Wave-Touched, page 24
The words wouldn’t pass her lips. Someone shoved their arms up under hers with no apparent concern for her comfort and lifted her.
One man glanced at the mess of pastries and wine on the floor and smirked. “Didn’t waste any time, did they?”
Had this all been a setup? Jiyan arriving with the wine exactly when she had. Darith expressing remorse for Kitria’s plight. But they hadn’t opened that wine. She wanted to ask again where the other bottle and pastries had come from, but she couldn’t speak, and she doubted Kitria was in any state to answer.
“Get her to the boat,” a male voice behind her ordered. “Hurry. We need to be on our way before the Unclean attack.”
The Unclean!
Terror spiked for herself and for her people, but she could do nothing. Whatever drug they had given her left her as helpless as an infant. A sedative of some kind, given how groggy she felt, with apparent paralytic qualities. She was entirely at their mercy. That they were moving her somewhere suggested they at least didn’t expect it to kill her, as little comfort as that was.
“What about the other two?” a female guard asked.
“Bring them.” This voice she recognized extremely well after listening to it so many evenings in forced darkness. Dampener Erkhan. “We can dump them overboard later if they don’t prove useful.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
When they allowed her feet to touch the ground outside, Veyl found she still had a small amount of muscle control. Enough for what equated to a drunken stumble if someone else held her upright. Since she had no desire to go wherever they were taking her, she didn’t even give them that. Instead, she dug her heels in to make it harder until one of the larger men simply picked her up and carried her to where two boats waited on the beach with more Thaelian soldiers, cursing under his breath the whole way.
He dropped her into one boat when they got there, bruising her hip on the edge of a bench, and climbed in along with Erkhan and two others. The rest tossed Gannon and Kitria even less gently into the second boat, and the two groups wasted no time heading out from shore and north along the cliffs where the Dampener had worked with Veyl on controlling her ability.
Barely able to move and still unable to make her voice obey her, Veyl stared up at the towering rock wall, tears welling in her eyes. Was Jinau dead? The cutting sensation she felt in her chest before they dragged him into the house suggested he was. Who had sent the other wine and the pastries? Were the councilors behind this? They almost had to be, given that she appeared to be their target and she probably wouldn’t have gone to visit Kitria this night if they hadn’t brought her up. Had someone warned them about the intended coup, or were they merely putting into action a hidden plot of their own? And how were the Ukhen’kya involved?
This time, the motion of the waves was unwelcome. The small boats followed the line of the cliffs, then turned out to where a fleet of six ships waited in the nighttime waters with no lanterns lit upon the decks to draw attention to their presence. The group Veyl was with climbed aboard first, the crew using ropes to help one of the larger men bring her up.
Eavara approached them, her stony gaze offering no insight. Her expression held neither guilt nor gloating. “How much time do we have?”
Erkhan stepped past Veyl and the man holding her upright. “The Ukhen’kya were heading toward the port side to attack the Vanrian fleet when we left. We need to depart now.”
At that moment, an explosion rang out from the direction of the port, a gout of flame rising into the night, lighting up the horizon. Panic raced through Veyl, giving her a burst of strength she used to pull free of the man supporting her. Faint lightning crackled as her ability struggled to rise. The man she had jerked away from struck her across the face with enough force to send her sprawling on the hard wood of the deck. Before she could get her bearings, he fell to his knees next to her, holding his stomach and throwing up.
“If you or anyone else dares to hit her again, I will run you through,” Jaysen shouted. “Do you understand?”
Jaysen?
Her stomach twisted into knots when she looked up at him, his dark auburn hair in disarray from the stiff breeze, wild rage flashing in his eyes. The throbbing in her jaw wasn’t nearly enough to distract from the visceral terror that raced through her at the prospect of being his prisoner. Somehow, that frightened her more than the idea of being taken by the Thaelian council. Perhaps because, for all that they were manipulative and selfish, at least they appeared sane. She wasn’t sure of that with him anymore.
