“He probably has orders to steal or destroy the shielder, and she was going to lead him right to it.” The man didn’t spit with disgust, but his expression conveyed the feeling nonetheless.
Syla’s cheeks warmed, even though she’d had no intention of doing that. She’d been trying to getridof Vorik.
But not doing a good job of it, she admitted to herself.
“Why didn’t he kidnap you again?” another enforcer asked. “Especially if he got your bodyguard?”
“He was questioning me, but then he saw your carriage coming in the distance.”
The man swore. “That means he’s close. He wasjusthere.”
Syla nodded, almost wishing Vorikwerethere. Even without his dragon, he had the power to drive these men off or at least keep them busy so she could find the shielder. Except, she reminded herself, he wasn’t an ally. For the sake of her mission, she ought to wish that he’d fallen from that cliff and been swept out to sea.
Thunder rumbled again.
“Let’s take her back.” One man opened the door in the armored carriage for her. “That’s most important. If riders are skulking around out here… Well, we’ll warn the lieutenant, and he can decide if men need to be sent back out to hunt for them.” In a mutter, he added, “Hopefully after the rain stops.”
Another soldier waved toward the gray sky. “The gods aren’t happy with the riders, and they’re taking it out on us.”
“The gods forsook us long ago.”
Syla let the enforcers guide her into the carriage, noting the thick metal walls and the bars on the window in the door. Even though escaping from the rain had some appeal, she wasn’t pleased by the situation. Especially when the door shut, and athunksounded. The lock turning.
She had been demoted from princess to prisoner.
28
Syla squeezedwater out of her robe, leaving a puddle on the floor and the hard bench of the armored carriage as it trundled back the way it had come. Outside, the rain had lessened, but the sky remained gray. Ominous. Even though the air wasn’t cold, the metal box had a chill to it that made Syla wish for a towel and a change of clothing.
Her enforcer escort had collected the horses and carriage that she, Fel, and Tibby had driven from the temple. If those two couldn’t find the shielder and signal Tibby’s engineering ally to come with a ship, they would have a long walk back to civilization.
At least the enforcers hadn’t found them. Syla didn’t know if they’d fully believed her story that she’dlostFel, but, perhaps deterred by the rain, they hadn’t searched for him.
The lock clicked, and one of the enforcers opened the door. Startled, Syla stared at him. The carriage was in motion, and he rode beside it. He swung off his horse to enter, then closed the door behind him, a sword in a scabbard clunking on the metal bench as he shifted it on his belt, then sat opposite Syla.
“I’m Sergeant Tunnok, Your Highness. Son of Minor Lord Arvon of the Bogberry Tunnoks.”
That was one of the original founding families of Harvest Island, Syla recalled, and numerous men and women from that line had been chosen to govern here, but Syla didn’t know much about the clan, other than that they owned a lot of orchards and, of course, bogs.
“Good afternoon, Sergeant. Are any of your men in need of healing? I’ve a knack for it.” Syla smiled politely, not wanting them to have a reason to resent her or go along with a plot toget rid ofher. It also crossed her mind that, if any did need and want healing, it might be an opportunity to magically gain an ally or two. At least temporarily.
Tunnok sat back, studying her, and didn’t answer right away.
“Doyouneed healing?” she offered.
“I’d heard that King Blaylok’s youngest served in a temple and is a strong healer.”
Syla chewed on her lip, wondering what it meant that he referenced her father, who’d passed five years ago, instead ofQueenLia, her mother, who’d been ruling since then. Maybe he’d been loyal to the king but hadn’t transferred that feeling to the queen? Both of her parents were descended from those original people chosen by the gods to carry the moon-mark and lead the kingdom, so they’d had equal right to rule, at least according to the divine laws, but people didn’t always see things that way.
With both now passed, it probably didn’t matter. Syla swallowed and looked out the window, tamping down emotions that welled in her chest. This wasn’t a safe place to reveal her feelings.
“That’s correct,” she said.
“Lord Ravoran thinks you came here to take our shielder.” Tunnok waved in the direction of the volcano.
“To make sure it isn’t being sabotaged as we speak by riders. We also seek to study it to see if a schematic could be made andtaken back to Castle Island to help us repairourshielder. It still has some power, you see. I’m hoping it can be fixed.”
“You, a healer, know how to make a schematic of a magical item?” Tunnok didn’t addof anything, but his skepticism implied it.
