This one might be pretty, but he’s definitely a boy. Damn, we’re leaving.
Zirkander’s flier had come back up to a safer height above the canopy—something the white-faced Moe doubtlessly appreciated. The three aircraft sped back to the east, returning to the coast and the lights near the water. As they descended toward a field, Tolemek touched his vest pocket, feeling the crinkle of his drawing and wishing he had more to guide him to Tylie.
In the darkness, the landing was rough, but he kept his mouth shut about it. The look Cas had given him when he had defended his drawing by complaining about the turbulence could have shriveled the balls off a dragon.
I don’t know about that. Dragons have big, sturdy balls.
You know this from the historical documents? Tolemek asked. Or because you checked?
I suppose it’s more of an assumption, given that everything else about dragons is big and sturdy.
So you didn’t check. The image of the soulblade magically lifting a dragon’s leg to look flashed into his mind.
That sounds like a way to get one’s hilt snapped off one’s blade. Or to be melted. From what I’ve read, dragon fire is potent.
Tolemek frowned over at the other flier, wondering why Sardelle’s sword was in his head so much. The other craft hadn’t come to a stop yet; it was still wobbling, the wings tilting, as Duck struggled with the uneven ground. This field hadn’t been harvested, and the air smelled of crushed pineapples. Sardelle wasn’t looking in Tolemek’s direction. Maybe she didn’t know how mouthy her sword was being. Actually, it wasn’t so much the mouthiness that made him twitchy, but the fact that Jaxi seemed to be monitoring his thoughts. Surely, he had proven that he wasn’t a further threat to the Iskandians at this point. Were the others still suspicious of him?
Nah, I’m just listening for thoughts of dragons. It’s too bad we sent back the historian. I’ve been wondering what could cause a dragon to ignore my telepathic questions. I thought you might have some knowledge in that head of yours, between the chemical formulas for substances that kill people and the gooey feelings for your woman.
Maybe it just doesn’t want to talk to you, Tolemek suggested.
That’s hard to imagine.
Is it? Huh.
“You ready?” Cas was looking back at him, frowning slightly. Maybe she had asked more than once. She had already turned off the propeller, tugged off her cap and goggles, and grabbed her gear.
“Yes.” Tolemek unfastened his harness and decided not to mention mouthy swords.
He climbed down, joining the rest of the group on the ground. Something poked the side of his calf. Rows of lumpy protrusions stretched out ahead of them. His guess had been right. They were the tops of pineapples, the fruit almost ripe enough to harvest. He wouldn’t have guessed that a town run by criminals would bother with agriculture, but maybe sea pirates liked pineapple in their rum.
Cas stood next to him, her arm touching his. Though Tolemek was eager to begin his search, he also looked forward to perhaps somewhere private tonight with Cas. They had scarcely had any time alone together since this crazy mission started.
“We’ll see if we can get lodgings here tonight,” Zirkander said when everyone had gathered around. He patted Moe on the shoulder. “My father says we’ll need a guide to make it through the jungle and to the mountain. He hasn’t been here himself and isn’t familiar with the area. He also says that, even if he had been here, he wouldn’t guide me anywhere except into a communal pit toilet, because I kidnapped him. Apparently, he didn’t appreciate my method of forcing him to spend time with me.”
“It was fine until you started swooping all over that mountain,” Moe grumbled, gripping his stomach with one hand. “We nearly crashed three times. My bladder isn’t as steel-plated as it once was, you know.”
“We weren’t anywhere close to crashing, Dad.”
“Tell that to the stain in your back seat.”
“A piece of information that further ensures I’ll never join your commander in his flier,” Tolemek murmured to Cas, taking her hand.
She stiffened, and he worried he had been too presumptuous. She was in soldier-mode, keeping an eye on their surroundings, and not likely thinking of togetherness. But after a moment, she relaxed and said, “I prefer to keep you in my flier.”
