Destroying Syla’s means of defending the island in the absence of a shield struck him as terrible, but one wasn’t supposed to beniceduring war. And the thing could killdragons. At least the shielders only kept dragons out. That weapons platform was dreadful.
Bring her to our new camp,Jhiton said,and I’ll ensure she’s kept alive.
His back still to the wall, Vorik propped his arms on his knees and laced his fingers together to rest his chin on them. Hedidn’t like the idea of taking Syla anywhere near Lesva. But what was the alternative? To stay here in this cell? To escape but not return to his people? To walk away from his tribe and his family and friends? All that he was?
Somewhere along the way, that thought had become less undesirable than the thought of hurting Syla. Or causing her to be hurt—or killed. But he couldn’t…
Clanks and voices sounded in the corridor.
Undecided about what he would do, Vorik rose to his feet. The lock turned, and the door opened. Two soldiers he didn’t recognize stepped inside, and more filled the corridor. Numerous weapons were pointed in Vorik’s direction. He peered hopefully through the doorway, wanting to see Syla, even though she was at the center of his conflict.
“Step outside, stormer.” One guard jerked his chin toward the corridor. “You’re to be questioned.”
“By Queen Syla? Or a master interrogator?”
“Queensdon’t question prisoners.” The soldier noticed the broken chains. “Storm-cursed bastard, what happened to your shackles?”
“Oh, these?” Vorik held up his wrists so the broken chains clanked. “They fell apart. Shoddy workmanship. You’ll probably want to have the smith who forged them flogged.”
The soldier licked his lips, eyeing Vorik more nervously, but he pointed his chin toward the corridor again. “Come on.”
Eight armed men accompanied Vorik through the bowels of the ship. He didn’t try to escape, more because of Wreylith’s ongoing presence than because of the troops. Besides, he wanted to see Syla again before he decided what to do. As silly as it was, he wished he could speak with her about his conundrum and that she could be a confidante instead of an enemy, instead of the woman he was supposed to kidnap.
“Go get some more shackles, Uzarik,” one of the soldiers said. “Ones with thicker chains.”
“Yes, sir.”
Vorik’s escort deposited him in a large cabin, one that had to belong to an officer. It had two portholes, a spacious bunk, and a desk that held?—
He halted by the doorway, groaning as a familiar scent wafted over him. The thick green wax pillars weren’tlit, butafter his last experience with Candles of Serenity, he recognized them immediately. Even unlit, he could pick up the scents of eucalyptus and whatever was in there that had the power to knock a man unconscious.
Beside the candles rested several vials and a couple of small ceramic jars, all secured in a holder attached to the desk so they wouldn’t slide off. With a start, Vorik stared at one of the smaller jars. He couldn’t read the runes labeling it, but it appeared identical to the one that Jhiton had pulled from a pocket and that held hydra-scale powder. Dread crept into him.
Could Syla also have brought backsouvenirsfrom the storm god’s laboratory? Of course. More than once, she’d mentioned her collections of items related to medicine and herbalism. A truth drug from a past era would qualify as an intriguing find.
Was her plan to semi-sedate him, hoping that would render him more susceptible to imbibing the hydra-scale powder in a beverage? That… might work.
Vorik frowned. He would prefer torture to being drugged. He’d been injured often enough in his life to have learned to endure physical pain and grit his teeth through questioning. But Syla wouldn’t order him hurt. She cared for him. And he appreciated that. But this… this would be painful too. Maybemorepainful. If he betrayed his people, it wouldn’t matter how it had been accomplished.
Vorik sorted through the information in his head. Did heknowenough to betray his people?
He knew about the plan to take over Bogberry Island next. He also knew the location of the new camp where the shielder components had been taken. Most likely, that was what Syla wanted to know, but his entire tribe would be in that camp. If she sent ships full of military men to it, women and children could be in danger, especially if the Sixteen Talons squadronsand all their dragon allies were busy hundreds of miles away on Bogberry Island.
Vorik shook his head bleakly. Yes, he knew enough to be a threat to his people. He couldn’t babble.
He eyed the candles, then a porthole, and was on the verge of seeing if the glass would open so he could chuck everything into the sea. But the door creaked, and he swung about. A barrage of troops entered, one man carrying fresh wrist shackles. Vorik glimpsed the side of someone in a yellow dress. Syla? That looked like the curve of her hip, but another woman’s voice floated in from the corridor.
“Use the powder to find out what his people are up to next and where they’re lurking right now,” the speaker whispered. It sounded like the aunt. Tibby. Had she come along on a military mission? That was surprising, but Syla also shouldn’t have put herself into such a dangerous situation. They must have both come to ensure the storm-cursed weapons platform would work. “Where are the components for the shielder? He’ll know. I’m ready to get to work on that as soon as I have them. And are there stormers still on Harvest Island?” Tibby added. “Are they plotting something else? Get what you can out of him, then knock him out so he can’t break any more shackles.”
“Knock him out and throw him overboard,” the gruff Sergeant Fel added from somewhere out of sight.
The soldier with the shackles left the broken bands on Vorik’s wrists and ankles, pinching skin as he tried to maneuver the new set of irons into place. It didn’t work, and he was forced to unlock the others. Feeling quite patient and accommodating, Vorik stood with his arms out while he listened to the conversation, wanting to hear Syla chime in with her thoughts on what should be done to him.
In the cell, she’d thanked him for saving her life and had wanted to have sex with him. He had little doubt about that. Buttime had passed, and if this was her cabin… she’d clearly chosen items for his interrogation.
He couldn’t blame her. They were at war. It would be far wiser for her to interrogate him than have sex with him. But if he got an opportunity to seduce her and distract her from questioning him, he would do his best to do so.
“Wreylith says the stormers and their dragons are in caves by the volcano,” Syla said. “Only Agrevlari is closer to us, probably hoping for a chance to rescue Vorik.”