“She was drawing on her ability even with the drug,” Eavara snapped, coming to the man’s defense.
“Where’s the Havaad-cursed Bondmaker and that Feral? Find them now and move her to a room!”
“What about these two?” Eavara asked.
Veyl tried to turn and see where Gannon and Kitria were, but the effort proved too much. Instead, she rested her throbbing cheek against the cool wood of the deck, closing her eyes and reaching deep within to search for the flicker of power that once again eluded her.
“Take them below and lock them up. They may yet prove useful.”
She opened her eyes as Erkhan lifted her with more consideration this time.
Jaysen was staring at her, his jaw set. After a second, he scowled and turned to Eavara. “Shouldn’t you be sailing us out of here, Ahnkreth?”
“As per your orders, Majesty.” Eavara gave a stiff bow and stalked away, shouting commands to the crew.
Jaysen also walked off as rain started falling, fat raindrops pattering noisily on the wood deck. At least she knew now who had betrayed them to the council. Warm tears slipped down her cheeks to mix with the rain. Her tehnaak, her best friend and confidant as a child, was truly gone, twisted into this. She could only hope Arhk survived the night so that, someday, they could kill the stranger Jaysen had become together.
***
“Veyl.”
She crawled awake from a nightmare in which Jaysen had betrayed them, her thoughts thick and sluggish, only to open her eyes and find that it was real. He sat on the edge of the bed in a cramped secondary officer’s cabin, the rocking of the ship on the water confirming her fate. A strange Thaelian woman, her dark brunette hair braided back into a long tail, stood near the door, a wave dancer next to her with eyes the color of sea foam. Its head cocked inquisitively to one side when Veyl looked at it.
“Good morning,” Jaysen said, his flat expression giving no life to the greeting.
Veyl struggled upright, her muscles still heavy from the aftereffects of whatever they had drugged her with. It was worth the strenuous effort to move a little away from him and lean against the wall.
“Jaysen,” she breathed, nausea rising along with her words, “what have you done?”
“I told the council what Vanris was planning and offered them an alternative.” He presented the information casually, as though discussing a change in the weather and not an act of vilest treachery.
“What alternative?”
A smile curved his lips, though the expression didn’t reach his eyes. “The council, along with many of the mind-crafters and soldiers who support them, and you, are going to help me take back my throne from Thrasser. In return, Sarket will ensure that Thaelis remains theirs.”
She swallowed, trying hard not to be sick. “This is madness.”
“Is it? Thrasser has already established a cooperative stance with the Thaelians, so arriving in their company should provide me the opportunity to reach Sarket’s shores and start spreading word of Thrasser’s treason before he even knows I’m alive. With the promise of backing from Vanris, reinforced by our pending marriage, I will soon have my throne.”
“There is no pending marriage.” She put a hand to her stomach, his words worsening her nausea. “My family will never stand behind this, especially if you mean to subvert their efforts in dealing with Thaelis.”
He chuckled. “I expect they’ll be more upset by our subversion of their plans for you. By the time news reaches them about what happened last night, it will be too late. Besides, if we allow this to escalate into fighting, the presence of mind-crafters on both sides, along with Sarket’s alchemical weapons, will lead to substantial loss of life. You and I can prevent that. This isn’t as upsetting as it may seem right now. You,” he paused, taking her hand, “will soon remember that you love me. Once we reach land, you will send word to your family stating that you wish to renounce the throne and marry me. As wedding gifts, you will request that they withdraw from Thaelis and elevate Sarket as a Vanrian ally.” He gave her hand a painful squeeze then. “And if the damage Kyril and his people inflicted on your memories doesn’t fade enough for you to realize that you want this too, there are Evokers and Charmers in this fleet who can fix that.”
Veyl jerked her hand away, his words stealing the air from her lungs. A careless Evoker, given free rein to alter her memories, could do enormous damage. Her ability responded, albeit reluctantly, to her rising panic, slowly crackling to life in her chest.
