Patterns in the Dark (Dragon Blood Book 4) (5 page)

The attack from above didn’t abate. If anything, the noise was louder in here, with the green canopy of leaves blocking out the sky and bouncing sound back down to them.

A shaggy brown beast leaped down from above and landed on the trail ahead of them.

Zirkander cursed and grabbed Cas by the shoulder. The ape towered ten times the size of a monkey—bigger than any of them, as well—and it clenched one of those head-sized rocks in its massive grip. Cas fired at the same time as it threw. Her shot took the ape in the chest, but the boulder arced straight at
her
chest. She tried to dodge to the side, but was pulled down by one of the men.

“Look out,” she said, as if that wasn’t the most useless warning in the world—but she didn’t want to be pulled to safety only to have one of them be hit.

Zirkander leaped past her, with his pistol in his hand. Even though she had struck the ape in the chest, the creature hadn’t fallen. It was shrieking, its arms flailing at the trees, as if to call down more attackers. Zirkander shot it twice in the head, then plowed in, his utility knife in hand.

Tolemek had been the one to tug Cas out of the rock’s path, and he rolled off her, letting her up. She gave him a quick, one-armed hug, her rifle still in the other hand.

“On second thought, maybe I’ll let the colonel go first,” she said.

Zirkander had driven the ape away. It was staggering into the undergrowth and didn’t look like it would make it far.

“What?” Tolemek yelled.

Cas shook her head and started up the trail again. They couldn’t hear each other above all the noise. This was madness. She kept her eyes toward the branches above them, hoping to catch the next interloper before it landed on the trail, ready to hurl something at them. She never would have thought she would be shooting at animals in self-defense, Duck’s stories of hungry mountain lions notwithstanding. She could only assume the shaman in the village had something to do with this.

The trail brightened ahead, the sun’s rays slanting through the trees. They burst out of the jungle, splashing into the mud of the harvested field and nearly running into the backs of the others.

Cas stepped around them, trying to see why they had stopped. Her mouth fell open. What had Sardelle said before? That a burning brand had been thrown on one of the fliers? All three of the aircraft were in flames, huge individual bonfires with smoke pouring into the sky. Dozens of men with spears stood around the pyres, their backs to the heat as they faced Cas and the others. The shaman was there, his head lifted, and his eyes cold as he glowered in their direction.

“Sir?” Duck asked, his own pistol out, but his face full of alarm. Cas barely heard the word, but she knew what he was asking. What were they supposed to do
now
?

A rock slammed into Sardelle’s barrier and bounced off. The attack was still coming from the jungle, but she seemed able to deflect it—for now. But what about the fliers? Would the fire damage them beyond repair? The hulls were metal, not wood, but there were certainly parts that could burn. The villagers must have smothered them with wood and pitch or the island’s equivalent.

Cas stepped forward grimly. She had four more shots in her rifle and two boxes of ammo in her utility belt. She hated the idea of wantonly killing natives who just wanted to get rid of the threat to their people, but if they succeeded in destroying the fliers, the group would be stuck here. And Cas was
not
going to lose another flier. She had already crashed one in her young career.

“Jaxi, no,” Sardelle barked. Cas wouldn’t have heard the words at all, but had been stepping past her when she’d called out. Sardelle’s gaze shifted back toward the village, concern in her eyes.

Though Cas was reluctant to look away from the natives—a few of them were stalking toward the group now, their spears raised to their shoulders—she risked a glance. And then a second glance, as her mouth tumbled open again.

Huge plumes of black smoke rose from the village. At least ten of the thatched roofs were on fire, great orange flames that leaped even higher than those on the fliers.

The villagers halted their shouts, and a stunned silence fell over the field. Even the yammering in the jungle stopped. Then a woman screamed in the village. The men who had been stalking toward Zirkander and the others turned and cut across the field toward the smoking huts instead. The shaman glared his hatred at Sardelle, but he ran in that direction, as well.

When it was clear they wouldn’t threaten the group further, Cas lowered her rifle. Zirkander was already charging through the mud, toward the fliers. Cas chased after him, though she wondered how they would put out the fires and how much damage had been done. What if it was already too late?

