Duty Bound (Agents of the Crown Book 3)

by Lindsay Buroker

  “That can’t be as fast as it goes,” Jev blurted. “Cutter?”

  His friend had made it into the navigation room looking as weary as Zenia if not worse.

  “We’re in reverse,” Cutter said as he grabbed one of the sleeping dwarves—Lornysh was already carrying another out over his shoulder. “I don’t think the ship goes backward fast. Can you turn it around?”

  Jev glanced at the clock as he imagined the lumbering craft ponderously turning before it could head out to sea. “I’ll have to.”

  There was no way the ship could travel the mile—miles—he wanted in time at this speed.

  “Zenia,” he said.

  “You want me to help?” She stepped forward and gripped the edge of the control panel.

  She swayed on her feet, and he reached out to steady her. Her dragon tear glowed dully on her chest.

  “I want you to get out of here. You, Lornysh, and Cutter.” Sweat slithered down Jev’s spine as he glanced at the clock again. “Hurry.”

  “You’re going to stay here?”

  There wasn’t time to explain that someone had to stay to keep the ship moving out to sea. Besides, she wouldn’t like hearing that explanation.

  “Just long enough to turn it around.” Jev nodded firmly to her and met her eyes. It was a lie, but he couldn’t bear to give her the truth. “I’ll be right behind you.”

  “Jev, I’m not leaving you here.” She frowned at him. Could she tell he was lying? “There has to be a way to keep the explosives from going off.”

  She swayed again and he gripped her more tightly, keeping her from falling. What had she done to get all the dwarves off the ship in time?

  “I’ve been trying to think of it,” Zenia added. “I’ve just been too busy.”

  “There’s no time,” Jev whispered, then raised his voice to yell, “Lornysh! Are you out there?”

  Cutter was dragging the last dwarf through the doorway as Lornysh slipped past them, running back in with his hands free. The dwarf opened his eyes and peered around.

  “Up, up,” Cutter commanded. “We’ve got to get out of here before the ship blows up.”

  The dwarf lurched to his feet. “Eh?”

  “Follow me.”

  “Jev?” Lornysh asked as the dwarves disappeared into the corridor. He glanced toward the glass windows overlooking the night sea.

  Jev was turning the ship as quickly as he could, but the lumbering craft was as ponderous as he’d feared.

  “Help Zenia out of here,” Jev said. “Please.”

  “What?” Zenia shook her head. “Not without you. I’ll wait, and we’ll all get off together if we can’t think of anything. But I’m sure…” She bit her lip.

  Jev wanted to kiss that lip. And all of her. It touched him that she didn’t want to leave him, but he couldn’t let her go down with him.

  “And you?” Lornysh asked, stepping up behind Zenia.

  “I’ll be right behind you,” Jev repeated the lie.

  Lornysh looked at the dome glowing in the center of the wheel. “Ah.”

  He gripped Jev’s shoulder before grabbing Zenia around the waist and hoisting her off her feet.

  “What are you doing?” She kicked her feet, trying vainly to wrench her way free.

  Jev almost cried out that he loved her, but Lornysh swept her out of the navigation room too quickly, he and his wiry strength unfazed by her struggles. For a moment, Zenia twisted so she could see backward and met Jev’s eyes, but she and Lornysh were gone before he could speak.

  With tears blurring his own eyes, Jev turned back to the wheel. The ship finally faced out to sea, and he pushed it to maximum. The engines thrummed with satisfying power. For a second, he thought he might yet get the ship far enough away from the harbor that he could run up and fling himself over the railing, that maybe he could swim far enough away before the explosion went off.

  But he looked at the clock and feared there wasn’t enough time.

  “Sorry, Father,” he whispered, regretting that the old man would lose his only remaining son and his chosen heir. “Sorry, Zenia,” he added, regretting that they’d never have a chance to become… more.

  20

  Zenia stopped struggling because it would be foolish to delay, but she wanted to strangle Lornysh as he swept her through the passageways, up the stairs, and out onto the ship’s upper deck. He didn’t give her an opportunity to escape. Maybe that was for the best, but pure terror gripped her heart as they left Jev farther and farther behind. Would he truly come right behind them?

