05 Dragon Blood: The Blade's Memory Page 2

  Lieutenant Apex, a quieter and more introspective man, walked at Duck’s side. He didn’t say anything about pie, but his expression had grown a touch wistful. Captain Kaika, the last member of their group, walked behind the two of them, the alert set of her face more akin to Cas’s than the men’s. She looked like someone focused more on her mission than on acquiring baked goods. Sardelle wondered what it said about their group that the toughest soldiers seemed to be the women.

  “I can’t make any promises,” Ridge said, as they turned again, heading up a dirt road lined with cozy cottages. “I didn’t write to let her know we were coming, but I wager she’ll put something together.”

  “We spending the night here, sir?” Kaika asked.

  Ridge glanced at the sky—the sun hadn’t been out since they returned to the mainland, but noon had passed, and the gray clouds were darker than they had been when the squadron first landed. “Most likely.”

  “You think it’s safe to leave your fliers back in Crazy Canyon?”

  “I wouldn’t ordinarily, but we camouflaged them well, and the weather is dreary. Shouldn’t be pirates about. They’re too lazy to go out and thieve in the rain.”

  Tolemek, former pirate and current expatriate scientist, must have heard the comment, because he glanced back. He gave Ridge the squinty eye but did not otherwise comment, perhaps because Ridge was waving them up one of the walkways to a quaint one-story cottage. Thanks to the waterlogged countryside, most of the houses seemed on the drab side, but this stucco structure had perky blue window shutters and trim, a front door painted with a mural of a farmer feeding chickens, and numerous bright, floral tiles embedded in the walls. All around the grounds, barrels and tubs had been turned into pots, some with hardy green plants sticking out and others waiting on spring flowers. A couple of benches sat on a puddle-filled flagstone patio, and Sardelle glimpsed a small pottery shed squatting against the side of the house, numerous ceramic wares stacked around it. From the walkway, she couldn’t tell if it had a door or not, but it didn’t look large enough for extensive… rubbing.

  As she and the others strode toward the front door, several cats ran out of the pottery shed. They darted to the walkway, meowing as they came. Ridge stopped and stared down at them, so Sardelle did too. A white fluffy feline immediately leaned against her leg, leaving hairs on her travel leathers. Oh, well. They had been in need of washing, anyway.

  “Problem, sir?” Cas asked, stepping aside so Ridge could approach the door first. She hadn’t attracted any cats, but two were zeroing in on Tolemek’s legs.

  “Nothing unexpected,” Ridge said, though he wore a bemused expression. He leaned toward Sardelle to whisper, “There are more every time I come.”

  Though they appeared well fed, the cats meowed plaintively, and Sardelle wished she had some scraps for them. She crouched down to stroke one of them—the cat had planted itself in the walkway, so it would have been hard to pass without doing so.

  “I’m going to be terribly jealous if I don’t get rubbed tonight, when the cat did,” Ridge murmured.

  She swatted his leg. “I thought you were offering to do the rubbing.”

  “I imagined you being so enthused that you would return the favor.”

  “Zirkander, you’re too old to be so horny,” Tolemek grumbled, stepping off the walkway and pointing to the door, clearly hoping someone would knock so they could get an invitation out of the rain. “Can’t you save that until nighttime?”

  “I’m as fit and virile as you are.” Ridge strode past him with a glare.

  “But old. Cas agrees.” Tolemek nodded to Cas, who merely raised an eyebrow slightly.

  “Lieutenant Ahn knows better than to make aspersions about her C.O.’s age.” Ridge walked onto the stoop and raised a hand to knock, but the door opened before he touched it.

  Sardelle glimpsed a tall, lean woman with a woven band of dried grass and flowers holding back her long gray hair before she flung herself at Ridge. Several more cats flowed out of the house past her legs.

  “Ridgewalker Meadowlark, you’ve been gone for—” The rest was inaudible, because her face was buried in his shoulder.

  “Meadowlark,” Duck said, then sniggered. “Hearing your C.O. called that is…”

  “Inexplicably delightful?” Apex suggested. “Risible? Satisfying?”

  “Fun,” Duck said.

  “Ah, yes. Fun.”

