Kyre snorted. “Of course not. I walk with you, I protect you, I die for you.” He flexed his wings. “I am ready.”
“Walk with me and protect me, but don’t die, Kyre.” He laid his hand on the Vai’Ensai’s arm for a moment, and then shouldered his bag. “Come on. Isle Uago awaits. Have you been to Uago, Kyre?”
“No. What makes it dangerous?”
Connor’s grin widened. “Pirates.”
Celestine wasn’t surprised when Sera woke her with the news that Connor Crane and his dragonman had left sometime in the night, evading the Temple guards, and sneaking out without anyone so much as seeing a shadow. The High Reverent closed her eyes briefly, thinking of Archer.
He’s already lost so much…
She thanked Sera and rose to dress, mentally preparing for her friend’s anger at her for not posting guards at Connor’s door. She had been sure that Connor would leave, but never thought it would be so soon.
“Shall I send a bird to Admiral Crane?” Sera asked when Celestine emerged from her chambers.
The High Reverent belted her sapphire-encrusted sword to her waist as they walked. “No. Get me the sloop. I’ll tell him myself.”
Sailors were called to her small sailboat and Paladin Lanik Thrakill waited for her at the docks to take her over as guard and escort. Before the war, a retinue of Paladins would accompany the High Reverent anywhere. Now there was only one, though that it was Lanik made her smile. He was a devout Paladin, and, if she were being honest, a handsome one at that. His eyes were much warmer than their icy blue color hinted.
The journey across the channel was short but it seemed as if the narrow strip of greenish water—sluggish with the waste and refuse of Lillomet City—floating in its depths, had grown even more narrow that morning. The voyage was unsettlingly short. The Citadel loomed ahead, squat and square and reminding her of Stoneyard Prison on Isle Parish. Despite the last remnants of summer heat lingering in the air, Celestine shivered.
“Are you well, Your Reverence?” Lanik asked, his face drawn with worry.
“I’m fine,” she said, reprimanding herself. It didn’t befit a High Reverent to wear her anxiety so close to the surface. Even so, Lanik’s troubled expression prompted her to add, “My task is not pleasant. Connor Crane left the island last night with his Vai’Ensai.”
“I had heard,” Lanik said, and frowned. “And while the Admiral must be understandably upset, he cannot blame you for the actions of a rash young man.”
Lanik’s words and the fierce emotion behind them made her smile, but the tight coil of nerves in her stomach remained. He doesn’t know Archer like I do.
As predicted, Archer’s face hardened at the news and his dark eyes bored into Celestine’s as she spoke.
“When?”
“Last night.”
“What hour?” Archer was leaning over his desk, palms splayed out, regarding her with a flinty expression she thought he must reserve for sailors who’ve disobeyed orders or who were guilty of misconduct.
“We don’t know,” Celestine faltered. You’re the High Reverent, not a child facing an angry parent. She stood up straight and met his eye. “Early. He was absent at morning meditations which happen at dawn. I came personally to tell you—”
“Deke!” He shouted to the door without taking his eyes from hers. The door opened and the red-haired young man posted outside entered.
“Sir?”
“Assemble my officers, smartly now.”
The man saluted and slipped out again. There was a silence and Celestine felt her face grow hot.
“You may stop staring at me like that,” she snapped. “I’m no deckhand or bosun to be reprimanded.”
“Correct,” Archer said slowly. “A bosun is in charge of keeping track of the men and making sure they’re all accounted for. Clearly, you are no bosun.”
Celestine sighed. “Archer, I know you’re upset but—”
“You’re damned right I’m upset!” he thundered. “I told you we needed to watch him after you told me that he was going to try to leave!”
“The Moon Temple is not a prison!” Celestine shot back. “He is a man grown. And he didn’t rob our coffers for the coin for passage. If you were concerned about him leaving, you shouldn’t have provided him the means to do so!”
“How was I to know he’d leave so soon?”
Celestine raised a brow.
Archer slumped into his chair and rubbed his eyes. “Carping at each other and laying blame isn’t going to bring him back. Where are my bloody officers?”
“I’m sorry, Archer,” Celestine said. “I truly am. I should have been more attentive. But even if I had caught him as he snuck out the door, I couldn’t have stopped him.”
“No, but you’d have told me and I could have stopped him.” He sighed. “He’s too young, Cel. Even with that big lizard following him around, it’s too dangerous for him to be traipsing around the Western Watch.”
Celestine happened to know for a fact that Archer Crane had been “traipsing around” all of Lunos at a much earlier age than seventeen, but held her tongue on the matter. A rapping at the door came and then Archer’s officers, three men in stiff red and blue Alliance wool, entered. The High Reverent was given a deferential bow by each and then pushed out of the circle around the desk, so that they might pore over the charts.
“We’ll send ships to Isle Devala,” Archer said after briefing the men on the situation, leaving out the particulars of Connor’s magic. “We can chase him down. Whatever cog or vessel he’s bought passage on won’t be half as fast as our corsairs. We’ll catch him, likely…here.” Archer tapped the chart with his finger.
“Beggin’ your pardon, Admiral, but we how many ships do you aim to send after him?” Archer’s withering stare made the man—a captain judging by the size of the gold sun emblem on his lapel—clear his throat. “I meant, sir, if the dragonman abducted him, we’ll want a specialized team to pursue. But if young Connor is acting of his own accord…”
The captain was subtle, but the implication was clear: Was this a serious mission using valuable armada resources appropriately, or an overprotective parent taking advantage of those resources?
“One ship,” Archer said slowly, and Celestine knew he’d heard the unspoken query too. “We can spare one fast ship to track down my son who has departed Isle Lillomet without leave of the High Reverent to whom he has pledged his service,” he said, with a nod at Celestine.
The captain breathed easy, as did Celestine; none present wished to see the Admiral lose face.
“Of course, sir,” the captain said. “I’d be happy to command the vessel to Isle Devala myself.”
Archer assented and other officers chimed in with advice on the course to take, currents this time of year and the like, but Celestine hardly heard them. Something wasn’t right. Something niggled in the back of her mind.