22 #4

Yssa entered a cove before nightfall. Rock walls formed a low roof over the water. There were old nets, two rain barrels, and a wooden platform with room for the wounded.

Vela examined Peren. The needle had passed through muscle without touching bone. A dark sedative coated the metal. The boy’s pulse was still strong, and he could move his foot.

“He’ll sleep until tomorrow,” Vela said. “Then he’ll hate us for two weeks.”

Col had a sprain and three cuts. Kaoran had struck his ribs against the deck. The binding remained secure. Breathing hurt more, though his shoulder was still in position.

“The boat was an excellent place,” he said as Vela adjusted his bandages.

Isolde sat facing him.

“Darian saw me.”

“What did he do?”

“He tried to stop me. Then he cut off a core to get the civilians out.”

“Did he open the exit?”

“He ordered an evacuation of the wounded. His men understood.”

Kaoran studied her face.

“What conclusion have you brought back?”

“Varek can destroy him when he confirms my identity. Darian can destroy us if he uses what he knows. They each need the other for a little longer.”

“That creates room,” Kaoran said.

Isolde’s lip was swollen. She touched it with her tongue and tasted blood again.

“When he asked me to go with him, I knew exactly how it would have sounded before.”

Kaoran waited.

“For a moment, I wanted him to put down the sword. Just so I could look at him without calculating where he would strike me.”

She found it hard to say beside his bed. She had expected to come out of that encounter with a certainty she could show everyone.

“Did he put down the sword?” Kaoran asked.

“He raised it.”

Isolde rested her hands on her knees until they stopped shaking. Outside, Yssa was arguing with Dira about the broken mast; someone had to get them to a safe harbor.

“Tomorrow I need to know what he did after we left,” she said. “Without sending anyone near him for the sake of a hope of mine.”

Kaoran nodded and moved the bowl of water closer. Isolde picked it up herself.

Dira took out the copper plate. Salt water had darkened its edges. Beren cleaned it with a scrap of wool and held it near the lantern.

The lines formed nine circles joined by channels. Each circle bore a number and a phase mark. Below them were narrow columns of abbreviated names.

Beren pointed to the ninth.

“West-9.”

“Is it a plan?” Yssa asked.

“It’s a transit key. The stations change their entry routes every season. This plate lets you compare an order with the active route.”

Isolde leaned closer.

“What do the phases mean?”

“Intake, resonance, and opening. The same ones you saw in the mines. Each station handles one part.”

“Where’s the prison?”

“Outside these routes. The nine circles feed a point that’s blank here.”

Kaoran looked at the bottom column.

“Names.”

Beren traced the abbreviations with a finger.

“Suppliers. Quarries, military posts, prisons. This shows which manifest belongs to each station.”

“Can you get them?” Isolde asked.

“West-9 kept copies in shelters along the road. We technicians knew Varek erased anyone who learned too much. Each crew hid a portion.”

“How many crews are left?”

“Alive, perhaps four.”

“And the others?”

Beren ran his thumb over six abbreviations.

“They disappeared when they finished the first shafts.”

The cove fell silent.

Rheskan landed on an outer ledge. One leg was bleeding where the net had scraped his scales. Isolde approached with Vela’s ointment. The dragon looked at the jar, then at Dira.

The fisherwoman had cut the ropes trapping Col.

Rheskan extended his claw toward her.

Dira swallowed.

“Is he asking me to treat him?”

“He’s chosen you to remove the wire,” Isolde said.

“What if I hurt him?”

Rheskan showed his teeth.

“He’ll let you know.”

Dira worked slowly. She removed two blue fragments and washed the wound. Rheskan accepted the ointment. When she finished, he touched his snout to her shoulder and turned his gaze west.

Beren raised the plate.

“The first shelter is two days away by sea. After that, we’ll have to follow the routes of the chains.”

“Varek will know those places,” Kaoran said.

“He knows the official ones. We made others.”

Isolde opened Yssa’s map. The western coast had posts in every harbor and high roads guarded by the commission. Beren’s route crossed areas the legend had already visited. The hunt would reach them first if they used the same names.

She marked four points off the roads.

“We leave by sea tonight. At the first harbor, Peren and Col will continue to Luzmer. Beren will come with us if he can guide us.”

The man closed his hand around the plate.

“First I want to find Neira.”

“She’ll receive a message by three routes,” Isolde said. “You decide when to leave the search.”

Beren looked at the abbreviations of his former companions’ names.

“I’ll go as far as the last shelter.”

Kaoran pointed to the farthest mark.

“Varek will turn every chain into a trap.”

Isolde put away the map.

“Then we’ll go where he thinks no one would ever return.”

Outside, Rheskan spread his wings and headed west.

Darian had seen Isolde’s face. Varek still held the official story. The kingdom would keep searching for a nameless warrior.