Blood Charged Read online

  “I gave you my word I would help when you saved the city.”

  “I know, but you were desperate. And keeping your word to an enemy, that’s not something most people would bother with, especially someone…” Tolemek extended a hand toward her.

  “I’m not supposed to keep my word because I’m a sorceress?”

  “It’s not as if there would be repercussions that could affect you if you didn’t.”

  “That’s when integrity matters most, isn’t it?” Sardelle frowned, disturbed that he thought so little of her, or maybe it was of sorcerers in general. Had she done something to give him a poor impression of her? She knew people sometimes mistook her quiet reserve for aloofness or indifference, but she didn’t feel that way.

  “I’m not fit to judge a person’s integrity,” he said dryly.

  Ah, maybe that was what lay behind his reasoning—his own mistakes in the past. He didn’t believe he was worthy of someone’s word?

  “It was the magic affecting her,” Tolemek said. “I’m certain of it. I tested her in every manner I knew how, and I couldn’t find a mundane explanation for her change.”

  “The mind is a complicated organ. Science may have advanced a great deal in the last few hundred years, but I think it’ll be a few hundred more before the brain is completely understood.”

  Tolemek shifted to avoid a restless cow with the ability to crush his foot with one misstep.

  “When did she change?” Sardelle asked. “She was normal growing up?”

  “A little quirky, but mostly normal, yes.”

  She wagered that his family would have described him as a quirky kid too.

  “It was after our older brother died, and after I gave up on my dream and entered the military to appease my father. I came back on leave when I was… twenty-one, or so, I guess. We’re twelve years apart, so she was nine then. She remembered me, but she also kept talking to herself when nobody was around. Sometimes she seemed to be talking to someone else. She displayed a few powers, being able to knock things over with her mind when she was angry, and my parents grew afraid. My mother was afraid for her, but my father was more afraid of what the neighbors would think.”

  “He sounds like a lovely man.” Sardelle wondered if Tolemek and Ahn had shared stories of their fathers with each other. Maybe that had facilitated their unlikely relationship.

  A steam whistle screeched. The car shuddered as the engine slowed down.

  “We should get out before it comes to a full stop. We’ll be less likely to be spotted that way.” Tolemek eyed the sliding door on the side of the car. Five or six tightly packed cows stood between him and it. Odd that a scientist who had concocted countless clever potions and devices should seem daunted by animals. Granted, they were large and did tend to give a person flat, unfriendly stares.

  Sardelle gave them gentle nudges with her mind, and they shifted aside to let her pass. Tolemek followed in her wake.

  She slid the door open, revealing warehouses and factories in the bowl of the valley with houses dotting the hillsides. Night lingered, and lanterns burned all over the city, but people were already walking and riding in the streets. There weren’t any lights in the cargo car, and she doubted anyone would notice the open door. As soon as the train slowed to a speed where they could jump out without breaking any bones, Tolemek hopped into the gravel lining the tracks. Sardelle jumped after him and, with a flick of her mind, closed the door behind her, so the cattle would stay put. She had no sooner landed than a voice rang out above the chugging of the train.

  “Stowaways!”

  A deep-voiced dog bayed a cry that must have meant something similar.

  “Run,” Tolemek urged, sprinting through the gravel and toward a chain-link fence with barbed wire lining the top. These Cofah were serious about keeping their cattle from escaping.

  Tolemek, being taller and more athletic than she, sprang to the top of the fence and leaped over, scarcely impeded by the barbed wire. As Sardelle reached the bottom and was about to climb after him, the first shots fired. A bullet skipped off the gravel, inches from her heels.

  “The hells with climbing,” she muttered and flung out a hand, slicing through the chain with her mind. She raised a barrier about herself in case another bullet came while she was pushing through.

  But the next shot came from three feet away: Tolemek firing toward the guard charging down the gravel path toward them. He didn’t hit the man—the bullet clanged off the side of the moving train rolling past a couple of feet away. The guard faltered, probably realizing he wasn’t dealing with a couple of unarmed kids.