The wave dancer stood with a whine, and the Feral by the door set a hand on the beast’s head, giving Veyl a frosty look. “Don’t even think about it, Khesran.”
“Pardon my manners. I forgot to introduce you.” Jaysen gestured to the woman by the door. “This is Feral Ahninveth Heshara. She now holds a zenyal bond over you. Although I hate to continue that practice, with your ability as unpredictable as it is and with the mess they clearly made of your mind, I’m afraid we can’t risk letting you be without one yet. And as an extra precaution…” He picked up a mug from the small bedside table and swirled the contents. “For now, I must ask you to drink this. It is a lighter dose than what you received last night.”
She eyed the mug warily. “No.”
“Veyl.” He adopted the tone of a parent about to lose their patience.
“I will not drink that. You cannot keep me drugged forever.”
“Not forever. Just for now. If you refuse, I’ll have to call in a Charmer. And you might wish to keep in mind that the experience Gannon and Kitria have on this journey depends entirely on how cooperative you are.”
Veyl leaned over the side of the bed and threw up.
Jaysen watched impassively, offering her the mug again when she straightened.
“Am I to understand that the Ukhen’kya attacked our fleet?” she asked, wiping her mouth with the back of one trembling hand.
Jaysen pulled a kerchief out of his vest and offered it to her. When she had cleaned herself and passed it back, he silently held the mug out to her once more.
Recognizing it for the transaction it was, her obedience in exchange for the answers she wanted, Veyl accepted it and swallowed the contents, her hands trembling with suppressed rage.
“Good girl.” Jaysen took the mug back and returned it to the bedstand. “Yes. They were to cripple the Delaphinian ships and provide a distraction in the port to keep eyes off the other side of the island so we could make our escape. I’m hoping they also thinned the Vanrian ranks in the conflict.”
Hatred soared in her, bitter and nauseating. “But how?”
“That’s the best part.” He stood and walked toward the door. “It turns out that the Thaelian councilors have been in communication with the Ukhen’kya for years. The Unclean attacks have helped them to thin out insurgents over time and keep control of the populace. They had them waiting nearby in case fighting broke out when the Vanrians arrived.”
Veyl clenched her hands in the bedcovers, fighting the urge to throw up again. “The explosions?”
“The warehouse where they stored the firebombs Kyril’s fleet brought back from Sarket. I arranged that. There was a certain poetry to my destroying the merchandise Thrasser used to try buying my death. It also made for a dramatic distraction, and I didn’t want the Thaelians figuring out how to make their own.”
“My people were on those ships, Jaysen. My grandfather. My friends.” Her voice cracked. “How could you? How could you do to me what they did to us?”
“I do have them to thank for the idea and its execution. This is for the best, Veyl. You will recognize that in time.” He opened the door and stopped in the doorway, not looking at her. “I’ll send someone to clean up the mess and have food brought in to help settle your stomach. Get some rest.”
Veyl pulled her knees to her chest, trying to keep the pressure of her sorrow from bursting free. She had to think. Somehow, she had to stop this. But it was done. She had no way of knowing what losses the Ukhen’kya had inflicted upon the allied fleet. Was Arhk alive? If so, did he have enough ships in working order to give chase? Or was she on her own? For now, she had to assume no help was coming.
Her gaze shifted to the wave dancer. “What’s his name?”
“Her name is none of your business.”
Veyl lowered her gaze. Already, the drug was making her drowsy and unfocused again. How long did Jaysen intend to keep her this way? Perhaps he planned to have someone hold her upright at their wedding.
She let out a bitter laugh and leaned her head back against the wall, brushing away an errant tear.