He appreciated the response, though he sometimes wondered if they would ever feel as comfortable around each other as Zirkander and Sardelle always appeared to be. Cas so rarely showed affection if anyone was around—and sometimes even when people weren’t around—that Tolemek sometimes struggled to know when she wanted to be touched. He cared for her, more than he probably should, given the short time they had known each other, and it stung a little that he wasn’t certain if she felt as strongly. But maybe the fault was his own. Had he been too distant, too obsessed with finding Tylie? Maybe he should make it clear to Cas how he felt.
“Sardelle,” Zirkander said, “do you think you can protect the fliers again?”
“For tonight, yes. If we leave the area, you may need to hire a guard. Or find another way of protecting them.” Sardelle sounded tired, despite her nap. Or maybe distracted. With the jungle rising on three sides of the field, the mountain was not visible, but she gazed in that direction, regardless. Maybe she could feel the dragon too. Or maybe Jaxi was yammering in her head about it.
Soulblades do not yammer. We provide useful and insightful commentary.
Tolemek declined to comment. Maybe if he ignored Jaxi, she would stop poking into his thoughts. He had the impression of a haughty sniff, but no more words drifted into his mind.
The group headed down one of the paths through the field. The beach and the ocean stretched away on the side that wasn’t dominated by the jungle. Up ahead, the one- and two-story buildings of town spread inland. Along the waterfront, numerous docks stretched into the bay, several with ships tied along them. Lamps burned on a few of those ships, mostly sailing vessels rather than ironclads, but a few had smokestacks, as well as masts.
“Those are pirate ships,” Sardelle said as they approached the outskirts of the town. “Most of them, anyway. There are a few fishing boats and a Berthnian freighter, as well. I don’t see any Cofah ships.”
“I told you this was a pirate outpost,” Moe said.
“Your head might be in danger, Zirkander,” Tolemek said. “Pirates don’t like you.”
“Not any of them? I thought you had decided I have endearing qualities.”
“I’ve decided not to kill you.”
“Because of my endearing qualities?”
“Because Cas likes you,” Tolemek said. “She has endearing qualities.”
Zirkander stopped at the end of the field and gazed out at the ships. In the darkness, one couldn’t see the cannons, guns, and harpoon launchers bristling from the decks, but Tolemek knew they were there. Given the number of ships out there, the town would be crowded too.
“I wonder if there is a library or any type of repository of knowledge here,” Moe said. “As long as I’m here, it would be shameful not to do some research. Do you want me to help your people find a guide before I go my own way? I suspect I’m more experienced in that area.”
“You’re leaving us already, Dad?” Zirkander took his arm and led him away from the group, though his low voice was still audible to Tolemek. “We’ve barely spent any time together.”
“We just spent hours together.”
“Hours in which you were railing at me for kidnapping you and telling me about how many men throughout history have met horrible ends because they dallied with witches. That hardly counts as spending time together. Besides, I’d like you to get to know Sardelle.”
“Ridgewalker, you have a mission for the king, and I have a quest I would like to complete before I die, a quest I’m hoping won’t be overly waylaid by being stuck in this lawless den of iniquity until I can find passage on a boat.”
Lawless den of iniquity? Who said such things?
Moe clapped Zirkander on the arm. “It’s been good seeing you, but we must not let our personal feelings keep us from achieving the greatness that lies within.”
“Have a beer with us, at least. While you’re helping us find a guide.”
“A beer? So long as the lighting is sufficient so I can go over my notes while we drink. I believe there’s a reference to Owanu Owanus in some of my early entries from last year.”
Zirkander moved back to the group. “Sardelle, will you come with us to look for a guide and to help ensure that my head stays attached in this—what was it?—den of iniquity?”
“Lawless den of iniquity,” Sardelle said.
“Yes, right,” Zirkander said. “Cas, Duck, and Tolemek, we need provisions and lodgings for the night.”
“And to ensure that the Cofah have actually been here,” Tolemek said.
“You don’t think they have? Ah, I forgot to mention it. Our sentient sword can sense that there is indeed a dragon here. It seems inevitable that the dragon blood originated from this port.”