  Even when they reached the now-empty deck, Lornysh didn’t put Zenia down.

  “I can run on my own,” she yelled, even though all her muscles trembled with weariness from all the dwarves she and her dragon tear had hoisted off the ship. As the vessel had pulled away from the pier, she’d had to float them farther before she could let go of her hold, and the gem had grown so hot from the effort that it left a scorch mark on her palm. It was still hot, pinned between her chest and Lornysh’s shoulder as he toted her.

  She wished she had water to squelch its heat.

  Water. Would water douse the explosives in the hold of the ship? Keep them from working the way the swamp water had gotten her bullets too wet to ignite?

  “Lornysh,” she yelled when he didn’t answer—or slow down. “Wait!”

  He did not. He sprinted for the railing where Cutter was helping that last dwarf from the navigation room over the side. Zenia didn’t realize until Lornysh picked up his speed that he meant to jump with her still clamped to his shoulder. She couldn’t keep an alarmed scream from escaping her mouth as he soared over the railing and into the night sky.

  She glimpsed the empty deck of the ship behind them—no sign of Jev—and the gas lamps of the city streets in the distance. And then she plunged into icy water, striking hard enough to hurt and to knock the remaining air from her lungs.

  Finally, Lornysh let her go, and she clawed her way to the surface.

  Shouts came from around them, Cutter and several other dwarves floating nearby.

  “Swim to land,” Lornysh ordered them all. “Get away from the ship. Now!”

  It was steaming off in the other direction, the smoke coming from its massive stacks blotting out the stars overhead.

  Zenia and the others weren’t as far from the pier as she had expected, and she grimaced, not just because waves splashed her in the face. Because the ship might not be far enough away when it exploded.

  Remembering her thought about the water, she wanted to try to rip a hole in the side of the ship, let water pour in and hopefully ruin those explosives. Maybe that would save Jev. Jev who hadn’t yet leaped over the side of the ship. Who might still be in that navigation room.

  But as she gripped the warm dragon tear and tried to concentrate, a stab of pain in her mind made her gasp. A sense of intense weariness spread over her. She didn’t know if it came from the dragon tear or her own body. She tried to fight past it, but blackness edged her vision.

  If she passed out, she could drown out here.

  A hand gripped her under the armpit. Lornysh.

  “I have an idea,” Zenia blurted as he pulled her onto her back, kicking with his legs to steer both of them toward the pier. “If we could get—”

  A thunderous boom sounded, and fiery white light erupted from the ship. Zenia threw an arm up as the intensity of a sun assaulted her eyes. The explosion. Jev.

  Lornysh pulled her harder and faster. She was so numb, she barely felt the icy water streaming past, barely heard anything over the ringing in her ears.

  When her back bumped against something, she was confused. Lornysh let go of her, but then hands gripped her from above. She was hauled up a ladder and onto the pier where people—humans and dwarves—stood all around, staring out over the water.

  The light from the explosion was dying down, but that only allowed them to see how much of the vessel was gone. What remained was already filling with water as the hull
sank deeper and deeper.

  As Zenia stared at the wreck, even more numbness crept into her. She dropped to her knees on the pier, barely noticing the hardness of the wood.

  Tears leaked from her eyes. Nobody could have survived that. Jev couldn’t have survived it.

  Why hadn’t she dragged him away? Why had she let him and his damn zyndar honor decide he should sacrifice himself?

  He’d known. He’d said he would be right behind her, but she was positive he’d known he wouldn’t make it out. That look he’d given her, that sad smile. It hadn’t been a promise that he’d see her again; it had been a goodbye.

  She hadn’t understood, and she hadn’t said it back. She hadn’t said any of what she should have said. That she cared about him, that she loved the way he bumped shoulders with her and always tried to make her laugh. That he hadn’t cared what a frigid inquisitor she’d been when they met. That he hadn’t cared that she was a commoner. That he hadn’t cared that she’d walked him into an interrogation session where he’d been tortured by her colleagues. He hadn’t cared about any of that. He’d still wanted to get to know her, to have a relationship with her.

