“Yes, ma’am,” Trip said.
It wasn’t exactly a lie.
Sure, hero, tell yourself that.
Jaxi, you know how magic is viewed in Iskandia. I know Sardelle has changed the mind of her friends and maybe some others in the capital, but my mother was hanged because the people in our village believed her a witch. You must understand why I don’t want people to know I’m… different.
He thought Jaxi would make some sarcastic comment about different being an understatement, but instead, she sighed into his mind and said, I know, and I do understand. But you can’t hide it from everyone. Trust me. Sardelle found that out quickly. When you have the power to do good, to save lives, you have to use it. And then the people around you find out. If you trust them, and they’re supposed to be able to trust you, don’t you think it’s better to tell them on your own terms?
Trip glanced toward Leftie, someone who had been his friend for six years, and someone who was superstitious and uncomfortable around magic. When the very nonthreatening, and very pregnant, Sardelle had openly admitted that she was a sorceress, he’d looked like he’d been torn between wanting to attack her and wanting to jump out the second-floor window to flee from her.
Blazer swore, asking a question of her own before Trip could answer Jaxi’s, not that he wanted to.
“Can she guide us around them? By my calculations, we’re twenty-seven miles out from the shoreline, but then we have to fly four hundred more miles inland to reach the first destination we’re checking.”
“We can try,” Trip said, “but they can sense things over extremely long ranges, even greater than Jaxi’s range.”
Or your range, Jaxi chimed in.
“And she said they may be able to sense the chapaharii swords,” Trip added, “that they might draw them to attack us.”
“They can try,” came Rysha’s determined voice, as she leaned over Leftie’s shoulder.
Her hand rested on that shoulder, and Trip looked away, telling himself it was only because she had to lean awkwardly forward to be heard over the communication crystal.
“We don’t want to pick a fight with them,” Trip said. “It won’t be like standing on the ground and battling a sorceress.”
“I’m aware of that,” Rysha said, looking over at him. “Might I remind you that I’ve read numerous history texts and am quite well versed on dragon capabilities?”
She sounded cooler and more aloof than usual, and Trip wondered if her new chapaharii sword, Dorfindral, was influencing her, sending tendrils of magic into her to remind her that he was a hated foe and not a friend. It pained him every time he remembered the loathing-filled look she’d given him when he’d walked up the beach toward her after she had, with the magical sword’s help, defeated the pirate sorceress. It had been so different from the friendly smiles she’d given him previously, the way she’d stood up for him before she had even gotten to know him.
“You’re welcome to remind me of your versedness any time you like, Lieutenant,” Trip said, opting for an affable response rather than a disgruntled one. “You know pilots aren’t that bright. Sometimes, you have to thump us over the head with your knowledge a few times before we remember it.”
“Speak for yourself, low speed,” Blazer said, even though Duck nodded agreeably from his cockpit.
It was hard to tell across the distance, but Trip thought Rysha looked a little abashed, either at her own comment or because his response had made her realize it had been snippy.
“You’re not dim, Trip,” Rysha said. “I’ve seen you fix things. You’re a whiz with wobbly tables.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Leftie said, “he’s a genius. Now, if we could discuss our more pressing problem?”
“Twenty-three miles,” Blazer updated them. “We’ll see the shoreline soon.”
“Turn east,” Trip said. “Let’s follow the coast about twenty miles out, and I’ll let you know when Jaxi tells me there aren’t any nearby dragons. Maybe then we can turn inland and get back on course.”
“Isn’t there anywhere we can land and get out of these flying jail cells for a couple of hours?” Kaika called over Duck’s shoulder. “Maybe we’d have better luck flying inland at night, anyway. Do dragons hunt by day or by night?”
“Both,” Rysha said, before Trip could consult Jaxi.
“There is a Cofah research outpost that I believe may only be about a hundred miles away,” Dreyak said.
“I’m sure they’d welcome us with open arms,” Blazer said.
