A loudkerthunkaccompanied a lurch that tilted the carriage sideways amid scraping noises. Bumps, jolts, and gravity sent Syla sliding into the door, with Teyla, Vonla,andthe Royal Protectors crushing against her. A lot more than anelbowjabbed her. She gasped as the carriage came to a stop.
“What happened?” one of the Royal Protectors asked, pushing himself away from the door.
“I think the wheel finally fell off,” Teyla said.
“We have to get to the glassworks.” As soon as the others shifted off her, Syla opened the door.
“I’ll go first, Your Majesty.” One of the Royal Protectors leaned over to grip her shoulder and keep her from exiting, though gravity almost sent Syla tumbling into the street anyway.
Vonla was the first one to slip out, landing on her feet with her sword in hand as she looked all around. Syla tried to climb out after her, but both Royal Protectors eased her aside to ensure they went out first. At least they seemed loyal to her. It had been some time since one of her own people had tried to assassinate her.
“Not that such things will matter if the crews of those warships find me,” Syla muttered, finally able to climb out with Teyla, who also landed with her sword in hand.
Other than a few street vendors and pedestrians gaping at them, the area was surprisingly calm, not conveying the urgency that Syla felt after seeing all those ships. And Fel’s flare.
“This way, Your Majesty.” Vonla jogged away from the carriage.
Syla realized this was the road leading to the glassworks. With the Royal Protectors on either side, she, Teyla, and Celena followed Vonla, leaving the coachman to tend the horses. Nobody intercepted them as they ran toward the glassworks. The large carriage doors on the side of the building stood open with Tabuvar leaning against the frame and looking down thestreet perpendicular to theirs, one that led in the direction of the harbor.
“Where’s Aunt Tibby?” Syla called when Tabuvar noticed them coming.
He pointed down the side street. “Right there.” He must not have seen the crash of their carriage or have learned about the warships in the harbor because he sounded calm. Even amused. “Hoping the way is downhill all the way to the docks.”
His words made sense as soon as Syla reached the intersection. Aunt Tibby and a gangly apprentice wearing an apron with the glassworks name on it were pushing a huge sphere wrapped in canvas down the center of the street. Twine crisscrossed it in dozens of places, holding the canvas in place like a giant Winterberry Festival package.
That could only be the shielder artifact. Had Tibby completed it?
Syla couldn’t sense any magic from a block away, but she remembered that the artifacts didn’t give off much of a signature when they were dormant.
“Your bodyguard is getting a wagon, I believe,” Tabuvar told Syla, “but he’s been gone longer than Lady Tibby expected. She decided to start pushing it on her own.”
“Fel must have seen the warships. Tibby can’t push it to the harbor, or the fleet will get it. We have to go back to that cove.” Syla recalled the road out of town and how it went uphill for at least a mile before flattening out for another mile or two before turning downhill into the cove. “We’ll need a wagon. Alargewagon.”
Syla lifted a hand, intending to call to Tibby, but two enforcers in gray uniforms ran into an intersection a block ahead of the sphere. They paused and gaped, first at Tibby and her wrapped load, but then they spotted Syla. Their eyes widened with recognition, and, too late, she thought of springing into theglassworks building to avoid being seen. The enforcers waved and called to someone out of sight back on the street they’d been patrolling.
“Look out, Aunt Tibby!”
“Defend the queen,” Vonla barked at the two Royal Protectors, then ran toward the enforcers.
“Get inside,” Tabuvar called to Celena, Syla, and Teyla.
Two fleet soldiers joined the enforcers, and the troops ran up the street toward the wrapped shielder. Tibby’s pushing assistant darted into an alley, leaving her alone to try to maneuver the sphere. Syla didn’t have a weapon, and her instincts told her to obey Tabuvar and hide inside, but she couldn’t leave Tibby in the middle of the street with the very prize they’d fought for weeks to be able to construct. Vonla had almost reached Tibby, but she couldn’t fight four armed men by herself.
“We have to help guard my aunt,” Syla told the Royal Protectors, then hurried toward the sphere.
But the enforcers and soldiers didn’t attack Tibby. They ranpastthe sphere as they drew their weapons, with their eyes locked upon Syla.
“Stand down, men!” one of the Royal Protectors called. “This is yourqueen.”
“You should fall to your knees,” the other said.
“I’d settle for them putting their swords away,” Syla murmured.
The troops didn’t slow downorsheathe their weapons. They knew exactly who Syla was and clearly had orders to make sure she didn’t keep roaming the countryside, plotting against Lord Fograth.
Vonla intercepted the troops, engaging with one of the men in front while angling herself so the others couldn’t easily flankher. But only the soldier she attacked paid attention to her. The others continued on with zealous determination in their eyes.
A roar came from an alley before someone leaped out and attacked one of the enforcers. Fel had returned.
