Snake Heart (26 page)

“Not specifically.”

“Vaguely?”

“A message in the front warned that anyone who found his records and attempted to pilfer his belongings would meet a painful and horrible death.”

“Pey Lu’s pirates haven’t sent boats to the beach yet,” Yanko said. He could see the sea all around the island from the top of the butte. “Do you think they want us to find the lodestone and then steal it?” Yanko offered Arayevo a hand up, which she ignored, in favor of rolling herself over the edge on her own.

“It’s crossed my mind,” Dak said. “They also know we don’t have a way off the island, so they don’t have a reason to hurry. They’re likely doing some repositioning of personnel and trying to recover supplies and equipment from their wrecked ship too.”

“I understand that completely,” Lakeo said, heaving herself over the side to join them. “Much of the treasure I recovered from the last island went down with the underwater boat.”

“Much but not all,” Dak said. “You clank when you climb.”

“I recovered a few coins.”

“Enough to weigh down our boat, so that taking on Yanko almost sank us.”

“Yes, it’s clear Yanko was better fed than we expected during his time imprisoned on his mother’s boat. Did you feast at the captain’s table, Yanko?”

“Not exactly,” he murmured. He stretched his senses into the forest of dangling skulls, searching for the telltale energy of a Made item.

To his surprise, he sensed something ahead of them, beyond the trees and possibly in the ground. It was hard to tell.

“I feel something,” he said, meeting Dak’s eyes.

“The artifact?”

“I can’t tell. Something Made.”

“Lead the way.” Dak pulled out a machete. “I’ll follow.”

“It feels close, but we need to watch our step and stay alert for traps.”

Though Yanko was tired after the morning’s events and after being up most of the night, excitement burned away much of that weariness. Even if he had no idea how they would get off the island, knowing they might be nearing the culmination of his quest made him believe that anything could be possible. Maybe they could steal one of Pey Lu’s ships and slip away, or maybe he could negotiate with his mother somehow.

His senses led him along the edge of the butte rather than into the forest, and he eyed the steep cliff that fell away to the side, hoping they wouldn’t end up climbing back down it to some cave or lava tube. The earth under their feet was mostly rock, what soil had been made over the eons scraped free by the wind. The stunted trees seemed to grow straight out of the rock, gaining their meager nutrition from that.

Yanko watched each step he took, expecting a trap at any moment. Dak walked behind his shoulder, his weapon at the ready, and Arayevo and Lakeo followed after him.

“It’s under us somewhere,” Yanko said, slowing as they approached a cairn of rocks. It rose above his head, and he tried to see a skull shape in its jumbled assembly. It would take an imagination. He did find it distinctive that the cairn appeared to be built using pieces of granite when the rest of the rocks on the island were dark and volcanic. The clacking of the real skulls rattled his nerves as the wind picked up again. He wished to run through the forest, cutting them down and arranging for a re-burial.

“Maybe Dak can figure out if there’s a trapdoor or secret switch,” Arayevo said. “He’s good at pushing buttons and levers.”

Dak’s eyebrows rose.

Arayevo placed a hand on Yanko’s forearm. “While he’s doing that, I need to talk to you about things.”

“Things?” Yanko had dreamed of talking about things with her for most of his life, but this seemed an odd time for it. Besides, he highly doubted she was thinking of the same types of things he always was.

Dak’s single eye closed to a slit as he continued to regard Arayevo.

“It took Minark leaving me behind and almost losing you to realize how important some things were,” Arayevo said firmly and nodded toward some scrubby bushes farther along the butte. “Can I steal you for a moment?”

Lakeo propped her fists on her hips, a surprisingly fierce scowl on her face.

“I’ll see what I can find,” Dak said, turning to consider the cairn. “Don’t go far.”

Arayevo pulled Yanko toward the bushes. She didn’t have to pull hard. Even if he had been mulling over the lodestone, his feet would still follow her wherever she wanted to lead. Her words echoed in his mind. Was it possible that she had come to realize that she cared about him? As more than a friend?

“What is it?” Yanko asked quietly when she stopped. He kept his voice casual, not wanting to sound too hopeful, not wanting to let her know that his arm tingled when she touched it like that.