  “Good to see you, Mom,” Ridge said to the top of her head, giving her a return hug. “I saw Dad recently. He’s pining for you terribly.”

  His mother didn’t let him go, but she leaned back enough to snort and meet his eyes. “I’ll bet. What’s going on here? With all the trouble in the city, I didn’t expect to see you. The rumors said you were missing.” She searched his face as if the answers might be inked on his cheeks.

  “I wasn’t missing so much as on a mission with select members of my squadron. We got the news that there was some chaos in the capital, so we decided to check in here before heading to town.”

  While he had been speaking, Mrs. Zirkander had leaned to the side and started taking in his entourage. “Your… squadron, dear?” Her eyebrows rose as she considered Tolemek.

  Kaika, Cas, Duck, and Apex looked like soldiers, albeit scruffy ones at the moment, but Tolemek still had the air of a pirate about him, especially when he wasn’t wearing his white lab coat. Sardelle had no idea what she looked like currently. There had been few opportunities for bathing or washing clothes, so all she knew was that her travel leathers were dirty and fragrant after their adventures. She wished she could have met Ridge’s mother wearing an attractive dress and with her hair done up instead of simply tugged back in a ponytail in need of shampoo and a brush.

  “And a few civilian experts,” Ridge said. “Everyone, this is my mom, Fern. Mom, that’s Tolemek, Lieutenants Ahn, Duck, and Apex, and Captain Kaika.”

  Fern’s eyes shifted from person to person, following the introduction. Sardelle’s stomach fluttered with nerves when the woman looked at her. Fern wore a clay-stained apron over a floral dress and boots practical for the wet weather. Numerous beaded bracelets dangled from her wrists, all made in a cheerful style reminiscent of the decorative tiles embedded in the walls.

  Sardelle clasped her hands in front of her, waiting to see how Ridge would introduce her. Civilian expert? Or something less distant? Also, would his mother have seen those posters and recognize her?

  You’re a powerful sorceress. There’s no need to be so nervous.

  How would you know, Jaxi? You’ve never been introduced to a lover’s mother.

  If I had been, I would have been fabulous.

  “Mom?” Ridge extended his arm toward Sardelle and smiled. “This is Sardelle Terushan from a small town over in the Ice Blade Mountains. She’s smart, beautiful, adventurous, and she’ll have your back in a fight, whether it’s on the ground or five thousand feet in the air. She’s absolutely wonderful, and I love her.”

  The blatant, heartfelt words stunned Sardelle, especially after the way Ridge had stumbled over introducing her to his father. His mother seemed stunned too. She stared back and forth from Ridge to Sardelle as her mouth dangled open.

  Ridge, his eyes twinkling, lifted a hand to cover his mouth and whisper to Sardelle. “Did I do better this time? I’ve been rehearsing.”

  Sardelle tried to swallow, but more emotion than she would have expected swelled in her throat. She nodded.

  “How come we don’t get introductions like that?” Duck muttered. “We’ve got his back too.”

  “You want him to profess his love for you?” Apex murmured back.

  “No, that would be weird.”

  “Then be quiet.”

  “Ridge,” Fern breathed, taking a step toward Sardelle and lifting her arms, “that’s so—” She halted mid-step and squinted at him. “This isn’t a joke, is it? You know I’m too old for your pranks.”

  Sardelle wasn’t sure what to make of the question, but R
idge only grinned.

  “No joke, Mom. I love her. And I think she loves me too. We’ll know for sure later when I try to talk her into the pottery shed.”

  Sardelle flushed and thought about slapping him in the chest, but he had stepped aside so his mother could walk closer.

  “Hello, ma’am.” Sardelle wasn’t sure what else to call her. Fern seemed so informal. Would she prefer to be Ms. Zirkander?

  “It’s so wonderful to meet you, Sardelle.” Fern clasped Sardelle’s hands in her own clay-stained ones, her palms lightly callused, the hands of someone who worked for a living, or at least worked hard at her art. “Ridge doesn’t usually bring women home, so I can’t tell you how happy I am to see you.”

