“Couldn’t sleep, so I worked,” she said, her voice dazed.
I frowned. Was she worried about Korvin? Or was it something else?
Yarina peered over Nikella’s shoulder. “How can you read any of that? What’s that a drawing of?” She poked one of the sketches, smudging it.
Nikella whisked it away from her. “Ideas I had. For collapsing the mine.” She looked at me, a grim certainty in her eyes. “But we need to go to Twaryn for the materials.”
I grimaced. “It will take at least a week of hard riding to get to Twaryn, assuming we don’t run into any patrols. Or Korvin. The Shadow-Wolf ship is due to arrive in three.”
“Soldiers also created checkpoints along the river you’ll need to avoid as well,” Caddik added. “They make it bloody difficult to drive my livestock across for the markets. I wondered what they needed so much wood for. Warships,” he grumbled, draining the rest of his tea.
Nikella scribbled something else in her notes, her charcoal pencil worn almost to a nub.
Jek reached into his pocket and pulled out a fresh one. He handed it to her. “Here you go, love. Sharpened it this afternoon.”
She took it with a murmur of thanks and kept drawing.
Caddik seemed unsurprised by the interaction, like most of us, but Helene raised her eyebrows. She was probably used to the Teachers in Aquinon who kept to a strict code of behavior.
The cook—who seemed to be in a much more pleasant mood—placed a jug of water and a stack of cups on the table. Hisyoung assistant added a few bottles of wine. Smiling, Kiera and Isabel joined us. Nikella kept working while the rest of us poured our drinks.
Suddenly, she whipped around to Caddik. “How big are the log floats? How many workers?”
He blinked and rubbed his dirty hand over his balding head. “Ah, the logs are three times a man’s height, perhaps ten at a time lashed into a raft. One or two guards and four or five poor sods who look like prisoners. Shackles and whatnot, probably to keep them from jumping into the river.”
I scowled. Of course, they would use more prisoners to raft their timber.
“Wait,” I told Nikella. “You aren’t suggesting . . .”
She nodded. “I’ll need some way to smuggle in the explosives once I’ve created them. I can hollow out a log, like I did for my spear, and hide them inside. Then we just float them to the mine.”
“But we’d have to overtake a raft?—”
“And what of Skelly?” Sigrid interrupted. “Who’s alerting him to the plan?”
“We’ll have to split up,” Kiera said quietly.
Silence fell over the table. No one liked that idea, judging by their various grimaces. But Twaryn was in the opposite direction from Yargoth andMynastra’s Wings.
“We should split up anyway,” Nikella said, putting down her pencil. “Make it harder for Korvin to find us.”
Yarina scowled. “And make either party easier prey. I don’t like it.”
Jek shook his head. “Me either. We’re stronger together.”
“I go where Kiera and Aiden go,” Ruru announced, folding his arms over his chest.
We continued to argue as the cooks laid dishes of seared beef, fried peppers and onions, and potato bread in front of us. Eatingslowed the conversation. We still hadn’t reached an agreement by the end.
Idea after idea was thrown out. Hunting down Korvin ourselves. Sending one messenger to Skelly. And on and on.
Gods, it was much easier to make plans when I was working mostly alone. Had my father dealt with situations like this as king? Forever arguing with his High Council or settling disputes in the People’s Council. It was strange to imagine that I might have grown up learning how to handle those situations.
What would he think of me now?
I shook the thought loose. I’d never known my father. I’d never been a prince. I would not be king.
Making risky plans while on the run in a stranger’s kitchen with a mixed group of rebels? That I could do.
