“I agree,” Shy said. “I don’t think Jace should take it either.”
Tayel ground her teeth against the immediate impulse to oppose her.
“That makes sense,” Jace said. “Someone who’s actively fighting will need it.”
“Indeed,” Locke said. “Someone who’s fighting, and perhaps a familiar, known opponent. Which one of you ladies taunted the entire castle of guards?”
“Team effort,” Shy teased.
Tayel shifted her seating, drawing up into herself. She remembered the councilwoman’s threat in the woods — that Ruxbane wanted her alive. It had been a game, a farce, a way to toy with her — Tayel knew — but that didn’t explain the kitchen door exploding inward, and the grin on Ruxbane’s face when he saw her.
“I’m going to go ahead and say it, since no one else is,” Fehn said. “Shy should take the shield. She’s our best fighter, and she’s going to be doing the brunt of the work.”
“Means she’ll probably attract the most attention, too,” Jace said.
The leader of the Rokkir couldn’t possibly want Tayel — for anything. She wasn’t a threat, especially not in comparison to Shy, but an unwelcome feeling wedged into her gut at the thought: doubt. A small lingering unease whispering that she was right, that the Rokkir were after her, that maybe she shouldn’t go into their stronghold at all.
“Tayel?” Shy nudged her.
Tayel snapped to attention. “Sorry. I… I’m with everyone else. You should take it.”
Shy averted her eyes.
“Perfect.” Locke hobbled over to her. “Now remember: the charge will only last thirty seconds. The timer displays here, on the inside of the wrist. Once it’s activated — flip this switch here, then thumb for heat here; you’ll get some haptic feedback before the shield activates — the bracelet will lock for the duration of the charge.”
Shy leaned back from the device. “It locks?”
“Don’t worry. It’s a necessary precaution. Shield emitters are always vulnerable to damage. In this case, the damage is expelled force, so the locking mechanism will ensure it won’t be vulnerable to being knocked off.”
“Any other features I should know about?”
The curtain of furs over the doorway rustled, and a Varg stuck her head through. “The war pack is ready to depart.”
Which meant it was time for all them to go, too. Anxiety made Tayel’s face flush.
“We’ll be there shortly,” Locke said. He waited until the woman departed before turning back to Shy. “Get your things, and let’s get you moving.”
Tayel’s body moved of its own accord, but her mind stayed stun locked. When she’d gone to Castle Aishan, she had no idea what to expect. Now she was willingly volunteering to enter the Rokkir’s domain. If the castle could contain the horrors that it did while still presenting a safe front, she couldn’t imagine what waited inside the Rokkir’s full display of aggression.
She stifled the thought, and grabbed her mag baton, a mask, one of Locke’s spare shield bracers. It was everything she was supposed to have, but she felt naked, vulnerable, especially looking at the people she needed to fight for.
She stayed quiet walking down the halls toward the garage, and so did everyone else. Maybe they were all just as scared as she was. Maybe she wasn’t the only one sick to her stomach, afraid everything was going to go wrong, but it was impossible to think of Shy being afraid, or Fehn. Even Jace seemed to be braver and surer than her.
Shy looked back over her shoulder, but Tayel didn’t bother smiling false assurances.
They arrived at the final turn in the labyrinth of corridors, travelling against an ice cold draft that made Tayel shiver even in snow gear. The path led them into a high-ceilinged armory, where crates of shields and strange potions were stacked high next to shelves brimming with old-world weaponry. Hundreds of Varg conversed in hurried tones among stone benches as they donned armor, gathered supplies, and sharpened their weapons.
Tayel followed after everyone, winding through the rushing Varg, dodging whirling carts of supplies and men carrying swords. She passed under another archway and paused on the other side’s landing. Dozens of armored snow rovers lined the spacious garage floor below, parked one after the other in a pre-ordained phalanx. They sputtered in sync with their revving engines, the explosive roars mixing with the fervor of chatter as Varg started to board.
Tayel shrunk in the rushing panic. All of this because of the Rokkir. Only a few weeks, and they’d reduced the Varg to one desperate outpost ready to give up everything to stop the fight.
“Tayel?” Shy nudged her arm.
The others trotted down the stairs from the armory to the garage floor. A Varg waved at the bottom to greet them.
“Sorry, coming.” Tayel stepped forward, but Shy stopped her with a firm hand against her shoulder.
“Are you going to be okay?”
“Yeah, Shy. I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine.”
“No, I’m… It’s just—”
“Shy!” Locke waved from the bottom of the stairs. “You all need to board. The Varg are preparing to leave!”
“Give us a second!” Shy yelled. She turned back.
Tayel shrugged in exasperation. “I’m worried for everyone.”
“We all know the risks.”
That dread inched its way back into Tayel’s stomach. They didn’t know every risk. They didn’t know about Ruxbane, that he might be looking for her. But if she said anything — even expressed doubt — she might be forced to stay. Forced to stay because she’d gotten cold feet from too many bad dreams. She grit her teeth.
She’d done everything to get here, to be this close to bringing Jace home. She wasn’t going to let fear and doubt stop her from helping.
“I’m okay,” she said. “Just — like I said — worried.”
Shy looked past Tayel into the armory, and clicked her tongue. “You know, I’m a much more experienced combatant than you. In every way.”
Tayel drew back. “Nice, Shy.”
“I’m saying, that if you wanted the prototype shield, I’d understand. I might not be as vulnerable to ending up in situations where it would be useful.”
Tayel mulled over Shy’s words until she felt the tug of a smile. “So you’re offering the opportunity to, what, ask for it?”
Shy crossed her arms.
“You keep it,” Tayel said. “I wasn’t lying before; I do think everyone else was right. If we find a Rokkir, they’ll go for the most skilled target in a fight.”
“Shy!” Locke called again.
Shy swore under her breath. “Coming, Locke!” To Tayel, she said, “Sorry, but, we should go.”
“Yeah,” Tayel said. “After you.”
She followed Shy down the stairs, hugging her arms against the draft. The bustling garage had deflated in activity during their conversation, now with only a few Varg running around, closing hoods or swinging themselves into open seats. Two others stood on either side of the massive metal garage doors, each positioned at a switch.
“Finally,” Locke said when Tayel and Shy arrived. “This is your rover. You’ll be riding with Balcruf. Stick with him, and he’ll lead you to the ambush location within Cryzoar.”
“How long’s the drive?” Fehn asked.
“Long enough the Rokkir will send forces to divert you.”
Jace shrunk against the hull, looking smaller than the bag strapped to his side.
“Are you all ready?” Locke asked.
“As we’re going to be,” Shy said.
Tayel didn’t feel so sure, but it hardly mattered. She’d made her choice.
“Watch each other’s backs,” Locke told them. “The Varg aren’t likely to back you up. You aren’t part of their pack. Once you strip what data you can from the mothership, leave.” He clapped his hands on Shy’s shoulders. “I love you. Don’t die.”