Page 58 of Dark Island: Rescue
Kian nodded. "That's true, but we shouldn't be discussing it here."
Allegra chose that moment to knock over her pancake tower, sending syrup-soaked pieces across the table. The resulting chaos provided a welcome distraction as Darius laughed and Syssi grabbed napkins.
Those two would cause a lot of trouble one day.
Kian's phone buzzed again, and he checked it under the table.
Turner:Call me when you can.
"I need to make another call," Kian said. "It's regarding the same issue."
They all understood that even the private area of the mess hall wasn't safe for discussions of that nature, even though Drova or Kalugal had compelled everyone working on the island to keep what they heard and saw there a secret.
As Drova had pointed out, some people were harder to compel, and a few might be immune.
Kian walked outside, sat on the same pile of building blocks he'd sat on before, and called Turner.
"Four is impossible," Turner said without preamble. "Not under the parameters you outlined. One is doable."
Kian's stomach sank even though he'd expected exactly that answer. "I forgot to mention that Drova is here in Safe Harbor. I don't like using the kid on dangerous missions, but she has a compulsion ability that might even rival Navuh's. Perhaps with her, the impossible could become possible."
"What are you suggesting? That she arrives on theisland with a megaphone and compels everyone to stand down?"
The way Turner presented it, it sounded ridiculous.
"Never mind. Run me through your assessment."
For the next several minutes, Turner laid out the logistics in precise detail. "With Safe Harbor being so close, we might have been able to do the extraction without using a submarine and have the divers bring Tula to a yacht or some other vessel, but a sub is still safer. If Navuh checks which ships were around his island at the time of Tula's so-called suicide, it is better if he can't find any threads leading to us. Naturally, even a sub wouldn't be enough to hide our involvement if we take all four, and it would put Areana in great danger. The only way this could be even remotely feasible is if Areana agrees to leave with them. Navuh wouldn't have proof of our involvement, and even if he suspected it, it wouldn't matter as much with Areana being safe from him."
There was no way Areana would agree to leave her mate, but Kian would ask Annani to bring it up with her. On the unlikely chance she would agree, though, they would need to prepare accordingly. Extracting five people from Navuh's island meant a much larger team of divers.
"If Areana agrees to go, we will need a large sub."
"I might be able to get a larger vessel," Turner said. "But the biggest issue is convincing Areana to come. Without her, there is no plausible cover story for four people disappearing from the island. At least nothing that I can think of."
Kian closed his eyes. "So, if Areana refuses, four is off the table."
"Correct. I don't like being the bearer of bad news, but that's just the way it is. I'm good, but I'm not a miracle worker."
Kian let out a breath. "Keep thinking on it. Maybe the Fates will whisper a good idea in your ear."
21
ESAG
The olive wood shavings had formed a small pile at Esag's feet, and the dust tickled his nostrils. He really should install a window in the closet he'd converted into his workshop so fresh air could get in, but he was in no rush to do that.
It seemed fitting to sit in a windowless room while his best friend was buried under tons of sand somewhere in the Arabian Desert, and Esag had failed to have a single vision that could direct the search. Instead, he had visions of Tula.
Not that he had a problem with her visiting him that way. He just wished it were Khiann with some useful information about his whereabouts.
Esag put his carving knife down and examined the mediocre figurine in his hand. It wasn't even salvageable. He should just toss it into the shavings bin and start on a new piece of wood. Better yet, he should switch to stone, but working in that medium in the tiny, windowless workshop was not really an option.
He looked at his bedroom through the open door and considered switching the spaces around. He could sleep in the closet and convert the room to a workshop.
The sound of the doorbell ringing made him jump, scattering wood shavings across his lap. His roommates weren't home, so he needed to get up and see who the visitor was.
He rose to his feet, walked to the front door, and opened it.
