transfer. I see no advantage to having her strong and clearheaded now.”
Derian could see his point.
“What next?” he said.
“You surrender and the transfer takes place as planned,” Harjeedian replied, “or you kill us and deal with this ship sinking and the oncoming vessel. That is all.”
Derian looked at Firekeeper.
“Your call,” he said.
Firekeeper looked at Harjeedian.
“First to hurt us dies. I have enough hostages.”
Harjeedian met her gaze.
“I can see how you might. Very well. I understand. Men, I warn you, no getting back a bit of your own. I won’t answer for the consequences.”
Derian shivered, trying to believe it was caused by the sudden wind that had whipped up, but knowing that the real source was the chilly glint in Firekeeper’s dark eyes.
EVEN FIREKEEPER COULD TELL that considerable preparation had been done with the specific intent of moving Blind Seer from the riverboat to the larger ocean vessel. There was a cage, big enough to hold the wolf, small enough to keep him from sliding around and possibly doing himself injury. It was strongly built, but light enough that it could be hauled up through a complicated web of ropes.
What she hadn’t expected was that the same cage would be used to move her. Harjeedian and Derian had been taken aboard via a strange chair-like contraption, but when it came time for her to go aboard it was the cage, not the chair, that was lowered.
“Get inside,” Rarby ordered. Obviously, the ease with which he and Shelby had been overcome still stung, but equally obviously, he had been told not to lay a hand on her unless she refused to cooperate.
“Why this?” Firekeeper asked, gesturing toward the cage with a toss of her head. “Why not chair?”
Rarby shook his head.
“Don’t know. Don’t care. What I do know is that’s what they’ve sent. Now, are you going to get in it, or am I going to have to beat the crap out of you first?”
He looked as if he’d welcome the opportunity, and it pleased Firekeeper to deny him. She crept into the cage, musing over what they had won in their effort to escape. There had been three victories as she saw them.
The first was confirmation that all three of them were wanted, alive and in at least fair condition. She had suspected this, but hadn’t known for certain. However, the fact that Harjeedian had not harmed Derian to punish Firekeeper made her fairly sure that Derian had not been kidnapped merely as a hostage against her good behavior.
The second victory was that she thought she had convinced Harjeedian that merely threatening either Blind Seer or Derian would not be enough to keep her in line. Deep inside, she wasn’t sure if this was true, but she thought that Harjeedian would be more careful. Whether this care would take the form of courtesy or more intensive imprisonment she couldn’t be certain. However, she felt she had regained some status, and wolf-like, she felt this was important.
The third victory was both the smallest and the largest. Only one of the two knives she had acquired in the scuffle had been taken from her. Shelby had demanded the return of his knife, but the blade Blind Seer had given her had not been noticed. At first opportunity, Firekeeper had slipped it inside the loose folds of the shirt she now wore. When Harjeedian had insisted she don trousers and a heavier shirt over the first as protection against the sharp spring winds, she had readily agreed.
Now the knife nestled between the baggy folds of the outer and inner shirts, hopefully undetectable. Firekeeper thought that Derian might also be armed. He had returned Rarby’s knife, but the butter knife, jagged-edged from working the chain, and the solid link of chain he had hidden in his fist had not been taken from him.
Of course, these victories would be lost if they were stripped and searched, but for now Firekeeper felt more secure. Her fangs were not drawn, only hidden.
Privately, she mourned the
Derian could see his point.
“What next?” he said.
“You surrender and the transfer takes place as planned,” Harjeedian replied, “or you kill us and deal with this ship sinking and the oncoming vessel. That is all.”
Derian looked at Firekeeper.
“Your call,” he said.
Firekeeper looked at Harjeedian.
“First to hurt us dies. I have enough hostages.”
Harjeedian met her gaze.
“I can see how you might. Very well. I understand. Men, I warn you, no getting back a bit of your own. I won’t answer for the consequences.”
Derian shivered, trying to believe it was caused by the sudden wind that had whipped up, but knowing that the real source was the chilly glint in Firekeeper’s dark eyes.
EVEN FIREKEEPER COULD TELL that considerable preparation had been done with the specific intent of moving Blind Seer from the riverboat to the larger ocean vessel. There was a cage, big enough to hold the wolf, small enough to keep him from sliding around and possibly doing himself injury. It was strongly built, but light enough that it could be hauled up through a complicated web of ropes.
What she hadn’t expected was that the same cage would be used to move her. Harjeedian and Derian had been taken aboard via a strange chair-like contraption, but when it came time for her to go aboard it was the cage, not the chair, that was lowered.
“Get inside,” Rarby ordered. Obviously, the ease with which he and Shelby had been overcome still stung, but equally obviously, he had been told not to lay a hand on her unless she refused to cooperate.
“Why this?” Firekeeper asked, gesturing toward the cage with a toss of her head. “Why not chair?”
Rarby shook his head.
“Don’t know. Don’t care. What I do know is that’s what they’ve sent. Now, are you going to get in it, or am I going to have to beat the crap out of you first?”
He looked as if he’d welcome the opportunity, and it pleased Firekeeper to deny him. She crept into the cage, musing over what they had won in their effort to escape. There had been three victories as she saw them.
The first was confirmation that all three of them were wanted, alive and in at least fair condition. She had suspected this, but hadn’t known for certain. However, the fact that Harjeedian had not harmed Derian to punish Firekeeper made her fairly sure that Derian had not been kidnapped merely as a hostage against her good behavior.
The second victory was that she thought she had convinced Harjeedian that merely threatening either Blind Seer or Derian would not be enough to keep her in line. Deep inside, she wasn’t sure if this was true, but she thought that Harjeedian would be more careful. Whether this care would take the form of courtesy or more intensive imprisonment she couldn’t be certain. However, she felt she had regained some status, and wolf-like, she felt this was important.
The third victory was both the smallest and the largest. Only one of the two knives she had acquired in the scuffle had been taken from her. Shelby had demanded the return of his knife, but the blade Blind Seer had given her had not been noticed. At first opportunity, Firekeeper had slipped it inside the loose folds of the shirt she now wore. When Harjeedian had insisted she don trousers and a heavier shirt over the first as protection against the sharp spring winds, she had readily agreed.
Now the knife nestled between the baggy folds of the outer and inner shirts, hopefully undetectable. Firekeeper thought that Derian might also be armed. He had returned Rarby’s knife, but the butter knife, jagged-edged from working the chain, and the solid link of chain he had hidden in his fist had not been taken from him.
Of course, these victories would be lost if they were stripped and searched, but for now Firekeeper felt more secure. Her fangs were not drawn, only hidden.
Privately, she mourned the
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