Patterns in the Dark (Dragon Blood Book 4) (9 page)

“That one of ’em?” one asked, waving at a distant figure silhouetted by the moon.

“Might be. Come on.”

The men passed Cas and Sardelle so closely that they could have touched them. The scents of alcohol, sweat, and smoke wafted off them in repugnant waves. Cas wrinkled her nose but didn’t otherwise move.

She waited until the men had shuffled a couple dozen meters down the beach before whispering, “That’s a handy skill.”

“Yes, against humans, anyway. Animals sometimes see through it, and…”

“What?” Cas asked, surprised by the uncertainty in Sardelle’s voice.

“Let’s just say that I’ve been concerned that the dragon is working for the Cofah and won’t take kindly to our intrusion. I certainly can’t fool him. As far as magical power goes, Jaxi and I would be like fleas in comparison to such a creature.” Sardelle snorted. “Especially me, Jaxi points out. She thinks she may rate closer to a mosquito in her ability to harry a dragon.”

“Oh.” Maybe Cas shouldn’t have asked. Even though the Cofah had the dragon blood, it hadn’t occurred to Cas that the dragon might be a true ally of theirs. She winced at the thought of it flying through Iskandian skies, burning the countryside—and the cities.

“We’re concerned that the dragon wouldn’t talk to us. Jaxi reached out to him, and he should have been aware of her presence, but he neither welcomed us nor warned us away.”

“Maybe it’s—he’s—unconscious,” Cas said. “The Cofah have been taking all that blood…”

“Based on what we’ve seen, a relatively small amount has been taken, given the size of a dragon, and it seems like it’s being done over time. That shouldn’t affect the health of a dragon. I had the thought that the creature might be staying silent to lure us into a trap.”

“Heartening.”

“Yes, I know. Sorry, I’ll try to be more optimistic about our mission. I—” Sardelle had been looking at Cas, but her gaze shifted toward the bay again, toward the dirigible.

As far as Cas could see, nothing had changed, but her vision, as sharp as it was, was limited at night. Presumably, a sorceress had more senses than eyesight to employ. “Can you tell how many people are on there?” she asked.

“Forty or fifty. I don’t sense anyone with otherworldly power, nor do the people seem to be here for a military purpose. The ship has weapons, for defense, I assume, but the people inside are having dinner and drinking. They seem like civilians, tourists, maybe.”

“You can tell all that from here?”

“Jaxi can, yes. But one of the hatches on the opposite side opened. I’m trying to see—let’s go down to the water for a better view.”

The woman-hungry brutes had disappeared around a bend in the terrain, so Cas didn’t hesitate to follow her. A breeze came up to help them—or maybe Sardelle was responsible for that—and turned the end of the dirigible, so that open hatch became visible. Lights may have been burning behind the windows, but the room or luggage compartment or whatever they were looking at was dark. Cas couldn’t see into the interior, but some quick hint of movement caught her eye, flying out like an arrow. But if it
was
an arrow, she lost sight of it against the dark sky.

“Is that…” Cas checked her pockets, not sure if she had left her collapsible spyglass in her pack. Ah, there it was. She slipped it out, extended it, and located the open hatch. “A thin rope or cable is coming out of it. Do you see that? It’s taut.” She followed it with the spyglass, but even with the enhanced distance vision, she had a hard time seeing where the rope ended. It had attached to something on land, though, on the far side of the bay from the city, in what looked like an uninhabited rocky ridge. The terrain thrusting out into the ocean was part of what protected the harbor. “Do you want to see?” Cas held out the spyglass.

“I see enough,” Sardelle said. “Look.” She pointed.

A dark figure leaped out of the hatch. He hung from a belt or something similar that he had looped over the rope, and sped down the taut line toward the landmass. Dark clothing, gloves, and a hood shrouded his body, so Cas couldn’t tell anything about the figure, other than that the breadth of the shoulders and overall size meant it was probably a man. He sped down the rope at an impressive speed, then let go when he reached the ridge. He dropped ten or fifteen feet, but landed lightly, absorbing the impact without trouble. The darkness of the rocks soon swallowed him, and he was lost from view. Back on the dirigible, the rope was cut and the hatch shut.

