Chapter 20 #2
They’re here for her. It wasn’t a question.
Probably.
This was supposed to be our hidden camp and base of operations for the next few months.
Jhiton glanced at Syla, but her chin was still to her chest. She’d blinked away the moisture in her eyes, but her cheek ticked, as if she was struggling with herself.
No, she was struggling with the effects of the drug.
I shouldn’t have brought her here, Vorik said.
Another locale would have been safer. Jhiton misunderstood what Vorik had meant, that he shouldn’t have kidnapped her at all. But if you’d remained on Bogberry Island, her dragon would have eviscerated you.
That is true.
Jhiton stepped closer to Syla, drawing her gaze upward. “Where is the shielder on Bogberry Island?”
The muscle in Syla’s cheek ticked again. She shook her head.
“Have you moved the shielder on Castle Island?” Jhiton asked.
She opened her mouth, as if she wanted to answer, but managed to close it again without speaking.
“She’s losing her resolve,” Yavaron said. “Any moment now…”
Jhiton’s eyebrow twitched, and he glanced in the direction of the cave entrance again.
Concerned about the Freeborn Faction dragons?
Vorik thought Agrevlari and the others could keep them from finding this place, but a part of him wanted the dragons to arrive.
Then maybe, Syla could escape. Before being the instrument of her people’s ultimate demise. How would she live with that?
“Where is the shielder on Bogberry Island?” Jhiton repeated.
“I hope you fall into the deepest chasm in the storm god’s twisted lair and burn for all eternity,” Syla told him.
Jhiton slanted a long look at Yavaron, who could only spread her arms.
“Her moon-mark may defend her from this as much as it does from physical and magical interrogation,” Jhiton mused.
Hope crept into Syla’s eyes, but she looked like she didn’t know. She was feeling the effects of the drug in some way. Vorik could tell.
“Maybe try asking her something she has less built-in reticence about answering,” Yavaron suggested. “It may help along the process. Ask her something like her name or favorite color.”
Jhiton gazed at Syla. “Do you love Vorik?”
Syla blinked. So did Vorik, and he felt like he should punch Jhiton. But… he also caught himself leaning forward, wanting to know the answer.
“I…” Syla said. “Maybe,” she whispered, glancing back at him.
“That’s not her favorite color, General,” Yavaron said dryly.
Ignoring her, Jhiton glanced at Vorik. It crossed his mind that his brother might have thought to use Syla’s love to his advantage, if she’d admitted to it. Vorik scowled at him, glad she’d given a vague answer.
Unfazed, Jhiton asked Syla, “What’s your name?”
“Syla Moonmark.” As soon as the words came out, she frowned at him. Realizing she was answering the questions and not liking it?
Jhiton nodded. “Your favorite color?”
“Periwinkle. Did you know that I lobbied to have the healers’ robes for the Kingdom temples changed to that color?
The dark-blue ones are so drab. Our patients must think we’re personifications of death when we walk in.
That can’t put them in a good healing mood.
Periwinkle is so much perkier. Admittedly, it would be harder to clean.
People bleed on you sometimes, you know.
It’s not their fault, of course. The dark colors hide stains, I suppose.
Did you know that one of my second cousins is a chemist?
She uses the power of her moon-mark to study existing substances and combine them into new ones.
She wrote to me about a bleaching powder derived from…
I believe it was chlorine, yes, and said it could be used to get stains out of white materials, like sheets.
Maybe our robes could also be turned to white. ”
Jhiton hardly ever looked surprised, and that wasn’t the precise expression he wore now, but his mouth drooped farther and farther open as Syla continued.
Vorik smiled, having heard her go on about something she was passionate about a couple of times, though this was probably induced by the drug.
Maybe lowering her inhibitions also made her chatty.
“What’s your favorite hobby?” Jhiton looked wary as he asked the question and glanced at Yavaron.
She could only shrug back.
“Oh, I adore all things related to herbalism, pharmacology, and the history of healing. I collect old books and antique medical tools, you know. My cousin Teyla studies ancient civilizations, but I’m mostly interested in the practices of healing they had and the tools they made.
I love that which is related to healing and helping people. ”
Yavaron sighed, looking wistfully at Syla, and Vorik suspected she also felt regret about being a part of this. She was as dedicated to helping people as anyone and probably didn’t care for any of this.
“I had collected so many wondrous specimens from past times,” Syla continued, “but then the stormers invaded the capital and destroyed the temple and my room. I lost almost everything and so many friends and my whole family too.” She hiccuped, tears filling her eyes.
