Drarkghon's Hoard, page 22
The ship hovered above a group of rocky mounds barely keeping their heads above a tempestuous sea. Waves crashed against the cliffs on all sides, filling the air with mist. The display zeroed in on the largest of the group, distinguished by a lake at its center. Kit guessed it had once been the top of a volcano. And in the lake was the island that resembled Dragon Island on Oberon. Oh man. This was it. What the trip had been about. If life wasn’t so precarious, Kit would have been very excited. Please, please, Dru, be on your way.
Sanur zoomed in. “How about that? It looks a bit like Dragon Island at home.”
Dersa snorted. “Never mind that. Where are you going to land?”
“I suppose it’ll have to be that little beach on the island. There’s not really anywhere else.” Sanur didn’t sound confident. “Put us down on the beach.”
The ship had an AI, but Kit thought it wasn’t as sophisticated as Astra. It did the job, though, settling on its pads on the narrow strip of black sand.
Dersa had a pistol in her hand. “Let’s go, professor. You first.”
Kit edged down the steep little ramp onto the sand. The island was covered in stunted bushes sculpted by the endless wind into grotesque shapes. The air was cold, tasting of salt and ozone. A sharp breeze swept through her hair and probed at her clothes. She shivered, wishing they’d thought about bringing a jacket for her.
Dersa nudged her forward. “Lead on.”
She searched her memory. The GPR had shown what looked like a cave, halfway up the hill. Steps went in and down, like Dragon Island. There should be some sort of low building, maybe an arch.
She started up the hill, weaving between the bushes.
“This looks like a path.” Sanur following behind Dersa, stopped and pointed. “They look more like bricks than rocks.”
Kit joined him. Anything for a delay. “I think you’re right.”
Dersa’s eyes narrowed. She waved her pistol. “Get on with it.”
“You know, it’s likely to hold a lot of loot,” Kit said as she trod slowly along the overgrown path. “Too much for that little ship.”
“Plenty for m — us,” Sanur said.
The path ended at a small cliff. The remains of an archway surrounded familiar carvings. Just like Dragon Island.
“How do we get in?” Sanur prodded Kit with his gun. “Come on, do your stuff.”
“It’s not that simple. Give me time to think.”
Old technology, the same age as Dragon Island, the same Yrmak clan. They’d worked out the code that was used there. All she had to do was remember it. Where are you Dru?
“Oh, this is rubbish. Get back you two.” Dersa took out a round device from her belt pouch and attached it the center of the door.
Sanur put out his hand. “That’s a deton—”
The doorway collapsed with a roar, caving in and sending rubble tumbling down into the echoing depths.
Wide stone steps, worn smooth by time, descended into the vault. A few last tinkles and bangs rose up as the last of the debris settled. Chewing at her lip, her heart thudding, Kit gazed into the darkness. The debris from the shattered door lay on the floor. The dust of centuries, disturbed by the fall, drifted in the stairwell.
Sanur rounded on Dersa. “You idiot. You could’ve brought the whole place down.”
Dersa didn’t flinch. “But I didn’t.” She smirked. “Go on, professor. Down you go.”
Kit met her eyes. No question what the plan was—if there were traps, they wanted her to find them with her face. If Dru were here, he’d send in a spybot. She had nothing but her hands and a bad feeling.
The stairwell yawned in front of her, stone steps crusted with age, some chipped, some worn smooth. She moved slowly, toe first, each footfall a test. The air shifted. Colder. Drier. The kind of dryness that leeched into your lungs and stayed there. Dust clung to the back of her throat, thick with the scent of metal and rot. She didn’t want to think about what kind of rot.
Below, broken rubble had slid up against a second door—metal, etched with Yrmak script that shimmered faintly under the torchlight. The lines were sharp, undulled by time. In the center, a round button waited like an eye.
She pressed it.
Blue light flared. A heavy click echoed in the dark, and the door slid sideways with a grinding hiss.
Her heart thudded. Beyond the threshold, the entry chamber was barely a few paces deep, then rows of shelves marched off into blackness. A tomb for forgotten riches. Or bones.
