by Jill Braden
She looked out the window again and counted sea dragons. Maybe twenty: a huge landing party, considering that there were only three Ravidians.
The bigger picture was clear, and it made her blood run cold.
Maybe Kyam hadn’t meant to hand her over to the military, but his motives didn’t concern her any more. Nor did his future: That would happen anyway, no matter what either of them did. The Oracle hadn’t spoken about her future, though. Perhaps she didn’t have one. Perhaps it would end on the cay. But she wasn’t going down without a fight, no matter who got hurt. Even him.
~ ~ ~
A search of Kyam’s cabin revealed nothing QuiTai could use as a weapon. The silk scarf he’d given her was crumpled under his pillow. She left it.
She sat on the bed and unwrapped the gauze around her ankle. Ivitch’s teeth had scraped off some skin. There were only a couple of punctures, but the skin surrounding them was inflamed and warm to the touch, a sure sign that an infection had set in. At least it didn’t hurt to walk.
After she rewrapped the gauze and dressed, there was little to do but wait. Eventually, someone would come for her. Until then, she should prepare as best she could for all the possible futures.
She unscrewed the cap from the vial of black lotus and carefully squeezed a few drops of her venom into it. After replacing the cap, she shook it hard to mix the resinous tar with the pale green neurotoxin. She wasn’t sure that the combination would work the same as vapor, but summoning the Oracle wasn’t her main objective. A person would recover from such a small amount of her venom – Petrof always did – but they’d be incapacitated for a while.
She peered through the porthole. In the far distance, haze wreathed the peaks of Ponong. They had to be near the cay by now. She heard footsteps on the stairs outside the cabin.
It was time.
Chapter 15: Enter the Military
Kyam opened the cabin door. He wore a Thampurian military uniform and stood stiffly as he looked slightly over her head. “You’ve been summoned to the Captain’s cabin.”
She stepped into the hallway. Two soldiers in uniforms that matched Kyam’s waited on the stairs; she recognized them from their march through the marketplace.
The soldiers led her upstairs. Kyam followed them to Hadre’s cabin.
Voorus’ boots rested on Hadre’s desk as he leaned back in a chair. Hadre stood to the side, quietly fuming. Twenty Thampurian soldiers packed into the small space. Kyam pressed against her back as he closed the cabin door.
Voorus swung his feet off the table and leaned over the map. “Very good. Now that we’re assembled, we can begin our operation. Captain Zul, your sailors will row us to the cay. The snake will accompany us as our native guide.”
“I’ve never been on Cay Rhi before,” QuiTai said.
His gaze rose to meet hers. It wasn’t hatred that she saw, just smug superiority. “I didn’t give you permission to speak. I’m also not giving you a choice. Come willingly, or come in shackles.”
QuiTai could feel the crackling energy of a shift spread through Kyam. She always thought sea dragons had to be in the ocean to shift, but every type of shifter was unique, and it had taken her almost two years to learn that everything she thought about werewolves was wrong.
“She told you that she doesn’t know the cay. What use would she be?” Kyam asked.
“May I remind you, Zul, that you’re an observer. This is my operation.”
Sensing that it might be best to pretend that was a surprise to her, QuiTai looked over her shoulder at Kyam. “Colonel Zul?”
Voorus laughed. “Certainly he used to be a colonel, but he’s nothing more now than a remittance man. Stripped of rank and sent away where he couldn’t embarrass his family anymore. Did you actually believe he was in charge? I thought that you were supposed to be smart.” His laughter was poorly faked.
Something didn’t strike her as right about the scene. It might have been true that Kyam was currently in disgrace. He might have been stripped of rank: That explained why his government wouldn’t listen to him, and why he’d tried to bribe her with family money. Could the Oracle have been wrong? No. It wasn’t possible. Kyam Zul was much more than a remittance man, even if he and Voorus didn’t know it yet.
“Tell her, Zul.”
