Soulblade (2 page)

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Authors: Lindsay Buroker

Tags: #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fantasy, #Epic, #Sword & Sorcery, #Science Fiction, #Military, #Space Marine, #Steampunk, #General Fiction

BOOK: Soulblade
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“I understand,” Sardelle murmured, but she could not afford to wait. If Ridge
was
alive, it was very likely he was injured, and even in late spring, those mountains were not hospitable.

“I hope you’ll stay close, Sardelle.” Ort lowered his hand. “I’m saying that partially out of selfishness, of course, since you’re amazingly helpful. But we would miss you too. I know Ridge was what brought you here to the army, but I hope you’ll stay around for other reasons too. The general population might not be ready to accept magic and sorceresses yet, but we—” he waved toward the army fort, “—and the king certainly appreciate you.”

“I understand,” she said again. “Thank you for your time, General. Vilhem.”

“Sardelle?”

She turned, hoping he had changed his mind. “Yes?”

“I’m riding out to see Fern this evening, if you want to join me. I think she’d like to see you.”

A sense of bleakness filled Sardelle. Ridge’s mother
had
made her feel like family, but she had also never learned what Sardelle was, of the magic she could wield. Would she
truly
like to see Sardelle? Or without Ridge there, would it be uncomfortable and awkward? General Ort had known Ridge and presumably his mother for years. Sardelle had come into his life so recently and into Fern’s life even more recently. Besides, going to see her would be like admitting that Ridge truly was dead. She wasn’t ready to do that.

“I’ll think about it. Thank you for offering.”

Ort smiled sadly at her, and Sardelle turned for the door. She wouldn’t abandon the army or Iskandia, but she wasn’t going to take the chance that she was leaving a living but wounded Ridge out there somewhere. She would check on him, one way or another.

We’re not going on foot, are we?
Jaxi shared an image of Sardelle on a horse, a cloak wrapped around her as she tried to find a snow-covered trail that wasn’t there up into the treacherous mountains.

I hope not. There’s one more person I can ask for this favor.

• • • • •

Two guards escorted Tolemek through the castle and toward the big glassed-in patio outside the throne room. Even though he had been invited to meet with the king several times since being placed on the royal payroll, they regarded him warily, fingering their pistols and walking too close to his side for comfort. As usual, he had endured a search that involved poking through his pockets, patting down his arms and legs, making him remove his lab coat, and even lifting his long ropes of hair. Clearly, a man’s hair was the natural hiding place for bombs, poisons, and nefarious serums.

Tolemek wagered Zirkander had strolled into the castle unchallenged, the guards not even bothering to remove his sidearm. He frowned at himself as soon as the thought percolated through his mind. Being jealous of a dead man? Not acceptable. Besides, Zirkander had proven himself a hero here for decades. Tolemek would always be an outsider, and his background was far from heroic.

“The king will join you shortly,” one of the guards said, pushing open the door that led to the atrium and letting the heady scents of flowers, loamy earth, and citrus fruits escape. “You’re to sit at the table and wait. Don’t touch anything.”

“How can I sit at the table without touching the chair?”

“You’re a witch, aren’t you? Figure it out.”

“I’m a scientist.” When had it become common knowledge that he had dragon blood? He hadn’t even known for most of his adult life, until Jaxi had told him.

“No kidding,” the second man growled, his eyes haunted.

The door shut behind Tolemek and would have bumped him in the butt if he hadn’t scurried into the atrium quickly enough. No, his background was not heroic, and neither Iskandia nor Cofahre wanted to let him forget it.

He walked between the potted trees and vining plants, their limbs stretching toward the glass ceiling, the blue sky visible above. There was already somebody sitting at the wrought-iron table, its surface covered with a forest green tablecloth embellished with leaves stitched in golden thread. His mood lifted immediately.

Caslin “Raptor” Ahn stood as he approached, her uniform pressed, her boots shined, and her short hair flattened from her army cap, which now rested on the table in front of her. She had returned to the military and Wolf Squadron and wore her lieutenant’s insignia once more. Her face was somber—she had just started smiling again after Apex’s death, but then she lost her commander. Still, she greeted him with a hug.