Tolemek sought a way to explain that the blood was only of moderate interest to him. What he wanted to know was whether Tylie was here. Just because she might have been once didn’t mean she still was. He didn’t want to waste days—or weeks—marching through the jungle to some mountain of death if she had already been moved. “I intend to ask if anyone has seen my sister.” He braced himself, expecting Zirkander to argue.
“That’s fine, but you keep an eye out for your head too,” Zirkander said. “I imagine there are a few pirates out there who would also be happy to kill you.”
“I’ll keep an eye out for his head.” Cas patted her rifle.
“Good. Duck?” Zirkander dipped into a pouch and pulled out a few coins. “For the provisions and lodgings. Try to get a good deal. The general didn’t send a huge pile of money along for us to use.”
Doubtlessly, because the general hadn’t expected his team to fly halfway around the world on some secondary quest. Tolemek kept the thought to himself, since this secondary quest worked in his favor.
“Where do you want to meet up, sir?” Duck asked.
“Just stay with Tolemek and make sure he knows the name of the place you find. We’ll get the information from him.” Zirkander smirked wryly at Tolemek.
Tolemek supposed that meant he wasn’t done having Jaxi pop into his thoughts that night.
Duck scratched his head. “If you say so, sir.”
When the group reached the first of the docks, they split apart, with Zirkander and the others heading into the city. Tolemek kept walking along the waterfront, waving for Cas and Duck to follow him. He doubted he would find any old allies on the docked pirate ships, but if there was a port master who took fees, he might know about any Cofah ships that had come through in the last few months.
“Might be trouble up ahead,” Cas murmured, tilting her chin toward a pack of dark figures laughing and joking as they made their way up one of the longer docks and toward the city.
“Maybe not,” Duck said. “They already look drunker than hogs that busted into the cider house.”
The men turned off the docks and down the beach, pointing toward one of several well-lit taverns lining the waterfront. Their route would take them past Tolemek’s group.
He stopped and leaned against a post near the water. “Let’s let them pass.”
He turned his shoulder, not wanting to be recognized. Too bad he didn’t have a cloak with a hood on it, though the garment would have looked silly in this tropical climate, with a muggy breeze drifting in off the sea. Cas had teased him often about his hair, and he wondered now if he should have cut it back in Iskandia. Even if he wasn’t wearing his pirate clothing any more, he did have a distinctive look. He thought about asking Cas if she would like to engage in a round of kissing, to ensure he wouldn’t be recognized, but she was the image of the professional soldier as she watched the men amble past, her rifle cradled in her arms, her finger resting near the trigger.
One of the men in back noticed them, but he didn’t slow down or look twice. As the group moved away, Tolemek started to relax until he spotted a boy standing in the shadows of a bench on the other side of the beach. As soon as Tolemek looked at him, the boy darted away, springing for the closest alley.
Cas started to lift her rifle, but paused, probably noticing the youth of their spy. The boy jumped the sleeping form of a drunk man and disappeared into the alley.
She sighed. “I think someone recognized you.”
“Let’s hope we’ll be leaving before it matters.” Tolemek pointed to a shack standing at the side of the longest and widest dock. “I want to see if the port master is there.”
“It’s late,” Duck said. “He’s probably gone to bed. Or to drink.”
“That does seem more likely around here,” Cas said.
Tolemek headed for the shack. “If he’s not there, his records still may be.”
When he lifted a hand to knock on the door, faint snores drifted out to him. He tapped three times. The snores didn’t stop. He tried the knob, and the door opened.
Tolemek squinted into the single dim room, making out a desk by a shuttered window but not much else. “Anyone have a match?”
With a soft rasp, a flame flared to life beside him. Duck held the match aloft, revealing file cabinets in addition to the desk, as well as the source of the snores, a bearded man lying facedown on a cot, a pistol jutting from his holster. His arm hung to the wooden floor, an empty bottle next to his open fingers.
“Drinking and sleeping,” Duck said. “I was right.”
“I’ll wait outside while you question him,” Cas said. “Be quick. There are more people walking down the dock.”