“I guess he didn’t want to pay the dock fees,” Sardelle said.

Cas lowered her spyglass. “What are the odds that he doesn’t have anything to do with us? Want to bet?”

“I don’t know how anyone could know we’re here.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

Sardelle sighed. “No, I don’t think I want to try and answer it. Or take your bet.”

“We better make our wash session quick and report back to the colonel.”

“I’ve already told him. No need to rush too much. I’d prefer to find a private spot where pirates won’t amble past and leer.”

“Can’t you just make us invisible?”

“I suppose, but I don’t want to have to smell pirates ambling past, either.”

“Sounds reasonable.” Cas trailed after Sardelle, though she couldn’t help but gaze back toward the ridge and wonder who that ship had deposited.

* * *

Tolemek was in a poor mood by the time he turned down the street leading back to their lodgings above the Tethered Tentacle. Not only had his skulking around and questioning people amounted to nothing, but he regretted his entire conversation with Cas. She had been in a playful mood, and he had ruined it. And why? Because of his pathetic insecurities? What had he expected when he confessed that he loved her? That she would fling her arms around him and cry, “Me too!” in return? She had looked more like a cornered animal. If that hadn’t been enough of a crime, he had pushed her with that stupid question about who she would choose if he and Zirkander went separate ways.

She had been right, in that there was no reason for him to worry about that possibility, not yet. So why had he asked? Because he had wanted her to answer that she would
of course
go with him instead of with the colonel? Yes, he had, even though he knew that was… wanting too much. And it wasn’t fair to foist that question on her unless he had to. If the time did come, he had to understand that Zirkander was tied in with her career and her duty to her nation. If she chose to stay with her squadron, it wasn’t as if she was choosing Zirkander over Tolemek. It just felt that way.

He took some solace in the fact that she had still offered to come with him to hunt for information. He shouldn’t have rejected that offer. That had been petty. Like if he couldn’t have all of her, heart and soul, he didn’t want anything to do with her? No, that wasn’t true at all. He needed to be more mature about this. Wasn’t he supposed to be the older and wiser one? The older and wiser one who had spent far too many nights in his lab instead of experiencing meaningful relationships with women, relationships that might have taught him to be less of an…

“Idiot,” he grumbled.

At least you acknowledge it
, came a cheerful and unwelcome voice in his head.
Not all men are so percipient
.

What do you want, Jaxi?

To give you advice. You should return to your room, remove your shirt, and flex your muscles in a manly way as you recite a poem of penitence for your lady.

Tolemek grimaced.
I don’t think Cas is the kind of woman who gets weak-kneed at the notion of poetry.

All women get weak-kneed if it’s heartfelt. Trust me, this works.

Didn’t Sardelle say that you’ve been in that sword since you were a teenager? How much personal experience could you have on this matter?
And why was he having this conversation with a sentient sword who was butting into his head?

I’ve been around for hundreds of years. I’ve witnessed countless relationships. And I’ve read thousands of books.

Tolemek imagined the sword lying across the open pages of a relationship manual.
So, basically you have
no
personal experience in this arena.

I’m closely linked to my handlers, some of whom have been quite virile. Occasionally promiscuous. Not Sardelle. She was disappointingly chaste before meeting her soul snozzle. Now, she’s making up for the celibate years. It seems repetitive to me, but they don’t enjoy interruptions. Or suggestions. Or comments on form. It doesn’t leave me with a lot to do while they’re rutting like bonobos.

Tolemek’s grimace deepened.
I… don’t want to have these images in my head.

No? For a freewheeling pirate, you’re a bit of a stodgy stick, Tolemek.

Yes, I am
. It occurred to him that Jaxi might be talking to him now out of boredom due to… an occupied handler.

You’re a smart boy, aren’t you? You’re about to have visitors, so I’ll let you get on with that.

What?

Several dark figures stepped out of the alley beside the Tethered Tentacle. They were all armed and wore a scruffy assortment of stolen gewgaws, flamboyant hats, and tacky jewelry. Two of the men gripped pistols in their hands, and they were all facing him.

“Evening, Deathmaker,” one with a gravelly voice rumbled, tipping a hat with a brim wide enough that parrots could have nested on it.

