Unraveled: Heritage of Power, Book 4 Read online

  The paymaster looked up and frowned at Trip. “Don’t you have a sexy businesswoman waiting for you?”

  “So it seems,” Trip murmured and hurried out.

  As he walked down the hallway toward the exit, he realized why the paymaster had scrutinized the soulblades. He must have been wondering if they were chapaharii swords and if he could get any money for them if he managed to acquire them. The common person probably didn’t know that mages couldn’t touch chapaharii weapons. Further, they might think any fancy-looking sword was one.

  Trip frowned. What if all of the enforcers were looking for chapaharii blades now? Kaika and Rysha could be in trouble.

  3

  Rysha paced back and forth in front of the stasis chambers while watching the door she’d manhandled back into place. She gnawed on something the locals called Tacky. Dried fish jerky seasoned with something that seemed a mix of sugar and fire chilis. It was awful, stale, and not truly identifiable as fish, but it was available everywhere. She couldn’t say that it filled her stomach, since it took ten minutes to chew down a piece, but it gave her mouth something to do while she worried about the missing stasis chamber.

  The journal and the cult book lay open on one of the lumpy mattresses, but she had a hard time studying, knowing she had failed Trip and one of those helpless babies. Worse, Trip and Kaika had both been gone longer than expected. Rysha had expected—hoped—Kaika would return within minutes with the stasis chamber in her arms.

  Thumps, voices, and clangs kept coming from the alley. Rysha had thought the bodies out there would deter foot traffic for a while, but earlier, after someone had exclaimed in wordless delight, she’d opened the shutters to peer out. She’d spotted a woman and man—wife and husband?—levering a body into a wheelbarrow while a couple of kids rifled through the pockets of the other fallen men.

  “…good money for these bodies, and those knives are gems,” the woman had said, indifferent to the blood spattering the cobblestones and the bullet holes riddling the surrounding walls.

  Rysha had backed away and closed the shutters, not wanting to know what kind of economy paid “good money” for bodies. Nor did she want to know what could be done with dead human beings to turn a profit.

  A thump sounded on the door, and Rysha grabbed Dorfindral.

  She had set the sword aside earlier, hoping to make herself more accessible in case Trip attempted to communicate with her from a distance. It buzzed as she gripped it again, as if to admonish her for not keeping it close.

  Rysha took a deep breath. The idea of defending the room—the stasis babies—again without Kaika’s help unnerved her, but she vowed to do it. She wouldn’t fail again.

  It’s me, a gentle voice spoke into her mind. Trip.

  A surge of excitement flowed into her arms as Dorfindral hoped in vain that it would finally get a chance to rid the world of a vile half-dragon human.

  She glared at the blade and set it aside. All the quality time Dorfindral had spent with Trip, and the silly sword didn’t yet know he was an ally. Or didn’t care. She wished Trip had reprogrammed its personality and not just the command words.

  The door seems to be malfunctioning. His tone turned dry, and she suspected he had already examined it and determined the problem. She also suspected he didn’t yet know about the missing baby.

  You’re skinny, Rysha thought back while she mustered the courage to bring it up. I can open the shutters, and we can see if you can fit between the bars over the window.

  Skinny? That denotes scrawniness. I assure you that I’m lean, wiry, and strong.

  Don’t worry, Trip. It wasn’t your massive brawn that attracted me to you. I won’t think less of you if you can slip between these bars.

  My lean, wiry, strongness—I didn’t claim massive brawn—couldn’t possibly fit between those bars. I believe they’re there to keep people such as myself out of the hostel rooms.

  People such as yourself? Trip, you realize that you are officially in your own category these days, right? It’s a very special category that few can enter.

  Rysha headed for the door, intending to tug it open, if the warped hinge would allow it. She glanced at it as she approached, then halted in surprise. It was… reshaping itself. The bent screws re-formed, and the hinge smoothed itself to the jamb and door again.

  The door opened easily and soundlessly on hinges that were more obliging than they had ever been.

