Chapter 27
Fel sat in the rain on the driver’s seat of the carriage, guiding the horses up a muddy road that wound past blueberry farms, hazelnut orchards, and raspberry thickets, crops the northern part of Harvest Island was known for.
Thanks to the weather, they passed few other people.
It also helped that they were heading away from the more populated side of the island and toward wilder lands.
Noon approached, and they’d left Lavaperch Temple miles behind, but that didn’t keep Syla from glancing out the back window of the carriage.
As Fel had suggested, the healers and guards had been distracted by Vorik’s escape, and their little group had been able to depart from the stable without anyone questioning them.
Before long, however, Syla would inevitably be missed.
As the carriage rocked and lurched, frequently caught in mud puddles before the horses could pull it out, Aunt Tibby sat on the bench across from Syla, a book she’d borrowed from her engineer friend open in her lap.
As Tibby had mentioned with chagrin numerous times, she’d lost her pack—and the tomes she’d brought—during the swim to shore.
The schematics and mathematical tables she studied now meant little to Syla, but she hoped the resource would help her aunt when they reached their destination.
Tibby placed her finger to hold her spot and lifted her gaze. “You weren’t in your room last night when I came by.”
“No, I was sewing up Vorik.”
“I suspected. At the dinner I told you about, I spoke privately to my comrade about transportation.”
“This isn’t it?” Syla waved at their carriage.
“This wobbly-wheeled carriage from the turn of the century? Fel dredged it out from under hay piles in the stable. I’m talking about transportation for the shielder.
Sea transportation. Do you have a plan for removing it and getting it out of whatever cave it’s ensconced in?
From what I’ve read, they’re quite large and heavy. ”
“They are, and I don’t have a plan for moving one, no, but I brought an engineer for a reason.” Syla smiled at her aunt.
“Ah, is that why you recruited me? I know it wasn’t for guidance in international relations.”
“If that’s your way of saying Vorik is a spy, I know.”
Tibby raised her eyebrows. “You’ve expressed doubts. Repeatedly. But the tale of the faction…”
“I did want to believe that, I’ll admit. He’s saved my life numerous times, so…” Syla shrugged.
“And he’s handsome. Especially when he smiles. And eats blackberry desserts.”
“I don’t care about that.” Eager to change the subject, Syla pointed at the book. “Is there anything in there that might be helpful?”
“Probably not, but I’m reminding myself of the hypotheses we currently have about how artifacts that were left for humans by the gods work.
The problem with studying them has always been that it’s rarely permitted to disassemble such invaluable tools, but that needs to be done to figure out how things work.
Still, a few mishaps throughout history, not with the shielders but with other artifacts, have given us some knowledge. ”
“There’s a reason the monarchs never allowed the shielders to be disassembled for study.”
“I know. Being without one has already proven disastrous. We are fortunate that the sun, moon, and earth gods cared enough to build such devices for us. They could have shrugged at the storm god’s antics and left us to fend for ourselves.”
“I suppose we’re lucky so many centuries have passed without something awful happening before.
” Wishing awfulness had waited another lifetime before striking, Syla looked out the back window again.
Thus far, she hadn’t seen anyone on the road behind them, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that someone would come after them.
As she’d been thinking earlier, she felt not like a royal heir but a criminal waiting for the authorities to catch up with her.
“I admit,” Tibby said quietly, her gaze back toward her book though she didn’t seem to be reading now, “I understand why you thought of me for this mission—I’m not sure how many engineers who were living in the city survived the attack—but I feel that I’m in over my head.”
“I’m in over my head too, but you can do this.” Syla felt strange encouraging her aunt when she was the younger and less experienced woman, but she did her best to smile and convey confidence. “We both can. We have to.” Her smile faltered as she quietly added, “There’s nobody else left to.”
“No,” Tibby murmured, her eyes glistening behind her spectacles. She removed them and wiped her eyes and blew her nose.
Syla shifted to the other bench to sit beside her. Witnessing her aunt’s tears made her own emerge.
Since the attack, she’d been so busy that she’d denied herself time to mourn, though she’d felt on the ragged edge of collapse all along.
Now, in this quieter moment, she and Tibby slumped against each other, tears falling, smudging the lenses of their spectacles.
