“Wait.” As they’d spoken, Oyenar’s expression had shifted from one of confusion to one of enlightenment. Stunned and horrified enlightenment. “Are you talking about flooding the mine?”
Oyenar shook his head, though another thought must have occurred to him because he abruptly frowned down at the floor instead of objecting.
“Maybe it could be a last resort,” Syla suggested, “though if we didn’t startbeforethe stormers came, it would be hard to getit done in time after they arrived. Maybe Tibby could set up the drill and just go partway to the lake?”
Tibby, her chin in her hand, continued studying the maps and didn’t reply.
“I’m horrified at the thought of losing the mine,” Oyenar said, “but if we could lure enough high-ranking stormers, especially their damned riders, into it and trap them in the flood, that could be a hard enough blow to end the war.”
It was Syla’s turn for stunned horror, and she gripped the table for support. She hadn’t been thinking of trying to trap anyone—todrownanyone. Just flood the mine so that the shielder chamber would be inaccessible when the stormers arrived. Even with enhanced magic, their riders surely couldn’t hold their breath long enough to swim far enough to reach it. Besides, if the salt pillars dissolved, the water would collapse the mine after flooding it. This would deny access to the shielder for generations to come—if not forever—and it could continue to operate, undisturbed by enemies.
“General Jhiton leads most of the battles personally,” Oyenar mused, “and I bet he’ll have Captain Vorik with him and a number of other high-ranking riders. Maybe some of their Storm Guard leaders too. I don’t think they’ll have a map, so they won’t know where to search. They might bring numerous parties down there. And the silver-haired woman. Captain Lesva. Ifshe’scaught down there, all the better. Of course, I need to get Abrya backbeforethe stormers drag her down there. Gods.” Oyenar swore and sat in a chair. “We can’t start this until… There can’t be any chance of my wife being trapped down there.”
Syla had felt the warmth drain from her face—maybe her entire body—at the mention of Vorik, and she immediately thought she would have to find a way to warn him. But she couldn’t, could she? If she did, he would warn Jhiton and the rest of the stormers. He would have to. They were his people.
“I think we should just flood the mine to deny access to the shielder,” Syla said. “It would be a permanent way to keep it safe. That’s better than moving it to another locale where it could be found.”
“Ithink we should lure as many of the bastards down there as we can,” Oyenar said, “and drown them like rats in a monsoon.”
“Perhaps,” Tibby said, raising a finger, “we should determine if either scenario is feasible. I need to do some calculations on the volume of space in the mines based on these maps and how much water is likely in the lake. The water would flow down to the deepest levels first. It might leave the stormers in a dry tunnel. At the least, they would see the water flowing past and have time to escape while it fills the lower levels.”
“We could seal access to the lower levels. The lift cage shaft is the only way down to them.” Oyenar’s eyes lit.
“The walls, floors, and ceilings are made from salt,” Tibby reminded him. “The water would eventually erode it all away.”
“Eventually,” Oyenar said. “Like a snow melt after a great Frost Island storm, it wouldn’t happen right away.”
“No.”
“It doesn’t take men long to drown.” Oyenar pointed at the top of the cross-section map. “We could set explosives at the entrance of that shaft as well. Bury it once the stormers are down there. The only way out would be through the hole you drilled, and with the water coming down, they wouldn’t be able to climb out against the current, right?”
“That’s… right.” Tibby’s face had gone pale. Tibby, who’d once suggested poisoning Vorik and had informed Syla how rational she was, didn’t have the stomach for his plan.
Syla shook her head, not liking it either and regretted that she’d planted the seed.
But Oyenar pumped his fist. “I’ll get those bastards back for killing my people, destroying my palace, and kidnappingmywife. I’ll send teams to prepare the explosives and load materials to block off the lower levels, and Lady Tibaytha, we’ll take you to the mine to set up your drill. Syla—will you look for Abrya? From your dragon’s back, please? We have to get her away from that stormer woman before we can do any of this.”
Since her nemesis, Captain Lesva, would bewithAbrya, Syla wanted to shake her head and sayno, but they had to get her back. Tactically speaking, it would also be ideal to deny the stormers a prisoner with a moon-mark to open the chamber.
“I will search for her, yes.” Maybe Syla should have felt guilt, not relief, that she wouldn’t have to set up what might be, if it came to pass, the largest—and potentially most deadly—booby-trap in history, but she didn’t want to help with that. If they found Abrya and dealt with Lesva, she told herself, it might not be necessary. Or they could go with her original idea of drowning only the impervious shielder artifact. “Yes,” she repeated, nodding to herself.
Next to her, Tibby, whodidneed to participate in the set-up, did not nod. She was still pale. Even she must not have been able to summon the desire to kill stormers en masse.
But Oyenar, so freshly angered and affronted, had no quibbles. He gripped Tibby’s shoulder and pointed her toward the door.
“Come,” he told them both. “The stormers already have spies—saboteurs andkidnappers—on this island. We’ll have to move carefully and quickly.Veryquickly.”
25
An hourbefore the Sixteen Talons would fly to Bogberry Island for the invasion, in a small clearing near the cave, Vorik sparred with a couple of riders in his squadron. He needed to burn off nervous energy and also wanted to make sure his skills were at their sharpest.
When Jhiton walked over, having finished a run and exercise routine of his own, Vorik thought little of it, assuming his brother also wanted to spar. And Jhiton saluted him with his swords, an invitation to practice, but only a few minutes into their match—a less heated battle than they’d shared on the top of the bluff—Jhiton spoke telepathically to him.
We need to discuss something.
Vorik paused and lowered his sword and dagger.Unless it’s about blueberries, blackberries, or cobblers made from the fruit, I doubt I want to partake.
It is about your role in the upcoming battle.