  That makes it a rather lonely category. Trip stepped inside. His lopsided smile, a mixture of self-deprecation and wry but resigned amusement, tugged at her heart.

  Rysha stepped forward and hugged him. “Categories are for simpletons. We’re all individuals. Unique souls with unique places in the world.”

  “Hm.” Trip returned her hug, resting the side of his head against hers. “Did you know your room has bullet holes in the door?”

  “This is hardly my room. Major Kaika is the one who rented it.” Rysha took a deep breath and groped for an opening. She had to tell him.

  “Where is she?” Trip looked around, though it wasn’t as if there were any places to hide in the room.

  There was her opening.

  “She chased someone who was spying on us from a rooftop. After killing several people who attacked us. And whose bodies were later carted away to be sold for parts.” Rysha tried to keep her tone calm and flippant—that seemed to be the way for Iskandian elite troops, and for pilots, as well—but her voice cracked as she continued on to the important part. “We lost one of the stasis chambers. We didn’t even see someone get in. Kaika said her sword sensed a little magic. I was too busy fighting to notice anything, and it was smoky, and—” She took a deep breath and forced herself to slow down. “I’m sorry, Trip. It was one of the human babies, a little girl. Kaika was hoping the spy saw whoever got the stasis chamber and that she can get it back.”

  Rysha closed her eyes, her spectacles mashed into Trip’s shoulder. She didn’t want to see his expression, his disappointment.

  “It sounds like you had an eventful day.” He stroked the back of her head and didn’t say anything condemning, even though he had to feel distress. He’d only been gone a few hours, and they had let someone steal one of his defenseless little siblings.

  Easy, Trip thought gently into her mind. It could have happened if I’d been here too. It looks like the odds were against you. I didn’t expect so much interest in them. I shouldn’t have left you two alone. I’m glad you’re all right.

  Even though Rysha wouldn’t forgive herself, the fact that he wasn’t blaming her filled her with relief. She wanted to be strong and independent like Kaika, who had probably never leaned against a man for support in her life, but it felt good to remove her spectacles, rest her head against Trip’s shoulder, and let him stroke her hair.

  “If Kaika can’t find it—find her—will you be able to sense the stasis chamber’s location in the city?” she asked.

  Trip hesitated. “Maybe. There’s more magic in this city than I would have expected, dragon-blooded people and also artifacts. A lot of noise like that makes it hard to pinpoint specific items.”

  “I hope Kaika brings it back.”

  “I’ll find the baby, even if she doesn’t.” His determination came through in the words, and Rysha sensed how much it meant to him. Trip might not blame her, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t upset by the loss.

  “Major Kaika wants to move, no matter what,” Rysha said. “These people—one of them had a Brotherhood of the Dragon brand on his chest—singled out our room and were determined to get in. I don’t know if they knew exactly what we had and believed them valuable or if it was just a guess after seeing us unload the wagon. I doubt that’s all it was. Someone was willing to throw away men’s lives to get in here.”

  “It’s possible they knew about the stasis chambers, but it’s also possible they wanted the chapaharii weapons and, when they realized they wouldn’t get one, grabbed the only other thing in the room besides our packs.
”

  Rysha leaned back. “What makes you think they came for the swords? Until the fight this afternoon, we’d never had them out of their scabbards.”

  “I saw a poster in an enforcer’s office. It was nothing about us specifically, but it had a picture of a chapaharii sword on it, the blade next to the scabbard. Jaxi identified it right away. It looked a lot like the one I saw Captain Ahn carrying back at the flier base.”

  “Kasandral?”

  Trip nodded. “There could be a number of them that look like that, but there was a reward of five thousand vreks listed above the drawings. Someone is paying for chapaharii weapons, and we happened to stroll into the city yesterday with two.”

  “It was in the local currency? Not nucros? It would be upsetting if King Angulus issued a reward for them while we happened to be over here.”

  “Yes, the local currency, though I suppose it’s possible that whoever is offering the reward plans to act as a middleman and then ship them off to a government in need of protecting its people from dragons. At a large markup.” Trip frowned and gazed at the stasis chambers. Worrying someone meant to sell the one that had been stolen? “This seems like the kind of place for that.”

