Piro strained to break free. 'Isolt!'
Then she was flying through the air, thrown like baggage. She hit the ground and rolled to her feet. Turning, she found the men were all in the boat. They rowed past her, aiming for the low arch. They were leaving her behind.
Piro took a running leap and jumped, landing in the boat. It tipped alarmingly. Someone slammed their hand on her back, driving her down into the belly of the boat. She lay amidst the men's boots next to Isolt, who was pale and silent, blood seeping from her nose.
Down here Piro felt a hum of power. It set her teeth on edge with its wrongness. As they passed under the grotto's arched entrance, the power rose until her temples throbbed with each heart beat.
And just as suddenly it passed. They were out in the Ring Sea, stolen from under the mage's protection.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Fyn continued up the steps after giving Piro a few moments to reach the grotto. He'd only climbed five treads when he met Tyro coming down. Fyn was dressed to travel, and the agent was no fool. He would try to stop him. Fyn's hand reached for his sword hilt.
Tyro's gaze went to the weapon, then to Fyn's face. 'Is this how you repay the mage?'
'Let me pass,' Fyn warned, fingers closing on the hilt.
Tyro lifted his hands and Fyn felt the agent's Affinity rise. He knew himself outmatched. Still, one quick strike before the Power-worker could infiltrate his abbey-trained Affinity wardings, and it would be over. Luckily the weapons master had taught him how to draw and strike in one motion.
'I won't let you take her into danger,' Tyro said.
Fyn's fingers relaxed. 'You seem to know what's going on, but your spies don't know everything. I just told Isolt I would not take her with me. She hates me now.' He felt weary. 'Let me pass.'
Tyro lowered his hands. 'Then pass. I told Captain Nefysto to take you to Merofynia, when you were ready. Everything you've done has been according to my plan.'
Fyn frowned and his cheeks flamed as he realised his subterfuge had been for nothing. He drew breath to reply but, before he could, a terrible roar echoed up the stairwell.
'Freezing Cyena, what was that?' Tyro said.
'An attacking wyvern.' Fyn shuddered, the memory fresh in his mind.
The wyvern squealed in pain. Isolt screamed.
Fyn turned and ran down the steps with Tyro at his heels. If that wyvern had attacked Isolt, he'd kill it himself.
As Piro screamed Isolt's name, his stomach twisted in knots. Fyn leapt the last five steps, did not feel the impact as his shoulder crashed into the far wall. Rounding the bend, he came to an abrupt halt in the empty grotto.
No, not empty.
The wyvern floated face down in the pool, its blood staining the water. Fyn looked for Piro and Isolt's bodies but did not find them.
'Where are they?' Tyro said. Fyn felt the agent's Affinity build. 'My wards have been breached. I fear — '
At the sound of his voice the wyvern lifted its head and whimpered.
'Help me.' Fyn unbuckled his sword and plunged into the pool, reaching for the wyvern.
Tyro dropped into the water next to Fyn.
'I feared the wyvern had turned on Isolt,' Fyn confessed. 'But I was wrong. It was trying to protect her.'
Tyro nodded, and grunted with effort as they dragged the Affinity beast onto the broad stone lip of the grotto pool. The agent tugged his shirt off, packing it in the wyvern's wound, murmuring gently to the beast as she whimpered again.
Feeling useless, Fyn sensed waves of power roll off Tyro. The agent knelt, his head bent, lids lowered. As Fyn watched, Tyro's eyes moved rapidly under his lids and he grimaced as if in pain. When he straightened and looked at Fyn, his expression was hard.
'Palatyne's a cunning brute. He sent the Utlander to retrieve Isolt. The Utlander knew his power would trigger my wards, so he sent ordinary men in a boat with just enough power to reveal the grotto's disguised entrance.'
'You know this how?'
Tyro glanced to the Affinity beast. 'I skimmed the wyvern's memory.'
'What of Piro?'
Tyro looked down, then winced. 'She jumped into the boat to be with Isolt.' His voice caught. 'Brave, foolish girl.'
'That sounds like Piro. The little…' He could not go on, his throat felt too tight to speak. Water sloshed in his boots as he stood. 'I'll take the Wyvern's Whelp, intercept them — '
'Wait,' Tyro ordered. 'We cannot leave this beast to bleed to death. I must help her. Wyverns heal remarkably fast.'
'You heal her. I'm going.'
'This time I'm going with you, Fyn. Isolt and Piro are safe enough for now. They won't be in danger until they reach Merofynia, and then Palatyne's plans are to wed Isolt, not execute her. He still thinks Piro is Isolt's maid so, as long as she keeps her head down, she will be overlooked. We have time to prepare. This is too important for the mage to send anyone but me.'
Fyn nodded reluctantly.
Tyro gave him a wry smile. 'I need your help. I exhausted myself dipping into the wyvern's mind to learn what happened here. I need to draw on your Affinity to help her. I'm not a true healer, the best I can do is hasten the healing. Are you willing to lower your walls, or are you still blinded by your abbey training? Am I just another renegade Power-worker to you?'
Fyn grimaced. 'Having seen how Master Catillum died, I know evil is in the man, not in the power.'
'I'm sorry, Fyn.'
He shrugged this aside. Now that he was reminded of Feldspar and Joff, he sent a silent prayer to the goddess to watch over them. He hoped they'd survived the attack on Narrowneck. 'Let's get started.'
Together they sealed the wyvern's wound and made her comfortable. Then they packed, taking both the wyvern and the foenix with them to board the Wyvern's Whelp. Captain Nefysto was not keen on carrying a wyvern, even a half-grown, wounded one. But Tyro invoked the mage's name and he acquiesced with wry grace.
Piro crossed the Merofynian captain's cabin. It was beautifully appointed, with brass fittings, stained-glass windows and polished wooden cabinets, but it was still a prison.
All the while, she felt the Utland Power-worker watching her. So far she had played the maid, shielding her Affinity from him as she had done back in Rolenton, when she'd been Lord Dunstany's slave.
The roll of the ship's deck changed, telling her they were on the open sea. Piro adjusted her step, returning to the bunk with a bowl of cool water to sponge Isolt's face. Her friend had just woken, pale and nauseous.
Isolt tried to lift her head, winced, dropped back and rolled her face towards the Power-worker. 'How is my father, Utlander?'
He sighed and shook his head sadly, but Piro could sense his malicious triumph. 'The old king has lost touch with reality. He is haunted by night terrors, claims wyverns stalk him through the palace corridors. He leaves the running of the kingdom to Duke Palatyne.'
'And what is to be my fate?' Isolt asked, her voice low and determined.
'I'm taking you back to your loving betrothed,' the Utlander said. His eyes held mockery.
Isolt turned away from him. 'I look forward to seeing my father.'
'Show Duke Palatyne proper gratitude, girlie, he holds both your life and your father's in his hands,' the Utlander told her sharply, then he left them alone, locking the door after him.
Piro sat on the bunk next to Isolt, and squeezed her hand.
'Is it safe to talk?' she mouthed.
Isolt made a rude noise. 'What could we say that would interest men of action? We are mere females, prizes to be married off!' Tears filled her eyes. 'They killed my sweet wyvern!' A sob escaped her, and another.