Duck found a lamp on its side under the desk and lit it.
Tolemek stepped inside and pulled the pistol out of the man’s belt, crinkling his nose as he did so. He might not smell that fresh himself, after the fighting in the lab and the flight from the volcano, but this man had been wallowing in his own body odor for weeks without thinking to hop in the bay out there. The snores faltered when the pistol was removed, but then continued. Tolemek patted him down, making sure he didn’t have any more weapons, then jostled his shoulder.
“No taxes today,” the man slurred. “Holiday. Go way.”
“I bet there are a lot of holidays around here,” Duck said.
Tolemek pointed to the file cabinet. “See if there are any halfway decent records, anything about Cofah ships and suspicious crates.” He jostled the drunk harder. “Wake up. The dock’s on fire.”
The man’s bleary eyes opened. “Wha?”
“I need to ask you some questions.”
The man’s surprise turned to suspicion. “This isn’t the library. We don’t answer no questions. You pay your taxes?”
“The colonel’s dad will be happy to know there is a library.” Duck pulled a half-eaten sandwich out of the top file drawer. Judging by the greenish tint to the meat hanging out of it, it had been there a while. “Halfway decent records may be expecting too much though.”
“I see that.” Tolemek grabbed the drunk’s shirt. “You will answer questions. If you want to return to your nap and be left in peace. Just a few. Do the Cofah ever come through here?”
“Get off me.” The man grabbed Tolemek’s wrist. “Who do you think you are?”
Tolemek almost didn’t respond with his name—Zirkander hadn’t lied; there were pirates who would happily see him dead, just because he had been a prominent member of the Roaming Curse, an outfit a lot of rivals detested. But if his reputation had made its way down here, it might be of some use. The main reason he had cultivated it was so people would fear him and leave him alone. It sometimes meant less force was required to deal with enemies as well.
“Deathmaker.” With his free hand, Tolemek pulled a small vial out of a vest pocket. He tipped it upside-down and right-side-up in front of the drunk’s eyes, letting them focus on the viscous
blue liquid inside.
Muffled voices came through the door. Those men talking to Cas? He almost turned his shirt grip into a chokehold, so he could hurry the questioning along, but he reminded himself that Cas could take care of herself. Her five-foot height and hundred pounds in size might make it tough for her to beat thugs into the ground, but she could keep them from getting into beating range with that rifle.
“What is it?” the drunk port master whispered, his eyes locked on the vial.
A lubricant for thwarting rusty locks and hinges, Tolemek thought. “A horrible poison that eats through your skin, through your muscles, and all the way down to your organs, where it turns them to mush and disintegrates your bones.”
The drunk gulped.
Tolemek nudged the cap with his thumb. “If I dribble a single drop onto you…”
“Cofah been here,” the man blurted. “Beginning of every month. Real regular like.”
Tolemek didn’t lower the vial, but he let his grip on the man’s shirt loosen slightly. “Doing what?”
“Bringing in men and taking some crates. I seen ’em.”
There was the proof Zirkander needed. As to what Tolemek needed… “They ever have a girl with them?” Without taking his eyes from the man, Tolemek withdrew a picture he had drawn of Tylie and held it up. “About seventeen—dark hair. Sweet, innocent face. Cofah.”
The drunk shook his head. “Never seen a girl. Just men. Soldiers. Oh, and in the beginning, there were some men who weren’t in uniform but were carrying lots of equipment. They had to hire a bunch of porters just to get it off the dock. Not many horses here. Livestock draws out the predators, you know.”
“You’re certain there was never a girl?” Tolemek found his hand tightening on the man’s shirt again.
“Certain.”
“Nobody else works this position who might have been on shift when she came?”
“No.” The drunk lifted a hand toward Tolemek’s wrist, but paused, eyeing the vial again. “Listen, nobody would bring a girl here. Can’t hardly get any women to come stay for the pubs and brothels even. The jungle’s dangerous. Wicked predators. Cannibals. Ain’t none of those porters that went with the Cofah ever come back.”