Balanced on the Blade's Edge (Dragon Blood, Book 1) (26 page)

Ridge turned his back on them so he could
climb down from the flier—and recover his equanimity. Or at least
figure out how to mask his features and control the roiling unease
in his belly.

“Even if she were a witch, I’ve never heard
anything about tainted people being immortal,” he reasoned, facing
them again and holding out a hand for the book. “It must be a
mistake. Maybe she was named after this person because of a
resemblance.”

Heriton didn’t release the book, but he did
hold it up so Ridge could see the pages better—and read the text.
He puzzled through the entry. Apparently it was one of several in
some sort of roster. The picture… damn, that was undeniably her.
The words had been laid down with a printing press, but the
portrait was hand-painted, its colors faded somewhat with time,
though the book itself had been well preserved in its rocky
tomb.

“Position…
sherastu
?
” he wondered aloud, picking words
from the description. “And healer.” The latter made his stomach
start writhing all over again. His hand drifted to his chest, where
the scratches from the giant owl had healed extremely well, leaving
only the faintest of scars. “Seven gods,” he whispered.

“I repeat,” Nax said, “
where
is she?”

Ridge met his hard eyes. “What are you going
to do to her?”

“Answer the question, Colonel!” Nax lunged
forward, as if to grab Ridge by the collar—or neck.

Reacting on instinct, Ridge stepped back. He
thumped against the front of the flier, but he blocked the attack.
The general barely seemed to notice. His finger came back in, this
time pointing at Ridge’s nose. “Boy, you’ve been helping her from
the start. I’ve gotten the whole story.”

When Ridge glanced at the captain, Heriton
swallowed and looked away.

“Your career is dead. If you don’t want to
get pounded by a firing squad, you’ll tell me where she is right
now, and you’ll damned well help us figure out a way to imprison
her.”

“You won’t find anyone to shoot him here,
Father,” Vespa said. She had been watching this whole exchange with
wide eyes, and lifted her hand a few times as if she wanted to
intervene, but she ultimately let her arms fall to her sides.

“I’ll shoot him myself,” Nax roared.

“I’ve read that iron boxes are supposed to
nullify their artifacts,” Captain Heriton said. “Perhaps we could
line one of the solitary confinement cells with iron, and she
wouldn’t be able to escape until… we’ve thoroughly questioned
her.”

“Gotten the location of the rest of the
crystals, you mean?” Ridge asked.

“I don’t care for your tone, Colonel,” Nax
said.

“What? Not sarcastic enough for you? I’ll
work on that.”

“
Sir
,” Heriton
whispered. Nax was too busy fuming to respond.

“Look, General. I don’t know where she went.
I’ve—” Another boom drifted across the mountainside. Judging by
where the snow flew up, that shot had landed much closer. Thanks to
its elevated position, the airship had a greater range than the
artillery weapons on the wall. “I don’t have time to talk about
this now. We’re straw bales on the rifle range right now. We’ve got
to get this flier off the ground to have a chance at defending
ourselves against an air attack.”

Heriton eyed the battered and dented craft.
“If that’s our only chance… ” He must have decided morale wouldn’t
be served by voicing the rest, for he merely shut his book and
walked away, shaking his head.

Nax still had smoke coming out of his ears,
but his face had grown a shade less red. “Fix it up, Zirkander. But
know that after we deal with the Cofah, you’re joining the witch in
a lead cell. I’ve got enough on you at this point to have you
hanged tonight.” He stalked off, shoulders bunched into knots.

“With that ability to inspire courage and
devotion, it’s shocking he doesn’t command legions of troops.”
Ridge was talking to his engineer—who had never stopped tinkering
with the engine, gods love the man for his single-mindedness—but
Professor Vespa was still standing there. She stared back and forth
between Ridge and her father’s departing figure. He thought about
apologizing to her for maligning the general but couldn’t bring
himself to do it. He merely touched the rim of his fur cap, offered
a polite, “Ma’am,” and pulled himself back into the flier.

