Snake Heart (34 page)

Dak had asked the question in Nurian, but the admiral responded in Turgonian.

“Our Nurian diplomat hasn’t been able to find a lost continent,” Dak translated for Yanko.

Yanko wasn’t sure why he warranted a translation this time, but he was pleased to have one.

“Diplomat?” Lakeo asked. “Is that what he calls himself? That man is about as diplomatic as an ass in need of scratching.”

The admiral looked at her, his eyebrows raised.

“No need to translate back,” Yanko muttered to Dak.

Join me up here, White Fox,
Sun Dragon spoke into his head.

Uh. No, thank you?

It was not a request.

Whatever it was, Yanko decided to ignore it. He felt far safer with his comrades at his side than he would up there alone with Sun Dragon. Besides, he saw no reason to chat with the man who had been trying to kill him for weeks.

I am willing to give you a chance to live
, Sun Dragon added.

Your generosity is warmer than the sun’s rays.

You’ve been spending too much time with Turgonians. You’ve forgotten your manners and how to address a superior.

A superior? Yanko would allow that Sun Dragon was an
elder
, but not a
superior
. He certainly did not deserve Yanko’s regard after their past skirmishes.

I think you need something from me,
Yanko said,
and that’s the only reason you haven’t tried to roast me with a fireball yet.

What would a child such as yourself have that I need?

I’m strong in earth magic.

Like an old woman, I’ve noticed.

Yes, keep insulting me. I’ll be sure to trot up there to your aid.

Stay where you are then,
Sun Dragon said, sneering into Yanko’s mind.
I do not need your aid. You will die along with the Turgonians.

Yanko shifted, the railing prodding into his spine.
What do you mean? The Turgonians on this ship?

Sun Dragon’s sneer turned into a smile.
All of the ships.

Why? How?

Sun Dragon did not answer either question. The ironclad changed course, turning a few degrees to the east, the sun shadows shifting position on the deck. To avoid some underwater threat? The man in the crow’s nest hadn’t called down a warning recently. Was Sun Dragon directing the helmsman, influencing his mind as he had done with the admiral?

“Admiral?” Yanko asked before realizing he was interrupting a quiet discussion between Dak and Ravencrest.

Both men frowned at him.

“Sorry, Honored Admiral.” Yanko offered an apologetic bow, but pressed on. “Why are there so many ships along for what you must have suspected was a pointless mission?”

Ravencrest frowned at Dak, who translated, then answered himself before the admiral could. Actually, given the man’s headshake, the admiral hadn’t planned to answer.

“I requested help from the Turgonian embassy on Kyatt,” Dak said. “At the time, I wasn’t sure how many ships Snake Heart claimed. I assumed we needed a force large enough to scare her off. Ravencrest was running war exercises in our seas already, so it didn’t take long to gather the needed numbers.”

“But why are they
still
here?” Yanko asked.

Dak asked the admiral. Ravencrest’s brow furrowed, then he replied sturdily with a one-word answer.

“Training exercise,” Dak said, not taking his eye from the admiral. Apparently, it was two words in Nurian.

“Could Sun Dragon have influenced him?” Yanko asked quietly.

“Possibly. But why would he want more warships down here instead of fewer? There shouldn’t be any enemies to encounter. Sailors avoid this area.” Dak spread his hand toward the waters, then lowered it, along with his voice. “Unless you think he’s considering
us
enemies right now.”

“What if the land lifted up while your ships were on it?”

“At the least, we would be stranded. If the upheaval was violent, it could be worse. But what power could the man possess that would allow him to do such a thing? If your people were
that
strong, we’d never beat them at war.”

“Not our people—the Kyattese. They’re the ones who made the artifact.”

Judging by Dak’s skeptical expression, he didn’t think the Kyattese could field anyone stronger than Sun Dragon. Maybe he was right. But the history texts said they had been the first Makers, their practitioners figuring out how to hold magic within items such as that lodestone. If enough of them had worked together to hide this continent, might they have created a tool with enough power to unhide it someday? They must have figured they might want to come back.

“Why don’t you and I go chat with Sun Dragon, Dak?” Yanko said. “And feel free to bring as many burly Turgonians as you like.”