His eyes pleaded with her for understanding. “You think I’m a spy. I’m not. I still have my rank, despite what Major Voorus says, and technically I have duties on Ponong, but my real job is to fade into obscurity. Here’s irony for you: As awful as you’ve been to me, you’re the only person on this island who’s treated me as if I still mattered.”
A man like him with nothing to do all day but paint flowers while serving a life sentence on a beautiful island prison. A sea dragon forever banned from setting foot on a boat home. No wonder he simmered with frustrated anger all the time. She should have seen it. The entire plan to follow the Ravidians had been his desperate attempt to win back his place in Thampurian society.
Although Kyam couldn’t know it, the real irony was that she could see the future unfolding; and that she, of all people, would be the one to make the Oracle’s vision come true after fighting so hard to stop it. Kyam Zul would become the governor of Ponong. She didn’t know how, but it would come to pass, probably because he’d eventually get credit for bringing the Ravidian plot to the attention of his superiors. And he’d always know that she was the only reason he had figured it out. Colonial governor Zul would be in her debt. The possibilities were delicious. It was a pity she couldn’t let him in on the cosmic joke: Kyam could probably use the laugh.
“You’ve been made the fool,” Voorus told QuiTai. “I’m curious though. What could possibly tempt the Devil’s whore into helping a man she clearly hates?”
The question was, what would Voorus believe? He didn’t need the truth.
She lifted her chin. “They promised me that they’d get me into the new kinescoptic motion pictures in Rantuum. I’ve had enough of living on this boring island. I’m an actress. I belong on the stage.”
That time, Voorus’ ugly laughter was real. “A promise he won’t keep, I assure you.”
QuiTai spun around and slapped Kyam. “You!”
Voorus found that even funnier. “Get the little viper under control, Zul. We have work to do.”
Kyam grasped her wrists. She put up a token struggle while Voorus ordered them to board the lifeboats.
Chapter 16: The Tide Pools
None of the soldiers or sailors spoke as they rowed toward the cay. The skiffs rode the crests of waves and dropped down into the troughs in the choppy water. The sun wouldn’t set for several hours, but the edge of a tropical storm darkened the southern sky. Even over the sea, the air was sticky and thick with humidity.
QuiTai bailed water from the bottom of the boat until she realized it was useless. Without something to keep her occupied though, all she could do was watch their progress toward land and fret about what they might find there. Kyam didn’t ask what she foresaw; they were surrounded by Thampurian soldiers now, and every word, every gesture, might have ramifications later on. For now, it was best to keep their public conversations hostile.
While Cay Rhi’s lagoon was a safer harbor, Voorus decided it would be better to row to a smaller beach further from the tide pool plantation so that the Ravidians wouldn’t see them coming. But the narrow, rocky beach was perilous landing. Kyam jumped out of the skiff in the surf with the sailors, and shook his head when QuiTai slipped overboard and grabbed hold of one of the guide ropes. She saw him stifle a chuckle. If he could still laugh, he hadn’t put together the pieces of the puzzle as she had. Or maybe he knew exactly what the soldiers planned to do.
No matter. Their business was concluded. They owed each other nothing now. It wasn’t betrayal if he sided with the Thampurians, any more than if she chose her people over him.
When it became clear that the skiffs couldn’t be dragged over the rocks to the narrow band of soft white sand, the s
oldiers reluctantly waded to shore.
The cay, like many of the small archipelago islands, was little more than a giant dune pushed out of the sea by the relentless waves. Even the monolith stones along its southern shore were worn to stumps that barely rose above the water. The cay was covered with coconut palms and stands of tall grass. Further from the beach, the jungle clung to the sandy soil with tenacious roots.
Voorus tossed an equipment pack at QuiTai. She staggered backward as the heavy pack hit her chest. He snapped his fingers at her and strode toward the jungle. Before she could drop the pack, Kyam took it from her, briefly touching her arm, pleading with his eyes for her to hold her tongue.
The sailors quickly pushed the skiffs off the rocks and rowed back to the junk. That made the little plan forming in QuiTai’s mind a bit harder to carry out, but she was sure that she’d find a way around it. She had to.