This time, with the drug impacting her, she didn’t blink them away.
Vorik had to blink away tears of his own as sympathy welled within him.
Syla seemed to remember that Jhiton was one of those stormers, and she squinted at him, a hint of suspicion entering her eyes.
“Any other hobbies?” Jhiton doubtless wanted to ask about the shielders, but he had to be waiting until he knew the drug would prompt her to answer.
“I like to read about all manner of topics, and in the summer I adore swimming. I’ve always been such a klutz on land, but everything is smoother in the water.
I almost feel graceful sometimes.” Her suspicion faded, and she brightened when she said, “Oh, and Vorik has said he’ll teach me to juggle.
I’m sure I’ll have no aptitude for it, but I think he would like it if I tried.
He gave me some balls. He thinks it’ll help my eyesight.
Well, not exactly that, but my peripheral vision.
Yes, that’s what it was. He’s nice to care, isn’t he?
And when he smiles at me, and his eyes are warm, I get all mushy inside.
” She giggled. “Mushy isn’t a very good word, is it? ”
That giggle startled Vorik. Poor Syla had been in mourning since he’d met her, and he’d never heard her giggle. But the drug…
“It’s a fine word. Vorik is mushy too.” Jhiton arched an eyebrow at Vorik.
Vorik scowled at him.
“He was wondering,” Jhiton said to Syla, “where the shielder for Bogberry Island is.”
Vorik’s scowl deepened. This was the whole point of capturing and questioning Syla, but Vorik hated that his brother was trying to use her feelings for him against her. And dread rather than triumph filled him when she answered.
“Oh, it’s in the salt mine at the core of the island. In the back of the original tunnel, behind a relief carved of the sea god.”
“Excellent,” Jhiton said.
“You need a moon-mark to access it,” Syla warned.
“That won’t be a problem. Did you say you’ve moved the shielder artifact on Castle Island or that it’s still in the same spot?”
“I…” Syla’s suspicion returned, and was that knowing dread creeping into her eyes?
It was hard to tell from behind her, but Vorik believed she’d realized she’d made a mistake.
“Where is the shielder on Vineyard Island?” Jhiton asked.
“I don’t think—”
A shout came from the depths of the cave system. “Trouble coming! Cave crawlers rushing up this way in a hurry.”
Jhiton stepped back and drew his swords. Vorik released Syla, intending to go with his brother—if the cave crawlers were on the move, something deep in the tunnels had disturbed them.
“Stay here,” Jhiton said. “Keep your prisoner safe. And in place.”
As Jhiton jogged out, several armed men and women from the front of the camp appeared outside their nook. Together, they ran deeper into the cave complex.
Scant seconds passed before the person who’d shouted the first warning yelled, “A kraken moved into the underground lake!”
Vorik cursed. He’d been joking when he and Jhiton had spoken about the possibility, but such threats were real in their world and always had to be expected.
We’ve engaged with the Freeborn dragons, Agrevlari told Vorik. They’ve claimed to be hunting and seeking shelter from a storm that’s starting to batter the coastline, but we believe they’re looking for your queen.
“When the mad god sends a storm, he sends a hurricane,” Vorik muttered the old saying.
Yavaron shook her head, returned the needle to Syla’s medical kit, and picked up her own healing supplies. “I’m going to be needed out there.”
More warriors ran through the tunnel as cries of engagement came from the underground lake.
Pig-like squeals accompanied the shouts of men.
The cave crawlers. They would be fleeing the kraken, but they had claws and sharp teeth, making them threats on their own, and if they saw the stormers as obstacles to escape, they would be vicious.
The cave kraken, of course, made no sounds. Such creatures never did.
“Vorik?” Syla looked blearily at him as Yavaron stepped out of the nook, leaving them alone. “What’s happening?”
“Nothing good.” Vorik longed to go fight with his people, but Jhiton had ordered him to stay, and he would.
A part of him, however, wondered if Syla was lucid enough to escape while his people were distracted.
He shouldn’t want her to do that, especially when the drug had been working, and they could gain even more intelligence from her, but the ignominy of it all disturbed him.
Even if she hadn’t been hurt, she’d been betrayed.
When they’d been in the opposite situation, she hadn’t drugged him—or let anyone else drug him.
She’d respected him and his honor. “You’re a better person than I am,” he murmured to her.
The uncharacteristic confusion that furrowed her brow stung him, and he found himself hoping the drug wore off soon. And that he could figure out a way to keep Jhiton from applying it again.
“I’d have better luck reasoning with the cave kraken,” he muttered.