Wise’s face twisted with disgust, and he spat. “Those betrayers? We were lucky we pulled off the surprise attack without them alerting the gardeners.”
“I know.” Vorik rose, more than his libido making him want to end this meeting and start his search for Syla. “Head to the harbor, if that’s the order you received, and deliver whatever report you wish about me via your dragon. As for the shielder, whether the princess and her allies will be able to carry it miles to a ship in that harbor, I don’t know. The one I saw looked quite heavy. For your report, however, Syladoesseek to take it back to her island and place it there to protect her people. If our dragon allies are ready, they might be able to intercept it.”
“Yes, perfect. The general, I gather, would be pleased if Harbor Island were laid bare, but he wants them bothexposed for our people and our dragon allies. He wants the islands of the entire kingdom.”
Vorik thought of his deceased nephew. “I’m well aware of what Jhiton wants.”
And, no matter how it would hurt Syla, he was sworn to obey.
27
Fel satin the rain on the driver’s seat of the carriage, guiding the horses up a muddy road that wound past blueberry farms, hazelnut orchards, and raspberry thickets, crops the northern part of Harvest Island was known for. Thanks to the weather, they passed few other people. It also helped that they were heading away from the more populated side of the island and toward wilder lands.
Noon approached, and they’d left Lavaperch Temple miles behind, but that didn’t keep Syla from glancing out the back window of the carriage. As Fel had suggested, the healers and guards had been distracted by Vorik’s escape, and their little group had been able to depart from the stable without anyone questioning them. Before long, however, Syla would inevitably be missed.
As the carriage rocked and lurched, frequently caught in mud puddles before the horses could pull it out, Aunt Tibby sat on the bench across from Syla, a book she’d borrowed from her engineer friend open in her lap. As Tibby had mentioned with chagrinnumerous times, she’d lost her pack—and the tomes she’d brought—during the swim to shore.
The schematics and mathematical tables she studied now meant little to Syla, but she hoped the resource would help her aunt when they reached their destination.
Tibby placed her finger to hold her spot and lifted her gaze. “You weren’t in your room last night when I came by.”
“No, I was sewing up Vorik.”
“I suspected. At the dinner I told you about, I spoke privately to my comrade about transportation.”
“This isn’t it?” Syla waved at their carriage.
“This wobbly-wheeled carriage from the turn of the century? Fel dredged it out from under hay piles in the stable. I’m talking about transportation for theshielder. Sea transportation. Do you have a plan for removing it and getting it out of whatever cave it’s ensconced in? From what I’ve read, they’re quite large and heavy.”
“They are, and I don’t have a plan for moving one, no, but I brought an engineer for a reason.” Syla smiled at her aunt.
“Ah, is thatwhy you recruited me? I know it wasn’t for guidance in international relations.”
“If that’s your way of saying Vorik is a spy, I know.”
Tibby raised her eyebrows. “You’ve expressed doubts. Repeatedly. But the tale of the faction…”
“I did want to believe that, I’ll admit. He’s saved my life numerous times, so…” Syla shrugged.
“And he’s handsome. Especially when he smiles. And eats blackberry desserts.”
“I don’t care aboutthat.” Eager to change the subject, Syla pointed at the book. “Is there anything in there that might be helpful?”
“Probably not, but I’m reminding myself of the hypotheses we currently have about how artifacts that were left for humans by the gods work. The problem with studying them has always beenthat it’s rarely permitted to disassemble such invaluable tools, but that needs to be done to figure out how things work. Still, a few mishaps throughout history, not with the shielders but with other artifacts, have given us some knowledge.”
“There’s a reason the monarchs never allowed the shielders to be disassembled for study.”
“I know. Being without one has already proven disastrous. We are fortunate that the sun, moon, and earth gods cared enough to build such devices for us. They could have shrugged at the storm god’s antics and left us to fend for ourselves.”
“I suppose we’re lucky so many centuries have passed without something awful happening before.” Wishing awfulness had waited another lifetime before striking, Syla looked out the back window again. Thus far, she hadn’t seen anyone on the road behind them, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that someone would come after them. As she’d been thinking earlier, she felt not like a royal heir but a criminal waiting for the authorities to catch up with her.
“I admit,” Tibby said quietly, her gaze back toward her book though she didn’t seem to be reading now, “I understand why you thought of me for this mission—I’m not sure how many engineers who were living in the city survived the attack—but I feel that I’m in over my head.”
“I’m in over my head too, but you can do this.” Syla felt strange encouraging her aunt when she was the younger and less experienced woman, but she did her best to smile and convey confidence. “We both can. Wehaveto.” Her smile faltered as she quietly added, “There’s nobody else left to.”
“No,” Tibby murmured, her eyes glistening behind her spectacles. She removed them and wiped her eyes and blew her nose.
Syla shifted to the other bench to sit beside her. Witnessing her aunt’s tears made her own emerge.
