or maybe the sheer panic of seeing a comrade in pain had helped him. That seemed illogical though, like it would result in nothing but frantic flailing.
The door slammed open. Yanko glanced back, spotting a boot being retracted just before Dak leaped forward. He disappeared from sight, surging into the passageway, his blade raised. The clash of steel rang through the cabin, adding to the cacophony of noise coming from the deck above. Another cannonball slammed into the hull somewhere close.
Shouts came from the passageway and also from somewhere above—they did not sound Nurian. Were Sun Dragon’s new allies attempting to board? Or maybe someone else believed Pey Lu had retrieved the lodestone and had come to take it.
A pistol fired in the passageway. Yanko tried to spot Dak, afraid he had been hit. Nobody had cried out in pain, but Dak rarely did. Lakeo and Arayevo stood at the ready behind him, unable to get past his broad form. Though Yanko wanted to go help, he made himself turn his back, to focus on the trap. Using his mind’s eye, he could see slender invisible threads of power wrapping around it, designed to hurt whoever tried to open the box.
“So, what happens if I just trigger it?” he wondered.
Would the trap disappear once he did? Or would it reset itself? Wouldn’t his mother have already peeked inside? Maybe the other ships had arrived before she got a chance. He might be able to trigger it from a distance, from far enough away that he wouldn’t be affected by the magic.
Yanko backed up a few steps. He created a wall of air across the corner of the cabin, sealing the pile of loot behind it. At the same time, he nudged the latch upward with his meager telekinetic power. It twitched and wobbled, but he struggled to make the lid rise while also maintaining the barrier. Concentrating on two tasks at once was always difficult, and he was tempted to raise the lid, then quickly put the barrier in place, but that might be unwise.
As sword clashes and weapons fire continued in the passageway outside, he kept fiddling with the latch, trying to stay calm and tamp down frustration. The chest possessed a physical lock in addition to the magical protection. Seconds ticked past, and he sensed more men piling into the passageway outside.
He switched tactics and melted the latch instead of worrying about the lock. Metal turned molten and dripped down the side of the chest like candle wax. Finally, from four feet away, Yanko lifted the lid.
A fiery blast sprang from the box. It hammered against the barrier he had created and slammed into the ceiling with enough force to tear through the wood. Boards flew, and splinters rained down around him. Sunlight poured in from above, cutting through the smoke clouding the air around the treasure pile.
“Yanko,” Arayevo groaned. “What are you doing?”
“Triggering a trap.” Yanko slapped his forehead, cursing himself for not thinking to mold his barrier to cover the top of the pile. All he had wanted to do was protect himself and his comrades. That he had done, but—
A long-haired pirate peered through the hole in the ceiling. Yanko waved his hand, flinging smoke into the man’s eyes.
“We need to go,” Yanko called over his shoulder, as if the clangs and gunfire from the passageway hadn’t already told him that. The entire crew probably knew there were thieves in the captain’s cabin now.
Yanko darted forward, reaching for the chest. He hesitated before touching it, though he was tempted to simply grab it and run. First, he probed the outline with his mind, checking to see if the trap had reset. It hadn’t, but a sick feeling came over him. He no longer felt the presence of magic. The lodestone had to be magic if it could guide people to a missing continent. Had he simply been sensing the power of the trap itself?
“We have to go,” came Dak’s voice from the passageway.
He sounded calm, though the clash of swords punctuated his words. Arayevo grabbed a loaded flintlock pistol from the wall over the bed. She leaned around Dak and fired at someone. As Yanko picked up the box, he checked the passageway with his mind. Dead men sprawled all over the deck, three high in spots, but more were crowding into the area, trying to get at Dak. Trying to protect their treasure, Yanko realized grimly. They were so desperate to do so that