of trepidation, but determination as well.
“Drop your weapons.”
Yanko tossed his borrowed sword to the deck, where it joined Sun Dragon’s blade, the fancy scimitar no longer glowing.
“It’s possible I could help with the, uh...” Yanko flicked his fingers toward the interior of the ship, though he didn’t even know where the boiler room was. Dak’s tour hadn’t been that thorough.
“Shut up,” one of the older soldiers approaching him said, his finger tight on the trigger of his rifle. “And take off that dress.”
“It’s not a weapon,” Yanko said.
“Ancestor’s piss, it isn’t. And don’t even think of touching that sword.”
“I think they saw what you did,” Lakeo muttered, that rare note of awe in her voice again. It was the same tone she’d had when she had realized he’d called up a kraken to destroy a ship. Once again, he did not feel it was deserved. He’d done nothing but nudge an already-building magical charge over the edge.
He shook his head, as much for her as for the soldiers. He had no wish to remove his clothes, especially with lava raining down—even as he had the thought, one of the soldiers yelped when a clod of lava landed on his shoulder, burning through his uniform.
“That wasn’t a request,” the older soldier said, not realizing he was echoing Sun Dragon’s earlier words.
Yanko thought about disarming the men, knocking the rifles aside, or flinging an image of fire into their minds, but with everything else going on, did he truly want to pick a fight? He couldn’t levitate all the way home any more than Sun Dragon could have, and as long as Dak was still alive and on the ship, Yanko shouldn’t be locked up indefinitely. Or killed.
Yanko unbelted the mage robe and tugged the garment over his head. The soldiers waved for him to strip off his tunic and silk trousers, too, leaving him with only his knee-length smallclothes. They searched even those for hidden weapons. He shivered, enduring the torment. Nothing protected his torso from the spattering lava or the cold wind that had started up.
“This way, wizard,” the Turgonian growled, leaving the clothes in a heap and jerking his head toward the stairs.
“Is the boiler still in danger of blowing up?” Yanko did not want to be locked in a cell if the ironclad might explode all around him.
“Yes.”
Yanko hesitated. Four of the soldiers came forward, two disarming Arayevo and two more hoisting the mage hunter to her feet.
“Get them into the brig,” the senior soldier ordered.
Someone shoved Yanko toward the steps. Once again, he thought about fighting back, about diving overboard, but he told himself that he could escape from a mundane iron-barred cell at any time, with or without his robe. He would go along for now, stay out of the way, and hope to talk to Dak later. If he got a chance, he could tell Dak he might be able to help with the boiler problem. Once he had a quiet moment in his cell, maybe he could even discern the problem with his senses and help solve it.
Yanko looked back at the sea as the soldiers pushed him toward the steps. He faltered, almost tripping. The lava was still spewing, but it wasn’t the only thing that had broken the surface. In the distance, perhaps two miles away, a ridge had risen above the water, stretching as far as the eye could see to the east and west. The crest of that underwater mountain range.
Someone jabbed him in the back with a rifle muzzle, forcing him to continue walking.
If the ironclad did not blow up, and if it did not get stuck on the emerging land, maybe Yanko would be able to see this new continent coming into existence from a porthole in his jail cell.
Chapter 25
They did not take Yanko, Lakeo, and Arayevo to the brig, not right away. Before they made it below decks, the first rock—or mountaintop—scraped at the hull of the ironclad. Half of the soldiers escorting them raced off, called away to duty stations. The other half forced Yanko and his friends to stand against a bulkhead on the main deck. The mage hunter stood with them, leaning against the wall, a hand to her stomach, blood staining her fingers. Her eyes were closed, her jaw clenched as she breathed deeply, dealing with her pain and ignoring everything around her. More soldiers than seemed necessary pointed their rifles at Yanko’s chest. He was tempted to point out that the