Behind her, boots scraped on stone. Dersa and Sanur were coming. Their torch beams lanced through the dark, slicing shadows that closed in again just as fast.
Kit stepped forward—and bolted.
They didn’t need her now. She knew it. And she wasn’t going to wait around for the end.
The vault
Javelin swept between high gray cloud and crinkled foam-flecked ocean toward the scattered islands of the Doormand Archipelago. The landscape fitted Dru’s mood. If anything happened to Kit, somebody was going to die.
The last night at the palace had been difficult. He’d tossed and turned, she’d lain with her back to him, and they’d barely exchanged a word since then. She wasn’t angry. Sad. Unhappy. All because he was so fixed on the treasure, the money. Huh. Keri would have been in on it in a moment. Yes. Go find Yrmak treasure, get out before they know about it. A wonderful victory. She’d got there first. That was one thing about her—it was all about her.
Kit’s not like that.
The thought came from left field. Kit cared about other people and history and Yrmaks. And him. She’d stepped up and taken on things she wasn’t trained in, saved his life. And now he was going to save hers, whatever happened.
Damn it, whether he liked it or not he ... felt very strongly about Kit. Okay, it was the L word. This was the real thing, not like Keri. That had been all lust and competition. With Kit it was companionship, togetherness. Love.
And he was going to get her back and keep her.
They were getting close. Time to get ready. He’d already recovered his spare comm. Just as well he kept a backup. The other one would have fried when they tried to get into it. He put on his combat suit, checked his weapons and returned to the cockpit.
“We are approaching our destination,” Astra said. “And there is another ship on the ground.”
Adrenalin coursed through him. Beside him Ziaarn grunted. “Give me a view from the air. And make sure they don’t see us.”
Astra gained height and zoomed in on an empty hillside. “They must be inside. We’re going to have to go down there. Astra, open the ramp and hover over the top of the hill. We’ll jump down from there.”
As Astra maneuvered the ship he said, “I think Sanur’s a light weight but Dersa could be dangerous.”
“I agree.” Ziaarn settled her disrupter with practiced ease. “Let us hope they have not already killed Kit. She has done what they needed.”
Rage tore up Dru’s backbone and flared in his chest. If they’d killed Kit... they were dead. No. Anger was no use. He damped down the fury and let it turn to ice. “When we’re out, Astra, keep an eye on the location. If they come out and try to reach their ship, kill them.”
“Acknowledge.”
Astra opened the ramp above the salt-lashed hilltop. He activated his combat armor and followed Ziaarn down onto the rocky ground.
They split up. Dru scrambled down between the twisted bushes to the doorway on one side while Ziaarn did the same on the other. The door had been blasted. Fragments were scattered the length of the stairwell. Dru raised his hand and sent the spybot into the vault.
The place was full of shelves, stretching in rows. The spybot locked onto a figure edging stealthily along one corridor. That was Dersa and she carried a pistol. A male voice called. “Kit? It’s okay. We’re not going to hurt you.”
The spybot found Sanur with a torch, walking in parallel with Dersa in a different row. Kit was moving, creeping around the end of the rows.
“They’re trying to trap her,” Ziaarn whispered. “Leave Dersa to me. You get Sanur.”
Dru nodded.
THE FIRST SHOT WHINED past Kit’s ear like an angry insect. Another followed, slicing through the air near her hip. She ducked and veered sideways, zigzagging the way Dru had taught her. Don’t run straight, don’t make it easy.
The aisle swallowed her. Shelves loomed on both sides, thick with shadows. Dust danced in the weak torchlight behind her. She reached the end of the row, heart thudding, lungs burning. For now, she was hidden. But not safe. She’d have to move, shift to another row. There was only one torch now.
“Kit?” Sanur’s voice floated out, calm, coaxing. “It’s okay. We’re not going to hurt you.”
Right. She pressed herself into the corner, breath shallow. They’d split up. Classic trap. Sanur’s voice echoed from the far side, where his torch flickered like a lure. Too obvious. That meant Dersa was the one to worry about—out there in the dark, moving slowly, quietly.
