“Our undying thanks to you for all your help,” Deothen said to Kandler. “Without your aid, not only would we have failed in our mission, we would all be dead, I’m sure.”
“Don’t thank me,” the justicar said, pointing a thumb over his shoulder at the people on the bridge. “Without Burch and Esprл, I’d have died alongside you.”
“I’ll express our gratitude to them as well when I put in our traveling orders.”
“What orders?” Kandler said. He peered into Deothen’s eyes and glanced at the other knights. Brendis refused to meet his gaze, and Sallah looked away.
“We need to return to Thrane at once,” Deothen said. “We have rescued the girl, and now we must take her to Flamekeep.”
Kandler eyed the senior knight. “Do you even know that she bears the dragonmark you’re looking for?”
Deothen shook his head. “No one has seen this mark in centuries. With a ship like this at our disposal, we can be in Flamekeep in a matter of days, and the scholars there can confirm or deny my suspicions.”
Kandler did not like the way this conversation was going. “I don’t recall giving you ownership of this vessel,” he said.
Deothen smiled. “Of course. You and your friend found her, and for that we are appreciative. However, we must commandeer her. Once we are in Flamekeep, you will be paid handsomely for your troubles.”
“I’m not interested in going to Flamekeep,” Kandler said. “I have a girl here that I need to get home. Don’t tell me you propose to ‘commandeer’ her, too.”
Deothen raised his eyebrows at that. “Of course not. However, if she proves to have the Mark of Death on her, then she will need our protection. She will not be safe in Mardakine. You must understand that. There is no place safer for her than Flamekeep.”
“How convenient for the Church of Silver Flame.” Kandler could not keep the sarcasm from his voice.
Deothen’s face turned red. “What else would you propose?” he asked. “Returning to Mardakine? Do you think they will welcome you back with open arms? When we left, the town was in a shambles, which may have been the only thing that kept the people from forgetting that you were supposed to be imprisoned.”
“Mardak would have let me out once he cooled down.”
“He’s no longer alive to rescind his orders-nor is his wife.”
“Rislinto wouldn’t keep me in chains.”
“Is he in charge now?”
Kandler could see that Deothen sensed he was winning the argument here. The knight continued to press his point.
“What about that boy, Pradak? Does he inherit his father’s position now? If so, do you think he’ll be as forgiving?”
Kandler had heard enough. He put up a hand to cut the knight off. “You’re missing the point. Esprл is my daughter, and you’re not taking her anywhere. Also, Burch and I found this ship. She’s ours to do with as we like.”
“Stole her, you mean,” said Brendis, who turned an accusing glare on the justicar.
Kandler stared at the young knight. He couldn’t believe he was hearing this. “From a crazed wizard who was holding us prisoner,” he said. “Who had taken her from people she killed.”
Deothen reached out and put a hand on Kandler’s shoulder. “For the good of the world, we must return to Flamekeep straight away. There is no higher priority. And if not for the world, it really is best for the girl.”
Kandler looked over at Sallah, but she continued to avoid his gaze. He’d hoped that she would be on his side at least.
“If you like, we can drop you off in Mardakine on our way to Flamekeep,” Deothen said softly.
The justicar shrugged Deothen’s hand from his shoulder. “Esprл is coming with me,” he said. “We’re going south, to Sharn. I know people in the City of Towers who can help us. We’ll drop you off anywhere along the route that you like.”
With nothing more to say, Kandler turned his back on the knights to return to the bridge. He’d only made one step when he heard swords being drawn.
“You must be joking,” the justicar said as he turned back around to face three blazing blades. He gaped at Deothen. “I thought you were supposed to be the good guys.”
The gray-haired knight flushed with shame, but he refused to back down. He nodded at Brendis, and the young knight stepped forward to strip Kandler of his weapons.
“Sometimes,” Deothen said, “you must commit a wrong to further the greater good.”
“As long as you get to decide which good is greater, right?”
“What’s up, boss?” Burch called down from the bridge, where he stood next to Esprл, who peeked out over the wheel. He had his crossbow out and pointed at the knights.
Kandler looked to Deothen. “Are you going to threaten my life to get him to surrender?”
Deothen tapped Kandler in the center of his chest with the tip of his blazing blade. The hot metal seared a black mark into the justicar’s shirt. “I hoped we could be more civilized than that.”
“We just need to go to Flamekeep,” Sallah said, her eyes begging Kandler to be reasonable. “All of us. I swear to you, this is the right thing for your daughter. I understand how you might disagree, but please think about it. Is that worth dying over?”
Kandler shook his head at her sadly then turned to look back at his daughter and friend standing on the airship’s bridge. “The question is whether it’s worth killing over.”
Chapter 42
Te’oma’s heart skipped several beats when the hatch to the hold opened. She scurried back into the darkness, as far toward the bow as she could, and waited. She willed her skin, hair, teeth-even the whites of her eyes-to turn black. Her clothes remained the same nebulous color, but there was little she could do about that. She pulled a dull, black knife from her belt and held it before her, ready to strike from the inky shadows.
The justicar entered the hold first, slipping down the steep wooden steps, the shifter close behind. In the flickering light from the ring of fire that cascaded through the open hatch, the changeling could see that neither of them were armed. When the two friends reached the hold’s floor, they looked up at someone through the hatchway.
“How long are you going to keep us down here?” Kandler asked.
“At this speed, we should reach Flamekeep in a matter of days,” said Deothen’s voice, tinged with regret.
A waterskin fell through the open hatch, a pack right behind it. “Most of our supplies ran off with our horses,” Deothen said. “Make this last.”
The hatch closed, plunging the hold into total darkness. Kandler fumbled around near the stern. “I thought I saw-ah!”
He uncovered the lens of an everbright lantern set in the ceiling, and that end of the hold flooded with light. Te’oma didn’t move a muscle, striving to blend in with the shadows that still surrounded her.
The hold was sparse but not bare. Hammocks made of netted ropes lined a short walkway that ran the length of most of the hold. Kandler picked up the waterskin and pack and then walked over and rolled into one of the hammocks. The ropes cradled him, and he swung gently with the movement of the airship.
“Should have let me shoot, boss,” Burch said as he paced through the airship’s tight hold. The floor curved up sharply to where the changeling hid, and the shifter never came close to her, turning aside and going back the other way instead. “That old knight’d be dead.”
“I know,” Kandler said in a resigned voice. He shaded his eyes against the lamp and peered up at the ceiling as if he could see through the planks in the ship’s deck. “I just hope Esprл’s not too scared.”
Burch snorted in disgust. “Bolts through all three hearts before they got near her.”
Kandler put his hands over his face for a moment then dragged them down past his chin. “We’re here, all right?”
“We’re going to Flamekeep, not home.”