  Sardelle had time to squeeze through the fence and sprint into an alley. Tolemek was waiting for her at the mouth, but he took off as soon as she joined him. She pushed herself to match his long legs and keep up with him.

  “Was that because he spotted my pale skin, or do all stowaways get shot on sight here?” Sardelle asked.

  “Dodging the fare is a crime. He was probably shooting to scare, but I couldn’t be sure.”

  They ran three blocks before Tolemek turned onto a broad residential street lined with gas lamps. No, those were kerosene lamps, Sardelle realized. Maybe gas lighting wasn’t as common here yet as it was in the cities of Iskandia.

  A donkey-drawn wagon rolled past in front of them, and Tolemek slowed to a walk. He slipped his pistol into its holster and covered it with his coat.

  “Lieutenant Ahn will be disappointed in you,” Sardelle said, catching her breath.

  “Because I shot at someone with her gun? I think that’s why she gave it to me.”

  “Because you missed.”

  “Oh. That was intentional. I would prefer not to leave piles of bodies behind on this quest. My sister was always a gentle soul, despite the moments of craziness where she occasionally hurt people. She wouldn’t approve of me using violence to get her out.”

  “Good.” Even if Sardelle had always considered the Cofah enemies, it was their military and government she had a problem with, not the average subject. “I do appreciate you watching out for me.” She kept her voice low, since there were people out in the street, and they would doubtlessly find it odd to hear an Iskandian accent in their town. She had pulled up the hood of her cloak, as well, and wore gloves to hide her pale hands.

  Tolemek gave her a sidelong look. “I suspect you would have been fine without my help. I… sensed you doing something.” His voice had taken on an odd note.

  She had given him a few lessons on developing his power at Ridge’s cabin in the woods, but Tolemek had yet to grow accustomed to using his talents or truly comfortable with the idea that he might have talents. Non-mundane ones, anyway.

  “Cutting through the fence and erecting an invisible barrier around myself to protect against projectiles,” she said. “And pokey fence pieces.”

  Tolemek snorted and raised his own hand. It was too dark to make out details, but there was a dark smudge on his palm? Blood? Maybe he hadn’t cleared that barbed wire as easily as it had seemed.

  “The sanitarium is on the hill up there.” He pointed toward the end of the residential area and to a gray stone building perched on the ridge. Two dark towers rose like gargoyles, scowling down into the valley.

  “That looks more like a prison than a hospital.”

  “Now you know why I hated the idea of my sister being sent there.” Thoughts of his father arose in his head again, of a violent fight that had involved blows.

  Sardelle turned her focus elsewhere, toward the people they passed. She needed to know if any of them found these two strangers odd. It wasn’t a small town, but Mason Valley lacked the anonymity of a metropolis. Most were worried about getting to work rather than watching for strangers.

  They climbed a dirt road that ran up the slope in switchbacks. In the town, the snow had been cleared from the streets, but out here, the only bare spots were muddy ruts cut by wagons. Sardelle eyed the towers. She didn’t sense anyone in them, but asked the question th
at came to mind, nonetheless.

  “Will anybody be on guard and watching our approach?”

  “I doubt it. It used to be a castle, and there are spots for guards, but I’ve never seen anyone up there. There are guards who walk the halls inside however. There’s more danger of the patients trying to escape than anyone breaking in.”

  Instead of continuing to the front gate, Tolemek veered off the road and into the snow. He walked along the thick gray building toward the first corner. A few windows dotted the walls, but they were more like arrow slits than anything designed to allow in light and air. Sardelle couldn’t imagine the rooms—cells?—inside were comfortable, and a quiet rage began to grow in her breast for this girl who had been imprisoned here because her father had been worried about what the neighbors might think of her unexplained outbursts.

  Not as bad as being chained up with rocks and hurled into a lake to drown. Jaxi’s voice sounded more faintly in her head than usual—the train had taken them over a hundred and fifty miles, on top of the ten they had ridden before arriving in a town with a station.

