A distant boom filtered through the layers of rock and earth. Had that come from the harbor? Syla hoped the fleet was firing on the stormers’ ship, but she had a feeling they had moved it out from under the barrier before sending their incursion team in. Still, her people’s ships might have gone out after it.
“Orders, sir?” Vorik watched Jhiton warily.
Jhiton looked up at the stone ceiling. Was his dragon up there? Flying over the barrier and warning him of something? He also looked at the man Syla had attacked earlier. The stormer straightened and lowered his hand from his throat, tapping a hip pouch. Jhiton’s gaze shifted to the shielder. He would have to go through Syla and Fel to reach it, but he was surely capable of that.
Tense, she moved her arms enough to remind him of the explosives. He already knew shewouldthrow them.
But if she did, and Jhiton and his men leaped away, something they would more easily do now that they weren’tdistracted by defending themselves, she wouldn’t have any other way to attack, to defend the shielder.
Maybe Jhiton believed exactly that because, despite more shouts—closershouts—in the tunnels, he raised his swords and strode toward Syla.
Fel lifted his mace, bracing himself to defend her. She lofted one of the explosives over his head toward Jhiton. As she’d predicted, he sprang to the side, not touching it with his sword this time. She tracked him and threw the other, hoping it would glance off him as he landed. But he anticipated her attack and threw one of his swords. It struck the closer explosive, keeping it from reaching him. It blew at the same time as the first hit the ground.
The shockwaves blasted through the chamber, the lids on the sarcophagi rattling. Fel stumbled back, bumping into Syla and knocking her to the ground. A shard of something sharp slammed into her thigh, and she gasped at the agonizing pain.
Rocks banged down in the tunnel. Only the magic imbued in the chamber kept it intact as everything shook and smoke flooded the air.
“That way!” soldiers yelled, closer now.
“Was that the shielder?”
Inside the chamber, the smoke cleared enough that Syla could see General Jhiton still on his feet. He’d already retrieved his sword. She tried to stand, but a sharp piece of rock embedded in her thigh made her grunt in pain as soon as she moved her leg. Fel groaned, also injured, and struggled to push himself to his knees.
His mace was on the ground between them. Syla grabbed it. Not worried in the least about her ability to hurt him with it, Jhiton strode toward her—her and the shielder. From the ground, she couldn’t protect it. She had to?—
Movement to the side made her jerk the mace that way, fearing another threat.
Vorik strode out of the smoke. At first, she thought he would grab her and heft her to her feet, maybe pull her away from the shielder so his general could destroy it. Instead…
Vorik stepped in front of her and blocked Jhiton from reaching her.
“Get out of the way, Vorik,” Jhiton said, his voice icy.
“We have to leave now if we’re to have any hope of escaping.” Without stepping from in front of Syla, Vorik pointed toward the passageway.
Judging by the shouts, more soldiers than before were coming. And the stormers were injured. Would Vorik be able to reason with his general?
Jhiton halted and looked at him. From the ground behind Vorik, Syla couldn’t see their expressions, but she did catch Vorik lifting his chin. Determined? Defiant?
Facing each other, Jhiton and Vorik stood still, holding gazes for what seemed minutes or hours but could only have been a couple of seconds.
More shouts from the tunnels spurred them to movement.
“Retreat,” Jhiton said quietly, then turned on his heel and led his men out.
Vorik went last, looking over his shoulder at Syla as he did. His expression was worried, but she didn’t know if it was for her or for his future among his people—with his brother—after defending her. Either way, he managed a quick half-smile and saluted her, the same as he had after the dragon battle over the whaling ship, before disappearing into the tunnel with his comrades.
With the rock shard stabbing her with pain, Syla let herself slump onto her back. The shielder remained in place, its powerprotecting the island, but soldiers lay dead all around them. She couldn’t feel like she’d won a battle.
7
With soldiers pounding downthe tunnel toward the shielder chamber, Vorik raced out after Jhiton and the others, his wounds making each step painful. He half-expected his brother to snap at him that he ought to stay and deal with the wrath of the gardeners since he was so fond of their princess. But Jhiton didn’t look back at him at all, merely leading his men down the tunnel and into the burial chamber with the freshly blown hole in the far wall.
A tunnel lay beyond that hole. When had his people carved it? And did it lead all the way to the bluff and the sea?
There wasn’t time for sightseeing, but Vorik couldn’t help but glance around, trying to figure how the stormers could have managed an excavation with a castle full of people above, people who would have heard explosions. Even if the hard rock had been chiseled, that would have made noise. And when could his people have done it? In the days after the invasion when the island hadn’t been protected and the castle dwellers had been distracted by repairs and funerals? It scarcely seemed enough time.
The tunnel didn’t go far before widening into a natural cave. Two Storm Guard soldiers rose from crouches to either side of the transition area, torches in their hands and kegs placed along both sides of the passageway.