“I wasn’t expecting you.” Tolemek glanced toward the trees, suspecting a few more guards stood on the outskirts of the atrium, hidden by fountains and foliage. He gave her a quick kiss before taking a seat next to the one she had claimed at the far end of the table from where the king sat for these meetings.

“I’m not surprised to see you. I was told this was about a new mission. We’ll probably need knockout grenades and healing goos.”

Tolemek grimaced, fearing his help would be requested not for an enticing new mission but for a very unappealing war. The rumors floating around the capital said that the Cofah were threatening to launch a full-scale invasion to avenge the airships that had been destroyed the week before. The empire might not be Tolemek’s home anymore, but his soul ached every time he had to fight against his own people. He’d been a part of the Cofah army once, and whatever orders the emperor issued, the men were just men, no more evil or bad than their Iskandian counterparts.

“You’re not pleased by the opportunity to share your goos?” Cas asked.

“I would be tickled to share Healing Salve Number Seven with anyone who wanted it. Somehow, I doubt that’s what the king called me here about. He always wants weapons.”

“If the Cofah would stop attacking us, maybe he’d want something less dire.” Cas sat down again, clasped his hand, and lowered her voice. “I know you don’t want to fight your own people. Maybe this will be about something else.”

Tolemek grunted dubiously. Cas, known for her marksmanship, wouldn’t likely have been invited to this meeting if the king had anything peaceful planned. He was surprised she was the only one from her squadron here. Tolemek would have expected General Ort or whoever had taken over Wolf Squadron after Zirkander had been promoted.

“Were you the only one of your pilot people invited to this meeting?” Tolemek eyed the table. It could seat more than a dozen, but there weren’t any place settings or anything to hint as to how many people would be at this meeting. It couldn’t just be him and Cas, unless this had something to do with the bounty Emperor Salatak had put on Tolemek’s head. But that wouldn’t involve a “mission” for Cas.

“Yes. Captains Crash and Blazer seemed envious. I’m not sure if Colonel Madiken was envious. He’s hard to read. He got transferred over from Cougar Squadron on the East Coast. I don’t know any of those pilots well.”

“Is he the one who took over for...” Tolemek spread his hand. He was trying to be circumspect with Cas in regard to Zirkander’s death. Besides, he would have found it difficult to be blunt. If he was honest with himself, he would admit that even he missed Zirkander. Aside from Cas and Sardelle, there weren’t many people here who went out of their way to talk to him, and Sardelle hadn’t been around much since Zirkander’s death. Cas had been a more frequent visitor of late, fortunately, but with Tylie still studying and staying with Sardelle, Tolemek’s work days and evenings had been quiet. Lonely even. He ought to go out to visit them, but it felt strange going to see Sardelle without Zirkander around.

“Yes,” Cas said. “We didn’t have anyone with enough rank to lead the squadron, and nobody ready to promote into the position. At least General Ort didn’t think so.”

“Ah.”

Cas rested her hand on his, running her thumb along his knuckles. “I walked past a house for rent on the way here. It had an upstairs and a downstairs, with bedrooms on each end. We could have guests over, and it would still be… private.”

“Oh,” Tolemek said neutrally.

He did not want to discourage Cas’s interest in making more permanent arrangements with him, since neither her room in the barracks nor the studio the king had arranged for him was ideal for two, especially two who liked to engage in amorous activities in private. When Tylie visited, such activities were effectively squelched. But the idea of committing to a lease or buying a property made him twitch. Even though he adored Cas, he hadn’t stopped thinking of Iskandia as temporary. A place to live for now.

He had to admit that he had speculated about taking Cas off to explore the world one day, something he might have brought up during the weeks after she had quit the army if she had been around more then. He eyed her shiny rank pins, accepting that it was less of a possibility now. He couldn’t ask her to quit and leave her country for his sake.

“I could show it to you later,” she went on, watching his eyes, a hint of wariness in her own. She didn’t want to push. “Or we could look for something else together. Only if you’re interested, of course.”

“How long was the lease?”

“This one required two years, I believe.”

With great effort, Tolemek kept his eyes from bulging out of their sockets. Twenty-four months. Did he want to commit to twenty-four months in Iskandia? What if another assassin came looking for him? He would hate to leave Cas to pay for a house by herself. As far as he knew, her wealthy father kept his wealth to himself, so she had only her lieutenant’s salary.

