Lanterns came into view ahead, several castle troops heading straight toward him. He eased near the wall so that his silhouette wouldn’t be visible in front of the light of the lantern of the intersection behind him.
“They’re down here,” one man snarled. “We’ll find them.”
How had Syla and Fel evaded the troops? Or had Syla seen them but commanded them to let her continue on her own? Vorik hadn’t yet figured out how in charge she was. The general hadn’t bowed to her, but the staff had. And, of course, her bodyguard remained faithful.
Vorik started to back away, but two stormers stepped into the lit intersection behind him. The soldiers spotted them, one barking an order to charge.
Caught in the middle, Vorik would have to reveal himself, joining his side. Or…
He glanced up at the arched ceiling, then sprang, twisting in the air as he thrust his legs and hands out. His boots caught one side of the wall as his fingers pressed into the other. He spider-walked himself up into the shadows as the soldiers ran past underneath him.
Clangs sounded as they engaged with the stormers. Vorik’s people were outnumbered, and he debated dropping down to join them, evening the odds by attacking the soldiers from behind, but a feminine gasp sounded in the distance. More clangs followed it, originating in the same place. The shielder chamber lay in that direction.
Vorik scooted farther along the ceiling to get away from the skirmish, then dropped and ran toward where the gasp had come from. He rounded a bend, where a couple of lanterns on the walls had been lit, and glimpsed a chamber at the far end of the tunnel. From his previous trip, he knew that it was one of several below the castle that held sarcophagi and that the hidden passageway opened from a side wall before the tunnel reached the chamber.
That passageway stood open, silver light similar to moonlight flowing out. The sounds of a fight, metal striking metal—or maybe gargoyle-bone blade—came from beyond the secret door, but someone already lay crumpled on the ground. Sandaled feet and the hem of a dress stuck out of the passageway. The person wasn’t moving.
“Syla?” Vorik whispered, fear and concern surging through him.
What had she been wearing on her feet? He didn’t remember. He’d looked her up and down but had been distracted by the curves of her body and hadn’t paid attention to her footwear. Shehadbeen wearing a dress.
Forgetting to be quiet and wary, that other threats were in the tunnels, Vorik sprinted toward the fallen woman. Hedoubted Jhiton would have killed her, not while they needed her moon-mark, but one of his subordinates, not realizing her value, might have made that mistake.
He’d almost reached the hidden passageway when someone in black leather strode out of the burial chamber at the end of the tunnel. Jhiton. Two riders walked behind him, all three men with swords drawn as they strode with determination toward the hidden doorway.
Vorik slowed, confused about where they’d come from. That burial chamber was a dead-end, wasn’t it?
Only when shadows moved behind Jhiton and the other two men—Lieutenants Garblon and Hix—did Vorik spot a hole that had been blown into the wall between two tombs.Thatwas how his people had gotten into the tunnel system this time.
Though Vorik was still confused, because his sense of direction promised they weren’t anywhere near the bluff, he didn’t have time to ask about the excavation. Face set with determination, Jhiton didn’t hesitate when he spotted Vorik. With his twin swords in hand, he strode straight into the tunnel and toward the shielder chamber.
6
Syla duckedout of the way as Fel battled one of the two stormers they’d found when they rushed past her crumpled cousin, Teyla, and into the shielder chamber. There hadn’t been time to check if Teyla was dead or simply unconscious. How the stormers had found her and dragged her down to use her moon-mark to open the door, Syla had no idea, but she couldn’t worry about that now.
Fel swung his mace, doing his best to battle an agile young stormer with a fresh burn on half his face. Syla hoped one of her aunt’s booby traps had been responsible and that it hurt. Alot.
“You’ll not attack the princess,” Fel snarled as their weapons clanged together.
But the stormer wasn’t trying to get to Syla. Neither was the second man. This time, when she and Fel had rushed in, the two invaders had been in the process of shoving the broken shielder toward the door and examining the mounted and operating one. Probably trying to detect and remove the camouflaged traps.
One stormer had turned to defend against Fel’s attack, but the other was only glancing at Syla as he pulled scrolls out of anook in the stone wall. Were those the same scrolls that Aunt Tibby had brought from Harvest Island and had been studying?
Syla wouldn’t let him get away with them—withanything. Though she had no weapon, she dodged the fight and rushed toward the stormer. “Release those scrolls, you thief.”
He started to reach for a dagger sheathed on his belt, but then looked dismissively at her and didn’t draw the weapon. In her dress and with her hair swept up to greet the diplomatic party, she couldn’t look like a threat. Let him believe that.
Syla gripped his arm and summoned her power, the power she’d trained from an early age to use for healing. But twice before, she’d used it to attack, and, as the back of her hand tingled and the moon-mark flared silver, she willed its energy to flow into the intruder.
“Back off, princess,” the stormer said, “if you want to live another day.”
“Tie her up,” the man battling Fel said. “The general will want her for a prisoner. They’ll negotiate a lot more if we’ve got their heir.”
“You’ll not touch her,” Fel snarled and increased the speed of his attacks. His mace almost took off his foe’s head as the half-distracted stormer barely ducked in time.
Syla did notback off. As the stormer reached for her with his free hand, she sent her magic toward his trachea, the airway that allowed precious air to flow into his body. At the same time, she tightened her power around his heart, clenching the beating muscle.
He froze, his expression at first stunned and then… afraid. His face grew ashen.
