Snake Heart (Chains of Honor #2) -Lindsay Buroker Page 0,95

maybe she herself wouldn’t have been injured.

When Gramon grew even with Dak, he looked over at the man—they were of similar heights and builds, and one might almost take them for brothers. Dak glared back, the curl to his lip making it clear he would like to kill the pirate—all pirates. At first, Gramon’s return glare was equally baleful, but then a jolt of surprise went through him. Of recognition? Nothing similar crossed Dak’s face, and Gramon recovered and continued on without speaking.

“Are you all right, Yanko?” Arayevo jogged over to him, gripped his arm, and looked him up and down for injuries.

“Fine,” he mumbled, watching Gramon continue down the beach. Dak’s hard eye turned to follow them, as well, and he kept his purloined pistol in hand, though down at his side.

“Why wouldn’t he be fine?” Lakeo asked. “He fell off a cliff and got attacked by a warrior mage and an infamous pirate.”

“That was her, wasn’t it?” Arayevo stared after Pey Lu, though she was barely visible around Gramon’s broad back. “Will she live? Did you do that, Yanko?”

“Not me.” Yanko waved a hand toward the place where the mage hunter had hidden, waiting for an opportunity to strike, like a viper.

Before he could decide if he wanted to explain further, a familiar squawk came from the sky. Kei soared toward them, flapping more vigorously than usual to stay aloft. He still carried the lodestone in his talons, though the paperclips had fallen off somewhere. He dropped the rock as he flew past Yanko. He caught it and stared down at the artifact. Even though he once again felt its pull, and the power within it sang to his senses, he found it hard to believe that so many people had died to find the thing. How many more people would die before this was over? He eyed Dak warily, well aware that the Turgonian ships that his mother had promised were Yanko’s only way off the island. Maybe that was why Dak did no more than glance at the lodestone.

Kei circled, landed on his shoulder, and spoke a stream of Kyattese words as he shook out his talons like a scribe shaking a cramped writing hand.

“That wasn’t one of his usual terms,” Arayevo said. “Does he actually know something besides insults?”

“He said, ‘More worthless than a pregnant whore,’” Dak translated. “Referring to the lodestone, I assume, not Yanko.”

Arayevo blinked. “It’s hard to believe the Kyattese had a citizen crusty enough to teach the bird to say those kinds of things.”

Dak grunted. “Honest enough, is more like it. Those people don’t speak plainly very often.”

The pirate boats had all left the beach by the time Yanko and the others reached the water’s edge. As his mother and Gramon disappeared onto their ship, the first Turgonian ironclad came into view, clouds of black smoke wafting from the twin stacks protruding from its deck. It had neither sails nor the elegance of a wooden ship, and Yanko couldn’t see its black hull as anything but ominous as it followed the contours of the island, heading for an anchoring spot in front of the beach. The situation felt even more ominous when several more black-hulled ships came into view, following the first.

The pirate vessels sailed off before the ironclads drew close. Yanko wondered if he might have been better off going with them.

Dak headed toward the water, a spring in his step that did not match Yanko’s mood. Happy at the idea of being reunited with his people, was he? He did not look back as he strode away. Just trusting Yanko to follow?

“Are we going with him?” Arayevo asked quietly.

Yanko peered toward the cliffs behind them. They could climb up, the same way the mage hunter had, but to what end? The island was not that large, and with that many ships, the Turgonians could bring a hundred men ashore to search for Yanko. If he went along peacefully, Dak might arrange for Yanko, Arayevo, and Lakeo to have a cabin, rather than a cell. A cabin would be easier to escape from if an opportunity arose. Though as more ironclads steamed into view, Yanko could not imagine what that opportunity might be. Even his mother, assuming she survived her injury, wouldn’t be so foolish as to take on an entire Turgonian fleet.

“Yanko?” Arayevo bumped his arm.

“Yes. We’ll go with him.” Yanko sighed and trudged after Dak.

Chapter 21

The wooden longboat was simple, unassuming, and unthreatening compared to the massive iron