“He was right about Mardakine. It’s not an option.” Kandler opened the pack and found some cheese and dried beef wrapped tightly in dry cloths. He helped himself to a meager portion and tossed the pack to Burch, who stopped pacing. “I would have preferred Sharn, but Thrane’s not all bad.”
“Been there?” The shifter fished out some food for himself and set to it.
“Once. On assignment from King Boranel.”
“Kill any knights?”
Kandler took a pull from the waterskin before he answered. “Not too many.”
Burch stopped chewing. “That a problem, boss?”
Kandler sighed. “I don’t think I’m wanted in Thrane. If I was, Deothen would have slapped me in chains days ago.”
Burch nodded and went back to his pacing. When he reached the bow again, the floorboards groaned. Te’oma’s stomach dropped through the floor, and she held her breath tight.
Kandler sat up in the hammock. “Step back from there, Burch,” he said. “Quick.”
“Just a creaky floor,” the shifter said.
Te’oma measured the distance between herself and the shifter. His back was turned to her now. With luck, she could kill him with one strike, but that would leave her trapped in the hold with Kandler-a prospect she did not relish. Still, the justicar was unarmed, and she had her knife and the power of her mind.
“That’s where Majeeda’s spell hit the ship,” Kandler said. “It might not have holed the hull, but I wouldn’t walk on it.”
Burch sidled away from the damaged spot, and Te’oma let out a silent sigh of relief. When the shifter reached the ship’s stem, he sat down on the hull’s rising arc.
“It’s late,” Kandler said. He took a last pull on the water-skin and tossed it to Burch. “Can you cover that lamp?”
“You can sleep now?”
“Burch, it’s been a damned long day. Last night, we fought a pack of vampires and chased that changeling into Majeeda’s tower. The night before, we broke out of prison so we could rescue Mardakine. It’s going to be a while before we make it to Flamekeep, and I could sleep through a war right now.”
The shifter reached up and pulled the lamp’s cover shut, plunging the hold into darkness.
“Thanks,” Kandler said before he drifted off.
Te’oma heard the sounds of Burch munching on a bit more of the food and then climbing into a hammock across the aisle from Kandler. The shifter grumbled to himself a bit and started snoring soon after.
Te’oma waited until she was sure both Kandler and Burch were sound asleep. She considered knifing both of them, but she feared that wouldn’t help her get out of the hold. If the knights came down here and found their prisoners dead, they would scour the hold until they found her, and she wasn’t ready to take them all on.
Te’oma was still sitting awake in the dark when the hatchway opened. The sky outside was only a few shades lighter than the ceiling of the hold, but the light from the ring of fire played off the edge of the folded-back hatch and the top of the ladder beneath it.
“Kandler?” a voice called down. It was Deothen. “Burch? Are you ready to come up and speak like civilized people?”
“We’re not the ones who tossed their friends into the hold, sir knight,” said Kandler.
Te’oma started at the sound of the justicar’s voice. She’d been sure he was asleep.
“I am comfortable with my decision,” the senior knight responded, although an edge in his voice belied his words. “The Silver Flame lights my path, and it is clear.”
“Then we’re happy down here in the dark,” Kandler said. “And we’re sleeping. I’m not getting out of this hammock to make you feel better about betraying us. Good night, good knight.”
Deothen sighed and the hatch closed once more.
Te’oma waited, stretching her limbs where she sat in the dark. She heard footfalls overhead, but they soon tapered off. When the ship had been silent for many minutes, the changeling slipped from her perch and tiptoed over to the ladder below the hatch. Reaching out with her mind, the changeling visualized the restraining bolt holding on the other side of the hatch. Once she had it, she tapped it with her mind. Above her, the bolt slid aside, unlocking the hatchway. Te’oma nudged the hatch upward an inch and then another. When there was just enough room, she peered out through the narrow gap she’d made and surveyed the airship’s deck.
The bridge stood above and behind the changeling. She knew that anyone up there could not see the hatchway. The console on which the ship’s wheel hung blocked the view straight down.
She opened the hatch just enough to see down the length of the rest of the deck, all the way to the bow. Three forms lay huddled near that end of the ship, perhaps trying to escape the heat of the fiery ring for comfort as they slept. One of them was dressed in white. At first she thought it was Esprл, but upon closer inspection she realized it was too large and bulky. A newcomer then. The others had to be knights, although the changeling could not tell which.
Beyond the bowsprit stood the Mournland’s mist-shrouded border. Clouds of the same color and texture filled the sky above. Te’oma smiled, baring her blackened teeth.
“Burch?” a voice behind her whispered. “Is that you?”
Te’oma froze.
Chapter 43
Kandler rolled out of his hammock and padded toward the ladder. “How did you get the hatch open?” the justicar whispered.
The hatch flew open, and in the sudden light that poured through from the ring of fire surrounding the ship, Kandler could see that whoever was on the ladder, it was not the shifter. The figure was far too lithe and held herself with a distinctly feminine grace.
“Hey!” Kandler shouted and charged.
The intruder hauled herself up the ladder and onto the deck. Just as the figure was about to clear the hold, Kandler’s hand stabbed out and caught an ankle.
“Come back here!” he said.
The justicar yanked the intruder halfway back through the hatchway. As she landed with her belly on the edge of the hatch, she lashed out with her free foot and caught Kandler across the chin. Determined not to let go, the justicar held on through the first blow, but the stranger knew where to find him now. A second kick in the face smashed his nose flat. With a third kick, the intruder wriggled free and pulled herself out through the hatch.
Blinking away tears, Kandler wiggled his nose and decided it wasn’t broken. He lunged for the ladder, but just as he reached it the figure slammed the hatch shut.
“Huh?” It was Burch, stirring from sleep. “What’s going on?”
“The changeling!” Kandler said as he climbed the ladder. He shoved his head and shoulder up against the hatchway and pushed with all his might. He managed to leverage the lid up and back, and the intruder jumped away.
As Kandler stuck his head through the hatch, he saw the changeling standing above him, her form silhouetted against the raging ring of fire, the light of which reflected warmly on the gray clouds of the Mournland sky above. The thought that the creature had been on the airship with them-down in the hold with him! — made him roar with rage.
As Kandler scrambled through the open hatch, he heard Esprл’s scream from the bridge above him. Kandler stood and scanned the deck. Deothen, Sallah, and Xalt sat near the ship’s bow where the justicar guessed they’d been dozing. Kandler glanced up at the circular blaze. They were so close to the layer of clouds overhanging the Mournland that all he could see was the gray above and the black emptiness along the ship’s sides, as if they were floating through some nether realm far beyond the world he knew.
“Kandler!” Esprл screeched when she spotted the justicar from her spot on the bridge.
He turned and flashed a quick grin at Esprл then snapped his head about to look for the changeling. His daughter seemed safe, but no one on the airship would be out of danger until the changeling was dead. It was hard
