Page 205 of The Cradle of Ice
Jace spoke up, his voice small and shocked. “The bomb. It wasn’t in the armament crate at the stern. When I was headed back to the skiff, I saw a curl of smoke rising at the bow, from under the bench. Where I was seated.”
“What was under there?” Graylin asked.
Jace gulped, trying to get his next words out. “It was Fenn’s pack, the one with the compass and the navigational tools.”
Despite Daal’s grief, he turned to face Jace. His voice was hoarse, fueled by fury. “Are you certain?”
Jace backed a step from whatever showed on Daal’s face. “Y … Yes.”
Daal shoved around, slid deeper into the water, and rounded the bulk of Neffa.
“What are you doing?” Nyx asked softly.
Through clenched jaws, he answered, “We need to get back to the Crèche.”
Nyx stepped closer. “How—?”
“You know as well as I do. We’ve done it before.”
Daal removed Neffa’s harness—and freed the saddle from her back.
79
NYX WATCHED DAAL undo Neffa’s rigging with great tenderness. His shoulders shook, but she didn’t know if it was from grief or fury.
He climbed out of the water and handed her the saddle. It was draped by a tangle of cinches. It looked complicated, but she knew each piece, drawing the knowledge from a blur of memories—both Daal’s and those of the ancient riders of the raash’ke.
The two saddles were not dissimilar.
Daal collected a second one from Mattis, then joined her.
His eyes were pained, pleading. “Ask them.”
She wanted to argue, but she knew there was no other way for them to return to the Crèche. And Daal was right about one thing.
We have done this before.
The knowledge of those ancient riders was buried inside her, inside Daal.
Graylin suspected what Daal was requesting her to do. “You mean to attempt to saddle and mount a pair of raash’ke? To fly back to the Crèche?”
“We must get back somehow. The blistering heat, the lack of fresh water, the sulfur in the air. We won’t last more than a day or two.”
“There could be a chance. Darant had promised to search for us with the Sparrowhawk if we didn’t return.”
Nyx shook her head, remembering her fiery view of the Crèche. “It may already be too late for the Sparrowhawk.”
Vikas gestured her mute support, “While we’re stuck here, we might as well attempt it.”
Jace stood with his arms crossed. “There are only two saddles.” He unfolded his arms and waved to the others. “What about us?”
Daal answered. “The raash’ke are very good at carrying live prey back to their roosts.”
His words did not sit well with Jace—not Daal’s choice of description, not what he was suggesting.
Graylin looked undecided, but it was not his choice.
Nyx turned to Shiya. “Can you help me reach out to them?”