***
The next several days passed in a hazy blur. Any attempt to resist further doses of the drug they countered with threats of a Charmer’s intervention or harm done to Gannon and Kitria. Veyl remained locked in the room with the Feral. She desperately wanted out, but with the sedative, she was too uncoordinated and weak to force the issue. The constant low-grade nausea left her with little appetite, which compounded her weakness. But what she hated most about the drug was how it destroyed her ability to focus. A side effect that seemed to grow worse with each consecutive dose. She would try to think about or do something, and her mind would slip away to some other place. Several minutes later, she would remember that she had been trying to puzzle out this problem or complete that task and need to start over, only to go through the same process when her mind inevitably drifted again. Her waking hours were exercises in frustration that often left her curled on the bed in tears.
Jaysen didn’t return. Nor did anyone she recognized over the course of those days. If she remembered correctly how many times they had given her the drug, they were about five days into the journey when Councilor Shyall came to visit one morning.
Veyl retreated to the farthest corner of the bed and glared at the woman as she entered.
“Khesran Veyl. I understand you are upset about all of this, but I can assure you it is not what the council wanted, either. Your people really left us no choice. We had truly hoped you would come to see the good of Thaelis and agree to stay as a member of the council. With your bloodline and ability, you would have been greatly respected by our people. Now you shall be wasted in wedlock to a foreigner.”
“We left you no choice? Look at what you did to us. If you hadn’t…” she trailed off, struggling to recapture the point she had been about to make. Her gaze drifted to the beast alongside Heshara by the door. The wave dancer was lighter in build than Ceris. She did look more feminine, really, with a more slender snout and fine ears that had a delicate taper to them. She was a magnificent creature.
“Khesran?”
Veyl startled, genuinely surprised to find Shyall there watching her. “This drug… Does it…” The words drifted away from her.
“Build up with use?” Shyall offered, continuing when Veyl nodded. “It does, though it will wear off in time once they stop giving it to you. It’s made from a substance found in a scent pouch under the shell of the female ket’ta. The Ukhen’kya use it to keep their sacrifices subdued during harvest ceremonies.”
Veyl latched onto that subject. “Why would you work with them?”
Shyall’s brow furrowed. “Because we were their prey. They hunted us for their harvest and took those they caught home to be butchered and eaten. Every year following their first appearance, we struggled to protect our people from them. When we fought back, they punished us with the Devastation. We no longer had enough soldiers left to protect everyone after that. If we had a greater number of mind-crafters than we do, we might have found another way.”
Her gaze turning inward, Shyall stared at nothing as she continued. “And that wasn’t our only problem. There were whispers of rebellion on the wind, so we reached out to the Ukhen’kya and made a bargain with them. From then on, we had our spies locate subversives and tell the Unclean where to attack to target those elements. A few times, we have taken people we knew were part of that developing uprising from their homes, claiming they exhibited signs of Devastation sickness and had to be quarantined. We gave them to the Unclean as well. It has served to eliminate those who would undermine our leadership and keep the Ukhen’kya from attacking the rest… most of the time.”
Veyl struggled to follow everything she was saying, but the message was clear enough. “You feed your own people to them to maintain power?”
Shyall shrugged again, avoiding her gaze. “Never innocents.”
“As determined by you,” Veyl spat.
The councilor drew a deep breath. “I did not come here to defend our actions to you. The council needs to know if you love that man.”
Veyl’s brows pinched. “That man?”
“Prince… King Jaysen.” The edge of disdain in her voice suggested a powerful dislike for the man they had allied themselves with.
Unease prickled up Veyl’s spine. The answer to that question had significance that she wasn’t sure she possessed the clarity of mind to fully understand in her drugged state. Her conversation with Jaysen from several days ago felt like a fever dream now. Though some parts of it were upsetting enough to have stuck with her like slivers under her fingernails. Jaysen planned to marry her, and he expected that to be the path through which he both secured Vanris’s support and got her people out of Thaelis. That last point was important here. That was why it mattered to this woman.
But she loved Kyril. At least now, with the council out of Thaelis, he would no longer be facing execution. Arhk would have destroyed the Ukhen’kya and set Kyril free. She had to believe that.