“You know where the girl is?” Bosmont asked
after they had finished ratcheting down that engine the best they
could.

“Not really. You care?”

“Not really.” The captain flashed a grin.
“But if you had a way of warning her not to come back, you might
want to do that. I figure Nax will have a squad of armed men
waiting for her if she shows up again.”

“I don’t know how to contact her. I don’t
even know if I should if I could.” Ridge removed his cap and rubbed
his hands through his hair. No, he would warn her if he could, but
he wouldn’t… he couldn’t have anything to do with her after that. A
sorceress. He had slept with… By all the gods, living and dead, how
had he ended up with a sorceress in his fort? And had she ever
cared a whit about him? Or had she been using him to get to what
she wanted? Pretending she was helping him find those crystals, but
secretly wanting the tunnels dug in a certain direction so she
could get that sword?
Her
sword, he
realized belatedly. Or one she wanted to use for some reason,
doubtlessly a magical blade to increase her power. Wasn’t that what
the stories said? What would she do once she had it?

“Do me a favor, will you, Bosmont?”

“What?”

“Sneak me in a beer every once in a while
once I’ve been court martialed, and I’m a prisoner here.”

“Will do, boss.”

Sardelle knelt near the bottom of the tram
shaft, crouching behind a cage. A few feet away, two soldiers stood
to either side of the tunnel, their backs to the wall. The clanks,
scrapes, and curses drifting out of a couple of the passages
announced more people nearby. There were a lot of men she would
have to sneak past to reach the freshly excavated tunnels.

A few ore carts had been left on a rail part
way down one of the shafts, each full of dirt to be dumped. She
waved her hand, and they rolled into the chamber.

“What the—”

“Who pushed those out here?” one of the
soldiers demanded, striding toward the tunnel they had come out
of.

As soon as he was even with them, Sardelle
shoved the cart over. Dirt spilled out onto his boots. The man
stumbled back, cursing, and his comrade ran toward the tunnel
entrance.

Sardelle made a hard right, obfuscating her
form so they wouldn’t see anything more than rock, albeit a moving
rock, if they glanced over. They were more focused on the tunnel
and the ore carts. She slipped into a different passage, the one
that should lead to the newly opened area where the miners had
found the crystals—and the books.

Jaxi did the telepathic equivalent of
clearing her throat.
Speaking of those
books…

Yes?

Did you know some of the
annual rosters were in that pile? The ones showing where everyone
who does field work is currently stationed?

No.

You should have let that
soldier burn the books.

Sardelle forced herself to keep padding down
the tunnel, passing through the shadows between each lantern
hanging on the wood supports, though she wanted to stop and spend a
few minutes cursing and kicking things.
They
found something with me in it?

Yes.

Did… Ridge see
it?

Yes.

So he knows who—what—I am
now?

He does. Everyone
does.

Oh.

Sardelle kept walking though her legs felt
numb. What else could she do? All that was left to her was to get
Jaxi and go… where? She had no idea.

Somewhere you won’t be
hanged, drowned, or shot.

Yeah? And where’s
that?
Sardelle remembered the shaman’s offer, but the thought
of going off with him made her stomach twist in knots.

I’m not sure yet. We’ll
find it.

Damn. Sardelle didn’t want to leave, not by
herself anyway. She wanted Ridge to come with her. Or she would
have stayed here with him if that abominable general left… and he
still wanted her to stay. She could help defend the mountain from
enemies. It wasn’t that different from the work she had done
before.

Are you sure you
want
to defend these people? People who would
kill you if they got a chance?

Ridge wouldn’t.

When an answer didn’t come, the silence
unnerved Sardelle. What did Jaxi know that she didn’t? Sardelle was
tempted to reach up through the layers of rock and try to find
Ridge up in that courtyard. He would doubtlessly be back at that
aircraft. Or up on the wall if the Cofah were attacking.

