Authors: Lindsay Buroker
Tags: #romance, #paranormal romance, #fantasy, #science fiction, #steampunk, #epic fantasy, #fantasy romance, #fantasy adventure, #sf, #science fiction romance, #high fantasy, #science fantasy, #traditional fantasy, #science fantasy romance, #steampunk romance
Rias bent his head and kissed her gently,
warm lips as welcome as the sun in this frozen wasteland.
Forgetting about her injury, she started to wrap her arms around
him, to pull him closer. Pain blasted her shoulder, and she gasped
at the cruel reminder.
Rias drew back, wincing, eyes guilty.
“Sorry, my fault. I’ll go find the sawbones.”
“
No, it’s all right. I was
just...”
But he had already grabbed his rifle. He
hopped through the broken wall with a quick wave before
disappearing into the snow.
Tikaya wrapped her arms around herself. She
already missed his warmth. And his last words sent a thrum of worry
through her. The man who would come to deliver her medical
attention was the brother of the man she had just killed.
CHAPTER 10
Something bumped Tikaya’s foot, jerking her
awake. She sat up and cracked her head on the bottom of the device.
Her shoulder offered its own jab of pain as her journal and pencil
clattered to the floor.
Bocrest and Bones loomed over her. The
captain’s presence surprised her. Surely the ship’s commander
usually stayed with his vessel, but then this was no ordinary
inland excursion.
Thuds from the ceiling announced someone
walking around in the crawl space. Probably retrieving bodies.
Beleaguered red eyes haunted the sawbones’s
stubbled face, and an invisible weight slumped his shoulders. He
must already know his brother was dead, but he could not know she
had fired the fatal shot. She hoped. He carried a black leather
bag, and she swallowed, wondering if he truly kept a saw in
there.
“
Get up, librarian.”
Bocrest eyed the device. “Bones has a lot of men to
tend.”
After the battering she had taken, Tikaya
expected more pains as she crawled to her feet, but she had not
slept long enough for her body to stiffen. Only the shoulder
throbbed. Darkness still smothered the snow outside. Given the icy
temperature and the hard tile floor, she was surprised she had
slept at all. She had painstakingly copied the two hundred
alchemical elements into the journal and had been sketching the
runes on the bottom of the device when she nodded off.
“
Did Agarik make it?”
Tikaya asked.
Bocrest prowled around the device, started
to touch an indentation, but decided against it. “He got jumped
by—it doesn’t matter who by now—but he was cut up pretty bad and
left to bleed in the snow. Bones stitched him up earlier.”
Relief and regret mingled in her mind. If
she had not asked Agarik to fetch Rias, he might not have been hurt
at all. Would he resent her for it?
“
Where’s Rias?” she
asked.
Bocrest scowled.
“Prisoner
Five
is
making some concoction in the vehicle house. Said we’ll need it in
the tunnels. After that, he’ll be shackled again.”
“
Let’s see your shoulder,”
Bones told Tikaya.
She eased her parka off under the cool gazes
of the two officers. She was surely too old to want someone to hold
her hand while a doctor worked on her, but she wished Rias had come
back. Strange that he had disappeared so abruptly. Had he felt
guilty about more than her shoulder?
Bones huffed and tossed her parka aside.
Apparently impatient with her undressing speed, he unfastened the
buttons of the black uniform jacket for her. Uneasy, she wondered
how much disrobing she would have to endure for this medical
treatment. Fortunately, Bones left her undershirt on. Icy but
professional hands probed her shoulder. She tried not to wince.
Bocrest nodded at the device. “You figure
out what this stuff says?”
“
Some of it,” Tikaya said.
“I can only guess at the writing on the bottom, but the context
gives me clues. If I get more samples, also in context, I’ll be
able to make some good guesses.”
Bocrest’s grunt did not
sound impressed. Curse him, she and Rias had saved the
marines—
again
.
Why couldn’t the captain acknowledge her usefulness?
Footsteps sounded above, and shards of wood
rained from the biggest hole in the roof. Sergeant Ottotark
slithered over the edge and dropped down behind Bones.
Tikaya groaned, but he did not look at
her.
