped behind her
back and stared steadily at the snow in front of her. Ridge had
warned her, and she had warned herself, yet when she had chanced
upon that crowd, seen the books, and heard that vile proclamation
from the general…

To destroy what little remained of her
people, it was unthinkable. And yet, she had brought this about
herself. If she hadn’t been so eager to help Ridge find some
crystals, the miners might never have delved into that half of the
mountain. Now they might destroy every remaining piece of her
culture.

That’s not fair. You sent
them that way to recover me. If anything, this is my
fault.

That doesn’t make the
situation any better, Jaxi. I—we—miscalculated.

We couldn’t have foreseen
Slug Breath taking command.

“Her record says Sardelle Sordenta,” Captain
Heriton was informing the general. Ridge stood a few feet back, his
arms folded over his chest, his face flinty. Not at her, she knew,
but at the situation. Heriton, of course, was smiling cheerfully.
“A record that didn’t appear until she had been in the fort for two
or three days. When it appeared, it was in a spot I had already
checked. It hadn’t been there the day before. And then there’s the
fact that she was originally found wandering in the mines by a…
”

Sardelle had heard the accusations before and
listened in silence, watching as the books were unloaded from the
cart and carried to an empty area in the center of the courtyard.
Someone set a can of kerosene next to them.

If you don’t do
something, I will.
Jaxi sounded as irritated by the situation
as Sardelle.

I’m already on the verge
of being accused of witchcraft here. What can I do? After I get
you, it doesn’t matter—
Sardelle glanced at Ridge and admitted
it would still matter,
—but until then, I can’t
let them…

Kill you?

Yes.

That would be
inconvenient. I’ve grown attached to you and missed you when you
were sleeping for three centuries.

I’m glad to know you
care. If you do something… don’t hurt anyone, please.

The grumbles that sounded in Sardelle’s head
weren’t encouraging, but she knew Jaxi wouldn’t physically harm
anyone unless it was to defend her. They had both taken oaths long
ago to protect, not to hurt.

“You have anything to say, woman?” General
Nax asked.

Sardelle shook her head.

“You knew about this spy, Colonel Zirkander?”
Nax’s voice grew soft, dangerous.

For a moment, Ridge looked like he might go
with a mute answer as well, but his lips thinned, and he chose to
say, “I don’t know what she is, but if she’s a spy, she’s a
considerate one. She’s the one who pointed out the locations of the
new crystals.”

Sardelle didn’t want him to get in trouble
for defending her, but with so many eyes upon her, she didn’t know
how to signal him.

You don’t think he’s
ready for telepathy?

Remembering the way he had lost his composure
when she had teased him about being a telepath… she didn’t think
so, no. He had run afoul of sorcerers before, he had admitted as
much. The moment she allowed him to find out she was one was the
moment she lost… the only thing she had here. In the world.

The last of the books had been piled up, and
a soldier uncapped the kerosene can.

“And how did
she
know the location of the crystals?” General Nax regarded her
through slitted eyes.

“Is she the one who knew this was a Referatu
stronghold?” the general’s daughter asked, stepping forward and
speaking for the first time.

Sardelle kept herself from frowning at Ridge,
but it hurt a little to realize he must have been talking about her
to this woman. Trying to defend her, she sensed, but she still
wished he had said nothing. She could get herself into enough
trouble without anyone else’s help.

The soldier lit his match. Sardelle made a
point of not looking in his direction as she snuffed it out. Nobody
except the soldier noticed. Good. He had a whole box full of
matches. Not good. Oops, it seemed the heads had grown damp in the
snow at some point. The soldier tried to light several more before
grumbling to himself and heading for one of the buildings.

“I
will
have answers
to these questions,” General Nax said. “If not nicely here, then in
an interrogation room.”

Ridge dropped his arms. “That’s not called
for, sir. She’s been helping us.”

“No doubt so she can steal the crystals once
we’ve pulled them all out. And take them back to wherever she’s
from. Did the Cofah plant you, girl?”

“I am Iskandian, through and through,”
Sardelle said. “I grew up in these mountains. I would not betray
them to invaders.”

The soldier returned, a fresh box of matches
in his hand. She dampened them before he reached the pile of
books.

“We’ll see if you have the same answer when a
little pressure is applied,” the general said.

“Sir.” Ridge stepped forward. “Are we really
going to start torturing women, here?”

“You wouldn’t object if she were a man. Spies
can come in either sex, Colonel. Don’t be naive.”

“I haven’t yet seen a reason to torture
anyone. She’s helping us. Don’t you want to see how many crystals
she can direct us to? If we can’t keep a hold of them after that,
that’s our problem, isn’t it?”

Nax scowled at him. “Isn’t it,
sir
.”

A muscle ticked in Ridge’s cheek. Sardelle
realized she hadn’t seen him angry yet, not truly. He wouldn’t do
something to ruin his career on her behalf, would he? She couldn’t
let that happen.

“
Sir
,” Ridge
amended.

“I also think we should wait, sir,” Captain
Heriton said. “If she’s truly the one who has been locating the
crystals, we should use her as long as she’s willing to help.”

At first, Sardelle thought Heriton had
changed his allegiance, deciding he liked Ridge more than the
general, or at least that he liked the crystals more than he
disliked her, but there was nothing friendly in his eyes as he
regarded her. Even without brushing his mind, she could sense the
suspicion there. More than that, she sensed he was perhaps the only
one to have a true idea of what she was. Oh, he wouldn’t think her
a three-hundred-year-old sorcerer, but someone with a few mental
tricks? Yes, that was exactly what he thought. Maybe he was waiting
to say something until he had some evidence.