But, by the time they had splashed across the field and to the closest fire, the flames on it had faded. All of the fires dwindled. Cas looked back toward Sardelle as she lowered her hand. She wiped her brow then walked across the field to join them. Moe was looking back at her, too, his mouth open, a perplexed expression on his face.

“About not revealing her occupation in the first two minutes he’s known her,” Tolemek said, “is it all right after the first
twenty
minutes?”

Zirkander rubbed his head. “I’m not sure.”

“It doesn’t look that bad, sir,” Duck called from the top of his flier. He knocked a few charred brands off the hull. “In fact, I don’t see any damage to the exterior at all.”

“I think we have Sardelle to thank for that.” Zirkander nodded to her.

She was striding toward them, mud spattering her leathers, her face grim as the smoke from the village rose behind her. Cas wouldn’t have wanted to be the native who got in her way. She shouldered her rifle and jogged to her own flier. She didn’t know how much time they had before the villagers put their fire out and returned their attention to them, but she assumed leaving sooner rather than later would be good. Tolemek was already up there, scooping charred wood out of the cockpit and cursing, shaking his hands after touching the still-smoking embers.

Moe stopped before reaching the fliers. “I’m not sure how I’m going to return to my work after all of this—” he pursed his lips and frowned at Sardelle and at the village, “—but I shall wish you luck and take my leave of you now, son.”

“Dad, it’s not going to be safe for you to stay.”

“Of that, I’m certain. I’ll make my way across the island and catch that boat in a couple of weeks.”

“It would be better if you came with us now.”

“In that benighted contraption?” Moe pointed at the dragon snout painted on the nose of Zirkander’s flier. “I think not.”

Zirkander looked to Tolemek and tilted his head toward his father. Asking if he had anything to knock out Moe? The way he had that obnoxious Colonel Therrik? Even if Tolemek did have another pill, Cas doubted they could trick Moe into munching on it at the foot of a flier. Tolemek shook his head. Cas pulled herself into the cockpit, but she didn’t miss the long look Zirkander gave Sardelle. Once again, she had that creepy feeling that they were talking to each other in their minds.

Cas decided to worry about getting her own flier airworthy, rather than what was going on down there. But she wasn’t surprised a moment later when Moe collapsed, and Zirkander caught him in his arms.

“Duck, give me a hand, will you?” he asked.

“Uh, sure, sir.” Duck jumped down from the other flier. “Is he sick? What happened?”

“He’s napping. Let’s put him in your—no, better make it my flier. He’s going to wake up hotter than a flagpole under the summer sun.”

Duck scratched his head. “Napping, sir?”

“Yeah, he’s old. Old people nap. Here, take his arm.”

Sardelle wiped her brow again. They were all sweaty after the sprint through the jungle, but her shoulders had more of a slump to them. Cas had no idea how much magic a sorceress could do, but she looked like she was the one who needed a nap.

“Took care of most of the mess in here,” Tolemek said from the back seat of their flier.

Cas nodded, watching Sardelle as she said a word to Zirkander, then headed to Duck’s flier.

“I would be disturbed that she can make people fall asleep out of nowhere,” Cas said, “but I guess you can do the same thing, so I would have to be disturbed by your potion-making skills too.”

“You aren’t?”

“Not… as much as I was.”

Cas sat in the cockpit and, after checking to make sure no villagers were running back toward them, fastened her rifle into its special rack. Smoke and flames still danced on the thatch roofs, but she didn’t hear any screams of pain. That was good. The people were running buckets of sea water up from the beach. Even though they had been troublesome, she hoped their village wouldn’t be too badly damaged.

“You know it’s mostly an illusion, right?” Tolemek asked.

“What?”

“The shaman’s hut is really burning—I think Jaxi did that. But the rest is an illusion, to distract them.”

“Oh. How can you tell?”

Tolemek grimaced. “Don’t ask. I still can’t believe that all my life I had no idea that I had… strange talents. Or sense. Something. But I wasn’t surrounded by magic users, either. Just my untrained sister.” He rubbed his face. “I wish I’d gotten her out of that place earlier.”

“I thought you did and that you determined you couldn’t help her.”

“I did. But I still… I was running around, trying to find a solution for her from a distance, when I should have been keeping an eye on her. I had no idea the emperor… What could the government possibly want with her? Did she lead them to the dragon somehow?
Is
there even a dragon?” Tolemek slumped back against his seat.

