to face the werewolf. “She saved your life as well. You owe her, too.”
“She always said she was going back. They’re her people. Likely, she’s not in any real danger.”
Milo cast him a look of disbelief. “Do you believe that?”
Dylan held his gaze for a few seconds and then looked away. “No. I don’t know what they want with her—and I’ve racked my brains thinking what it could be—but I don’t think it’s anything good.” He blew out his breath. “So how do we do this?”
Milo turned away and paced the room. He was going in anyway, but it would be much easier with the doctor’s help. Right now, they didn’t even know where Destiny was. He was presuming she was back in the cells below Camelot, but he would have liked confirmation. Dr. Yang could also give them information on the number and position of the guards. Help them from the inside.
“How much time do we have?”
“We have a twenty-four-hour window. After that, the shuttle won’t get us back.”
He had an urge to move quickly, a niggling doubt that poked and prodded and told him if he didn’t go now, he would be too late. But he had to temper that urgency with patience. Destiny’s life depended on this. If he barged in there, she could die. She could die anyway. Hell, she could already be dead.
He turned back to the others. “One hour,” he said. “We’ll give the doctor one more hour, and then we’re going in.”
“Hey, who’s captain here?” Rico asked.
“Of this particular ship—not you,” Milo replied. If anyone was captain of this ship, it was Destiny. She’d discovered it, she’d got it functioning…sort of. “Dylan, you keep trying to get hold of the doctor.”
“And what will you be doing?”
“Mind your own business.” He stalked out of the room and headed for the bridge. He needed to be alone. And this was where he felt closest to Destiny. His bag was here; he pulled out his scrying bowl and filled it with water to form a shallow pool. Then he placed the bowl on the floor and sat cross-legged in front of it.
He gazed into the dark water, focused on an image of Destiny in his mind.
Show me.
For a moment nothing happened. He closed his eyes, pictured Destiny as she had looked lying beneath him in the forest, under the stars, after they’d made love. The look of wonder in her expression. He opened his eyes and concentrated on the water. An image formed.
Destiny’s face appeared. Her eyes were closed. But she was sleeping, not dead. He tried to widen the picture, to get an idea of where she lay, but it was already wavering, and then it was gone.
At least she was alive. And it didn’t look as though they had hurt her in any way.
He sat for a moment. Then he closed his eyes and concentrated on an image of Dr. Yang. When he opened his eyes, she was there, reflected in the water.
She was gagged and cuffed and lay on her side on a narrow cot. Her eyes were open, and she was staring straight ahead. Had she confronted Kinross with what Milo had told her about her family? Had Kinross had her arrested? It seemed the most likely explanation—after all, he would hardly want that information out in public. There were going to be some very unhappy people. Either way, Dr. Yang was going to be of no help to Milo.
He waved a hand over the water and the image shimmered and then disappeared.
He pushed himself to his feet. There was no point in waiting now. He might as well go in there. He would go through the tunnels and find out what he could, whether she was in her old cell, whether she was guarded. And then he’d risk magicking into the cell—he’d been there before, that always made it more accurate. He’d get Destiny and then they would go to the weapons store and neutralize that threat. Disarm the nukes and then maybe set the rest of the explosives in there to blow. Take out the whole fucking castle and Kinross in it.
There were guards everywhere in far greater numbers than Milo had previously seen. Had Kinross been waking up his sleeping army?
Two guards were stationed outside Destiny’s cell, which at least meant she was likely inside. But he couldn’t risk taking them out. If they got off any warning, then the place would be flooded by armed men very quickly.