Patterns in the Dark (Dragon Blood Book 4) (25 page)

Sooner than she would have expected, Sardelle let go of the rope. She flew through the air and disappeared into the hole.

“You want to go next or should I?” Duck asked.

“Go ahead,” Cas said. “Catch me if I fall, all right?”

“I’ll do my best.”

Duck slithered over the edge. As he slid down the rope, some movement below caught Cas’s attention. Frowning, she tried to see around him and to the room. Had someone passed near the glass wall? No, it had been closer to the center of the room. When Duck started swinging back and forth, she saw the movement again, movement his body had been blocking. And she gulped. The tip of the dragon’s tail was twitching.

“Please let that mean he’s having a good dream,” Cas breathed. Then she clamped her mouth shut. How good was a dragon’s hearing? She didn’t even see ears on the creature, but that might not mean anything. Snakes didn’t have ears, either, but they could sense things around them through the earth.

Distracted by the tail, Cas almost missed seeing Duck make the leap toward the hole. His aim wasn’t quite as precise as Zirkander’s and Sardelle’s had been, and he smashed into the corner of the opening. Cas bit her tongue to keep from gasping, afraid he wouldn’t be able to find purchase, and that he would fall and disappear in flames the same way the pebble had. But Zirkander caught Duck and pulled him in before he could drop. Cas’s second fear was that the noise would have been all too audible below—she had distinctly heard the thud of him hitting the rock. The rope bounced around, and if anyone walked out and looked up, it would be clear what was happening.

And if the
dragon
looked up… She could only guess what might be the result of that. Its tail had stopped twitching. Did that mean it had fallen deeper into its stupor? Or did that mean it had woken up and was simply waiting for the appropriate moment to pounce?

For a moment, Cas waited, poised on the edge, debating. She could go back out and try the front entrance, see if she could sneak past—or eliminate—the Cofah guard, but she had no idea what the situation was up there now. Even if she made it in that way, would she know how to find the group? She had no idea as to the layout of this place. Tolemek was already missing. Zirkander wouldn’t want to lose anyone else, especially not one of the officers in his command.

Yes, there he was. Leaning out and waving for her. He alternated looking in her direction and glancing at the dragon and that room. He had to be worried about the noise too. Cas doubted waiting would help the situation.

She grabbed the rope and eased off the ledge. As soon as she started descending, she was glad she had left her pack outside. Even the weight of the rifle on her back pulled at her balance. But she skimmed down as quietly as she could, using her feet as brakes. When she drew even with the opening, she nodded at the others, relieved to see Sardelle and Zirkander watching her. She started swinging, but as she had feared, she didn’t have as much weight as the men, and she struggled to make the length of rope sway back and forth.

Then she had a strange sensation of being assisted. Sardelle had backed away from the ledge, but she had to be doing something. Air whispered past Cas’s cheeks as she sailed through the air, each swing longer than the last. She threw her body into it, eager to escape into that hole. She felt so vulnerable out here, visible to anyone below.

The thought made her glance down to check that tail. But it wasn’t the
tail
that was moving.

The dragon’s large, silver head was rising from the floor. It tilted, and one of its eyes came into view, one of its
open
eyes. The large yellow orb stared into her heart, filling her body with a fear unlike any she had ever felt, even when her flier had been in the middle of crashing.

“Cas,” came a loud whisper from the wall. Zirkander. “Now,” he urged. “Jump!”

More because she was trained to follow orders than out of any intelligent thought or reason, Cas let go of the rope as she neared the end of the swing. As she flew toward the hole, a powerful cry sounded in her mind, far louder and more intrusive than anything Jaxi had uttered.

Intruders!

Chapter 12

From the shadows of the narrow passage, Tolemek rolled his last knock-out grenade around the corner and down the hallway. In the tomb-like silence of the ziggurat, he could hear it bumping along the uneven stone floor, but the murmur of voices didn’t stop. He pulled out his dagger and waited. He almost withdrew his pistol, too, since the Cofah should be aware that he was in their base by now, but these guards didn’t sound hyper vigilant, or even aware that they had intruders. The massive alarm he had expected had never come, at least not that he had heard. He had, however, chanced across more soldiers with slit throats, and suspected he had the other infiltrator to thank for the anemic pursuit from the guards.