  But what had she done? She’d pushed him away. She’d wanted to be with him, but because he couldn’t marry her, she’d refused to have anything to do with him. Why? Because of some vow she’d made more than a decade ago? Because of a small chance that she might get pregnant? It wasn’t as if he would have turned his back on a child. He would have taken care of her, of the baby. She knew he would.

  What had she truly been afraid of? That he would marry someone else someday and watching them together would devastate her? Even if that was true, was it a reason never to love him at all?

  She sucked in a deep breath, and her whole body shook. Her lip quivered. There were people all over the docks, staring at the carnage and making hushed comments, but she didn’t care. She dropped her head into her hands and cried.

  “Someone’s out there,” a man blurted. “Look!”

  “He’s injured.”

  A splash sounded as Zenia lifted her head, her heart pounding.

  “Jev?” she whispered.

  A strong swimmer stroked in the direction of the ship, silver hair streaming out behind him. She gulped. Was that Lornysh again? He risked a lot if he was seen here now that everyone was awake. The ship might have been full of dwarves who had no grudge against elves, but half of Korvann seemed to have rushed down to the docks due to all the commotion.

  But if he was swimming out to save Jev, she would protect Lornysh from anyone who tried to get to him.

  Zenia rose to her feet on legs still weak from the night’s efforts. She lifted a hand to block out the light of the flames burning on the wreck. There was someone in the water. Someone with dark hair. Someone barely moving. Tears sprang back to her eyes.

  “Get a healer!” she yelled to anyone who would listen. “That’s Jev—Zyndar Dharrow!” She hoped. “He saved us all!”

  Lornysh reached Jev—she refused to believe it was anybody else—hooked an arm around his chest and paddled backward toward the docks. Zenia was tempted to jump in and swim out to help, but Lornysh was strong and making good time. With her hands trembling and her heart in her throat, she didn’t know how much help she would be.

  “Wait,” she blurted to herself and wrapped her hand around the dragon tear. A flash of pain came from her palm where the gem’s heat had burned her before, but she tightened her grip anyway. “Lift him,” she whispered to it. “Bring him here, please.”

  She concentrated on channeling the thought into the dragon tear for a more focused command, but it understood. A sense of weariness came from it, but it vibrated against her hand, and Jev and Lornysh floated out of the water.

  Lornysh lifted his head, looking back in surprise. Jev barely reacted, his limbs hanging limply in the air.

  As Zenia stepped back to make room for them on the end of the pier, she looked to make sure someone had obeyed her order to get a healer. It wasn’t as if she was zyndar or anyone as far as these people knew.

  Thankfully, she recognized people in white robes making their way through the crowd. Air Order mages. Healers, she hoped. Jev had been born under the White Dragon’s stars. They should be happy to heal him.

  Jev and Lornysh floated closer, and Zenia released the dragon tear. Now, she could see their faces and could tell for certain that it was Jev. His eyes were closed and blood dripped from gashes all over his body. His clothing was so torn, his shoulder and torso were almost bare. Bare and bruised with more severe cuts visible.

  “Jev,” Zenia whispered, reaching out a hand, distressed by his pain. Was he conscious? Maybe it would be better for him if he wasn’t.

  The vibrations of her dragon tear faded as Jev settled onto his back on the dock. Lornysh landed on his feet next to him. He took one look at her, then stepped back, pulling his wet hood over his head.

  Zenia hoped people were too transfixed on Jev to have seen his ears, but it was only a passing thought. She knelt beside Jev, her focus on him.

  She laid one hand on his wet chest and cupped the back of his head with the other, careful to avoid the gouges leaking blood. She could barely see through the tears smearing her vision but saw his eyes were closed.

  “Jev,” she whispered, bending down, resting her face beside his, wishing she could fling her arms around him in a hug. “Healers are coming. You’ll be fine. They’ll take care of you.”

  Something stirred against her cheek. One of his lashes. She turned and found his eyes open. Pain created lines at the corners of them, and he appeared dazed, but he seemed to recognize her.

