More determined than ever, I pressed the blade tighter against Gabe’s side. “Where is she?”
He opened his mouth to respond, when an explosion from above ground shook the earth, sending whole chunks of dirt down on our heads. We ducked and eyed each other with a mutual understanding. Lonetree was under attack.
My voice became more earnest. “Gabe?”
This time, he relented, pointing down the tunnel. “Last door on the right.”
I tapped his shoulder in appreciation then ran down the corridor while he went the other way. More Coracks were emptying from every part of the cave, calling out orders and distributing weapons from the cache rooms. There were no other explosions, so maybe that had been a mere warning, but it was one we had to take seriously.
Loelle appeared at the far end of the corridors. “Everyone return to your quarters, where it’s safe! Let the captain work this out.”
But if anyone heard her, they didn’t listen. Instead, someone called out, “Dominion?”
From the surface, another person answered, “No. Brown and blue. Halderian colors.”
The very fact that they were openly wearing their colors was significant, given that just being identified as Halderian made a person a target of the Dominion. They hadn’t launched an organized attack since losing the war, and they shouldn’t have any complaint against us. Our alliance wasn’t official, but it had been reliable since the Coracks’ earliest years. What had changed?
Kestra. They knew she was here.
The Halderians were far from enthusiastic about Kestra as the Infidante, but I’d thought they had accepted her. Certainly Thorne, the current Halderian leader, supported Kestra. Why wasn’t he stopping this? And how did the Halderians know she was here anyway?
“Captain!” Breaking the silence, Trina lowered herself down a ladder and burst through the corridor right past me. “They’ve sent a messenger through. We have ten minutes to respond.”
Tenger darted from his office and must have heard her, because he said, “What’s the message?”
Trina handed him a paper, which he held up to an embedded clearstone to read, then his face tightened into a grimace. “Unacceptable.”
Behind him, Loelle seemed to have guessed at what the paper said. “We must move Kestra to safety, Captain.”
“Agreed.” He looked around until he found me. “Hatch, you’re coming with me to speak to them. Someone find Basil, he’s coming too!”
“I’ll get Kestra,” Loelle offered.
But Tenger shook his head. “You need to prepare for our wounded, though I hope it won’t come to that.”
“Let me go,” I offered. “I’ll protect her better than anyone in this camp, you know that!”
Tenger snorted. “You’re with me, and you’d better remember your orders. Trina, wherever Kestra is, Basil will be there too. Send him to me, and then you stay with her.”
“Yes, sir.” Trina eyed me as if she’d just achieved some sort of victory. Maybe she had.
Tenger sent me up the ladder ahead of him, then once we were on top, he cursed and said, “I should have brought your sword … Your Highness.”
He raised a hand to signal someone to go down for it, but I grabbed his arm and shook my head. “I meant what I said before. I won’t claim any title from these people, certainly not now while they’re attacking us!”
“They only wanted our attention.”
“No, they want Kestra, and that explosion was their way of saying they intend to leave with her, one way or the other. Isn’t that what the message said?”
Tenger nodded. “They demand that she return with them to the Hiplands. I’ve got to offer them a compromise, for all our sakes.”
“What compromise?”
By then, Basil poked his head above the surface. “Halderians?” he asked. “I thought they were on our side.”
“I thought so too.” Tenger pressed his lips together and began walking forward. I followed on his right and Basil was on his left. The thought occurred to me that if we were forced to negotiate, I might offer Basil in exchange for Kestra. Or better yet, exchange him for nothing at all. Either way, she was not leaving with them, not under any circumstances.
We approached a line of blue-and-brown flags carried by a half dozen men in similar colors. In front of them were another ten Halderians with thick leather tunics and fur cloaks, each wearing a brown sash with three thin blue stripes over one shoulder. I immediately noticed Gerald, the man who’d been a spy in Woodcourt when I was there. Because of his bluish skin, he was easy to spot, but he was watching me too, with a stern expression that struck me as a warning. Beside him was a girl near my age who had latched on to me with her eyes, though I couldn’t tell if it was friendly or not. In the center of them all, a man dismounted, obviously in command. It wasn’t Thorne, but I had seen this man before, in the audience when Kestra claimed the Olden Blade. He was large, had closely shaved hair, and was the only one with armor over his chest. The Halderians definitely wanted their presence known.