He didn’t react to the comment, and she carefully—and with reluctance—removed his hand from her thigh and eased out of his embrace. His eyes remained closed, his breathing even.
The candles burned cheerfully, each with about one-third of its length remaining. They ought to continue to exude their sedative scent for a couple more hours, maybe longer. Shehopedlonger. Once Vorik woke up, he would realize what she’d done, that she’d thanked him for coming to help her by seducinghim.
It had been for the good of the kingdom, she told herself, and hoped he wouldn’t hate her later. At the least, she thought he might notblameher, but she didn’t know. The thought of him deciding she was a true enemy, one to be targeted and captured instead of protected, saddened her deeply, but she had no choice.
Careful to be quiet, even though she knew his slumber was deeper than normal sleep, Syla hurried to put on her robe, shoes, spectacles, and grab her pack and head out into the night.
34
The rain stoppedand dawn crept over the lava-rock terrain as Syla navigated higher on the slope of the volcano, the pack she’d dragged all over the island heavy on her shoulders. There wasn’t a trail, and she kept stubbing her toes and banging her knees. Though Lesva’s magical torment hadn’t been as debilitating as physical torture would have been, she could feel the aftereffects bogging down her movements. Making her slower and wearier than she wanted.
Aware of the minutes passing—the candles burning ever lower as Vorik slept—she sighed in vast relief when she spotted the cave she’d visited years before, the one that led to the shielder.
She hurried toward it, hoping Fel and Tibby were safe within and had gained access to the artifact chamber. But she couldn’t help but worry that they were dead, that Vorik might have found them before he’d come to her. It hadn’t sounded like he’d yet located the shielder, so she hoped that wasn’t the case. But everything might have been a lie. The artifact might already have been destroyed.
No. Syla glanced upward. Though she couldn’t sense themagic of the barrier unless she was right next to it, the lack of dragons in the sky suggested that it remained up.
She scrambled through the tunnel, down an old rockslide, and into a lava tube. At the end, a door within a stone wall was swung inward, and silver light flowed out. She sensed magic in that direction as well, mingling with the illumination.
That had to be from the shielder, its protective door opened by Tibby’s moon-mark.
Syla ran, needing to verify that she was correct and that her allies were both alive.
When she peeked through the wide doorway, the glowing orb and the intricate mounting surrounding it were the first things she saw. Then she noticed her aunt among a scattering of old parchment scrolls—where had those come from? Tibby was using a wrench-like tool to unfasten the orb from the mounting system while Fel stood guard behind her. He spun toward the doorway and lifted his mace but lowered it again.
“Your Highness!” Such an expression of genuine delight came across his face that it warmed Syla’s heart.
“Sergeant Fel.” She smiled, relieved to see them alive and well. “Aunt Tibby. I’m glad you’re both all right. I worried… Well, that Captain Lesva captured me, and I’ve been worried she, uhm, they might have gotten to you before finding me.”
“The horrible woman who tried to kill us with her dragon?” Tibby asked.
“Her dragon, her troops’ dragons, her sword… All in all, she’s had it out for me.”
“I dare say so. You… escaped?” Tibby knelt back and looked her up and down.
“I…” Syla thought about mentioning how she’d learned to use her power for something besides healing, but being able to threaten to stop a man’s heart was nothing to be proud of. Besides, there wasn’t time to explain everything. In the end, her power hadn’t been what stopped Lesva anyway. “Vorik found me and knocked her off a cliff.”
Technically, lightning had destroyed that section of the cliff, but he’d been the one to drive Lesva back to the edge.
Fel groaned instead of cheering and looked toward the lava tube. “Is he withyou?”
He hefted his mace again and bared his teeth.
“No. I left him unconscious in a cave near that cliff, breathing in the vapors of two Candles of Serenity.”
Tibby’s forehead furrowed, but during the various surgeries Fel had endured over the years, he must have learned about the candles because he looked enlightened rather than puzzled.
“Good idea,” he said. “Smart of you to bring some from the temple.”
“Thank you.” Syla hoped he wouldn’t think to ask how she’d managed to convince Vorik to loiter in the back of a cave long enough for the vapors to affect him.
“But why is that riderunconscious? Why didn’t you cut his throat while he was out?” Fel made a slashing motion across his own throat.
“I didn’t have a knife.”
True, but they both knew she wouldn’t have done it anyway.
Fel looked at her in exasperation.
