“Trip has brought them down before.” Zirkander’s gaze shifted to Trip. “Can you do that again? I know you’ve had more practice with dragons since we last flew into battle together.”
Trip had been looking at Rysha—worrying about Rysha—but he would have to ask her about that moment later. “I may be able to, sir. I have had some luck reading their thoughts even with their defenses up.”
“I don’t want you to read the dragons, Trip. I want you to utterly destroy them. Or at least lower their defenses so we can utterly destroy them.”
“Yes, sir. I’m not sure about my odds of doing that against six dragons, but I’ll do my best.”
That answer didn’t seem to reassure Zirkander, and Trip wished he could be more positive. He’d had practice battling the bronze dragon Xandyrothol, and had forced his defenses down once during that fight, but he still felt it was more a matter of rage than calculation that let him do that. Unfortunately, rage was hard to harness. He dearly preferred calculation, complete with equations featuring more constants than variables, to emotion.
“Grab Leftie, Duck, and some of the ground crew,” Zirkander told Ahn. “Get bullets in every flier that’s going out.” He raised his voice toward the hangar. “Everyone in Wolf Squadron, mount up. As soon as our elite troops with the magic-hating swords show up, we’re going to fight some dragons.”
A whoop went through the hangar as the activity level increased further.
“Does that mean you’re coming out with us, sir?” Tranq asked.
“You don’t think I ran all the way up here in the rain just to pat your butts and send you off, do you?” Zirkander asked.
“I don’t know, sir,” Tranq said. “Some people here like your butt pats.”
“Like who? I know it’s not Blazer, and your husband would be alarmed to hear it’s you.”
Tranq snorted. “I mean the young men who idolize you.”
She looked at Trip. It was probably only because he was the last “young man” standing there.
When Zirkander’s eyebrows rose in his direction, Trip blurted, “I only like Rysha’s butt pats.”
Maybe that hadn’t been the most professional thing to say…
Rysha made an odd face—or was that an embarrassed face? “Thanks, Trip.”
Sorry, he whispered silently. He almost added more, but she turned toward Shulina Arya, and he sensed them communicating.
“Wolf Squadron is yours, sir,” Tranq said, nodding, “as always.”
“Thanks, Colonel.” He thumped her on the shoulder and ran toward his flier to prepare it for battle.
Trip followed, veering toward his and trying not to worry about how to lower the defenses of six dragons.
6
Rain spattered Rysha’s spectacles and pounded her back as she flew north along the coast on Shulina Arya’s back. When she’d imagined riding into battle with the dragon, she hadn’t envisioned rain. But she couldn’t complain when Trip and fifteen Wolf Squadron pilots flew behind them, their cockpits just as open to the elements.
This is marvelous! Shulina Arya announced into her mind. Finally, we get to fly into another battle together. Against six foes this time, not just one puny half-defeated dragon. Can you not wait?
Shulina Arya twirled in the air, and Rysha clutched at her smooth scales for purchase, even though she knew the dragon’s magic would keep her from falling off. Her stomach gurgled, a queasy feeling emanating from it as the ocean’s choppy waves appeared above her head, then under her feet, then over her head again.
Do you not mind the rain? Rysha asked while she groped for a polite way to ask the dragon not to twirl so enthusiastically.
I prefer warm rain, but it does not interfere with my flying. I see with my mind, not my eyes, so visibility is not a problem.
Visibility wasn’t Rysha’s problem. Well, technically it was, but not in the same sense as the dragon meant. She fumbled in her pocket for her handkerchief, which was as wet as the rest of the clothing, so she could wipe her spectacles.
You do not enjoy being wet? Shulina Arya asked, sounding surprised.
Not in my clothing. Fearing the dragon might make her uniform disappear, Rysha hastily added, And not from the rain. A warm bath is pleasant.
Ah, like flying into a temperate ocean. Yes, most appealing.
I was thinking of a tub full of bubbles.
I will use my magic to shelter you from the rain while we fly. Once we engage in battle, I may be too distracted to focus on small comforts.
Rysha was about to say that Shulina Arya didn’t need to waste the energy doing that, but a wave of warmth coursed through her body, and her clothing instantly dried. Even the water droplets spattered on her lenses disappeared. She almost melted all over the dragon in gratitude.
What’s going on over there? Trip spoke into her mind.
His flier had outdistanced the others and flew between Shulina Arya and Bhrava Saruth. A faint red glow came from his cockpit—Azarwrath? Maybe the soulblade was also eager to enter into battle.
Rysha couldn’t tell if the man in Trip’s back seat was as eager. Colonel Grady, armed with one of the chapaharii swords, a rifle, a truncheon, and two pistols, sat behind him. Rysha had seen the officer in the hangar and thought he looked like a walking armory, but Major Kaika and Colonel Therrik, the two other elite troops soldiers along on the mission, were similarly armed. Knowing Kaika, she had a bag full of explosives with her too. Rysha was surprised Grady—and his chapaharii blade—was flying with Trip instead of with a pilot that didn’t have dragon blood.
We’re discussing warmth, she replied.
Ah. I was checking on you, felt your discomfort, and was pondering what I could do about it. But then you abruptly seemed extremely comfortable.
Rysha smiled, delighted that he was keeping an eye on her and wanted her to be comfortable. Flying dragon-back is a luxury experience, Trip.
I’ll stick to my flier.
Are you sure? Nobody is riding Bhrava Saruth. Perhaps if you brought him an offering, he’d allow you aboard.
My understanding is that Sardelle rides him into battle if anyone does. She is his high priestess, after all.
I’m glad Shulina Arya doesn’t seem to believe humans should worship her.
Just feed her tarts?
That seems an equitable tradeoff for the assistance she’s offering.
I won’t disagree. You can’t hear our chatter over the communication crystals, right?
No.
We’re over here strategizing. Now I wish I’d thought to dig one out of an unused flier for you. Or maybe I could figure out how to make extras myself.
Is there something you wish Shulina Arya and me to do? Rysha realized he wasn’t in command and that the question should be for General Zirkander. Though Trip was out in front, as if he led the squadron. Maybe he had been put in command.
No, Trip said dryly. I’ve been sent ahead to take the brunt of the first wave of the attacks.
Oh, you’re cannon fodder.