She jerked at the reminder that the enemy
airship was up there. This wasn’t the time to worry about loves
lost. She shifted from a walk to a jog, running between the iron
tracks in the center of the tunnel. Only when the sounds of voices
reached her ears did she slow down again. The bangs and clanks had
grown much louder too. She sensed… no less than ten people working
at the end of the shaft. Extra men must have been funneled into the
area after the book discovery.

Any ideas on how to get
those men to take a lunch break, Jaxi?

The owl is back.

Er, the shaman’s
pet?

He seems to have sent it
ahead. It’s harassing the men up top.

While the airship sneaks
in unnoticed?

Jaxi didn’t answer for a moment. Sardelle
crept farther down the tunnel, until a half-full ore cart came into
view, along with the back of the man loading it.

It’s still staying out of
range, but that may change. It’s possible the shaman realized
you’re not up in the courtyard anymore.

Me?

You’re probably the only
reason they didn’t come in and try a more committed attack earlier.
The fort’s defenses are paltry. It’s clear that when this place was
built, attacks from the air weren’t common yet.

Yes, they need someone to
make it out of here to inform the rest of the military of this
problem.
Sardelle thought there was room enough in that
partially filled ore cart for her to hide in, but she needed to
convince all of the men to leave for a while.

Methane
, Jaxi
suggested.

That’s
poisonous.

Thus why it would scare
them away, at least until their ventilation system could be
extended down into these new tunnels.

That… might actually
work. Is there some down here we could siphon into the tunnel? Of
course, I’d have to think about how to shield myself. The real gas
would be rather poisonous to me too.

Why not just make
them
think
they smell methane?

Sardelle grimaced at the thought of tinkering
in people’s minds.
That’s a little ethically
ambiguous.

Less painful than
rashes.

Sardelle sighed and leaned her head against
the earthen wall.

I’ll handle it. You can
keep your ethics pure.

Sardelle should have objected, but she
didn’t. She didn’t know how much time she had and how long it would
take to dig out Jaxi.

She waited for the miner near the cart to
move forward around the bend, then trotted up and hopped in. There
was a box of dynamite next to the wall. If she couldn’t pry Jaxi
out with magic, she supposed explosives were an alternative. Though
she might end up burying both of them if she tried that.

She curled into a ball and camouflaged
herself to blend in with the rubble beneath her.
I’m ready.

Already working on
them
.

“You smell that?” someone asked.

The scrapes of pickaxes died away. “What?” A
few noisy sniffs sounded. “Is that gas?”

“It’s leaking out of somewhere. Back up, get
back.”

The thuds of boots approached the cart, then
shadows fell across Sardelle as the men raced past. She held her
breath. She knew she was camouflaged, but it was hard ignoring the
feeling that she was in plain sight as they trotted past. One
frowned down at her, opened his mouth as if he might say something,
but the man behind him gave him a shove, and he continued on. That
one might have a few drops of dragon blood running through his
veins if he had sensed something off about her illusion. She hoped
that wouldn’t come back to trouble her later.

Just get me, and we’ll
worry about it then.

Feeling antsy, are
you?

It
has
been three hundred years.

Everyone cleared out without further trouble,
and Sardelle climbed out of the cart. She grabbed a couple of the
sticks of dynamite before jogging toward the end of the tunnel. She
hoped she could reach Jaxi without using dangerous explosives, but
there were limits to what she could do against a mountain.

I’m about two hundred
meters from the end of their tunnel.

Sardelle grabbed the last lantern hanging on
the wall before the passage grew dark and narrow, fresh earth
upturned along the sides, waiting to be shoveled into carts.

You’re almost
there.

I’ll need you to lend me
some of your power, Jaxi.

That works best when
you’re holding me, but you know I’ll try. I don’t want to be burned
along with the rest of the artifacts those people pull out of
here.

I’m sure you could
withstand the heat of their incinerator.

Maybe so, but I don’t
relish the sunburn.