  “I was just having similarly disparaging thoughts about Lagresh. At least paying for a valuable sword that can be used for fighting dragons seems more morally acceptable than paying for human bodies. Or magical babies.”

  Trip’s brow furrowed. “Is it morally acceptable if two women are attacked in their hostel room in order to acquire those swords?”

  “No, but maybe whoever offered the reward was thinking more of archaeological treasure hunts to old ruins than murders.”

  Rysha thought again of the dead man with the Brotherhood brand on his chest. As large as the organization was, it seemed their coffers would be deep already and they wouldn’t need to chase rewards. The man’s brand could have been a coincidence and nothing more. Or maybe the attack hadn’t had anything to do with the chapaharii swords. Maybe the thief had gotten exactly what he wanted.

  “In this town?” Trip asked. “I doubt it. Besides, who would think the enforcers would be experts on ancient sword-filled ruins?”

  “Maybe someone in the office has an academic background and a hobby.” She arched her eyebrows at him. “You don’t know, just because someone wears a uniform, where their expertise lies.”

  “I don’t think we should use you as an example for what’s typical in a law or military force. You also belong to a category that doesn’t house many other people.”

  “Did you just call me odd, Trip?”

  “Yes, but I was trying to be subtle about it.”

  “Try harder. My cogs aren’t rusty, you know.”

  “I’ve noticed. Your cogs are very nice.” He glanced at her chest with speculation in his eyes.

  Rysha wouldn’t have minded more than a glance. A nice long leer, perhaps. Though her Aunt Tadelay would be scandalized if she learned her niece admitted that to a man.

  “Really, Trip. The things engineers say to seduce a woman.”

  Trip looked at the stasis chambers again, let go of her, and stepped back instead of leering or launching a seduction campaign. He walked to the stack of stasis chambers, shifted some away from the wall, and leaned over to pull out a business card that had fallen behind them. It hadn’t been visible—he must have detected it with his senses. Or maybe the soulblades had.

  “Harbor Warehouse One,” he read, then flipped it over. “Ten thousand vreks.”

  Rysha joined him to peer at the card. The amount—a reward?—was scribbled on the back in pencil. The calligraphic words on the front had been printed at a print shop.

  “Is that an address?” She rose on her toes, hope and excitement returning for the first time since the theft. “Maybe that’s where the stasis chamber was taken.” She dropped down on her heels again. “But it would be awfully convenient if the thief left his destination behind. I suppose it could have fallen out of a pocket, but I’m inclined to think it’s a plant. Maybe someone wants us to think that’s where it was taken, that whoever owns the place was responsible. It’s probably on its way to somewhere on the opposite side of the city.” Still… if Kaika didn’t find the stasis chamber, they had to check. What other leads did they have? Unless Trip could magically locate it.

  Rysha looked at his face, noting his silence.

  He had flipped the card back to the front and was staring down at the three typeset words. “If this is the floating warehouse I think it is… I already needed to visit it. Now, it seems, I have two reasons to go.”

  “You mean we, don’t you?” She had been at least partially responsible for losing the baby. She would help him get her back.

  “You’re welcome to come. I talked to an enforcer and got some clues out of his thoughts. I believe the Silver Shark lives and works out there. She’s a powerful businesswoman who is one of the four major players that run just about everything in the city. I have no idea why she would want one of the babies, but she may be the one who ordered Dreyak’s death. I doubt she’ll want to talk to an Iskandian pilot about either event, so the evening could get interesting.”

  “I should definitely come then. And bring some of Kaika’s explosives.”

  Rysha hoped Kaika returned in time so she could go with him. He wouldn’t want to delay, but they couldn’t leave the rest of the stasis chambers unguarded.

  Rysha also hoped that Kaika hadn’t run into anyone looking to cash in on the chapaharii bounty. Even if she had, it was hard to imagine her not being able to handle the problem. Still, anyone could have some bad luck. She thought sadly of Dreyak.