  “I’m pleased to be here.” Sardelle meant it, and her smile was genuine, but she couldn’t help but worry what would happen when the truth came out. Ridge hadn’t mentioned sorcery in that introduction. Maybe he planned on keeping it a secret, or waiting to share the information.

  So, should I not start glowing and throbbing obnoxiously? Jaxi asked.

  Please don’t.

  I won’t if he doesn’t.

  He?

  Kasandral. The dragon-slaying sword. He’s been glowing vigorously at night when nobody is looking. I think he likes Lieutenant Ahn.

  Should I find that alarming? Sardelle asked, aware of Fern looking her up and down. Once again, she wished she were more presentable.

  Probably.

  “Come inside, dear,” Fern said. “Let’s get you out of the rain.” She let go of one but not both of Sardelle’s hands, using the one she held to guide Sardelle to the door.

  Ridge smirked as they went by, as if he had expected nothing less than this welcome.

  “Uh,” Kaika said. “Are we invited in too?”

  Fern didn’t seem to hear her. “How long have you and Ridge been seeing each other?” she asked Sardelle as they stepped into the house, where the chatter of birds greeted them. Several large bamboo cages hung from the rafters, with colorful canaries, budgies, and cockatiels singing from perches within them.

  “Since the beginning of winter,” Sardelle said, glancing back to make sure everyone else was following. Ridge was waving them to the doorway.

  “And you don’t mind that he flies?” Fern raised her eyebrows, leading her around an easel with a half-finished landscape on it, and toward a seating area.

  Not so long as he doesn’t mind that I manipulate matter with my mind… “Not at all,” Sardelle said.

  Or have a talking sword?

  That too. Though you’re more of a telepathic sword than a talking one.

  I could vocalize if I wanted to, Jaxi said. Not that anyone could hear me over the noise of all those birds. And cats. This woman is odd.

  I’d guess she’s lonely. Not everybody has a sword to keep them company.

  This is true. I’m certain you would be terribly forlorn if I wasn’t here for you.

  Terribly.

  “I know in the past, he’s struggled to find someone who can accept that he’s always putting himself in danger,” Fern said, sitting on a couch and patting the cushion next to her.

  “I trust that he’s capable up there.” Sardelle sat next to her. “I’ve seen it for myself, in fact. And I put myself in danger, too, so I’m used to that.”

  “You do? What kind of work do you do?”

  Er, yes, what kind of work did she do that she could share? She almost delivered the line Ridge had been giving to the men on base, that she was an archaeologist, but his mother might be knowledgeable on that, given that her husband was a professional treasure hunter. If she started asking about universities and professors, Sardelle would have no idea what to say. “I’m a doctor.”

  “And you find that dangerous?”

  “Well. I have to heal soldiers sometimes.”

  “Ah, I understand. They can be ungrateful.”

  “Does she know we’re all in here?” Duck whispered to Apex. The rest of the group had moseyed into the living room, and Ridge was shutting the door.

  “Unless you give them sweets,” Fern added with a wink.

  “Or any kind of food,” Ridge said. “Mom, can we sleep here tonight? Cadge some of your food? We have to make some plans before heading into the city. Did you know that the king is missing? Or he was? Is that still true?”

  “I believe so, Ridge. There’s a newspaper on that table over there if you need to update yourself.” Fern patted Sardelle’s knee and leaned forward. “I apologize for being forward, dear, but is it too soon to ask if you’re thinking of marrying my son?”

  “Mom,” Ridge groaned, drawing out the single syllable into at least three. There might have been more syllables, but he broke it off when he almost tripped over a cat on his way to the table.

  “I’m embarrassing him.” Fern smiled, not looking the least chagrined about it.

  “I wouldn’t object to the possibility,” Sardelle said, all the while wondering if Fern’s birdsong would change when she learned about her talents. “And he’s teased me with the idea.”

  “Teased you? Ridge? You’re not doing it right.”

  Ridge had reached the newspaper and was frowning down at the front page. He did not respond. The rest of the squadron was standing or shuffling their feet, and Sardelle felt guilty for getting all the attention while they dripped onto the floor and didn’t know where to go.