“…think it’ll quiet down now?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t mind the excitement. This is the most boring post in the world.”

“I’ll take being bored over being dead.”

“True, but living is no guarantee around here. Every morning I don’t wake up sick, I’m thankful. This place
is
creepy. Wonder what those fools thought they were doing coming up here.”

“I don’t—where’s that smoke coming from?”

The sound of footsteps drifted around the corner, one man jogging forward to check on it. Tolemek rolled onto the balls of his feet, ready to charge down the corridor and deal with the men if he had to, but the grenade had another twenty seconds’ worth of sedative to spit into the air. If he ran in, he risked receiving a whiff himself. Better to let the men take the full dose first.

“This ball thing.” A thump sounded, and Tolemek’s smoke grenade flew past his intersection and disappeared down the corridor, ricocheting off the walls.

So much for a full dose.

Holding his breath, Tolemek charged around the corner. The closest guard, the one who had kicked it, was leaning against the wall, his eyes drooping shut. But they popped open when he spotted Tolemek.

The guard reached for a pistol holstered at his hip. His movements were slow, and Tolemek had time to throw a knife first. It struck the soldier in the wrist, and his pistol fell from his grip. Tolemek grabbed him by the shoulder and punched him in the gut. The man might have fallen, but Tolemek kept him upright, aware of the second soldier racing down the hall at him, a weapon raised. This one’s reflexes had not been dulled, but with the other Cofah blocking the way, the guard did not fire.

Tolemek leaned out and flung one of his goo webs at his face. These two were wearing normal uniforms, not the heavy suits and helmets, and it would have worked, but the man ducked. The web flew past, plastering to the wall instead. But the distraction gave Tolemek time to dig out a vial and hurl it at the soldier’s feet. Glass shattered, and thin liquid splattered across the floor, lubricating the stones. The guard’s boots flew into the air, and he landed hard, his head striking the wall on the way down. Careful not to lose his own footing, Tolemek kicked the soldier’s hand, sending his pistol flying down the corridor.

The first man had recovered his wits, and he grabbed Tolemek’s arm, trying to twist into him for a shoulder throw. But enough of the sedative had hit the guard’s senses that his movements were sluggish. Tolemek read the attack and deflected the groping arm. He ducked and slammed his elbow into the man’s sternum, then followed by ramming him against the wall several times. The brutality made him uncomfortable, and he wished his sedative had knocked the guards out instead, but the man’s eyes eventually rolled back into his head, and he slumped.

The man who had fallen had not struck his skull hard enough to be knocked out, but he was struggling to get to his feet, the passage all around him more slippery than ice.

Tolemek caught a flailing arm and pulled the man to his feet, then pressed a knife to his throat.

“Where is my sis—the girl?” he asked, making his tone as cold as possible. “I have vials that contain far deadlier substances than lubricants.”

Usually that would be a bluff, and Tolemek would shy away from seriously harming his own people, but the fact that the soldiers were forcing his sister to interact with that dragon, to risk catching that disease, while they hid in the laboratory and wore those protective suits… It infuriated him. The rage flowing through his veins made him want to run through the base, shooting everyone in sight.

The guard set his jaw and glared back without saying a word.

“Do you know who I am?” Tolemek whispered.

The man’s eyes narrowed, but he kept his jaw clenched.

“The pirates call me Deathmaker.” Without moving the knife from the man’s throat, Tolemek dug into a pouch on his belt. He withdrew a tiny gray ball less than a centimeter thick. “If I throw this on the ground at your feet, you die. Oh, I could simply cut your throat and save my tools for later use, but I enjoy seeing my gases work, melting the skin off my victims, burning through muscle and then down to organs, eating them—eating
you
from the outside in, while you live to experience every moment, until your heart finally stops. After hours of torment.”

Tolemek was preparing an answer to the next obvious argument, that he wouldn’t throw such a gas around while he was nearby, but some of the mulishness had faded from the guard when he had shared his infamous nickname. He licked his lips, his gaze darting both ways down the corridor.