The soldiers under Voorus’ command quickly secured the beach and gathered by the trunk of a slim coconut palm that bowed toward the water. Rivulets of sweat already poured down the major’s temples, even though he hadn’t manned an oar on the skiff. He opened the equipment pack Kyam held and pulled out a machete. “Make sure that she only uses it on plants,” he warned Kyam.
Clouds of mosquitoes and night spirit moths rose as QuiTai and the soldiers hacked two parallel paths through the jungle. Kyam took the lead on the line of men to QuiTai’s left. Even though the canopy overhead shielded them from the sun, the hot, humid air scorched their lungs. Ten minutes later, soaked in sweat, they yielded the lead to the men behind them and fell to the back of the line.
QuiTai joined Kyam as he paused to consult his compass. She was glad he had it; she knew her way around Ponong, but she had only a vague idea of where they were headed on the cay. The entire island wasn’t more than half a mile wide and maybe two miles long, so it was impossible to get too lost, but she was in no mood to waste time.
“Let the soldiers do most of the work. Don’t exhaust yourself. You need to stay alert,” Kyam said in a quiet voice as he kept his focus on the compass.
Using her forearm, she wiped sweat from her forehead.
“And don’t give me that look. You saw what the Ravidians did to the harbor master’s neck. Not to mention that Petrof could be lurking anywhere.”
QuiTai unhinged her fangs and ran her tongue down one with such relish that Kyam shuddered. Then he clamped his sweaty hand over her mouth. “That’s not a good idea.”
Her hand went on her hip as she gave him a look that she was sure he couldn’t misinterpret. Then she turned and followed the line of soldiers who had moved ahead without them.
The lead soldier on Kyam’s column stopped abruptly, motioned for silence, and ducked. QuiTai and Kyam carefully picked their own path through the undergrowth without using their machetes. They squatted shoulder to shoulder and pushed aside glossy, dark green leaf that blocked their view.
Gentle waves lapped a crescent of white sand beach around the lagoon; several small outrigger fishing boats bobbed in the pale blue-green water beyond. Jungle fowl clucked as if muttering to themselves as they scratched at the ground around quiet huts. But no people. No children laughing. No grandmothers on the rickety, modest verandas of the palm leaf covered huts. No men singing as they hung their fishing nets to dry.
The bad feeling in the pit of QuiTai’s stomach wrenched into pangs of fear. There: a bowl overturned yards from the water. There: a splatter of blood on the wall of a hut.
She tried to guess how many people lived in the village and how many could fit in the fishing boats. It would be tight, but if the series of events she expected came to pass, any Ponongese left behind would never leave the island alive.
QuiTai unscrewed the top from the vial of black lotus and spread a few drops of the murky mixture of her venom and the tar around her wrists.
~ ~ ~
The eerie stillness in the village seemed to affect the Thampurian soldiers too. They crouched and made their way through the underbrush without a word, skirting the village as if it were ground too sacred to touch.
As the soldiers paused to get their bearings, she stayed within sight, but at a distance. “Where’s our guide?” Voorus asked. His dark eyes sought QuiTai. “Bring her to me.”
A soldier gripped her sleeved forearm. She wanted him to touch her skin, so she pulled away. In the brief struggle, his fingers clamped around her wrist. Only then did she allow him to drag her toward the major.
“We wouldn’t want you to get lost,” Voorus said.
“I have no idea where we’re going, so you could say that I already am.”
“We’re going to the plantation. That’s where you promised the Ravidians would be.”
“I said that’s where I thought they might be, Major, but I made no promises. However, if you want to get from this village to the plantation, I suggest you take the established path rather than spend your energy cutting a new one.”
“What path?”
“If the villagers work on the plantation, they probably walk there. If they walk there every day, there’s probably a path. It shouldn’t be too hard to find. Look for the place where the plants aren’t growing.”
Several feet away, Kyam covered his face and slowly shook his head.