“Badger goddess’s furry hide, he sticks close, doesn’t he?” Arayevo glanced back at Dak.

“Bodyguards are supposed to.”

“Come on, Yanko. You know he’s your spy, not your bodyguard.”

Yanko spread his hands. “He’s been effective at the latter while doing the former.”

“Well, he’s definitely not on our side.” Arayevo grimaced.

“He didn’t... do anything to you, did he?” Yanko had a hard time imagining Dak acting dishonorably, but her grimace made him wonder what had gone on during those three days she and Lakeo had been alone with him.

“What? No, nothing like that. To Lakeo’s lament maybe. But listen, in case you’re wondering why he’s not too worried about the underwater boat being destroyed, it’s because he’s got company coming.”

“What kind of company?” Yanko shifted so his back was toward Dak, even though the Turgonian seemed to be busy examining the rocks. “And when did he get a chance to invite it to come?”

“The underwater boat had a communications orb tucked away in a little cubby in the engine room. You didn’t sense it?”

“I sensed that the engine itself was powered by something magical, but I didn’t get much of a chance to explore the ship.”

Arayevo acknowledged that with a flick of her fingers. “I didn’t know it was there, either, until I heard him talking to someone in the middle of the night when he thought Lakeo and I were sleeping. My Turgonian isn’t great, but I’ve picked up a few words—we visited one of their ports while I was with Minark, and we had Turgonians in our crew.”

Yanko nodded for her to go on, though dread had settled in his stomach, and he worried he didn’t want to hear what else she had to say.

“I’m not sure who he was talking to, but he asked to have a message delivered to an Admiral Markcrest. He held up the journal, the page with the map on it. Yanko, a Turgonian fleet could be on its way here right now.” Arayevo looked toward the sea.

From this side of the butte, the pirate vessels were not in view, and Yanko realized he ought to have left one of his teammates by the cliff to monitor them. Of course, Pey Lu’s ships might not matter if Dak’s people truly showed up with a fleet. As powerful as his mother was, Yanko doubted she would take on the Turgonian military, especially not after losing her ship to a single underwater boat. He remembered what she had told him, that the pilot was quite experienced with the craft and naval warfare. At this point, Yanko hadn’t found much that Dak
wasn’t
experienced with.

“Just because he requested a fleet doesn’t mean he’ll get it,” Yanko said slowly, though he wasn’t that convinced. Whatever Dak was exactly, he clearly had connections to high-ranking Turgonians. Markcrest. Yanko had never heard the surname, but he knew “-crest” was the designation for their warrior-caste families and that those families had controlled their government and the military until the empire had shaken up their internal structure in favor of a republic. He wagered the powerful warrior-caste families were still powerful, similar to honored clans in his world. “Are you sure he actually
asked
for a fleet?”

Just how good was Arayevo’s Turgonian?

“No, it might have been a ship, but if this artifact is as important as you’ve been saying, wouldn’t the Turgonians want it?”

“It depends on whether they believe it can deliver what Prince Zirabo believes it can deliver. A lot of Turgonians don’t even think magic exists.”

Not that Dak had ever blinked in surprise at its use.

“He’s looking over here.” Arayevo smiled and laid an arm around Yanko’s shoulders.

He held still, though he longed to wrap an arm around her in return, to feel the curve of her waist against his side. Perhaps other curves, as well. Heat flushed his face, and he forced himself to concentrate on the conversation.

“You think he’ll do something if he finds out what you’re telling me?” Yanko asked quietly.

“I don’t know, but he wasn’t happy with Lakeo and me when we insisted on rescuing you. He said we’d get ourselves killed, and it would be better to find the artifact first and then deal with the pirates when we could get more help. Yanko, he must think his people are coming
soon
.”

“Well, I thank you for arguing for coming to get me.” He wanted to thank her for leaning her hip against his so enticingly, too, but that seemed less appropriate. “How did you change his mind? I assume you weren’t able to force him to do anything.”

“That was Lakeo actually. After we’d nagged—it’s all right to call it nagging, because that’s what it was—to no effect, she pointed out that he’d probably get a bunch of awards in Turgonia if he was the one to take down Captain Snake Heart.”

