said, but I think I’ll leave the dispensation of justice to the constable at port. It’ll be another few days. Until then, I hope you enjoy the accommodations.”
Chapter 8
Time passed. Lacy lost track of day and night in the poorly lit hold. Pain was the only constant. Her hand was useless, but that didn’t stop her from trying to use it out of habit, only to remember a moment too late when the constant aching flared into sudden agony. Her only consolation was that the captain had ordered her belongings locked in a strongbox near her cell. At least she knew where the black box was.
Imprisonment gave her time to think, to recall every word of her conversation with Rankosi. He said that the box contained a keystone, to what she had no idea, but the fact that he wanted it was enough to ensure that she would go to great lengths to prevent him from getting it.
He showed her how to open it, told her the ancient word that she needed to speak, yet it didn’t open when she tried. She played that moment over and over in her mind as well. She couldn’t explain it with words, but it felt like the box was sensing her duress, like it chose to remain closed because she was being coerced.
The implications were staggering.
The proof was in the fact that Rankosi hadn’t returned, even though she was certain he was still onboard. If the box couldn’t be opened though coercion, then she had to choose to open it. That meant he would try to trick her. It also meant she was safe, in a manner of speaking anyway. Rankosi wouldn’t kill her if he still needed her to open the box.
Rankosi had also spoken about Phane, at least she assumed he was referring to the Reishi Prince. From the sound if it, Phane wanted the contents of the box as well, but he knew something about it, something that Rankosi didn’t.
She fell asleep, playing the encounter with Rankosi over in her mind yet again and woke with a start. The muffled sounds of shouting and fighting filtered through from the upper deck. She and Drogan shared a worried look, each straining to hear what was happening.
Moments later, the hatch opened and soldiers began to stream into the lower hold where the brig was located. They were big men, brutish-looking, dressed in furs and armed with simple yet effective weapons. Lacy recognized them at once—Zuhl’s soldiers.
“Ah, there you are, Princess,” the man in the lead said. He was easily six and a half feet tall with a close-cropped black beard, bald head, and dark menacing eyes.
“I’m Commander Kahl,” he said. “Lord Zuhl has been looking for you.”
Lacy’s blood ran cold. Her face went white and she nearly fainted. All these weeks of running had come to this. Zuhl had captured her at last. She didn’t know why the ruler of the island to the north wanted her so badly, but she was certain it wouldn’t be good.
“Transfer them both to the brig on our ship,” Commander Kahl said, “and be sure to secure their possessions. Lord Zuhl is particularly interested in one of the items she’s carrying.”
“What of the rest of the passengers and crew?” the man to his right asked.
“Kill them all and sink the ship,” Kahl said. “We have what we came for. Once the prisoners are secure, set course for Crescent Bay.”
Lacy whimpered when they roughly locked the shackles around her wrists and she nearly screamed when the soldier grabbed the chain between them and dragged her from her cell toward the steep stairs leading to the upper decks. She watched in helpless horror as the rest of those aboard the refugee vessel were casually slaughtered by Zuhl’s brutes while she was led to the brig aboard the enemy warship. Men jeered and taunted her as she passed them, laughing at her predicament and speculating on how Zuhl might go about interrogating her. By the time the cold steel bars clanged shut on her new cage, she was totally dispirited. She’d failed her father, and she was probably going to die a terrible death.
Lacy Fellenden curled up on the pallet in the corner and cried herself to sleep.
***
Abigail sat atop her horse, looking out over the snow-dusted valley at the husk of Fellenden City. It was a cold, late autumn day. The first snow had just started falling from a bleak grey sky. The air was still and cold—the