“Perhaps we could look for something with a shorter term,” he suggested.

She smiled and squeezed his hand. “I would be open to that. It would be nice to have a place that we could make entirely our own, with elements of both of us in it.”

“Like artwork on the walls made from used bullets and volumetric flasks?”

She swatted him. He probably deserved it.

A thump sounded, the door opening. Tolemek leaned back to see who would join them next. A single set of boots thudded lightly behind the trees, so it wasn’t the king. When he arrived, at least two bodyguards would escort him.

Captain Kaika strolled into view, also wearing her uniform.

“Who’s ready for a new mission?” she asked, giving them a cheerful wave before plopping into a chair near the head of the table.

Cas frowned slightly, as if finding the cheer inappropriate. Kaika hadn’t known Zirkander that long. His death probably hadn’t left a giant hole in her life.

“I wasn’t aware that I was someone who was sent on missions.” Tolemek waved to indicate his lack of a uniform.

“Please, you’ve been on almost every mission I’ve been on this year.”

“Captain,” Cas said, “do you know what this is about?”

“Yup.” She smiled at them.

“Are you going to tell us?”

“Nope.” Her smile broadened.

“Because you enjoy being mysterious or because you’ve been ordered not to?” Tolemek asked.

“It was more of a suggestion than, say, a royal order, but I can take a hint.”

The door thumped open again, and a guard said, “That way, sir.”

Sir. Still not the king. Someone who got more respect than Tolemek, but that wasn’t unusual.

He, Cas, and Kaika turned to look at the newcomer, another officer in uniform, this one wearing more rank than anyone else in the atrium. A colonel. Tolemek had seen the markings often enough to recognize them. He did not, however, recognize the man or the name on his jacket. Quataldo. The officer appeared to be bald under his uniform cap, or close to it, but he probably wasn’t much older than Zirkander had been. Early forties. None of Zirkander’s humor showed in his blue eyes. The man had plain features with a saturnine turn to his mouth. There was something akin to a dancer’s grace to his movements, even if he appeared hesitant here.

Cas and Kaika stood together and saluted. The colonel returned the gesture. “At ease.” He had a soft voice.

Kaika had
been
at ease, with her boots up on the table. Both she and Cas appeared much more at ease than the new fellow, who eyed the birds flapping about in the treetops like a man who had never been here before. He considered the open seats and chose the one next to Kaika. He didn’t have pilot wings on his uniform, so he wasn’t one of Cas’s bosses. Tolemek looked to Kaika, wondering if this might be another elite forces officer, someone the king had selected to lead the mission. Remembering Therrik, Tolemek grimaced. That hadn’t gone well.

“You needn’t look so morose, sir,” Kaika said, flipping a hand toward Quataldo. “You’ll like it. I bet you’ll find some eggs.”

“Eggs?” Tolemek mouthed to Cas.

She shrugged at him.

“You have previous knowledge of this mission, Captain Kaika?” Quataldo tilted his head. “I was told—I was led to believe that nobody had been briefed yet.”

“Were you?” She smiled. “Huh.”

Tolemek had heard rumors that Kaika had started a relationship with King Angulus. He wasn’t much for listening to gossip or assuming anything from it, but he now wondered if it was true. Her boots went back up on the table. She certainly appeared comfortable around the castle.

A throat cleared by the door. “His Royal Highness has arrived.”

Chairs scraped on the flagstone patio as everyone scooted them back. Kaika’s boots came down from the table. Tolemek stood along with the others, though he never felt certain of what he was supposed to do when Angulus entered. The officers saluted. A civilian or a soldier out of uniform was supposed to genuflect, but that presumed they were subjects. Nobody had yet suggested to Tolemek that he should become a subject, and he was relieved by that. So far, he had been treated well enough by the king, even if his reception by the average Iskandian was lacking, and he had a fantastic laboratory to work in. Still, if not for Cas and the fact that Sardelle was instructing his sister, he doubted he would be on these shores.

Four bodyguards accompanied the king into the atrium, then disappeared into the foliage at a flick of his hand to observe discreetly. Angulus strode to the table, clad in unadorned wool and cotton clothing, nothing like the embellished robes he wore when he addressed the people, but his height and broad shoulders gave him a presence that conveyed his position even in the simple attire.

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