  “What about children?” Fern asked, patting Sardelle’s thigh again. “Has he told you how much I would love to have grandchildren? Have you considered having babies? Will it be soon?”

  The bluntness of the questions took Sardelle aback, and she had no idea how to answer. It wasn’t as if she had never thought of having children, but she had never had anyone she had contemplated having them with. And she and Ridge had been so busy—and she had so many people who wanted her dead—that she hadn’t sat down to contemplate it lately.

  “If it’s all right with you, Mom, we thought we’d rescue the king and save the nation first.” Ridge was frowning down at the newspaper as he spoke, but he did glance toward Sardelle and mouth, “Ignore her.”

  “I didn’t realize the entire nation was in danger, sir,” Apex said.

  “It is if the queen is in charge,” Duck said. “What does she know about defending a continent?”

  “I don’t know much about what she knows. In the portraits, she’s usually shown reading a book or doing needlepoint. She seems to keep to herself.”

  “If this article is right, she’s in charge now,” Ridge said. “I wonder if she’s the one who forced General Ort to step down and appointed that muscles-for-brains Therrik to lead the flier squadrons.”

  “I doubt she has anything to do with military matters, sir,” Apex said.

  “Well, I want to find out who is making those decisions. And who’s feeding these stories to the newspaper, as well—stories about me being AWOL and being controlled by a witch who blew up my house to warn me of the consequences of disobeying. A decapitated luck dragon was found among the ashes. Decapitated. Did you see this, Mom?” He shook the paper in her direction.

  Sardelle fought to keep the panic off her expression. Maybe it had been inevitable if the papers had written about it, but she hadn’t expected him to bring up witches to his mother.

  Relax, she doesn’t believe in magic. You’re probably fine. But… about your occupation? You probably should have gone with archaeologist.

  Why?

  She’s got some bunions she’s thinking of asking you to look at. Since you’re a doctor.

  Oh. Sardelle had not imagined medical care being a part of her meeting with Ridge’s family. They wouldn’t be the first bunions I’ve seen.

  Unfortunately, I know that.

  “Yes, I was very worried about you,” Fern said. “The article neglected to clarify that you weren’t in the house when it blew up.”

  “Why would they blow it up?” Ridge gave Sardelle a plaintive look. “Nothing they wanted was in it
by then.”

  “You should have gotten a bigger luck dragon, sir,” Apex said, his eyes gleaming with humor.

  “Maybe he should have rubbed the real dragon’s belly,” Duck muttered.

  Fern blinked. “Real dragon? Dragons don’t exist.”

  She also doesn’t believe in dragons, Jaxi mentioned.

  Yes, I see.

  “Right,” Ridge said, walking to the couch. “Mom, would you mind making something for my men to eat? We’ve had a rough few days, and we’re starving. Also, we have some classified information to discuss.” He tilted his head toward the kitchen door.

  Fern looked at Sardelle as she stood up. “Does he show up on your doorstep unannounced and ask you to cook for his people?”

  Before Sardelle could decide if she wanted to admit to not having notable cooking skills, Ridge said, “We’re sharing the same doorstep, Mom. Or we were before it was blown up.” Her face twisted in rueful disbelief as he patted her on the shoulder, gently but firmly steering her toward the kitchen.

  “Are you?” Fern smiled at Sardelle. “That’s wonderful. Ridge, when you’re done rescuing people and using my cottage for a safe house, make sure to discuss babies with her.”

  Ridge grimaced. “Mom, you should have had more kids if you wanted to guarantee grandchildren.”

  “I tried, but your father was so seldom here. I would have had to tie him to the bed while wearing lingerie made of ancient maps to convince him to engage in local mountain climbing expeditions.”

  “Mountain climbing…” Ridge’s grimace deepened and he glanced at his troops. “Mom, we don’t want to hear about that.”

  He shooed her into the kitchen before plopping down beside Sardelle. A gray cat hopped into his lap. Someone must not have closed the door quickly enough, because a number that had previously been outdoors had made their way indoors. Judging by the tilt to this one’s head, it was contemplating using Ridge’s shoulder for a launching pad to reach one of the birdcages. Sardelle trusted the bamboo was sturdy enough to thwart invasion attempts.