“What do you want?” Tolemek asked, turning his torso away from the nearest streetlight and slipping a hand into his vest. He slid out one of his smoke grenades, as well as something more potent that would knock the men unconscious if they inhaled enough fumes. “And who are you?”

“Captain Moravian,” the man drawled. “And crew. Part of it, anyhow.”

The name was vaguely familiar, an Iskandian buccaneer if Tolemek recalled correctly. He had a sailing ship rather than an air-worthy craft, and the Roaming Curse hadn’t encountered him before.

“We were just out for a stroll,” the captain said, “and saw that you were out for a stroll too. On an island not many airship pirates have occasion to visit.”

“Not many people at all have occasion to visit,” one of his followers said with a snicker.

“I’m retired,” Tolemek said bluntly, thumbing the pull-tab on the smoke grenade, debating whether he should throw it and run into the building. But nobody had raised a pistol yet. Maybe he could get some information from the pirates.

“Heard that. That you up and killed Captain Slaughter but didn’t bother to take his ship. Funny, that.”

“The Iskandians had blasted the ship full of holes.”

“Ships can be fixed. Crews acquired. Unless you had something more lucrative waiting for you somewhere…”

“Like here,” the snickerer said with another laugh.

“Here?” Tolemek asked. What in all the levels of hell could be lucrative here? They couldn’t know about the dragon blood, could they?

“Whilst we were out strolling, we noticed you ambling into yon lodgings.” The captain jerked a thumb at the building behind him. “And we noticed the treasure hunter ambling at your side.”

“The treasure hunter?” Tolemek asked.

“Old Man Zirkander.”

Huh, Tolemek hadn’t realized Colonel Zirkander’s father had a reputation independent of his son’s. Moe would probably be upset to hear himself labeled as “Old Man” instead of Rock Cheetah. Did these pirates even know
Colonel
Zirkander was here?

“Man’s known to have found some baubles in his time,” Moravian said. “And to have mapped and researched a whole lot of wild lands. He’s written about a lot of treasures, too, sharing information about those he wasn’t interested in hunting for, on account of them being in territories unfriendly to Iskandians.”

“I had no idea you had such an interest in treasures. How long have you been here, Moravian? You seen the Cofah ships coming and going?”

“All pirates are interested in treasures. In money. Keeps a crew fed and a man in baubles and women,” Moravian said, ignoring his other questions. “My first ship came by way of snooping around in a forgotten cove that pirates from the olden days once used. Pays to read up on treasures, you know.”

“I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I’m not here to hunt treasures. I’m looking for someone.” Tolemek thought about asking after Tylie, but decided he didn’t want to risk letting these people know he was hunting for kin. They might find a way to use that against him. “An old enemy,” he tacked on.

“Of course you are, Deathmaker. We believe you.”

More snickers came, this time from the whole group. They didn’t seem interested in anything but treasure. Just as well.

“I believe this conversation is over,” Tolemek said. “Unless you fellows want to buy me a drink, I’m going to bed.” He took a step forward, watching them, testing them to see if they would let him pass.

The captain glanced down at Tolemek’s hand. The shadows should hide the grenade, but maybe Moravian knew his reputation well enough to know he would have something ready. He tipped his big hat again, then stepped back into the shadows.

Tolemek walked past the group. When he reached the door, he glanced back. The pirates had disappeared. Tolemek hoped that would be the last he saw of them, but he wouldn’t bet on it.

Chapter 5

The raft shuddered and wobbled, stones scraping the bottoms of the logs as the four porters steered it into the center of the river, pushing off the rocky bottom with long poles. Even the middle of the waterway scarcely appeared deep enough to accommodate the dubious craft. As far as Cas could tell, nothing except vines held it together, and more than a few boulders protruded from the shallow water.

“They promised we could go ten miles upstream this way,” Zirkander said, perhaps noticing her doubtful expression. He stood near the front, holding a pole of his own. He had already been called upon to use it, pushing the raft away from one of those sharp boulders. “And as slow as we’re going, it’s apparently even slower to travel on foot. Roads are non-existent on the island, and none of the trails stray far from the coast. The city doesn’t like to encourage the cannibals to visit, it seems.”