  I’m not so sure about that. Sardelle eyed the drab building as Tolemek led her around another corner. How is Ridge?

  Pining in your absence.

  Sardelle snorted. I meant how is the camp? No trouble since they moved the fliers?

  Your virile lover has woken his troops to perform physical exercises. When you return, his chest will be as hard and muscular as ever. You would be a fool not to come back to him.

  So in summary, your answer is, no, there’s no trouble at camp.

  Correct. In my spare time, I have been reading your pilfered library book.

  That book was borrowed. Sardelle followed Tolemek around yet another tower, and he pointed at what must be the kitchen door he had mentioned. She had better end this conversation so she could concentrate.

  Yes, much like Lieutenant Duck’s horses. Strange how the definitions of words have changed over the centuries. I believe I’ve selected three possible organizations that might be troubling you.

  Oh?

  The Alabaster Motherhood has been watching out for soldiers for several hundred years. Perhaps some wizened mother or grandmother is irritated by your influence on Ridge.

  Sardelle thought of the officer next door and his nosy grandmother. It was hard to imagine that woman as more than an innocent gossip. And the other two?

  Tolemek stopped in front of the door and slipped a vial out of his bag, unfastening an eye-dropper lid.

  The Heartwood Sisterhood was founded over a millennium ago to protect innocent young men from the nefarious advances of female dragons.

  Oh, please. As if that was ever a big problem.

  Tolemek dabbed something into the door lock. Smoke wafted out. Sardelle could have simply opened the lock, but Jaxi had her distracted. Always better to empower men than make them feel unneeded anyway, right?

  Apparently a lot of men went on quests, hoping to find dragon lovers and leaving suitable young women back in their villages. A lot of those men found dragons who liked to toast humans like skewers of meat on the fire. This left a lot of eligible women who couldn’t find men to marry. It also left a shortage of men to plant and harvest the crops. Those dragons, such rabble-rousers.

  Jaxi, are you teasing me about this group?

  Not at all. They’re the seventh entry in the book. I’m just summarizing what’s there.

  You mean the part about toasting humans like skewers of meat isn’t actually in the text?

  That’s part of my summary.

  Tolemek turned the knob and eased the door open. He listened, then stepped inside, holding it for Sardelle. Clanks and thuds came from the front of the kitchen, but nothing except counters, oversized stew pots, and iceboxes was visible. He and Sardelle weaved past crates of potatoes, apples, and onions, as Tolemek headed away from the noise and voices up front. He found another door and escaped into the hallway without being noticed—until he turned and smacked into someone who had been about to enter the kitchen.

  “Who—” the man got out before Tolemek rammed his palm into his nose.

  The person flew backward, his shoulder slamming into the wall. Tolemek followed him, producing a rag from somewhere and pressing it to the man’s nose. He flailed, trying to punch Tolemek, but the blows soon grew weak and ineffective. A few seconds later, the man’s eyes rolled back into his head, and he slumped down like a rag doll. Tolemek caught him and removed a key ring Sardelle hadn’t noticed from the man’s waist—there were also a pistol and handcuffs there. Tolemek dragged the inert man down the hall, past three doors, then opened a fourth. A broom closet.

  “I get the feeling you’ve broken into a lot of places in your life,” Sardelle whispered.

  “A few. I’ve also broken in here before.”

  Tolemek handcuffed the guard’s wrist and looked around the closet for something secure to attach him to. Unfortunately, there weren’t any pipes or rods or the like. He settled for chaining the poor fellow to the mop bucket. He waved to acknowledge the uselessness of the choice and said, “He sucked in enough of my inhalant that he should be unconscious for the next half hour.”

  Sardelle jammed the locking mechanism after they shut the door and walked away. It might buy them a little more time. Just in case collecting the sister wasn’t a matter of a simple in-and-out. “You haven’t told me your sister’s name,” she realized as they climbed stairs to the second level.

