"How do I verify your claim?" Kian asked.
"You don't."
"That's not acceptable."
"I don't care what you find acceptable." Navuh smiled pleasantly. "You know who I am. You know how I operate. Now ask yourself, would I leave my most precious possession, my only real bargaining chip with Annani, vulnerable to theft? Would I store it in a container that any fool with a hammer could break open?"
Kian didn't answer, but Navuh could see the wheels turning behind his eyes. The guy was smart enough to recognize the truth even if he didn't want to admit it.
"The booby-traps are real," Navuh continued. "The disarmament codes are not written anywhere and are stored only in my head. If you attempt to breach that enclosure without my cooperation, you will lose Khiann forever. Those are the facts. What you choose to do with them is your decision."
"You could be lying about the whole thing. The traps, the codes, even the very existence of Khiann and his companions in stasis could be a fabrication designed to get leverage."
"That's a logical fallacy, Kian, and you are smarter than that. My bargain explicitly specified that I will be freed only after Annanigets her mate back. If I don't help you get him, I don't get my freedom."
The silence stretched between them, thick and heavy. Navuh let it linger. He'd learned long ago that silence was often more powerful than words. It gave people time to imagine the worst, to talk themselves into corners, and to realize the full scope of their predicament.
In this case, it gave Kian time to realize the inescapable truth, but Navuh didn't have the patience to wait.
"I would have loved to watch you stew in your juices for a while," he said. "But time is of the essence, and you need to act fast. Any delay can mean the end of Khiann. In fact, you might be too late already, which is bad for you and bad for me."
Kian's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"
"Whoever is running things on the island now, which is probably Losham, has undoubtedly noticed the glass enclosure in my basement and wondered what I have inside."
"So?"
"So, if Losham decides to satisfy his curiosity and attempts to break into the enclosure without the necessary codes..." Navuh let the sentence trail off meaningfully.
Understanding dawned in Kian's eyes. "He would trigger the booby-trap."
"Exactly." Navuh let out a breath. "I designed the system to protect my leverage so it could not be stolen away from me, the precise way you planned to do it. The problem is that I never anticipated being taken off the island and imprisoned by the clan while Losham poked around in my basement. So, you see, mydear Kian, we need to work together for each of us to achieve his objective."
Kian dropped his pretense of doubt. "How long do we have?"
"I have no idea. It depends on how curious Losham is and how quickly he grows frustrated with whatever methods he's already tried." Navuh paused. "Knowing him, he's probably been attempting to breach it since shortly after my capture. If he hasn't triggered the failsafe yet, it's only because the special materials the box was built from have proven more resistant than he expected."
"How long will it hold?"
"The glass is treated to resist cutting, drilling, and extreme heat. It won't shatter under direct impact either. But with persistence and the right tools, he will eventually succeed and trigger the booby-trap.
"So, here we are." Navuh gestured at his paralyzed legs beneath the thin hospital blanket. "You need me. I need my freedom. And we need to work together to beat Losham to the task."
"Tell me something," Kian said. "Have you been transporting Khiann and his companions from one stronghold to another throughout the millennia?"
"No." Navuh saw no reason to lie about this. The truth served his purposes just as well. "For most of those five thousand years, Khiann and his companions remained exactly where the earthquake left them—buried in the desert in stasis." Navuh settled more comfortably against his pillows. Telling Kian cost him nothing, and it reinforced his claim. "When the earthquake struck, Khiann and four of his immortal companions, along with all the humans in their caravan, were buried under tons of sandand rock. The humans died, but the god and the immortals entered stasis. My father knew where they were. He was there shortly after it happened, before the desert swallowed the last of the evidence. He'd intended to kill Khiann himself, to punish Annani for humiliating him, but the earthquake robbed him of that satisfaction. Digging them out just to finish the job seemed like too much trouble, so he just left them there."
"He told you where they were?"
"He didn't have to. He used the flyer, which kept a travel log. I wrote down the coordinates." He smiled. "At the time, I couldn't have foreseen what I would do with them, but the Fates must have whispered in my ear and prompted me to do it."
Kian grimaced. "The Fates work in mysterious ways. I guess they used you to save Khiann, but did they know that it would take five thousand years for you to finally reveal what you knew to Annani?"
Navuh shrugged. "The Fates' tapestry is vast, and the threads they weave span thousands of years."
"So philosophical." Kian crossed his arms over his chest. "Didn't take you for the type."
"You'd be surprised. Perhaps you should come to chat with me more often."