“No help is coming,” Tolemek whispered, hoping he spoke the truth. “Where’s the girl?”

“In the lab.”

“Which way?”

Tolemek thought he was going in the right direction, but it wouldn’t hurt to ask. Of course, the man might lie to him.

But the fight had gone out of the guard. He tilted his head to the side, toward the direction Tolemek had been heading.

“Good.” He wanted to race off, but could not leave guards lying around, especially conscious ones. “Take off your trousers and give me your belt.”

It took him a few minutes to tie up the men and find an alcove to stuff them in, and he lamented the loss of time. When he returned to the hunt, he had the guards’ pistols, one in each hand, and he ran in the direction the man had indicated. He was out of vials and knock-out grenades, and contrary to what he had told the guard, he didn’t have any smokes capable of eating human flesh. He would have to go forward with more conventional weapons—and hope he didn’t run into an army.

Tolemek jogged down the corridor, feeling a sense of urgency, of limited time. He turned a corner, then two more, hoping he was still heading toward the center of the structure. Earlier, he had been sure, but with all the turns, he worried that he had lost his sense of direction.

Finally, voices sounded in the distance, and the light grew brighter ahead. Soft clanks came, like a hammer banging on nails. Odd.

Tolemek increased his pace, came to another intersection, and leaned his head around the corner, checking in all directions. A glint of glass caught his eye. The lab? He couldn’t see a door yet, but everything else down here was made from ancient stone. He barely kept himself from breaking into a jog. But as he strode down the hall, the voices and clanks grew louder. He heard at least two people talking, and who knew how many more weren’t saying anything? Tolemek wished he had saved the knock-out grenade and not wasted it back on those guards.

When he leaned around the next corner, he spotted two men in those bulky suits standing outside of a glass door. They weren’t wearing the helmets, but they did have rifles. The door they guarded was part of a glass wall, and other uniformed men moved about inside, packing things in crates. A couple wore the heavy suits, helmets included, but most looked like soldiers who had been recruited to help. This was indeed the laboratory Tolemek had seen from above. The dragon’s bulky form was visible on the far side, beyond another clear wall.

Unfortunately, one of the guards outside of the door spotted Tolemek, and he did not have time to count the exact number of people in that lab—or formulate a plan.

“Harmek,” the man barked, jerking his rifle around.

Using the corner for cover, Tolemek raised his pistol, hoping to fire first, then duck back before he was hit.

Before he squeezed the trigger, a loud voice resonated in his mind, a fierce cry of,
Intruders!

Surprisingly, the guards seemed to hear it too. They both jumped, and the one who had been aiming at Tolemek stumbled back, smacking into the glass wall and nearly dropping his weapon. Tolemek took advantage of his distraction and shot with both pistols. One bullet slammed into one man’s chest, the suit doing nothing to deflect the attack. His aim wasn’t as good with his left hand, and he only clipped the other guard in the shoulder.

He thought about charging out, anyway, trying to overpower the soldier before he recovered, but the men behind the glass had heard the fighting. Tolemek threw his knife instead, then ducked back behind the corner. The injured man did not react quickly enough to dodge, and the blade clipped his throat. Tolemek did not know if it was a killing blow, but the guard should be out of the fight. Good, because the glass door slammed open.

Expecting the men to race outside after him, firearms leading, Tolemek backed up a few steps and prepared to fire at the first person who rounded the corner. But something clanked instead, and a canister bounced into view. Tear gas. He remembered the brown canisters with their skull and sword symbol well from his army days. It was already spewing yellow smoke. Tolemek held his breath and squinted his eyes to slits, then rushed forward and grabbed it.

The heavy glass door was swinging shut, the men inside waiting for the smoke to incapacitate him before charging out. He snatched up the canister, ignored the way it burned his palm, and flung it at the gap before the door closed. It glanced off the edge, and he thought it would bounce back toward him, but the obstacle only deflected the canister slightly. It still bounced inside.

Someone inside the room fired. Tolemek threw himself back around the corner, afraid the bullet would cut through the glass and slam into him. But the thick wall cracked without breaking, and the men inside were the ones who had to duck. Someone shouted a curse at the unthinking soldier.