“Do we get to come along?” Lakeo asked.

“Sure. You’re burly enough.”

“Thanks,” she said dryly.

“What do you think Sun Dragon will reveal?” Dak asked.

“Out loud, where you can hear him? I’m not sure. He likes to chat in my head. He offered to keep me alive if I went up to join him.”

“Magnanimous of him.”

“That’s what I thought.”

Yanko started for the steps that led atop the forecastle, pausing only to make sure Dak followed. He didn’t want to be caught up there alone with Sun Dragon. Dak, Arayevo, and Lakeo were following him. He took solace in the support and allowed himself some confidence as he strode up the steps. That confidence faltered when he reached the top, for he found not only Sun Dragon but the white-clad mage hunter up there, her hair bound again, her hood pulled up so only her face showed. She stood to the side of Sun Dragon and watched Yanko with impassive eyes.

Bodyguard, her stance said.

Well, he had a bodyguard, too, and he would pit Dak against her in any fight. He just wished he was as certain that he could come out ahead in a fight against Sun Dragon.

The graying mage stood at the railing, his elbow propped upon it, his chin resting on the lodestone. He wore a backpack, along with an ornate scimitar that hung in a wide scabbard on the belt that cinched his crimson robe shut. White and golden hems filled with runes adorned that robe, reminding Yanko much of the one he wore.

“Planning a trip, Sun Dragon?” Dak asked, flicking a hand toward the pack.

“Yes, very soon now,” Sun Dragon said without looking back at him. “We’re almost there.”

Can you feel it, White Fox?
he added silently.

Yanko felt the presence of the lodestone, but, assuming the mage had more in mind, he let his senses trickle downward. They were approaching an underwater volcano, with lava oozing out of fissures in the earth’s crust. All manner of strange vegetation grew around the steamy water. Intrigued by the underwater growth, Yanko almost missed the more obvious thing down there: a pulsing crater that he felt with his mind, its magic almost pulling at him.

He walked to the railing, half expecting to see some sign of it down there with his eyes. Quiet waves lapped at the black hull of the ironclad. The water and the depths hid everything else from mundane sight.

“It’s calling for the key,” Sun Dragon whispered, pressing his lips to the lodestone. “It’s been waiting for centuries.”

Yanko stepped closer to him, an inkling of what the man intended growing in his mind. What would happen, indeed, if the land rose up while the Turgonian fleet floated over it? As Dak had admitted, nothing good.

Before he drew close to Sun Dragon, the mage hunter moved to intercept Yanko. Dak moved to intercept
her
. A throwing star appeared in one of her hands, a dagger in the other. Dak drew a cutlass he had acquired since boarding the ship. The two of them stared at each other.

“It’s time,” Sun Dragon said, glancing toward the mage hunter, then smiling at Yanko. “It wants to be returned to its home. I don’t think it will take any earth magic, after all. Just a good toss.”

He lifted his arm, like a hunter about to throw a spear. The lodestone flared golden in his hand.

Yanko lunged for him, afraid of what would happen to all the ships that floated behind them. Metal clashed to his side, Dak engaging the hunter. Yanko caught Sun Dragon’s shoulder, but not before he hurtled the lodestone into the water.

Chapter 24

A
s soon as the lodestone tumbled into the water, Sun Dragon spun toward Yanko, his hands flaring with the orange of flame. Yanko wrapped a protective shield around himself and backed up, wanting time to react. Perhaps it was the wrong move. Smiling tightly, Sun Dragon seemed to think it a sign of fear. He lunged for Yanko, flames eating the air all around him.

With his barriers up, Yanko did not feel the heat. He made a scoop of air with his mind and pulled water from the sea below. It floated up and doused Sun Dragon.

His flames were powerful enough to burn even while water saturated his robe, but he snarled at Yanko, clearly annoyed with the trick. He raised both hands and hurled a blast of fire. It battered Yanko’s shield, but he was getting better at repelling attacks. His opponent was not weak by any measure, but he lacked the pure power that Pey Lu had thrown at Yanko.

Sun Dragon drew his scimitar, and an eerie silver glow ran along the blade like fire. He swiped it at Yanko, who didn’t even have a knife. He was, after all, a prisoner on this ship.

