“We’re not a priority at all,” Ravoran snapped. “You’re already preparing to leave.”
“Not for long.”
“Those stormeranimalshave not only been stealing but have been killing our people. Gleefully. And their dragons enjoy hunting them down. I demand you return our shielder. Your sister is the one who let yours be sabotaged, isn’t she? That’s notourfault. Your family screwed up. You and your island need to deal with the consequences.”
“Do you know how many dragons and stormer ships we might face, Your Majesty?” Hixun called—he’d waved the fleet commander on board and was speaking to him now. “Should we take all of our ships or only some?”
Ravoran reached for Syla. “You’re not going anywhere until you return our shielder.”
Had Fel been at her side, he would have blocked Ravoran, but she’d left her interim bodyguard figuring out how to get Vorik back in his cell, and there was nobody nearby to spring to her defense. Syla lifted her hand and gripped Ravoran’s wrist as he reached for her shoulder. Despite his age, he was bigger and stronger and didn’t hesitate to grab her. But she hadn’t been trying to deflect the blow, just touch him. She didn’t want to hurt him—not when he was right to defend his people and understandably felt betrayed—but she willed her power to come to her, to warn him that she wasn’t defenseless, that he couldn’t hurt her or throw her overboard. Who knew what the red-faced man had in mind?
The moon-mark on the back of her hand thrummed and glowed silver, and power slid easily out of her and into him, a tendril that locked around his wrist but also shot down through his body to his legs, to the nerves that instructed his muscles on how to ambulate him. He halted abruptly, anchored, and his eyes widened.
The moon-mark on the back ofhishand also glowed, a reminder that he was also descended from those early people that the gods had shared their gift with, and she braced herself in case he could use his power to counter hers. But his flare died down as quickly as it had come. Her hand flared brighter, and he glanced at it.
“You’re more than a healer,” he whispered.
“I’ve had to become more.”
Releasing him from her power, Syla stepped back. She didn’t want to threaten a man who had, for a decade, loyally served her mother and her father before that. All she needed was his cooperation, or at least for him not to fight her.
“Major Hixun,” Syla called without looking away from Ravoran. “Take the island lord to a private cabin where I can talk to him later.” She had no desire to do that but felt compelled to hear him out fully. Once the fleet was underway and she learned what Aunt Tibby wanted.
“Yes, Your Majesty.” Hixun saluted her, then ordered a couple of men to escort Ravoran and the refugees below.
Syla let out a slow breath, trying to will some of the tension out of her shoulders, but there was too much to be tense about. Her muscles wouldn’t unwind.
“What did you do?” Tibby waved to Syla’s hand and watched as the lord headed below.
Since Tibby hadn’t been around on the previous occasions when Syla had used her power to attack enemies, she didn’t know that Syla had learned to use her healing magic to hurt people. Even to kill a man. That had been an assassin, and Syla had acted to defend her own life, but her action that day haunted her. She’d never wanted the power to kill a man.
“I’ve been forced to pick up a few new ways to use my magic,” was all she said, then pointed to Tibby’s book, hoping to distract her from asking further questions on the topic. “What did you learn?”
Before Tibby could answer, Major Hixun jogged up. “The fleet commander believes all the warships should stay together, Your Majesty. Unless you disagree? We’re worried that if we leave some of our forces here, without the protection of the weapons platform, that stormer dragons will return to sink the ships. Even though we’d prefer to keep Harvest Island fromfalling again to them… we don’t feel that we have a choice. That’s theonlything that’s been effective against their kind.”
“I understand, and I don’t disagree.” Syla almost asked him not to tell Ravoran that they would be leaving his island defenseless, but she would feel duty-bound to report that to him herself. Even if she dreaded it. She had to face the consequences of her choices—the anger of people hurt by them. Her parents had never mentioned how emotionally difficult it was to lead, how much she would long for her simple life in the temple.
The major saluted her again, then jogged away.
“When did the military men start deferring to you?” Tibby asked. “And including you in the decision making?”
“I…” Syla thought of the discussion she’d had with Hixun in the infirmary. “I guess some of them liked that I stayed on deck and fought with them yesterday.”
“That was foolish. You could have been killed.Iwent belowdecks, like a sane woman.”
“That’s where engineers are supposed to go. But queens have different obligations. Especially a queen who is the only person who can operate an invaluable weapon.”
“You might not be for long. That’s what I wanted to talk about.”
“Oh?”
The small fleet set sail as Tibby led Syla to the weapons platform and stopped in front of the runes on the frame that Teyla had first pointed out back in the storm god’s laboratory.
“You’re able to read these, I trust,” Tibby said.
“Yes.” By now, Syla had them memorized. “One blessed by the gods and sworn to protect her people might call upon its power.”
“And this.” Tibby turned to a page she had marked with her finger.