She glanced at the shelf beside her. Statues. Stone, maybe ceramic. She picked one, hefted it, and threw it hard toward another row. It clattered, bounced, and shattered with a sound that tore through the silence.
Sanur’s light shifted instantly. “Kit?”
She didn’t answer. She shrank back, her heart caught in her throat.
Shots cracked. Two of them, then a heavy thud. Backup? More of Sanur’s people?
Before she could shout, a shape lunged at her out of the dark. “Don’t move. I don’t want to have to kill you.”
She didn’t give Sanur the chance. She stepped in, caught his arm, and slammed him into the shelves. He crumpled with a satisfying thump.
“Kit?” A different voice. Familiar. Alive.
Dru.
Her legs almost gave out. Relief hit like a punch.
Then Dru was there. Solid. Real. His arms crushed her against him, then his mouth found hers—urgent, messy, alive.
A voice broke in, amused. “Is this a Human mating ritual?”
Ziaarn. Of course.
Dru pulled back, hands still gripping her arms. “Are you hurt?”
“I’m okay. They told me you were dead.”
“I was drugged. Lucky I didn’t finish that last glass of wine.”
Kit tensed. “Where’s Dersa?”
“Dead,” Ziaarn said, stepping over Sanur’s body with casual disinterest. She nudged him with her toe. “And this one?”
“No,” Dru said. “We need answers.”
Sanur stirred, groaning. Ziaarn raised her weapon and fired. He dropped, motionless.
Kit gasped. “You didn’t have to—”
“I stunned him. He’ll wake. And now we can look at what we’ve found.” Ziaarn turned and read the label on a nearby chest. “This one says ‘coins’.” She tried the latch. The lid opened, light from her torch catching the metallic gleam of stacked coins.
Kit picked one up and twirled it in her fingers. “Looks like the ones you found on the asteroid.” She handed it to Dru.
“Same kind. Just one of these could fetch hundreds.”
“Not if you flood the market.” Kit leaned against the shelf. The adrenalin had worn off. She felt bone weary. Dru draped his arm around her. “Come on, love. Let’s look around.”
Love? He’d called her ‘love’. That almost eclipsed the drama of where they were, what they’d found.
Ziaarn was already onto the next chest. “‘Jewels,’ this one says.” Another lid cracked open. Necklaces, bracelets, rings—all tangled together. Rubies. Sapphires. Emeralds. The glint of gold and silver filled the shadows.
Wow. And this was only a fraction of what was stacked here.
Dru led her to another row and ran his torch along a line of statues. The light glinted on gold and silver and gleamed on greenstone and jade. Some were Human, some Yrmak.
He picked up a heavy vase with three handles, smooth and elegant, of Human make. “Can I take this?”
Ziaarn barely glanced at it. “Yes.”
“Huh. Look at this.” Kit stared at a carved green figure with spread wings and sharp claws, running her fingers over the smooth surface of the body. “It’s Marh’kesh. The Great Mother’s consort. The sculptor used the flaws in the stone to highlight the features on the head and wings. This is masterwork.”
Ziaarn stepped beside them, picked up the figure and turned it in her hands. “Beautiful work. To us, Marh’kesh is of minor significance. You want it? Take it.”
Kit stared. “This is worth a fortune.”
Ziaarn inclined her head. “There is enough here to fill a dozen lifetimes. Without you who knows how much longer it would have been buried? How much do you want?”
She exchanged a look with Dru. Even a fraction of what was here would enable both of them to buy anything they could possibly want. Except...
“Wealth’s useful, but not everything.” Dru lifted the jade vase. “I’ll take this for Alveron to get him off my case. Maybe a little gold, enough to live well. But more than anything?”
He looked at Kit.
“I want you. You’re worth more than the whole vault.” He put his arms around her. “I want a future for us, Kit. You and me. I expect you’ll stay here to work on the temple?”
Kit stared up at him. Future? Us? All she could manage was an answer to that last question. “Yes.”
“There will be a place for you if you want it.” Ziaarn waved her hand around the vault. “With this, the planet will be rich. We will need a stronger military, stronger defense. I would support you.”