“We’ll find her,” Cas said, switching on the flier, feeling the hum of the propeller.

“Ahn?” Zirkander asked.

She gave him the ready sign. It was time to find Tolemek’s sister and the source of the dragon blood.

Chapter 3

The salty sea air whipped at Tolemek’s hair as he leaned out of his seat to peer at lights in the darkness ahead of and below them. The torches and lanterns of a city? He wasn’t familiar with this part of the world, where hundreds, if not thousands of chains of islands dotted the ocean. Airship pirates rarely stopped in the area, both because of the dearth of dirigible ports he had mentioned and because there wasn’t a financial incentive to visit. With few people, fewer towns, and even fewer shipping lanes, neither the islands nor the seas around them saw much wealth passing through. He had also heard that hurricanes often afflicted the area, though tonight, the sea and the sky were serene, without a cloud blotting out the burgeoning stars.

If this was their destination, they should descend soon, but Zirkander’s voice hadn’t sounded over the communication crystal yet. Tolemek checked on the other fliers, the faint glow of the control crystals lighting the back seats and cockpits. He couldn’t see much of Duck, but Sardelle was slumped down in her seat, dozing after expending all the energy their escape had required. Moe had woken an hour or two ago. Judging about the amount of over-the-shoulder gesticulating that had been going on throughout the flight, father and son were having a long conversation. Moe pointed toward Sardelle more than once. Tolemek didn’t know if it was because he had figured out she was responsible for knocking him unconscious or if it was simply because of her… occupation, as Zirkander had called it.

Moe might not be thrilled by the revelation that the group had a sorceress in their midst, but Tolemek admitted a selfish sense of relief at her presence. It took the onus off him. Moe Zirkander might be distracted from the mundane world by his own research, but Tolemek was certain
every
Iskandian had heard of the Tanglewood massacre. Were his involvement to come to light, Moe might object to helping the perpetrator of that incident hunt for a sibling. Tolemek hoped he had enough information to go on already and that he wouldn’t need the help of either senior or junior Zirkander again.

“We’ll most likely have to land on the beach near that town,” came Zirkander’s voice from the crystal in the cockpit, just audible over the wind, “but the moon is coming up, so let’s fly around the island and see if there are any clearings closer to the mountain.”

“We could use some fresh supplies, sir,” Cas said.

“I know, but it sounds like a hellish trek through the interior to the mountain. Days on foot, hacking at foliage and vines to make a path. If there’s a chance that we can set down right at its base, or even on some plateau, we would save ourselves a lot of trouble.”

Tolemek leaned forward, touching Cas’s shoulder to warn her he was about to shout. “Your father is positive those flowers only grow above a certain elevation?”

After a pause, Zirkander said, “Yes.”

“I agree then. Setting down as close to the mountain as possible would be ideal,
if
this is the right island. It might be wise to ask around in that city and try to verify that it is. Find out if Cofah soldiers have been seen passing through with interesting crates.” Maybe someone had even seen his sister.

Duck cleared his throat. “The colonel’s lady friend would like a bath and requests a stop in the city for the night.”

Zirkander sighed. “I knew it.”

“That people want to bathe, sir?”

“That this would turn into a democracy as soon as the civilians outnumbered the soldiers.”

“We’re three and three, aren’t we, sir?” Cas asked.

“I’m told my dad counts as two people because he’s older than the rest of us combined.”

Tolemek wasn’t surprised when Zirkander got smacked in the back of the head, though it didn’t seem that heartfelt.

“Maybe just than you four combined,” Zirkander amended. “Regardless, let’s check out the island before heading to the city. I see a few fields down there. This is supposed to be a slightly more civilized town than the last one, pirate-infested or not. But let’s pick a spot farther away this time.”

As the conversation finished, the lights of the town passed below them, and a dark landscape replaced the dark ocean. The moon had risen, but Tolemek didn’t see much on the ground, except for the dense black canopy blanketing everything. If rivers or other major terrain features parted the curtain of foliage anywhere, he couldn’t pick them out. The extinct volcano rose up from the center of the island, but it was coated with the same thick foliage as the rest of the place.