“It’s been cookingforever.”
“If you whine, the cave crawlers will get you,” another woman said, a baby snuggled in her arms swaddled in a soft hide wrap. It gurgled happily while swatting at a braid of the woman’s hair.
“Or the dire vultures!” one of the boys who’d been playing in the ball game said. “I saw two earlier. One almost ate Tamuel.”
“Did not,” a boy who might have been his twin said. “Anyway, I can run faster than you. They’d pluck you up before me.”
“No chance.”
As Jhiton led Syla deeper into the cave, the conversation faded from her awareness, but she glanced thoughtfully back a couple of times. The powdered dayvak buds in her medical kit came to mind. Usually, the sedative wasn’t delivered en masse, but she knew it could be diluted in a liquid. Also, if it were mixed into a flavorful dish, the bitter taste might be masked, andHunt Night Soupsounded like something that might have a ritual aspect and be shared with all.
If she could figure out how to sprinkle herpowder into those shells…
Aware of Vorik watching her as they walked, she looked forward again and attempted to mask her thoughts. More than once, she’d thought hemight also have a slight knack for mind reading. He probably didn’t, but he was, at the least, attentive and intuitive.
The rock formations had made it difficult to see how far back the cave stretched, and they walked farther than Syla expected as it narrowed into a wide tunnel. The group passed the last of the campfires, but a few lanterns had been jammed into nooks in the rocks to provide light enough to see into side chambers. Some were empty, some had people sleeping in them—those who stoodsky watcherduty at night, perhaps?—and some held sacks of food or haunches of curing meat that hung from racks or were tied to stalactites to dangle.
Syla missed a step when she spotted crates of fruit and squashes sitting beside kegs of beer and ale with Kingdom labels painted on the fronts. She ground her teeth, though of course she’d known the stormers were taking food—stealingit—from Harvest Island. It was, after all, the reason they’d invaded and started a war.
She couldn’t keep from shooting an accusing look at Vorik. She expected it to result in a defiant or determined expression from him, but his green eyes were chagrined, maybe even regretful. He didn’t look away from her but might have wanted to. Of course, he was, as he’d told her and demonstrated, honorable. He probably agreed that his people needed to dosomethingto ensure they had food for the winter but wouldn’t support stealing from farmers who’d spent all season cultivating their crops and protecting them from pest insects and animals. His people might consider that less heroic thansky watchingbut surely as necessary.
A single soldier with a dagger and mace stood guard in front of a dark nook, yellow light from a lantern across the tunnelhighlighting his lean, stoic face. There weren’t any sources of illumination in the nook, so whatever was back there was hidden by darkness.
Syla didn’t give it more than the passing perusal that she’d granted the other nooks, because she didn’t want her captors to notice her interest, but her heart beat faster. A man wouldn’t stand guard in front of a chamber with nothing of importance in it. He had to be protecting the shielder components. He’d probably been placed there because of her arrival.
Jhiton turned into the next side nook. The tunnel continued deeper into the darkness, descending downward as it narrowed, but there weren’t any more lanterns in that direction. Nothing about it suggested it might lead to another exit. If Syla was to escape, she would have to go through the camp and out the front.
They clambered over uneven ground and past a few columns and stalagmites to find a small campfire with an aged woman sitting cross-legged in front of it. An older man lay on a blanket near her, but he departed when the group approached. Was the woman the healer that Jhiton had mentioned? Tending a patient? There were a few sacks near the side of the cave and jars made from pieces of horn or shell or carved from wood.
A tiny blue jar rested on the ground next to the healer, and Syla’s gut churned. She didn’t know how Vorik had gotten it here ahead of her, but it was the container that held hydra-scale powder. Or it was one identical to the jar Teyla had found. She supposed the stormers might also have hunted for treasures in the storm god’s laboratory before leaving the desert.
However the powder had arrived, it was here, and the stormers were ready to question her.
As soon as Syla walked in, the healer nodded and reached for a gourd of liquid. She swished it, opened the lid, and picked up the blue jar.
“You may go, Vorik,” Jhiton said.
Vorik stopped beside Syla, his shoulder brushing hers, and met his brother’s gaze. “I’m staying.”
Jhiton walked toward them, and Syla tensed. The general reached for her medical kit. She tensed further, her grip on it tightening. Though she didn’t know when she would find an opportunity to drop the Dayvak buds in the soup, it would never come if she didn’t have access to the kit.
“Release this,” Jhiton said. “Vorik will put it somewhere safe.”
“It’s my medical kit,” Syla said.
“I’m aware.” The cool look that Jhiton gave Vorik suggested he thought Vorik should already have relieved her of it. Maybe he had an inkling of the sharp tools—and drugs—inside.
“I’m not leaving her,” Vorik said quietly, the words not meant to carry to the healer. If he defied his brother occasionally, he probably didn’t do so in front of witnesses. “I promised her I wouldn’t let her be hurt.”
“And I told you that she won’t be hurt.” Jhiton stepped closer, his chest less than a foot from Syla.
Taller than his brother and just as lean and muscular, despite being at least ten years older, Jhiton exuded the power granted by his dragon bond. Even though Vorik exuded similar power, Jhiton was more intimidating.Hedidn’t smile at Syla with warm eyes, and she believed that if Vorik hadn’t been there, Jhiton would already have his hand around her throat, choking her as he used his magic to torture and question her in a similar manner to that Lesva had used. Maybe a more effective manner…
Though Syla reminded herself that she had power of her own that she could draw upon, that didn’t reassure her. She had to fight down the urge to step behind Vorik. Like dragons, stormers probably had more respect for people who faced them without fear. Or at least without giving in to their fear.
Behind Jhiton, the healer poured a large dose of powder into the gourd and swished it about. Syla found the preparations ominous. She’d managed to keep from sharing her secrets during Lesva’s interrogation, but if her mind was addled or weakened from a drug… By the eyes of the moon, what if her desire to get the magical components back turned into her betraying her people by giving up the locations of the shielders? She not only knew where the Bogberry Island artifact was but where theyallwere.
Dear gods, what had she been thinking? She was thelastperson who should have allowed herself to be captured by the enemy.