He grinned, a sparkle in his hazel eyes. “What do you say, Kit? You and me together forever?”
She melted against him. “That’ll be a definite yes.”
Ziaarn rumbled her version of a laugh. “More Human mating rituals. Please choose what you want to take — a chest of coins, some jewels, statues — and I will help you load them into your ship.”
“Won’t President Ogamba want a say in that?” Kit asked.
“You heard her. She said it is not her place to give away Yrmak treasure.” Ziaarn put her hand on her chest. “But it is mine.”
“WE’D BETTER GET BACK,” Dru said. “I want some answers from Sanur but we have to get rid of his ship. It’s a beacon inviting anyone who sees it to visit.”
“Throw it into the sea,” Ziaarn said.
“Nice idea. How do you propose I do that?” He said the words without thinking. It was what he would have said to a Human colleague. She might take offence at his tone.
But she didn’t.
“I will fly it over the ocean a long way from here and abandon it. The sea can take care of it.”
“How do we get you off?” Dru said.
“You have cargo slings?”
Yes, he had. He occasionally used them to hoist cargo on board.
Ziaarn lifted a shoulder. “We go high enough, I eject, you catch me in a net. I trust your clever spaceship.” She patted the seat as if it were a pet.
“We can do that.” It was something he never thought he’d do, work closely with an Yrmak, and have an Yrmak trust him. He’d come a long way.
It was a delicate operation. Dru kept close to the other craft as it reached altitude. Ziaarn set a course, then went to the ship’s hangar bay and jumped. Astra maneuvered to catch her in a cargo sling and bring her on board.
Dru saw Ziaarn was safe, then watched as the doomed ship disappeared into the waves. It sank without a trace. Any debris would be smashed on the rocks.
While he set course for the president’s palace, Ziaarn fetched Sanur.
The man’s face was pale and drawn, his eyes could have been gazing at the pits of hell. Maybe that was where he thought he was. Ziaarn shoved him into a chair.
“Look, I didn’t want to hurt anybody. Honestly. You have to believe me.” He sniveled. Dru was almost embarrassed for him.
Kit fixed him with a stare that would have lit a fire. “There’s not a thing honest about you. You ripped off my grandparents. You tried to kidnap me. You shot at us.”
He spread his hands. “I never hurt anyone.”
Kit folded her arms. “You’re pathetic. How did you end up here? How did you follow us from Nambor Station?”
“Answer the question, Sanur? Why did you follow Kit?” He grinned. “Ziaarn won’t care if you don’t want to talk to us. There’s always the airlock. And it’s a long way down.
Sanur eyed each of them in turn. Ziaarn raised her lip to show her fangs. “I... Purrakh told me to follow you.”
“Why?”
“I... You had a map. To Drarkghon’s treasure.”
Kit’s eyebrows shot up. “That? It was gramps’s map of Dragon Island.” She laughed. “You chased us because of that.” Still chuckling, she waved her hand in a circular motion. “Carry on.”
“At Nambor I joined with Captain Cutson—”
“Cutthroat Cutson? He took you on Ice Maiden?” Dru explained to Ziaarn and Kit, “He’s a notorious... not so much a pirate. He’s more an enforcer, an assassin, not somebody you mess with. I’ve met him a couple of times.” He grinned. “You sold him on a treasure map? Oh, you’re good. Right, what then?”
“Cutson was interested in you,” Sanur shot Dru a dirty look. “We talked to Duke Alveron. He wanted to know what you were up to.”
Well, well. That answered a heap of questions. “Let me guess. Dersa was in Alveron’s pay.”
“I don’t know. Cutson told me to contact her and to track you down, find out what you were up to.”
“Huh. And when Dersa decided the treasure was real, she decided she didn’t want to share.” Dru smiled. “I don’t think you would have survived long after she got rid of Kit. Unless you got rid of her first.”
Sanur gulped and shook his head. “I don’t kill people. I haven’t done anything wrong. What are you going to do to me?”
Dru exchanged looks with Kit and Ziaarn. By rights he hadn’t done anything which would stand up in court. But they couldn’t afford to have him walking around free, knowing what he knew.
