5.5 - Under the Ice Blades (17 page)

A noisy snort sounded in his head.
As if any of
your
people would have a clue as to how to interpret this chamber and that plaque.

Sire
, Angulus thought back.

Pardon?

It’s my title. My subjects use it.

I’m not your subject. I am the mind and soul of a powerful sorceress who lived centuries before your parents ever contemplated getting randy and producing you.

Angulus rubbed his brow, wondering why he was arguing with a sword. After being awake all night, he felt crabby and punchy. He should have dropped the conversation, but he had a petty urge to get in the last word.

Sardelle is a powerful sorceress, and she calls me Sire.

Yes, but that’s because she wants to be in your good graces, so you’ll let her keep sleeping with her soul snozzle. I don’t want to sleep with any of your subjects, so there’s no need for such extreme politeness.

Her what?

Her soul snozzle. Ridge.

“Zirkander, did you know that sword has a nickname for you?” Angulus asked.

Zirkander looked startled enough to
drop
the sword. “She’s talking to you?”

“Yes.”

Judging by the expression on Zirkander’s face, he didn’t know whether to share his condolences or ask for details. “She’s supposed to be looking at that plaque, not sharing embarrassing nicknames.” He walked closer to the wall, drew the blade, and waved it at the plaque in big arcs.

“So you
did
know,” Angulus said, tickled despite his weariness.

It wasn’t clear whether Zirkander’s baleful expression was for Angulus or the sword. Perhaps both.

Quit waving me around like a fly swatter, Ridge. I have news for you two.

Angulus raised his brows.

“Yes?” Zirkander returned the blade to its scabbard.

I can’t read the contents of that plaque, but Sardelle can, so she’s been translating.

Angulus glanced in the direction of the exit, half expecting Sardelle to be standing there.

Through me
, Jaxi clarified.

“All the way down in the valley?”

Yes. Ridge, you should tell your people to read up on soulblades and links between them and their handlers, so I don’t have to explain how everything works every time we bring a new sheep into the fold.

“Jaxi,” Ridge said slowly, “did you just call the king a sheep?”

“It’s not as bad as what she calls you. What does the sign say, Jaxi?” Addressing his question to the scabbard in Zirkander’s hands was exceedingly weird.

These dragons were imprisoned here between 1403 and 702 Before Dominion. They were criminals, as judged by the humans and other dragons of the time. Murderers of their own kind and of the humans that the dragons of the period had an alliance with—the tribes who lived here before Iskandia united.

“Criminals?” Angulus mouthed, looking toward the cavern entrance, though he could not see the sky that Morishtomaric had flown off into, not from here. “Are you saying I released a murderer?”

According to the plaque, yes. That one was... Morishtomaric. One of several of this band of... there’s not an equivalent in the modern tongue. Something like pirates. They killed and pillaged all across the world, enslaving humans and lesser dragons.

Angulus walked to the column Zirkander had been leaning against and used it to brace himself. He needed the support. “Any idea what the Cofah sorceress wanted with him? Or them?”

He couldn’t trust the vision the dragon had shown to him. He wagered it was a half-truth at best. Still, it seemed plausible that the sorceress had, indeed, come and tried to enlist the dragons’ aid. If Morishtomaric hadn’t been willing to give it, she might have decided it was better to kill them all, to ensure that the Iskandians couldn’t have the dragons as allies, either. She might have left her two men behind, giving them that suicide mission to ensure that none of the scientists or soldiers found their way here to do exactly as Kaika had done. It was amazing that her men would have agreed to that. Could she have some mental powers to force people to do her will? Or could she manipulate them, as Morishtomaric had manipulated Angulus?

I wasn’t here,
Jaxi said,
and the other dragons aren’t talking.

“Maybe we should have let the bombs go off.” Angulus eyed the explosives. One had toppled to the ground, but none of them had gone off during that last earthquake. Perhaps it would have been better if they had. “Why were the dragons imprisoned if they were so evil? Why didn’t the people of that time kill them?”

They’re gold dragons
, Jaxi said.

“So?” Angulus shrugged at Zirkander who shrugged back.

