“I wouldn’t mind it if someone called my powers delightful.”
“Doesn’t Ravenwood do that while you two are writhing like snakes under the sheets?” Leftie stood, also turning to face the open hangar door.
“We’re nothing like snakes. We’re like two meshed gears rotating together to create the perfect amount of torque.”
“Seven gods, Trip, you don’t say things like that to women, do you?”
“It’s not any worse than the lewd things you say.”
“Trust me, it is. And torque? That’s rotation, isn’t it?”
“Sometimes.” Trip gave him a cryptic smile, even though his off-the-cuff simile perhaps hadn’t been entirely accurate. What he’d meant to say was that they fit together perfectly to create something greater than the whole. Was it too late to amend the statement? Or maybe he shouldn’t. Leftie was now wearing a speculative expression.
“Which dragon is that?” Tranq asked, ignoring them and touching the pistol at her belt, as if that would do anything against a dragon.
“Shulina Arya, and Bhrava Saruth is on the way too,” Trip said, as Shulina Arya flew above the level of the bluff and into view, her golden scales gleaming with moisture. Rysha rode astride her back in her full-dress uniform. She had definitely been getting ready for the ceremony. But she had Dorfindral, her chapaharii sword, belted at her waist, so the dragon must have found her while she was still in her room. “To warn us of trouble in Portsnell,” Trip added.
The small door in the side of the hangar opened, and General Zirkander jogged in. None of his usual affable mien showed on his face, so maybe Bhrava Saruth had already told him the news.
A thrum of anticipation coursed through Trip’s veins as he realized a battle was imminent. He should have been nervous and filled with dread rather than excited, especially at the prospect of six dragons, but he couldn’t help it. The part of him that craved taking to the sky like a deadly predator and pitting himself against foes hadn’t seen the light of day for weeks.
As Shulina Arya dropped onto the runway outside the hangar and Bhrava Saruth flew into sight, Trip waved his hand to duplicate the magical folding of the rest of the parachutes. His fellow soldiers jumped back, some cursing, some merely issuing startled squawks. The last parachute tucked itself neatly into a bag as General Zirkander reached Tranq.
He had been eyeing the self-packing parachutes as he jogged up and said, “That’s a little…”
“Trip prefers it when you call it delightful rather than creepy, sir,” Leftie said.
“Uh, right.”
“Maybe later, he’ll offer to torque something of yours,” Leftie added.
Zirkander frowned at him. Trip elbowed Leftie.
Even though Trip knew Zirkander much better than he had a couple of months ago, he still wouldn’t presume to quip and make jokes with him. He was the commander in charge of all the flier squadrons throughout the country, after all.
“If I need anything torqued, I’m sure I can find an appropriate tool without Captain Trip’s help,” Zirkander said. “Report, Tranq.”
“I don’t know anything yet, sir. They just got here.” Tranq pointed at the dragons.
Trip eased back a few steps, both so he wouldn’t intrude on their conversation and because he felt embarrassed after Leftie’s dumb joke. But Zirkander lifted his eyebrows and waved him forward again.
“You were just going to pack all the parachutes and flee, Captain?” he asked as Rysha dismounted and ran toward them.
“I didn’t want to get in the way.”
“Powerful sorcerers are allowed to be in the way. Or so Sardelle tells me.”
Trip thought about pointing out that his powers, such as they were, weren’t well-trained yet, so he hardly deserved special status, but the senior officers had turned their attention to the new arrivals.
Bhrava Saruth flew over Shulina Arya’s head, his talons almost flicking her scales, then tightened his wings to his body and arrowed through the open hangar door. He landed in front of Tranq and Zirkander as Rysha reached them. She’d been in the middle of snapping up her salute and jumped at the dragon suddenly looming over her shoulders.
Trip nodded at her when their eyes caught, but he didn’t run over and hug her like he wanted to. Her dress uniform was soaking, and her bun hung limply at the base of her cap, with a few strands of wet hair plastering her cheeks.
Human followers, Bhrava Saruth announced, dragons are invading your northern town where sixteen of my worshippers live and create offerings for me.
Shulina Arya, who perhaps hadn’t been inside the hangar before, entered more carefully, walking instead of flying. It seemed strange that the wide doorway, perfectly adequate for a two-seater flier, was cramped for a dragon with wings fully outstretched.
“Portsnell?” Zirkander asked.
“You know the name of the city based on how many followers he has in it?” Tranq asked.
“It’s my gift,” Zirkander said, though he didn’t crack a smile. “Are they attacking the city now?”
He glanced around the hangar, as if planning to order everyone to make ready, but everyone was doing exactly that, pilots running to their fliers and the ground crew topping off everybody’s oil supply.
They are not attacking, Bhrava Saruth said. Yet. They have ordered all humans to exit the town except for those who can provide food. They demand a tribute of one hundred cattle, sheep, and horses, or they will raze the city.
“Sheep and cattle?” Zirkander asked. “Portsnell is a fishing and tourism town. It’s a good fifty miles before you get to any farms or ranches.”
Perhaps the citizens could offer baked goods as a delaying tactic, Bhrava Saruth suggested.
That would only delay a dragon like you, Shulina Arya said.
“Ahn.” Zirkander waved the captain toward their group. “Are they all gold dragons, Bhrava Saruth?”
There is only one gold, in fact. But four are silvers, and they are still able combatants, though they lack fire. There is a bronze dragon also, a female. Bronze dragons are notoriously shifty. It is possible she is the ringleader. Dragons rarely work together unless they are mated. This is a disconcerting development.
Rysha grimaced, and Trip thought of the bronze dragon that had tricked them in Lagresh, making them believe he was an old friend of hers rather than a dragon after a journal. He wasn’t trying to read Rysha’s thoughts, but something flashed near the surface, and for an instant, he saw the bronze dragon in his copper-haired human form pushing her up against the wall.
He almost asked her right there what had happened, but Ahn reached them first, and Zirkander spoke again.
“Did Tolemek’s new bullets arrive yet?”
“Yes, sir. There’s a case in the office. Guaranteed to pierce dragon scales—if their magical shields are down.”