“Men, look for a path,” Voorus said.
The soldier who’d gripped QuiTai’s wrist staggered a few steps and then stared at his hand. He giggled. QuiTai fought the urge to giggle with him as she felt the black lotus seep into his blood. Even from here, she could see that his pupils were contracted.
“Soldier!” Voorus’ face flushed with heat and anger.
The man tried to come to attention, but collapsed in another fit of laughter. “My hands are floating.”
Kyam shot QuiTai a piercing look and rushed to the soldier to unbutton the soldier’s jacket and try to persuade him to sip water from a canteen. “He’s overcome from the heat. Someone should take him back to the Golden Barracuda.”
Interesting. Kyam suspected that she had something to do with the soldier’s condition, but wasn’t telling anyone.
“Leave him here. We’ll deal with him later.” Voorus ran his finger under his collar. Rings of sweat darkened his uniform under his arms. “Have you found the path yet?” he called out.
“Over here, sir,” a soldier said.
“Come on.” Voorus stomped off.
Kyam shook a warning finger at her. QuiTai barely suppressed a wicked grin and followed the major.
~ ~ ~
A flock of small gold, green, and red parrots rose from the upper limbs of a mango tree beside the path. The soldiers flinched as the loud voices of the parrots racketed through the jungle. When Voorus was convinced it was safe, he motioned his men to follow.
They were almost at the plantation wall before they saw it. The original compound hadn’t been built as a fortress, but it was one now. Blue tiles that had once capped the wall lay in shards on the ground. Damp plaster, still smelling of wet clay, covered the top four feet of the wall. Strands of a slick gel draped over wires strung tight above the new bricks.
A single guard tower rose from the center of the compound. The Ravidian standing in it held something long and metal in his hands as he leaned against the railing and looked toward the sea.
The soldiers darted back into the jungle before the Ravidian could turn and see them, but QuiTai rushed to the wall and pressed her back to it. There was no way the guard could see her from that angle if she couldn’t see him. As Voorus hissed for her to join them, she tucked her machete into the waistband of her sarong and moved along the wall toward the back of the compound, where the path widened into a large patch of cleared dirt in front of a walled-up gate.
She startled when she saw a body at the far edge of the clearing. Every detail came to her in quick flashes. The plants and dirt around him seemed to be covered with the same gel that hung from the wires; even his clothes looked wet. Flies buzzed around his bloated body but didn’t la
nd.
So this is how they use the sea wasps as a weapon.
She wasn’t surprised. It was how she envisioned using them if LiHoun was successful.
How did they throw so many?
“Get over here now!” Voorus sounded remarkably like Kyam when he was about to start shouting, although she doubted he would raise his voice over his terse whisper.
I’ll give you your native, Voorus, and I’ll play my role to the back of the house.
QuiTai lurched toward the corpse with one hand before her face and the other stretched out. Her halting walk, perfected on stage, gave her a chance to pick a path through the nearly clear remains of shredded sea wasps. Sobbing, she dropped to her knees in a spot clear of the stingers. After choosing the safest place to touch him, she turned him over.
She gasped. “PhaNyan!” It really was him. The fool had gotten himself killed. His rascal’s smile was a frozen grimace now.
Two soldiers rushed her. Kyam tried to hold the second one back, but he wrested free. In the scuffle to drag her back to cover, both brushed against plants coated with sea wasps. The stung soldiers muffled their cries of agony as they staggered back into hiding, but they didn’t let go of her until they were well into the trees. Their friends doused their faces and hands with vinegar.
Damn Kyam for telling them how to combat the sea wasps’ stings! She’d warned him not to tell them anything, and now they’d taken over the mission that could have saved his name and brought him out of disgrace.
Serves you right.
From the way Kyam seemed to hold his breath as his eyes fixed on a point far above the compound wall, she assumed that the Ravidian guard had turned in their direction. The soldiers, Kyam, and she held their collective breath. On an invisible signal, perhaps, the Ravidian in the guard tower turned away, and the men relaxed.