Golds were the most powerful and the natural rulers. Many humans considered them gods. You
still
have a dragon god in your pantheon. To kill them would have been blasphemous.

“So they’ve been here in this mountainside for thousands of years. Forgotten.”

“Not entirely forgotten,” Zirkander said. “That sorceress remembered they were here.”

It’s possible there were texts about the prison in her time, that it was even general knowledge to sorcerers back then, but that it’s since been forgotten. I’d never heard about the place, nor had Sardelle. We didn’t even sense the presence of the dragons as we were flying up. The carapaces muffle their auras. For all intents and purposes, those dragons are dead. Until the prison is deactivated, and then they’re not.
Jaxi offered a mental shrug.
I don’t understand the magic. It’s as long forgotten as the dragons.

“So we have a criminal dragon and a Cofah sorceress roaming the country,” Angulus said. “Captain Kaika’s next assignment may be within our borders, rather than overseas.” He would have to think about what kind of team he could send with her to even the odds. Explosives alone wouldn’t be a match for either a dragon or a sorceress.

“She won’t be returning to instructing my young pilots in the ways of being pulverized by grumpy ground troops?” Zirkander asked.

“She’s not grumpy. She’s... wrongfully placed.”

“I can’t imagine what that’s like.” Zirkander’s expression twisted into one of wry regret, but he recovered soon and tapped the sword scabbard. “Jaxi’s seen enough. She’s given Sardelle the names of the dragons listed, so she can do some research on them if that’s what you want.” Zirkander stuck a hand in his pocket and regarded the remaining statues. “Do you think it might be better to go ahead and finish what the Cofah started?”

“Blow up the cavern?”

“We don’t want someone else coming along to let out a bunch of criminals, do we?”

“This cavern’s location is not fortuitous. With our weapons research facility so close, we don’t want explosions going off next door.”

“Maybe the facility should be moved. Since at least one Cofah got away, one who now knows where it is.”

“I’ll consider it,” Angulus said.

The Dandelion facility
should
be moved, but would blowing up the cavern—and the statues within it—be the best option? If Angulus could make a deal with those dragons, such creatures could go a long way toward evening the odds against the empire. He just didn’t know what leverage he could use to keep them in line or, more likely, what reward he could offer to entice them. He certainly hadn’t been successful in dealing with Morishtomaric.

“I’ll talk to the council,” Angulus added, “and I want Sardelle’s research on the dragons before condemning them to death. I also want to see what this Morishtomaric does.”

“Hopefully he doesn’t eat a small city.”

Angulus nodded bleakly. If the dragon
did
, it would be on his head.

“Let’s go, Zirkander.” Angulus headed for the exit. “I want to make sure Kaika is comfortable.”

“Now that you and Jaxi are friends, she’ll probably give you advice on that.”

“On making people comfortable?”

“On finding mutual comfort with them.”

“Getting advice on
comfort
from a sword sounds appalling.” Angulus was glad that Kaika did not come with a sentient sword or a magical background. Her passion for explosives seemed quite tame in comparison.

“It takes some getting used to.”

“Is the advice ever apt?”

My advice is
always
apt
, Jaxi butted in.
You don’t exist for hundreds of years without gaining some wisdom.

“Yes,” Zirkander said, “I understand she’s read hundreds of romance novels.”

“Ah.”

K
aika sat cross-legged at the top of the convex hangar roof, the harbor spread out below with the sea and the sunset visible beyond the breakwater. The army fort lay tucked at the base of the butte, with the city sprawling miles to the north and east beyond it. The castle rose upon its rocky hill at the other end of the harbor. From up here, she and her companion had a view of the entire capital.

“A perfect place for a picnic dinner,” Kaika announced, patting the basket sitting on the roof beside her. Angulus sat on the other side of it, eyeing the roof’s slope where it steepened, eventually dropping three stories to the runway that the fliers used to take off from the butte. Tiger Squadron was up in the air over the harbor now, practicing battle maneuvers, the buzz of their engines competing with the roar of the ocean. “We can watch the air show from up close, and this will be quite the sight when they come in to land.”