“Ah.” Yanko couldn’t manage more of a response. He had only been on Pey Lu’s ship for three days, but they had been a strange three days, with her giving him the gift of her robe and teaching and advising him. She’d made it clear that they were at odds, competing on the same mission, but somewhere during those days, he’d also stopped thinking of her as his enemy.

“I think he likes you, too, because I did catch him sketching out tactics in a notepad, like he’d been thinking about attacking or launching some kind of rescue, even before we brought it up. But I wouldn’t count on that keeping you alive if his people show up and give him an order. Like an order to chop off your head.”

“No, I wouldn’t presume that he would put me above his people.” Yanko wished he
could
presume that, that he could count on Dak not to betray him, to be someone he could trust, because... he wasn’t even sure. It was just nice being able to depend on him, the way he had started to depend on Uncle Mishnal.

“We better return, or he’ll get suspicious,” Arayevo said. “He seems to think I’m particularly shifty.”

“Well, you are.” Yanko managed a smile for her.

She ruffled his hair and lowered her arm. Yanko winced because that was surely a gesture one gave to one’s little brother, not the love of one’s life.

“Arayevo?” he asked, stopping her before she turned away.

She glanced toward the others. Lakeo was pointing at a bush growing from the base of the cairn and gesturing.

“Yes?” Arayevo asked.

“I wanted to tell you, in case something happens and we’re separated again... or even in case it doesn’t—”

Yanko took a deep breath, unable to believe how nervous he felt. He had a feeling that he wouldn’t like her response, but he couldn’t seem to let go of the hope that he would be wrong. That all he had to do was express his true feelings and she would be overwhelmed with emotion and realize she felt the same way. Or that she could grow to feel the same way in time. One way or another, he had to know. He couldn’t go on fantasizing about her and driving himself crazy when she looked at other men without ever having told her...

“I love you,” Yanko said, the words tumbling out so quickly that he didn’t know if she would understand them. “I love you,” he said again, more slowly. Carefully.

He expected surprise, stunned silence. Gaping. Staring. Disbelief.

Instead, Arayevo smiled sadly and said, “I know you do, Yanko.”

“Oh.” He groped for the next thing to say, but all useful words and thoughts had fled his brain. “Have you always known?”

She tilted her head. “Have you always felt that way?”

“Almost always. Ten years at least.”

“Since you were
eight
?”

“Yes. That’s not odd, is it?”

“No odder than the rest of you.” She smiled and squeezed his shoulder before lowering her arm. Their hips no longer touched.

Yanko sighed sadly. “Good to know.”

“I’m sorry, Yanko. I’ve tried not to be... encouraging, but sometimes I forget. I have come to think of you as a friend, not just the little pest who was always wandering off into the forest and disappearing for hours when I was in charge of you—do you know how many times your father came home and asked where you were and I couldn’t produce you?”

“Uhm. Three?”

“More like thirty-three. I was shocked he kept inviting me back for babysitting duty. I think it was only because you kept requesting me.”

Yanko scuffed the ground with his foot. He didn’t want to share memories of him as a child with Arayevo. He wanted to make new memories with her, and for her to see him as a man, though he supposed he knew that wasn’t going to happen.

“My point is that I care about you,” Arayevo said, “and you are a really good friend. I just can’t imagine... I don’t see you romantically. To me, you’re still the little boy who ran around calling me ‘Yevo and pulling my hair when I picked you up.”

He lifted his chin. He was
not
that little boy anymore.

“I’m sorry. I know that’s not fair, but we don’t get to choose who we fall in love with. And who we don’t.”

“No, I suppose not.”

“That doesn’t mean I won’t always care about you. And I’ll always be there if you need to be rescued from pirates.”

“Thank you.” Yanko thought about pointing out that he hadn’t needed rescuing, that his mother had been trying to recruit him for her fleet. But what was the point? That wouldn’t change how she saw him. “I’m going to try to avoid needing to be rescued in the future.”

“Good. That sounds healthy.” She patted him on the back and headed to the cairn.

Yanko took a couple of moments—and a couple of deep breaths—to collect himself. He hadn’t broken into tears. Maybe that was something. Or maybe he’d known in his heart for a long time that this would never be. Why did hearts sometimes know things before brains could accept them?