Syla struggled to keep utter despair from creeping in.
Her aunt was right. This was so very, very hard.
She’d thought her years in the temple had taught her to deal with death and loss, but it was different when it was one’s own family. Even if she’d never been as close to her siblings as they had been to each other, losing so many of them at once… and Mother too. It was too much. Far too much.
Why had the gods let the stormers assassinate her entire family? It wasn’t fair.
While they cried, the carriage trundled on. Syla was glad for Fel looking over them. Maybe he was often surly, but he was indomitable and dependable too.
After a time, Syla wiped her face and returned to the opposite bench so she could more easily check the road behind them. Mourning was a luxury, and she didn’t know if it was one they could afford right now.
Tibby sighed, closed her book, and leaned forward, her elbows on her knees. Lowering her voice—as if there was anyone out here to overhear—she said, “I did arrange sea transportation for the shielder, assuming we can find a way to get it to the coast.”
“Oh?” Syla brightened with hope. “Through your engineer friend?”
“Yes. Sherrik.”
“Will fermentation equipment be involved?”
“No, but since he worked around the ports as a marine engineer, he has a number of acquaintances. He was confident he could get a ship for us. I did have to confide in him about our plan, but we can trust him. I didn’t think we could trust the temple leaders.”
“No. I didn’t tell them exactly what we plan, but they guessed it anyway. They’re not on our side.”
“That’s what I worried about,” Tibby said.
“Even if you’re the rightful ruler of the kingdom now, I doubt you’ll be able to wave your hand, especially here, and get what you need.
Even back home, I’m not certain. As I’m sure you’ve figured out, there are people who might prefer that you disappear along with all your siblings, thus opening up opportunities for someone else to claim the throne. ”
“If we can’t get a shielder over to Castle Island, there won’t be a throne to claim.” Syla hadn’t checked on that room in the castle and had no idea if the royal throne, which was rarely used in this modern era, had survived or if it was buried under rubble.
“I agree, but you’ll need to watch your back. As soon as we’re able to return, you should set about gathering trusted troops who will support you—and protect you from those who won’t. One surly retiree isn’t going to be sufficient.”
Syla smiled through the carriage wall in Fel’s direction. “He’s not always surly. Just when something hurts.”
That was admittedly most of the time. Poor guy. He deserved retirement.
Tibby issued a skeptical grunt, then fished in a new pack that she’d borrowed from someone at the temple.
“Sherrik gave me this.” Tibby held up a cylindrical rod with a pointed tip and a fuse.
Some kind of firework? Syla had seen similar devices around the Summer Solstice Celebration when they were lit off from the castle towers for all in the surrounding city to enjoy.
When they had been lit off. Would she be able to restore order—and safety—to the kingdom by the following summer so that the tradition could continue?
Her aunt’s words of people trying to get rid of her made her shoulders slump with weariness.
Unless one counted the various souls she’d healed in her life and who were grateful—whether magically induced or not—Syla hadn’t spent much time trying to win allies or create powerful relationships in the capital.
As her parents’ fifth child, she’d never guessed there would be a need.
“To signal someone?” Syla asked.
“Yes. Sherrik is going to attempt to get a transport vessel and some guard ships and have them waiting in one of the calmer coves along the north shore. He did mention that it would cost money, and we’d need to be able to pay the captains when we reach Castle Island.”
“I’ll sell my collection of medical antiques if need be,” Syla said before remembering that they were under rubble, likely destroyed along with Moon Watch Temple. Maybe something would be salvageable.
“You’ll have the right to draw upon the kingdom coffers.”
“Oh.” Syla knew vaguely where the vault in the castle was and that it took a moon-mark to access it, but she had no idea about the amount of funds within.
Her mother and the royal accountant had handled payroll and everything else financial related to running a kingdom.
With all the rebuilding that needed to be done, Syla doubted there would be a lot extra, but for this… “I’ll find a way to pay.”
They had to.
“That’s what I told him.” Tibby nodded. “We’ll have to get the shielder close enough to shore so that it can be loaded on a ship.”
“We’ll figure out something. A travois made from driftwood and kelp, if nothing else.”