  “You can rest,” she said. “The healers are almost here.”

  “Damn,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “No… private moment… for a kiss?”

  “That’s what’s on your mind now?” She almost pointed out that he might be dying, but that wouldn’t be a reassuring thing to say. Besides, she had faith the Air Order healers could help him. He’d made it off the ship. He had to make it the rest of the way.

  “Was wishing… I’d given you… one,” he murmured, eyelids drooping. “Before you left… but guess… I’m not supposed… to do that.”

  It wasn’t an accusation, just a sad forlorn statement, but it sank into her heart like a knife.

  “You can,” she heard herself whispering. “I love you, Jev.”

  His eyelids lifted again, and he turned his face toward her. She half expected a joke. Or for him to pass out before he could respond. But he focused on her and said, “I love you too.”

  “Good.” She shifted her hand from his head to his cheek, touching it gently. She wished she could kiss him now but heard voices right behind her.

  “Ma’am?” a woman said. “We’re healers. Let us in.”

  Zenia patted Jev’s chest and reluctantly rose to her feet. His eyes remained locked onto her, and she smiled at him until the two healers crouched down, blocking their view of each other.

  Lornysh, she noted, had disappeared. A wise decision, she was sure. Cutter had moved away from the docks with Master Grindmor to avoid the crowd. Zenia didn’t see Rhi, but she didn’t see the king’s entourage, either, so hopefully, she had found him and warned him to stay away from the waterfront.

  The white-robed healers rose to their feet as another mage stepped out of the crowd, her hand around a dragon tear. She focused on Jev, and he was lifted into the air once more.

  “What’s going on?” Zenia asked the closest healer.

  “His injuries are extensive. We will take him to the Temple of the White Dragon in the Air quarter. A carriage is arriving shortly.” The healer nodded as Jev floated past.

  “I’m going with you.”

  “There won’t be room in the carriage, but you may meet us there if you wish.”

  Zenia gripped her own dragon tear. She couldn’t imagine a healer would have a reason to lie about this or had some nefarious plan to take advantage of Jev’s injurie
s, but she wanted to make sure. The dragon tear understood and showed her the healer’s thoughts.

  The man’s eyebrows twitched—did he sense her gem’s touch? She didn’t care. Let him know she was inspecting his mind.

  Fortunately, she sensed only a genuine interest in caring for Jev from the man and knowledge that it would be easier to do so in the quiet of his temple. He believed Jev had saved the city and should be treated with the utmost respect and care.

  Zenia stepped back and let the healer go. She wouldn’t delay him, though she would follow along. Perhaps Lornysh and Cutter would wish to come too. There was that stream by the Air Order Temple and all those trees. Perfect for an elf to hide among.

  She would wait inside, by his bed if they would let her. Then, when he was well, they could discuss how foolish she had been, how it had taken him almost dying for her to realize she wanted to figure out a way to be with him. In whatever way it could be possible. She resolved that it would be possible.

  Epilogue

  Jev woke in a bed with a sheet pulled up to his chin, a whitewashed stone ceiling arching overhead. Sunlight slanted in through a single window. Morning sun? Afternoon? He had no idea which way his window faced or how long he’d been out. He hoped he hadn’t lost more than a day.

  He’d drifted into consciousness a few times while the healers had been working on him and knew he was in the Air Order Temple, but most of the experience was a hazy blur in his mind. For the first time, nobody in a white robe hovered over him, and his body no longer tingled with healing magic. It still ached in places but not the way it had when he first hit the water. The explosion had gone off while he’d been racing across the upper deck toward the railing, and it had felt like a rock golem slamming into his back.

  He’d hurt so much, he’d been certain he would drown, that he would never make it to the docks. He needed to thank Lornysh for pulling him to safety. And Zenia. He remembered his numb surprise as a magical power lifted them both out of the water and deposited him at her feet. She’d knelt and hugged him and whispered she loved him. And he’d whispered it back, so thankful the founders had given him a chance to do so. Back on that ship, he’d experienced an amazing number of regrets considering how little time he’d had for thinking.