“Throwing explosives in a mine doesn’t seem wise,” Fel grumbled, eyeing the dark depths above them. If not for the earlier explosions with the flashes of light, they wouldn’t even know where the ceiling was up there.
“Don’t aim for the pillars.” Tibby put her wagon into gear, and it rolled forward. “Aim for the rider captain’s chest.”
“Go with her,” Fel reminded the soldiers.
They glanced at Syla, as if torn between defending their queen and obeying orders.
“We’ll get more people down here,” Syla told them. “It’ll be fine.”
They hesitated, but Fel growled, and the men hurried to catch up and climb onto the wagon with Tibby. It heartened Syla that her aunt headed in the opposite direction from the shielderchamber—and the stormers lurking out there. But that might mean that Lesva knew exactly where the chamber was and had already gone that way, leaving these men behind to guard her back.
“I don’t think we havetimeto go up for reinforcements, Fel.” Syla no longer sensed the rider she had earlier and suspected all of the stormers had moved deeper into the mine. Closer to the hidden chamber. “If they get to the shielder and destroy it, the whole island will be lost. We have to stop them.” They also had to buy time for Tibby to drill.
“Let’s see how fast this wagon goes.” Fel surprised her by climbing into the cab, then leaning out the side to find something to prop his crossbow on so he could fire to the front.
Syla climbed in beside him, carefully tucking the bag of explosives under the control panel, then laid her hand on it. A couple of gauges and a small blue bulb flared to life, causing the wagon to hum with power. There were two levers to operate it, and Syla moved them experimentally. She’d never driven anything more magically or technologically advanced than a horse-drawn carriage and lamented that she hadn’t asked Tibby for a lesson. But her aunt’s wagon had already passed the lift cage, disappearing into the darkness on its way to a section of the mine under the lake.
“Do you know how to operate this, Fel?” Syla would gladly have moved over if he did.
“As your aunt would be quick to point out, my specialty is more destroying machinery than using it.” Despite the words, he pointed at a pedal on the floor. “Step on that?”
Syla did so, and the wagon surged forward with aker-thunkthat tipped it sideways for a moment, nearly throwing her into Fel. She glanced out the side of the cab and spotted a triangle of wood that had been under one of the tires to keep it in place.
“You’re more dangerous than the stormers.” Fel gripped the frame of the cab with his free hand without lowering his crossbow.
“Let’s hope that’s true.” Heart pounding, Syla figured out the steering and headed them in the direction the stormers had gone.
“Does it go faster?” Fel asked.
She experimented with the foot pedal, pressing it harder. The bulb flared brighter, and the wagon surged forward, carrying them rapidly between the great pillars and into the dark depths.
“Excellent,” Fel said. “We’ll run those bastards over.”
Syla knew Lesva would never be caught by machinery rolling toward her but whispered, “Let’s hope,” anyway.
Sodden from yet another swim in the sea, Vorik jogged through trees and brush, skirting bogs and creeks while trying to remain hidden from possible aerial observers. Agrevlari had flown him in from the eastern side of the island, where they’d passed numerous stormer dragons with riders, but neither Jhiton nor the chiefs had been among them, and nobody had questioned Vorik. Of course not. He was a captain and the general’s right-hand man.
“For now,” he murmured as he ran, leaping over logs and ferns, urgency making him a touch reckless. An intuition told him that he didn’t have much time, that Syla was in danger from more than whoever had taken over her castle—her kingdom.
A few eyebrows might have raised when Vorik had leaped from Agrevlari’s back and into the sea with only his weapons, but he hadn’t been the sole rider leaving a dragon to swim through the barrier. Now and then, he sensed others with magical powerand knew that more of his people were somewhere on the island, already on their mission. Several times, he ran in another direction to avoid them, and he lost his bearings somewhat since he’d never been to the area. Also, night had fallen, enshrouding the forest and hiding the bogs, many invisible beneath lily-like plants that covered inches of water. Since he was already wet, it hardly mattered when his boots sank in, other than that it slowed him down and irritated him.
A part of him wondered if he’d made a mistake in not heading to the city and the palace. Maybe he should have first checked there for Syla. But Agrevlari had said he sensed Wreylith inland, and Vorik’s gut told him that Syla would be with her dragon tonight.
He came to a wide lake that he’d only seen from above before and exhaled in relief, certain it was the body of water near the mine entrance. Yes, there were the fishing boats he’d seen in Agrevlari’s memory, not yet drawn in for the night. Was that odd? Vorik didn’t know. The freshwater lake appeared calm. Maybe the fishermen lived on their boats.
He’d only taken a few steps along the shoreline when he realized there were people swimming in the water, the night shrouding them but movement drawing his eye. And he sensed someone with magic among them. Was that Grilovar, one of the bonded riders from his squadron?
Vorik paused, trying to figure out why so many of his people—there had to be dozens—were swimming out to the boats. Then he remembered Jhiton contemplating stationing people on them to attack troops coming up the road.
A grunt and a cry of pain carried over the water from one of the boats. The noise was quickly squelched, save for a splash. Someone being thrown overboard?
Yes, stormers were swarming out of the water and onto the boats. More splashes followed. Grim, Vorik had a feeling thatbodieswere being thrown overboard, not men. Jhiton wouldn’t want anyone to survive who could shout warnings that enemies had taken the lake.
Vorik continued along the shoreline until he reached a path angling toward the mine buildings. The lights from numerous lanterns were visible between the trees ahead, and he suspected some troops had arrived before the boat takeover. Sticking to the shadows, he walked toward the buildings. Voices sounded, and horses attached to wagons whinnied.
Hearing troops checking the woods not far from him, Vorik had to slow down as he approached one of the wooden buildings. A wide door was open with rail tracks coming out of it. The access point to the mine had to be inside of the building. Unfortunately, numerous soldiers were stationed in front of it, and it did indeed look like wagons of more men had just arrived. Even as Vorik watched, troops jumped out, adding to the numbers he would have to somehow get past if he meant to enter the mine. But was Syla down there? Or up above? He didn’t know.
The soldiers were calm, ready to do battle. They didn’t seem to yet know what was going on at the lake. Many looked toward the forest, as if they expected Jhiton’s forces to rush straight out of the woods and toward the mine entrance. Eventually, maybe the stormers would if that was the only way down.
