Page 10 of Lhora
Duren slowly shook his head. “It won’t do you any good, Lhora.”
“Why not? What are you talking about?”
“Your people made a serious mistake in allowing us to keep our weapons.”
She stared at him, then realized he hadn’t gone for his sword. In fact, he’d made no overt threatening gesture other than take a few steps in her direction. She hesitated, and at that moment she sensed another presence.
She began to whirl around to defend herself when something struck the back of her head. There was a flash of white pain. She never got the chance to wield her weapon before she collapsed.
6
Hostage
The floor was warm beneath her cheek. She felt vibrations rolling underneath her body, and the place smelled rank. She didn’t need three guesses to figure out she was on a ship, or whose ship.
It took a bit of effort before she managed to roll onto her side. She ached all over. Every muscle, every joint gave off sparks, firing her flesh like it was tinder. Duren had taken her down without moving a muscle. Without drawing his sword.
Sword.
She managed to drag a hand over her hip. As she’d suspected, she’d been relieved of her weapon.
How had he managed to knock her out? Did the Coltrosstians have an ability no one knew about? Or was it something they had only recently been able to do?
The image of Duren’s face, and that grin he wore right before she’d been overtaken, made her stomach churn. He’d led her into a trap, and on her own soil! The irony tasted bitter.
Closing her eyes, Lhora reached inside herself and sought her father, but all she felt was darkness. Wherever she was, she was too far away to reach him. Concentrating, she pushed herself harder and tried to connect with another torgart, any torgart, who would then send her plea for help through their inner connected network until he received it.
She was met with cold, limitless blackness.
Little by little she tried moving her fingers, her toes, her arms, then her legs. The pain continued to wash through her, but it was gradually diminishing. Her head ached, but whatever they’d done to her wasn’t permanent, thankfully. Lying on her back, she stared up at the ceiling. Yes, she had to be on a Coltrosstian ship. Beinight ships didn’t have that kind of hull plating.
How long had she been out? How long had it been since they left Montismet? The floor vibrated again. Past experience had taught her it more than likely signaled the raising of the solar sails. If that was the case… “We’ve left Beinight. Or we’re about to.”
The vibration shifted, proving her original theory. They were above the land mass and probably angling upward to follow one of the magnetic currents toward Coltross.
What was happening at the manse? Were they aware she was gone? Did they have any knowledge of who had taken her?
“How did they manage to get me out of the manse?” she murmured softly. If any guard had seen her unconscious form being hauled away by a Coltrosstian, they would have fought the men to retrieve her.
Unless they managed to overpower and kill the guards.
She turned onto her side. Too many things didn’t make sense, and none of them added up.
“Wait. One thing does. They may have an ability I knew nothing about. And I’m willing to bet my parents don’t know, either. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have allowed the Sarpi and his men to be in the manse. They let them keep their weapons, believing they wouldn’t use them, and they were right. They didn’t use them. They used…”
She sensed someone nearing. There was a click behind her, and a pale light entered the room. She remained still as she opened herself to whoever was checking up on her.
“We know you’re awake. We saw you move on the monitors.”
Duren.
Rather than attempt to sit up, she rolled over to glare at him. “Explain yourself,” she bitterly ordered.
“What’s there to explain?” He crouched down, yet remained what was probably a safe distance away from her. Apparently they also knew she was close to recovering from whatever they’d used to overcome her.
Whatever they’d used.
“How did you manage to take me out?”
