Page 58 of Winds of Destiny

“Or you can shut up and let me do this.”

He’s annoyed. I can’t blame him—I’d be damn annoyed in his shoes, and likely a lot of other things. Annoyed is better than wallowing in his father’s betrayal, at least. Speaking of which… “We need to find the other boats.”

“I know.” After tying the bandage securely, he looks up at me. “But how? They could have been taken almost anywhere.”

Ah. He’s ascribing a lot more thought to this situation than I’m betting actually went into it. “I think it won’t be so hard,” I tell Kai. “Thinkabout it—the boats were picked up five weeks ago.”

He nods.

“What were you doing five weeks ago?”

“Setting out from Huridell for Zephyth to…” His eyebrows draw down into a glower. “Ah. You think my father timed this with Embros.”

“Actually, I think Embros was runningoutof time when he took possession of those boats.” And I was positive that he was the one to do it. If he was driving his own chariot and leading his own attacks, this man wasn’t trusting any aspect of his master plan to someone else. “I think it’s very likely he’s been using boats to move his chariots around”—which would explain how they’d disappeared into the marsh outside of Zephyth—“but he can’t be using twenty of them for that. Four or five, at the most. That means he took possession of the others, then stowed them somewhere close by until he can go back for them.” I wasn’t completely sure of my guess, but it made sense to me. “We just need to follow the river to where it meets the sea.”

“I don’t think we have much of a choice,” Kai says, and for the first time I realize that his spear is missing. “It shattered on the last turn,” he says, following my gaze. “I’ve still got my sword, though. I’ll be fine.”

“Fuckyou’ll be fine. How are your wrists not pulverized?” I demand, sitting up and grabbing his hands in mine. The skin is raw and irritated, but the joints seem to be moving just fine. It doesn’t make sense. “These ought to look like fish bait,” I mutter.

“I prayed for strength, and Carnuatu provided,” Kai says, like that’s just something people can do and get results instantly from. Then again, he keeps proving over and over that he’s special. I wonder if he realizes just how rare his connection to his god is. “That’s why I’m not worried about the rams, either.”

Shit, right, our rides.

“They’ll come back to us,” he says, correctly interpreting the doubt I must be broadcasting. “You’ll see.” He gently tugs his hands away and sits down against the unbroken side of the boat, staring off into space. His face is blank, but his skin is deathly pale and his hands are clenching and unclenching into fists. He’s probably thinking about his father.

I don’t remember my own. Doric tried to be a paternal figure, but he was my teacher first and foremost, dedicated to whipping me into shape so that I could protect Cam with my life. I don’t know what it’s like to have a parent, but I’ve seen Cam with his father, and while they disagree about a lot of things, there’s no doubt that King Perael would sooner cut his own throat than let Cam die, much less try to have him assassinated. The bond between parents and children is supposed to be one of love. Kai must be rethinking every interaction he’s ever had with his dad, wondering where it went wrong.

Cam would try to comfort him, and probably succeed. I’m not great at being comforting, but at least I can be practical. I rummage through my pack and pull out the last of the dried, seasoned mutton, searching for the pepperiest piece, and hand it over to Kai. “Eat,” I say. He does so, not fighting me on it because he’s a good soldier who knows how important it is to keep up his strength. I follow it with flatbread, a few bits of crumbling honeycake, and a canteen of water. By the end of the impromptu meal, Kai is looking better and feeling well enough to push the food back onto me.

“You need to eat as well,” he insists, and I do so because I want him to feel needed…and also because I’m ravenous. The moment I’m done with my food, the boat ride goes from gentle bumps and knocks to a sudden smoothness, even though we’re not directing things.

It’s getting dark, but there’s still enough light to see that the river has loosed us into the inland sea.

“I’ll haul us to shore.” Kai goes to jump into the water, but I grab his hand before he gets more than a single leg over the sidewall.

“Don’t,” I say, remembering the vipers that leaped at me from the water’s edge when our journey started. “The water here isn’t safe. Pry off the top few boards. We can use them as paddles.”

He does so without complaint, and a few minutes later, we awkwardly paddle over to the shoreline where the reeds are thick enough that we can bend them over and step onto them without getting our soles wet. We take our packs with us and haul our battered boat up as far as we can, and then…

“So you think they’ve got twenty or more boats packed in here somewhere?”

“I’m certain of it.” They’ll be close to the mouth of the river, a landmark that rarely moves in our age of slow, steady rains rather than the thunderstorms that must have once whipped this landscape into a frenzy. The Plains recede and grow as the seasons turn, but the river holds true. “Possibly on the east bank, but it makes more sense for them to be over here. Closer to the goal, after all.”

“Catching us on the way to Zephyth,” Kai agrees. “All right, let’s hunt them up before we lose all the light.”

It takes all of fifteen minutes to find them, even with the encroaching darkness. They’ve been covered by stacks of cut reeds that obviously won’t blow away but that are just as clearly a different texture and orientation from the reeds around them. Embros might be a genius, but he’s not fantastic at camouflage. There are sixteen large, broad boats here—larger than they could have gotten down the river, so they likely attached wheels to move them here. That’s a tremendous investment of time and resources. Whatever his ultimate goal is, Embros is taking no chances.

“Well.” Kai draws his sword. “Let’s start a fire.”

“Maybe we should save one for ourselves.” Not that another boat ride appeals, but we have no assurance that we’re going to be doing anything but walking from here on out.

Kai shakes his head. “Embros was taking Camrael south from the Gate. Even in chariots, I doubt he’s hit the sea yet. If that’s his goal, we’ll catch him before he gets there.”

Well, he’s confident. I suppose he has good reason to be.

“All right, then.” I wave at the boats. “How do you plan to—”

My voice stutters and dies as the edge of Kai’s sword suddenly gleams with fire. I stumble backward as he swings it through the air, every stroke stoking the flames until finally he’s holding what appears to be a burning lance. He hoists it up above his head, his body limned in reddish-orange light in a way that makes him look like something out of an ancient legend, then levels his sword at the boats. Fire shoots forward, catches on the piles of dry reeds, and spreads hungrily.

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