“They would welcome me,” Dreyak said.
“Are shaven heads required for entrance?” Blazer asked.
“My presence would ensure your safety. If you are concerned about a few scientists.”
“Considering the only Cofah scientist we know has the nickname Deathmaker,” Blazer said, “I’ve got reason to be concerned about them.”
“Deathmaker is a traitor,” Dreyak snarled with vehemence he usually reserved for enemies he was about to slay.
Trip? Jaxi asked. You watching that silver?
He’d been paying attention to the conversation, but he shifted his attention outward. I am now.
It’s heading our way.
I see that.
“We’re about to have company,” Trip told his comrades.
2
Lieutenant Rysha Ravenwood unfastened the straps that kept Dorfindral’s ancient wooden sword box secure next to her seat, then unlatched the lid and withdrew the sword. The dragon Trip had warned them about hadn’t appeared in the sky yet, but the blade flared a pale green as soon as she had it in hand.
Hunt!
Oh, she didn’t truly hear the word, nor did Dorfindral speak to her, but when she held the hilt, she sensed what the blade wanted, to slay dragons and all those with dragon blood. It also, as she’d discovered when it coerced her into pulverizing a magical construct, hated artifacts made by sorcerers.
She’d learned—almost too late—that it hated Trip, too. Something that saddened her a great deal. Because of that, she’d even tried to get out of wielding it. But Kaika had pointed out that there were three chapaharii blades and only five people along on the mission who were capable of wielding them. Rysha, Kaika, and Blazer each had swords with them now, Kaika and Blazer because they had a lot of unarmed combat experience, and Rysha because she had all the magical control words memorized and knew more than anyone else here about the chapaharii weapons.
The main control word that she had to keep on the tip of her tongue was meyusha, which meant “stand down.” There was also one that ordered the blades to stand guard, presumably while the wielder slept or was otherwise unable to remain alert. Another phrase, antyonla masahrati, ordered the swords to “take over,” a notion that Rysha found alarming. Dorfindral had already guided her movements when she’d battled the sorceress. She couldn’t imagine what it would do if it was given that order, and she had no intention of trying it.
“Any chance it’ll be afraid of us because we have a way to hurt it?” Blazer asked, glancing toward Trip’s flier.
They were paralleling the shoreline now, or so Rysha assumed—after Trip had suggested it, all the fliers had turned, putting the setting sun at their backs. They couldn’t yet see the ice of the polar cap.
“Jaxi snorted when I asked her that,” Trip said. “The good news is that all the fliers with the dragon-slaying blades in them should have a modicum of protection from the dragon’s attacks. The bad news is that mine won’t.”
“Shit, we should have rifled through that pirate’s stash and found a fourth blade,” Blazer said.
“I don’t think there were more,” Rysha said. She imagined how badly Trip’s shoulder blades would itch if someone with a chapaharii sword were sitting behind him.
“Give me the Cofah soulblade,” Dreyak said, his voice sounding distant since he spoke from Trip’s back seat. “You can’t wield two swords while you’re flying.”
“I doubt I can wield one sword while I’m fl
ying,” Trip said.
“You better acquire the skill fast.”
Without commenting, Trip pulled a scabbard into view and one-handedly extended it over his shoulder. As far as Rysha could tell, it didn’t glow or show any sign of life. Would the soulblade consider coming out of dormancy to help them battle a dragon? If it didn’t, and Trip’s flier crashed, it could be lost forever, sinking to the bottom of the ocean.
Dreyak wrapped a hand around the scabbard, but as soon as he touched it, he yelped and jerked his hand away.
Trip glanced back.
“It zapped me,” Dreyak growled. “Or did you do that?” He glared at Trip.
“Me? I agreed with you. Better we each have one to use. It’s not like our pistols will do anything against a dragon.”
Rysha doubted the soulblades would do anything against their foe, either. The red lightning the sorceress’s blade had shot out had been effective at damaging fliers, but getting through a dragon’s defenses was another matter. Still, a soulblade could shield Trip’s flier for a while. Maybe a long while if two of them worked together.