  “Tylie.” He stopped on the landing to listen and look in both directions. The slender windows on either end did not let in much light. A few oil lamps guttered on the walls, soot staining the old stone above each one. Only every third was lit. The rooms were close together up here, with unadorned solid oak doors every few feet. Each had a number hanging on it, but nothing else to identify the occupants.

  By now, people ought to be up and about, doing morning ablutions and lining up for breakfast. Aside from the guard, they hadn’t seen anyone in the halls. Maybe they served breakfast in bed here. Or breakfast locked behind one’s cell door, anyway.

  Tolemek trod softly down the hall, his lock-melting vial of goo in hand. A long-suffering moan came from behind one door, and Sardelle paused and touched her fingers to the wood. With her senses, she could tell the person was a confused forlorn man sitting in a corner, his legs pulled to his chest as he rocked back and forth. His mind seemed disturbed by more than his condition, and she thought some drug or another might account for the hazy thoughts.

  A notion of setting all of these people free strode through her mind. But what good would that do? They wouldn’t be able to escape or fend for themselves, not in this state, and she could scarcely set up a healer’s tent at the base of the hill.

  You can’t help everyone.

  I know. Still, Sardelle wondered if she might do some good in the half hour they had until that guard woke up.

  You better help pirate boy, first. And you haven’t asked me about the third organization that might have been responsible for blowing up the archives basement. It’s even better than the last.

  Does “better” mean more ridiculous sounding?

  You know me well.

  Tolemek stopped at the last door on the right and bent over the lock. Jaxi continued on as Sardelle walked toward him.

  The Davaran Trinity, founded by three witches, swore to keep magic a secret through the centuries, knowing outsiders would fear them. They might be targeting you because you’re openly striding around the city on a soldier’s arm instead of hunkering in a thatched hut in the woods and tossing frog eyes and leeches into cauldrons.

  The Davaran Trinity? Sardelle joined Tolemek in front of the door, where smoke was wafting from the lock. That name sounds familiar.

  Yes, because none of the so-called witches in it had an iota of dragon blood in their veins. They thought they did and made all sorts of potions to inflict evils on people. Crazies like them are part of the reason there are so many unflattering images o
f sorcerers in people’s minds.

  Are you sure these were the most likely organizations in the book and not the least likely?

  They were the only organizations started and made up of women. Only the Davaran Trinity is still rumored to be in existence today, or at least when that book was published. Fifty years ago, according to the creation date.

  Just because we’ve only seen women doesn’t mean they’re not part of an organization that recruits both sexes, Sardelle pointed out.

  Most of the other entities mentioned were brotherhoods or otherwise male-only orders. It seems men and women can’t create secret organizations for clandestine purposes in unison.

  We’ll figure it out later.

  Sardelle touched the door in front of them. “Are you sure this is the right room?”

  “No,” Tolemek said. “This is where she was last time, but it’s been years since my visit—they forbade me to return after the last time, when I broke her out and stole her away to cure her… only to realize that wasn’t within my powers.” He scowled at the door, his fingers curling into a fist.

  “I don’t sense anyone inside.”

  Tolemek nodded, as if he had expected as much. “We’ll have to sneak into the file room and look up her room number.”

  Sardelle wasn’t aware that she made a strange face, but she must have, because he asked, “What?”

  “I have a recent and awkward history with file rooms.” She had been thinking about her attempt to convince Ridge, then Fort Commander Zirkander, that she was a legitimate prisoner in that awful mine, but Tolemek gave her a grave nod.

  “I heard about the explosion in the archives building. If you need research done at a further point, you can ask me, and I’ll do it for you.” His expression grew wry. “My reputation may fade with time, but for now, it’s quite effective at convincing people to leave me alone.”

  The offer surprised Sardelle, but she managed a, “Thank you,” before he pushed open the door.

  It revealed a dark room that smelled of paint, fresh paint. Odd. Had they moved the occupant, then painted the walls for some reason?