Yanko jumped back before the blade sliced through his gut—it had no trouble slicing through the shield he had created. Sun Dragon hurled another fireball at him, following it with an attack from the sword. Once again, Yanko could deflect the fire, but he had to skitter back to avoid the cut. His back struck the railing. He was aware of Dak and the assassin fighting, neither sparing a glance for him and Sun Dragon.

As Sun Dragon raised the sword for an overhead blow, one that would have cracked down on Yanko’s skull since he was out of room to run, Lakeo came out of nowhere, barreling into the mage’s side. She caught him by surprise, shoving him against the railing. Sun Dragon snarled and flung his arm, hurling power along with it. She was blasted from her feet. She crashed into Arayevo, who’d also been coming to help, and they tumbled to the deck together.

“Yanko,” Arayevo barked. She threw him a cutlass.

He had no idea where she’d gotten it, but he caught it by the hilt. At the least, he could deflect the wicked scimitar with it.

Sun Dragon turned back toward him. “I’ve wanted to kill you for weeks, boy,” he snarled, spinning his scimitar in one hand, as if he were performing tricks for some awed backwoods audience at a traveling stunt show.

“Why?” Yanko asked. “Killing me doesn’t change any of the things my mother has done in her life.” He didn’t even know if that was why Sun Dragon hated him, but it seemed to be why the rest of the world hated him.

“But it will
hurt
her, the bitch. Especially now that she’s met you.”

Yanko felt bewildered. It wasn’t as if Pey Lu had cooed over him and leaped for joy at their reunion.

Lakeo tried to charge Sun Dragon again, but she crashed into a wall of air. As Sun Dragon advanced on Yanko, soldiers ran up the steps, rifles in hand. A wall of flame burst into the air in front of them, and they halted. One tried to leap through it, not to get to Yanko, but to reach Dak, probably to help
him
, but the man bounced off the way Lakeo had.

Yanko lowered into a fighting crouch, sensing he was on his own with Sun Dragon. He didn’t know how much time he had, since he could feel something happening below the surface. Through magic rather than throwing accuracy, the lodestone had found its home within that crater, the spot that had pulsed with magical energy. Now, the entire top of that volcano seemed to pulse. The waves on the surface barely stirred, but Yanko could feel the magic resounding in his mind like a drumbeat. If Sun Dragon worried about what he had started, it did not show on his face.

He lashed out at Yanko, the scimitar in his right hand and a ball of fire burning above the palm of his left. Yanko deflected the blade strike, turning his side to Sun Dragon, as Dak had taught him to do when he had only one weapon. Almost without thought, he parried the sword blows while his mind focused on coming up with a magical attack that he could use against the mage.

A woman’s cry of pain came from behind Sun Dragon, and he glanced back for an instant. Dak had the mage hunter down, down but not defeated. She rolled away from him, leaving blood on the deck. Dak lunged after her.

Focused on Sun Dragon, Yanko took advantage of the brief respite. He blasted his opponent with the same mental attack he had used on others in the last week, trying to make him believe that his fiery hand had flared out of control and that the flames would burn him. Yanko doubted the trick would fool him for long—or at all—so he scoured the sea under the ship, hoping he might find some ally to call upon once again. But every fish, jellyfish, octopus, and clam was swimming away or burrowing into the sand for safety. The lava had stopped flowing from the volcano, as if the tiny lodestone had somehow plugged up all of the outlets. Energy built up down below, distracting Yanko from his search.

“You’ve gotten stronger, boy,” Sun Dragon said, wiping away the attack like a man dashing a splash of water out of his eyes. “She’ll be upset to lose you.”

“Do you feel what’s going on underneath us?” Yanko asked, shouting to be heard over the clash of steel, because Sun Dragon was attacking him again, that silvery scimitar leaving streaks of light in the air as it slashed in and out. “We could
all
be destroyed if it keeps building up.”

“Not me.” Sun Dragon paused his attack long enough to call upon another type of magic. Though his hand still burned with a fireball poised to throw, his feet lifted a couple of inches from the deck.

“You can’t levitate all the way home.” Yanko summoned more energy and hurled another blast of wind at him. Maybe it would knock him over the rail.