The soldier by the books cursed loudly enough
to draw the general’s attention. “What’s your malfunction,
private?”

“Sorry, sir. Can’t find any matches that will
light. Everything’s damp.”

“Odd,” Heriton said, staring at Sardelle.

I think I’m going to have
to come down to find you tonight, Jaxi. Whether the tunnels have
been bored close enough or not.

I am more than ready to
assist you in my un-burial.

“Damp,” General Nax said. “Private, I don’t
want excuses. I want burned books. Throw them in a furnace if you
have to.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Airship spotted,” came a cry from atop the
wall.

Sardelle had never been so pleased to see the
enemy on the horizon.

The general cursed and jogged for the
ramparts. His daughter, the captain, and most of the men gathered
to watch the book burning did the same.

Ridge must have been itching to run up there,
too, but he stepped up to her side. His gaze was on the sky, on the
gold and wooden ship that had appeared over the western peak again.
“I won’t let him torture you, though it will mean my career, if not
my life. I understand this sword is worth a lot to you… ” He didn’t
say,
but is it worth my life?
He must have
been thinking it, but instead he sighed and looked at her out of
the corner of his eye. “So you might want to disappear until you
have the opportunity to retrieve it.”

Sardelle looked toward Tram Three, the shaft
that led down to the room where the books had been found, the shaft
that would get her as close to Jaxi as was possible. Ridge glanced
over, following her gaze. He didn’t say anything else, merely
walked toward the stairs, very deliberately not turning to look
back at her.

Watch the books, Jaxi.
I’m going down.

It’s about time.

* * *

A soft boom sounded to the north. A
cannonball arced away from the Cofah airship and landed in a drift
a hundred meters from the fort wall, sending up a shower of snow
that was visible even down in the courtyard.

“We going to be ready for a test run today,
Bosmont?” Ridge asked.

“Let’s see if we can start the engine first,
eh, boss?” It couldn’t have been more than ten degrees, but the
burly captain had his sleeves rolled up. Maybe all the tools he had
squirreled away in his pockets kept him warm.

“If the engine starts, I’ll be tempted to hop
right in and take off. Who’s to say it’ll start more than once, or
stay started?”

“Have more faith, Colonel. This girl will
purr like a kitten after all we’ve done to her.” Bosmont gave the
engine a loving pat.

Ridge winced as his wrench slipped off a nut,
his fist banging into the side of the compartment. That was what he
got for tightening bolts at the same time as he was watching those
bastards taking the range-finding shots.

The crystal glowing in its slot on top of the
engine winked out. Bosmont frowned at it and slapped the casing,
and it flared back to life.

“Auspicious,” Ridge said.

“Just a faulty connector. I’ll open it up and
see if there’s more rust I can scrape off.”

A louder boom came from one of their own
cannons. Ridge eyed the snow-covered peaks around them. Even though
he had been the one to tell Sardelle that avalanches would be
unlikely at this range, he had still deemed it wise to take all
precautions, especially with the enemy out there, doubtlessly
hoping to goad the fort into causing trouble for itself. Apparently
General Nax wasn’t worried about avalanches.

“Because his hairy gray ass wasn’t caught in
the last one,” Ridge muttered.

“What’s that?” Bosmont asked.

“Said I’m going to go up and check the
weapons system. Just getting in the air won’t be enough to scare
off the Cofah.”

“Ah, is
that
what
you said? I thought I heard something about asses. Figured you were
talking about the general.”

“I’d never be that disrespectful.” Ridge
crawled under the control panel in the cockpit to check on the
connectors leading to the repeating guns in the nose of the plane.
Flying was important, but doing damage was even more crucial.

“Were you talking about his daughter? Because
that’s an ass I wouldn’t mind respecting.”

“You’ve been stationed here too long,
Bosmont.”

“Got that right.” Something thunked shut.
“I’m going to fire this dragon whelp up.”

“Good, I—”

“Colonel,” a voice said from outside the
flier.

“Yes?” Ridge wriggled out from beneath the
console.

Captain Heriton stood there, an open book in
his hands. The ever-scowling General Nax stood behind him, along
with his daughter. Ridge hoped neither of them had heard his
engineer’s comments.

“As it turns out, it’s fortunate we didn’t
burn those books,” Heriton said.

Fortunate? Hadn’t they tried? “Oh?”

“Where’s the witch?” Nax demanded.

“Who?”

“Your helpful witch girl.”

“Sardelle?” Ridge rubbed his head. Why would
they think… his gaze fell to the book, and his stomach sank into
the bottom of the cockpit. It was open to a bunch of text he
couldn’t see well from there… and a picture he could. The face
looking up at him, a slight knowing smiling turning up the corners
of the mouth, was very familiar. But… how? “That’s one of the books
that was pulled out of the mine, isn’t it?”

“Yes.” Heriton pointed at the page.
“According to this, Sardelle Terushan was born three hundred and
thirty-four years ago.”

“How is that possible?”

“She’s a witch is how,” General Nax snarled.
“And you’ve been aiding her since she showed up here.
More
than aiding her if the gossip can be believed.”
He squinted at Ridge. “Your career is over, boy. Now where is
she?”