  “When do you get your own explosives?” Trip asked.

  “Probably after I graduate from the elite troops training and whatever demolitions school Major Kaika went to. I imagine that if I walked up to the armory now and asked for explosives, the supply sergeant would lock me inside.”

  “Sergeants don’t usually lock up officers.”

  “Not even young lieutenants who are shiftily asking for bombs?”

  “Young?” Trip arched his eyebrows. “Didn’t we decide you were rather geriatric for a lieutenant?”

  “I’m twenty-seven. That’s a normal age. You’re just overly young for a captain.”

  “Are you sure? I thought we determined I should be making you a cane.”

  “It’s possible there’s a reason Dorfindral keeps suggesting I beat you mercilessly.”

  “Jealousy?”

  “That’s not it.”

  “Huh.”

  He lifted his arms to offer a hug, and while Rysha was debating if she wanted to accept it after he’d called her old, he lowered his arms and turned toward the door. He pulled it open, revealing Kaika standing there, her hand raised to knock. She wasn’t carrying anything. Rysha sighed.

  “You make a prompt butler, Trip,” Kaika said, walking in.

  Her shoulders had a weary slump, and soot smeared the side of her face, but she did not appear injured.

  “I’ll keep that in mind as a backup profession in case I ever get kicked out of the army.” He smiled, as if it were a joke, but Rysha detected worry in his eyes. Maybe he feared that was a possibility because of his decision to stay here and settle Dreyak’s affairs. And what if it took days or weeks to find the stasis chamber? He wouldn’t be willing to go back to Iskandia while one of his siblings was missing.

  “Being a sorcerer isn’t your backup profession?” Kaika asked as Trip shut the door.

  Full darkness had fallen outside.

  “I don’t think that’s a valid profession these days.”

  “You sure? You should ask Sardelle. Maybe she’ll start something up now that there’s more than two of you in the country. There could be a guild with benefits. Better pay than the army offers. Which, admittedly, wouldn’t take much. I ran into a panhandler with a monkey in downtown Pinoth once, and he told me how much he made for playing a flute and dancing with his furry sidekick
on a busy street corner. It was depressing.”

  Kaika unbuckled her sword belt and flopped down on one of the thin, poky mattresses. She looked toward Rysha, her eyebrows lifting. To ask if Rysha had told him about the missing baby? She nodded once.

  “It’s a good thing you were recently promoted to major, ma’am,” Rysha said. “Better pay, right?”

  “I think the panhandler is still making more than I am. People do love monkeys.” From flat on her back on the mattress, Kaika held up Eryndral. “Did you two know there’s a reward out for these swords, right now? Not ours specifically, I don’t think, but any sword with runes on the scabbard is being targeted and brought to the enforcers. They’re offering three thousand vreks to anyone who brings one in.”

  “Interesting considering whoever pays the enforcers for them offers five thousand,” Trip said.

  “You did know.” Kaika slanted him a disgusted look. “Why didn’t you warn us?”

  “I only learned about it this afternoon, ma’am,” Trip said. “I warned Rysha.”

  “Because she’s the one who you have warm, snuggly thoughts about at night?”

  “Because she was here.”

  “You and your pet soulblades couldn’t have located me in the city and tucked a telepathic warning into my brain? I would have listened.”

  Trip tilted his head thoughtfully. “Actually, I believe we could have found you, since you’re familiar to us and carry that sword. I’ll warn you next time something like this comes up. Though Jaxi says she wouldn’t warn you if a piano was about to fall on your head, not after you called her a pet.”

  “Ah, that’s fair. What does the other one think?”

  “That a piano would be a flattering accessory on you.”

  “Those swords are impudent.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Kaika sighed as she sat up and looked at Trip. “I guess Ravenwood told you, but someone sneaked in and stole one of the baby boxes while we were fighting with miscreants in the alley. I’m afraid I didn’t see sign of the thief when I was out there.”

  “I understand, ma’am. We do have a possible lead. An address.” Trip walked over and handed her the card.