Gold Dragon (Heritage of Power #5)(4)
“Congratulations, Lieutenant.” Kaika switched the clipboard to her left hand and lifted her right for a sincere salute. “I knew you could make it, but I’m glad to see that proved true.”
Rysha bit her lip and returned the salute, touched by the words. “Thank you, ma’am.”
“The induction ceremony will be the day after tomorrow.”
“Are there any missions planned?” Rysha asked, more interested in that than in ceremonies.
She already knew her parents wouldn’t ride up for the presentation or to help her celebrate this. More likely, they would spend the night she shared the news drinking, lamenting that she had passed and would continue to put her life at risk instead of returning to the world of academia. If her grandmother had still been alive, she would have come up, even if it meant riding miles along the highway on horseback by herself. Rysha felt a twinge of sadness at the memory of her pointless loss.
“As it so happens,” Kaika said, “I was told to report to the castle early tomorrow morning. You better come too.”
“Uhm, am I expected?” Rysha worried that King Angulus, or whoever had called this meeting wouldn’t be pleased if she invited herself. Or if Major Kaika presumed to invite her.
“Your dragon is.”
Rysha blinked and turned toward Shulina Arya.
Indeed, yes. At the castle in the morning. My parents told me to come.
“Your parents are in the city?” Rysha asked.
In the past, Shulina Arya had mentioned being raised by two male bronze dragons who’d rescued her from her birth mother, a cranky female who’d considered her scrawny and who had wanted to sacrifice her. But Rysha had never met them. She hadn’t even been certain they were alive or had come through the portal into Linora.
They just arrived today. It will be good for you to meet them. I once told them I wanted to find a noble warrior of a rider to fly into battle with one day. They always said I could do anything I wished if I merely focused on it. Now, I will show you to them.
Rysha made herself smile, but the idea of her being introduced to Shulina Arya’s family as the culmination of some dragonly goal made her feel… She couldn’t even describe it. She hoped she wouldn’t disappoint these dragons.
“Meeting the family, huh?” Kaika asked, having apparently heard the telepathic conversation. “Do you think they’ll be impressed with sock puppets?”
2
Captain Telryn “Trip” Yert rolled his flier into the hangar, trailing after Major Blazer and Captain Ahn, and gave the dashboard a little pat as he navigated W-38 into its parking area. The sleek one-man flier was brand new, fresh from the factory and of the latest design. He’d been tickled to take it up into the air, though he admitted to being a touch lonely without Rysha in the seat behind him. He might have even settled for the dour Dreyak.
Thinking of the dead Cofah warrior made him grimace. He owed Dreyak’s mother a favor, and he owed Prince Varlok, current ruler of the Cofah empire, an explanation. Technically, he only needed to deliver a magical dagger to the prince, and it would do the explaining. In its own ancient, arcane way. Trip had briefly explained his obligations to King Angulus when he, Rysha, and Major Kaika had returned from Rakgorath, but Trip hadn’t heard anything about it, or seen the king, in the weeks that followed.
He hated to be a nag—was nagging royalty allowed?—and Iskandia had its own problems to deal with, but he had made a promise.
“She must fly real good,” a voice drifted up from the hangar deck. Captain Duck. “You’re already caressing her, and we didn’t even find any dragons to fight this time.”
Cheeks warming, Trip withdrew his hand. It had been more of a daydreaming, absent-minded touch than a caress, but he doubted he could say anything that would keep him from being mocked.
“She handled nicely as we went past a couple of belligerent seagulls.” Trip pushed his goggles up on his forehead and unfastened his harness. “I’m positive she’ll knock the scales off any dragons we encounter and leave them bald.”
He grabbed Azarwrath’s scabbard from the holder he’d made next to his seat and stood to climb down from the flier, but paused, realizing Duck wasn’t alone down there.
“Bald dragons?” General Zirkander asked. “Sounds moderately appalling.”
“I imagine so, sir.”
“I have seen a dragon react with distress to acid eating through its scales, courtesy of one of Tolemek’s early goos. I understand he’s been ensconced in his lab and is making more since your team brought blood samples back from the portal mission.”
“That’s good, sir.” Realizing Zirkander wasn’t going to mock him for caressing his dashboard, Trip slid down, accidentally clunking Azarwrath’s hilt on the side of the flier. There were days he did not feel like a powerful sorcerer. Or even a powerful sorcerer-in-training. “Will I get to meet Dr. Targoson? I asked Captain Ahn if he was nice, and she shrugged and grunted at me.”
“A shrug and a grunt?” Duck asked. “You must have caught her on a loquacious day.”
“Loquacious, Duck?” Zirkander asked. “Have you been reading dictionaries?”
“I’ve been reading plenty of things, sir. Big, thick books from ye olden days when they used lots of fancy words. Cradarkin, Grundier, Lady Marchthicket. Classics.”