He shoved the broken crystal back into his pack, together with his ropes. As he tied the torn flap shut, he wondered how long it would take the second riverboat to reach them. Thinking about that, he realized the broken dorje wasn’t his only problem. When the riverboat came to rescue them, it wound also recover the bodies Karrell was so diligently recovering. Its crew wouldn’t want to travel with these all the way to Ormpetarr. Instead they would return to the closest town—to Riverboat Landing…
Which was the last place Arvin wanted to go… Especially if Zelia was still there.
As the dark shape that had been moving upriver drew closer, resolving into a riverboat, Arvin waved his arms above his head. This boat had neither sail nor rudder. Instead it was drawn by a giant eagle whose talons gripped a crossbar attached to the end of the bowsprit. The bird was enormous, with a wingspan nearly as wide as the riverboat was long. The eagle let out a screech as it spotted the pair of humans on the island, and the boat slowly turned until its bow was pointed toward them.
“They’ve seen us,” Arvin said, lowering his arms. Warming his back at the fire they’d built from wood salvaged from the wreck of the first riverboat, he watched as the boat draw nearer. He tried to pick out the figures on board, hoping he wasn’t going to see an all-too-familiar face.
He’d wrapped a scarf around his face so that only his eyes showed and had disappeared his dagger into his glove. If Zelia was on board, these crude preparations might give him a chance to catch her off guard. He just wished he hadn’t used up his store of psionic energy. He couldn’t even manifest a simple distraction, let alone shield himself from whatever Zelia might hurl at him.
Karrell stared at the approaching boat. “Is it dangerous?”
It took Arvin a moment to realize she was talking about the eagle. “I’m sure we’ll be fine,” he said. “They wouldn’t use a bird that wasn’t tame. They probably raised it from a hatchling.”
Karrell seemed unconvinced. As the riverboat drew up to them, dropping anchor next to the island, she took a step back. The eagle—taller than a human and looming even larger from its perch on the bowsprit—flapped its massive wings in agitation, stirring up ripples in the water on either side of the boat. It must have sensed Karrell’s uneasiness, for it snapped its beak in her direction. The driver—a human with close-cropped brown hair—gave the reins a quick yank, jerking the bird’s head back. He stood on the bow, just behind the bowsprit.
“Sorry,” he called out. “She usually isn’t this skittish.”
Arvin’s mind was on other things. By now, the elf would have told everyone at Riverboat Landing about their narrow escape from the naga—and the role that “Vin” had played in it. The chances were slight that the sailor would have mentioned Arvin’s pack and the “strange-looking rope” that had spilled from it. But if he had, and Zelia had overheard….
Arvin glanced quickly over the boat’s open deck. Besides the driver, the crew included two sailors—one working the tiller at the rear of the boat and one amidships—and two guards. As before, they were stationed at rail-mounted crossbows on either side of the boat. Their eyes ranged warily over the river.
Zelia wasn’t on board. Arvin breathed a sigh of relief.
The sailor lifted a gangplank over the side of the boat; Arvin caught the end of it and placed it firmly on the island’s rocky shore. Then he made his way across it. Karrell followed, keeping him between her and the eagle. “Don’t worry,” Arvin said over his shoulder. “I’m sure the driver will hold it in check.”
The eagle turned, keeping a baleful eye on Karrell as she approached the boat.
Arvin climbed aboard and turned to help Karrell, but the sailor was there first, handing her a woolen blanket. She took it but ignored his urgings that she wrap it around her shoulders. Arvin, whose clothes were also still sodden, wasn’t offered a blanket.
“Will we be continuing to Ormpetarr?” Arvin asked.
The sailor—a man with calloused hands and uncombed hair—shook his head. “Nope. Back to Riverboat Landing to finish loading.” His eyes lingered appreciatively on Karrell.
Arvin fought down his uneasiness. “But I need to get to Ormpetarr quickly,” he protested. “I have important business there that mustn’t be delayed.”
The sailor grunted. “Where we go next depends on how much coin you’ve got. Speak to the captain.” He jerked his head in the direction of the man on the bow. Then, together with the second sailor, he crossed the gangplank to the island and surveyed the five bodies Karrell and Arvin had recovered from the river. Karrell had laid them out in a neat row, arranging their arms at their sides and closing their eyes before the bodies stiffened.
Arvin approached the captain. The eagle had settled down, allowing him to slacken the reins. Arvin repeated his plea to journey directly to Ormpetarr, but the captain shook his head.