“Jaxi says she didn’t do anything, either,” Trip added. “Actually, she says you’re welcome to take Azzy and drop him over the side because she doesn’t need help.”
“She sounds young and arrogant,” Dreyak said with a sniff.
Trip gave him a long look over his shoulder, one Rysha had no trouble reading even from her position well off his flier’s wing. He thought Dreyak could have been describing himself. Rysha suspected Dreyak was simply irritated—with his pride wounded—because a Cofah soulblade was more interested in staying with Trip than in working with him.
“I see him,” Duck blurted and pointed to the south.
The silver dragon had appeared on the horizon, powerful wingbeats carrying him against the wind without trouble. He flew straight toward them. There was no question about his destination.
Trip jabbed the soulblade back through his belt or wherever he was keeping it. Somewhere secure, Rysha trusted. She’d seen Trip fly upside down and knew it was part of his battle repertoire.
“Keep your thoughts away from our mission,” Trip warned everyone. “Dragons can read minds.”
“Fantastic,” Blazer growled. She sounded like she had one of her cigars in her mouth, though Rysha couldn’t imagine how it would stay lit in the wind.
“What should we think about?” Duck asked.
“Praying mantises?” Leftie suggested.
“Staying alive,” Trip said.
“There’s no way we can outrun a dragon, right?” Leftie asked.
“No, they’re faster than our fliers,” Blazer said. “Trust me. I know from experience.”
Leftie drew something from his pocket, his lucky ball on a chain, and kissed it before returning it to his pocket.
The group eyed the silver as it flew closer, the setting sun reflecting off its gleaming scales. It flew with its maw partially open, its fangs visible. Each one had to be as long as a soulblade, if not longer. Its powerful muscles grew visible, rippling beneath those scales. Silver eyes with reptilian slits bored into Rysha’s soul.
She flexed her hand around Dorfindral’s hilt, allowing the sword’s eagerness to flow into her. Its desire for battle swept aside some of her fear. She made sure her rifle was wedged down beside her seat and strapped in tightly. Just because the sword would be her weapon for this battle didn’t mean she wanted to lose her firearm.
“Diamond formation,” Blazer said. “Three points with Trip in the middle. Assuming these swords work as advertised, we’ll do our best to protect his flier.”
“That’s not going to be enough, Major,” Trip said. “You’re going to have to try to get close enough to him to touch his defensive barrier with one of the blades. If you do, Jaxi and Azzy can attack him with magic. I don’t think they can kill him, but they might be able to drive him away.”
“How close do we have to get?” Rysha called over Leftie’s shoulder. “To reach the barrier? How far does it extend from him?”
“We’re not sure,” Trip said, and she imagined Jaxi speaking into his head. Might the Cofah soulblade be speaking to him too? Azzy? Was that its name?
“You don’t think the dragon will just go away if he finds it impossible to get to us?” Blazer didn’t sound like she wanted to jump into battle.
At first, that surprised Rysha. But she realized that this wasn’t their mission. Fighting random dragons all over Linora wouldn’t necessarily make a dent in their numbers, even if they were successful. Whereas every time they fought, they risked deaths or damage to their fliers that couldn’t be fixed, not way out here. If someone was forced to land, this polar region wasn’t a hospitable environment in which to be stranded. If someone crashed into the icy ocean, that would be even worse.
“I wouldn’t assume that, ma’am,” Trip said. “Dragons are as smart as we are. I think he’ll just keep harrying us until he finds out a way to get around the swords’ defenses. Jaxi says a silver might be powerful enough to manipulate the weather too. And magic is the only thing those swords will make you immune to. We—”
The dragon surged forward, accelerating as it closed on the formation, and Trip broke off.
A blast of wind whistled toward the fliers from the side. Rysha didn’t feel it, but the wings of the flier wobbled, and the frame trembled. Trip’s flier reacted far more strongly, as he’d predicted.