“
Sorry, Bones. Your
brother and Private Choyka are dead.” Ottotark gripped the man’s
shoulder.
Bones’s jaw clenched, but he did not
otherwise react.
“
I’ll get a team to lower
them down for the funeral pyre.” Ottotark nodded to the captain and
left.
Tikaya relaxed a smidgeon. Bones made a
sling from a large square of cloth and secured her arm.
“
You’ll be fine in a few
days,” he said. “Sir, I’ll attend the others if you don’t need
anything else here. I’d prefer to keep busy.”
“
Yes, go,” Bocrest
said.
Bones left, head down, shoulders slumped
further.
“
What’s the purpose of
this device?” Bocrest asked.
Tikaya rubbed her shoulder. “My best guess?
Scientific experiments. They probably wanted to observe the somatic
and neurological effects certain gases had on their specimens
outside of a controlled environment.”
“
What kind of specimens?”
Bocrest asked.
“
Look in a
mirror.”
“
Turgonians?”
Tikaya hesitated, almost tempted to play
upon his paranoia. She had not yet figured out how she could ensure
her family’s safety while escaping with her life, but she would
probably have more opportunities later if she convinced Bocrest her
words were trustworthy now.
“
Humans, animals.” A cold
gust blew snow through the broken wall, and Tikaya grabbed her
parka. “I suppose Turgonian enemies could have brought it here and
turned it on.” She thought of the Nurian captain’s orders; the
Nurians were smart enough to not want anything to do with the
artifacts. “Or your own people might have done it out of
stupidity.”
Bocrest’s gaze grew frosty.
“
Stupidity isn’t a trait
unique to Turgonians,” Tikaya said by way of apology.
“
Apparently not.” Bocrest
continued to glare. “Prisoner Five says Lieutenant Commander Okars
attacked him, and he was forced to kill my officer in
self-defense.”
Unease trickled down her spine. Uh oh. Why
had Rias said anything? Maybe the marines never would have thought
to look for bodies in the attic, and, even if they did, in the
craziness anyone could have fired at anyone. Rias could have
feigned ignorance and no one would have known. But, no, he had felt
guilty—or honor-bound—to explain the dead officer. She could not
fault him for being an honest man, but his loyalty to these
marines, to the empire, might prove disastrous for her. Or maybe
not. He had covered for her, though she was not sure whether to be
relieved or not. Surely his position here was as precarious as
hers.
“
I know who he is,”
Bocrest said, “who he
was
, and now that he’s...himself
again, I doubt he’d intentionally kill an imperial marine, nor do I
believe he’s inept enough to accidentally dispatch someone in
self-defense.”
“
We were all under the
influence of that device,” Tikaya said. “Rias—”
Bocrest drew his arm back,
and she turned her cheek, expecting a blow. He curled his fingers
into a fist, but jerked it to his side. A vein at his temple
pulsed. “I don’t know what he’s told you, but you will
not
refer to him as
anything other than Prisoner Five. He lost his right to a name, and
I don’t want my men conflicted on who to follow out
here.”
“
What did he do?” Tikaya
whispered. And who is he, she almost added. But for the ill timing
of that blasting stick, she might know by now. Someone who was
Bocrest’s equal, or maybe even a superior? Was Rias old enough to
be an admiral?
Bocrest stepped back, and his eyes widened.
“You don’t know?”
She shook her head.
“
Cruel ancestors, what a
waste. He gave up everything, and your people don’t even
know.”
“
What?” She reached for
his arm. “Please, tell me.”
Bocrest scoffed and turned away. He grabbed
the rifle and knife, making sure not to leave her any weapons.
“Self-absorbed scientists,” he muttered on his way out.
Tikaya dropped her arm. She thought back to
the first conversation she had with Rias, when he asked if her
president was still alive. Was that what Bocrest referred to? Had
Rias done something for her people during the war, something that
had turned the Turgonians against him? If that was the case, why
hadn’t he told her right away? If he had done a good deed for
Kyatt, he might be allowed to come live on her island, and maybe
he’d be someone her family could like, and...