Angulus lifted a hand toward the bodyguards milling below—one was frowning disapprovingly up at him. “The view
is
stunning,” he said, “but my guards seem to be concerned with my elevation. They’ve been extra assiduous in their duties since they heard that I was trapped by rockfalls and almost blown up without them.”

“So long as they don’t come up here. I want to show you that I can, indeed, enjoy a quiet, sedate dinner without finding it boring.” Kaika wanted to do more than have dinner, especially now that there wasn’t a bullet lodged in her back, nestled perilously close to her spine. Fortunately, thanks to Sardelle, her recovery hadn’t taken long, and she would be returning to duty soon, but not, she hoped, before she and Angulus had some private, bodyguard-free time together.

“I’m not sure this qualifies as sedate.” Angulus pointed toward the breakwater and a trail across the top of the massive black boulders protecting the harbor from the ocean. “We’re higher than those seagulls.”

“They’re clearly chubby underachievers. Looks like someone’s been feeding them bread.” Kaika turned her gaze toward the sky, to the fliers and beyond. She kept expecting to look up and see that dragon sailing around. “Speaking of feeding, have there been any reports about our oldest Iskandian criminal?”

“Not yet. He may be licking his wounds. Or maybe he flew over to Cofahre to feed himself there.” Angulus looked grim, like he did not expect that to happen.

Kaika gripped his arm. “If not, we’ll convince him to do so.”

Angulus gazed down at her arm. “At least one good thing came out of my ill-advised and inappropriately manned mission.”

“You cut the throat of a Cofah operative who’s vexed me numerous times?”

“That’s not exactly what I was thinking of, but if I rid the world of a man who has vexed you, then I feel somewhat useful.” He laid a hand on her hand.

“You were very useful. I’d crawl through a tunnel with you anytime.”

A lopsided smile made its way onto his face. “That’s encouraging. I’d been wondering... since the kidnapping... if I would have amounted to anything if I hadn’t been born into my current position. I’m relieved that I didn’t fall apart at the first sign of pressure.” He patted her hand and released it. “I suppose I shouldn’t be confessing such things. Women prefer confident men, I hear.”

“You’re confident. Just not with women. I’ve seen you in your element, giving speeches to the troops and negotiating with diplomats.”

“You’ve seen me negotiate with diplomats?”

“Well, no, but I read about how you did it once in a newspaper article. You sounded very competent.”

“Hm.”

“Now tell me what the one good thing was,” Kaika said.

His smile grew shy. “That I got to confess my feelings for you. And that you were—what was the way you put it?—checking out my ass within minutes.”

“Really, Sire. I’m sure it took me closer to an hour to get around to that.” Kaika patted the top of the basket. “Shall we see what kind of grub your cook packed us?”

“Very well, but I should inform you that she’s a chef. She attended three different culinary academies and worked in one of the most sophisticated restaurants in the city before coming to join my staff. She might be offended to have her creations defined so carelessly.”

“Are those dragon horn cookies?” Kaika had her head in the basket, and she withdrew a carefully wrapped parcel, tearing into it with childish glee to reveal chocolate-dipped treats. “They
are
cookies.”

When Angulus did not comment, she looked up. He’d said something, hadn’t he? About a chef. She hadn’t had dragon horns in ages and had forgotten to pay attention. Fortunately, he did not appear annoyed. He was gazing at her and still smiling.

“There’s something to be said for simple pleasures, isn’t there?” he murmured, watching her lips.

“I told you, I’m a simple girl, Sire.” Kaika handed him a cookie. Delightful smells of herbs, seafood, and bread wafted out of the basket, too, but there was nothing wrong with having dessert first.

“You can call me Angulus.” He nibbled on the end of his cookie.

Kaika licked the chocolate-dipped end of her dragon horn. “What shall I call you in bed?”

Angulus coughed. Hard to believe such a little nibble of cookie could cause that reaction. “I, ah, what do you mean?”

“Like a nickname.”

“I haven’t noticed that Angulus shortens itself to anything flattering.” His lips parted as he watched her tasting the cookie.

Kaika deliberately teased him as she enjoyed the chocolate. “No? Once we get your clothes off, I’ll see what I can come up with.” She surveyed him from head to toe, letting her gaze linger in certain spots.