It shuddered in the air and bucked as if it were riding a wave. Concentration stamped Trip’s face. His flier wasn’t hurled to the side—Rysha had witnessed that happen to many of the fliers protecting the city in the battle the week before—so the soulblades must have been protecting it somewhat. But how many attacks could they stave off?
Another blast of wind slammed into their formation. Leftie’s flier groaned and shivered, and Rysha gripped the seat well, wishing the dragon would come close enough to strike at.
The dragon’s eyes narrowed in contemplation. He didn’t appear worried, but maybe he was wondering why his attacks weren’t doing more damage. Or, maybe he was simply probing them for weaknesses.
Trip looked at the silver as he flew, and he raised Jaxi. But it was the other soulblade that sent the first attack. Its familiar red lightning shot out of Trip’s cockpit, branching around the propeller and sizzling through the air toward the dragon.
As predicted, it didn’t come close to touching his scales. Nor did the dragon’s cold reptilian eyes show any sign of concern.
“There’s your barrier location,” Trip said.
It took Rysha a second to realize what he meant, but it struck her as the lightning faded. It had branched all around the dragon, delineating the invisible barrier, showing its distance outward from the dragon’s scales. About ten feet in all directions.
“Get us within ten feet of it, Leftie.” Rysha thumped one of his shoulders while pointing her sword over the other one. It flared with hungry green light.
“Shit, Ravenwood. Don’t lop off my ear with that thing. The ladies like my ears.”
“Get me close too,” Kaika barked at Duck.
“Does that mean we’re not trying to protect Trip?” Duck asked.
Trip answered before Blazer did. “No. Get its defenses down.”
Humans are succulent, a voice spoke into Rysha’s mind—into all of their minds, she could tell from people’s startled glances at the creature. My mate has ordered that I invite you to dinner. To be our dinner. The dragon chuckled.
If that was an example of dragon humor, Rysha found it appalling.
Trip banked and flew straight at the silver, a fiery orange ball of flames shooting toward it from his left side and more red lightning streaking out from his right. He looked like some ancient god hurling magical power about more easily than a kid throwing rocks, but the attacks merely bounced off the dragon’s defensive barrier. Trip was forced to bank again lest he run into it.
He was careful not to get close enough to be within range
of the creature’s fangs or talons, but as he flew past, the dragon lashed out with its tail. The long, sinewy appendage snapped toward him like a whip. The tip cracked into the barrier the swords had erected and didn’t get through, but his flier shuddered again, affected by whatever magical power accompanied the attack.
“Leftie, go,” Rysha ordered.
Leftie was already veering toward the creature’s other side, so she needn’t have barked in his ear, but she couldn’t help it. Dorfindral craved dragon blood, and Rysha wanted to protect Trip.
To her surprise, Dorfindral didn’t send a surge of indignation into her at that thought. Probably because the sword was too focused on its target right now.
Leftie took her toward the side of the dragon opposite Trip, firing his machine guns as he went in. So much for a sneak attack. Not that one would have worked, anyway.
As she rose up in her seat as much as her harness would allow, Rysha glimpsed Duck flying in from above, trying to get Kaika and her sword close. Blazer chased after the dragon’s tail. She had no passenger in her flier, unless the group’s gear and Kaika’s bomb collection counted, so she would have to fly and wield the third blade at the same time. Maybe she hoped to get lucky and go unnoticed, swiping at the tip of that tail.
Another blast radiated out from the dragon in all directions. Once again, Rysha heard the wind blow past them, and the flier shivered, but Dorfindral did seem to be protecting her and the things around her, at least somewhat.
Leftie tilted them sideways, their heads toward the dragon’s side, just avoiding the wings beating up and down. Gravity tipped Rysha into the side of the seat well. Even though the harness limited her reach, she was glad she hadn’t unfastened it. She lunged as far as it would let her go and slashed over her head with the sword.