She groaned and rubbed her face. When had he
stopped being the enemy soldier and turned into someone she wanted
to bring home to meet her parents?
* * * * *
Weariness plagued Tikaya’s limbs as she
marched after the squad of marines, her arm in the sling, her
crampons replaced with snowshoes. The new footwear was almost as
awkward to walk in as swim fins, and she struggled to keep up—and
upright. There had been no rest after the funeral pyre. They
traveled east, in the shadows of jagged white mountains that
dominated the southern horizon. To the north, the flat icy tundra
stretched until it blended into the pale blue sky.
Forty men remained, with fifteen dead back
in Wolfhump, and many carried double loads. Dogs, too, had been
lost and the teams pulling the sleds slouched along, as tired as
she. A sergeant marched alongside the squad, singing a cadence that
condoned plundering farm goods and stealing daughters from
conquered nations. Or maybe it was stealing farm goods and
plundering daughters. Tikaya tried to ignore the words, though she
found her steps matching the encouraging refrains of left, right,
left.
For the fortieth or fiftieth time, she
glanced behind. Wrists shackled again, Rias walked with a small
team tasked with carrying the boxes of blasting sticks. A
precautionary couple dozen meter gap lay between them and the main
group, though, oddly, the captain walked at his side. She did not
know what they spoke of, though his presence served as a deterrent
to keep her from strolling back to walk with Rias. She had not seen
Agarik since the day before, but his injuries must not be too
severe, for he was ahead with the scouting team. Separate from the
marines, separate from her two allies, she felt the loneliness and
oppressive cold of the tundra. She was tempted to go back to walk
with Rias even if it meant enduring the captain’s sarcasm.
A dead arctic jaeger alongside the trail
diverted her thoughts. The large bird’s white-tipped wings were
broken, its head smashed in, but no predators had sampled its
flesh. Had it simply fallen from the sky? Two sets of snowshoe
prints around it meant the scouts had stopped to look.
Long years had passed since her biology
classes, so she left it without further examination, but she turned
her attention to her surroundings as she continued on. Over the
next few miles, she spotted other downed birds, all undisturbed by
predators. An uneasy feeling shrouded her, and she wondered what
would await them at the fort. More dead men? Another device?
“
Prisoner Five, come back
here!” Bocrest shouted.
Rias had set down his box of blasting
sticks, and he churned across the tundra. Bocrest plowed after him,
rifle in hand.
“
Sir?” one of the marines
in front of Tikaya called. “Do you need help?”
Bocrest waved, and the back two men stamped
out of formation, flinging snow as they raced into the drifts with
high-kneed steps. Tikaya veered after them, afraid they would think
Rias was trying to escape and take violent measures—as if Rias
would be dumb enough to run away with everyone watching.
Unfortunately, her slog through the unbroken snow was less
effective than theirs. Even with the snowshoes, she sank deep with
each step, and she tripped twice before reaching the gathering.
Rias stopped, knelt, and picked up
something. Bocrest and the others scrambled over, and Tikaya
floundered up in time to hear the red-faced, scowling Bocrest
speak.
“
What are you doing, Five?
Are you trying to get yourself shot? Prisoners don’t get to take
unannounced side trips.”
Rias lifted his goggles to peer at his
find.
“
What is it?” Tikaya
asked.
She attempted to slip past the other marines
to join him, but one of them took a step at the same time and
landed on the edge of her snowshoe. She sprawled, face heading
toward the powder. Rias lunged, caught her, and even managed to
keep from jarring her shoulder.
“
Slagging librarians,”
Bocrest grumbled.
Face red from more than
the cold, Tikaya got her snowshoes beneath her. “Thank you. It
seems I’m always tumbling into your arms.” She sighed, appreciative
but a little envious too. Neither shackles nor snowshoes
made
him
ungainly.
“
I don’t mind,” Rias said.
“Makes me feel useful.”
Bocrest snorted. “Any excuse to grab a
tit.”
The two marines sniggered, and Tikaya
stepped out of Rias’s arms, her cheeks warm. Rias merely shook his
head at Bocrest, like a father disappointed in a wayward child.
Bocrest scowled. “What did you find,
Five?”