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“Riella—”
She shook her head. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
Before he could say more, she slipped away and climbed the rigging.
The desertion of crew members was yet another blow to their cause. Would their luck ever change for the better? Perhaps not, when death was her ultimate destination. No worse luck existed.
With clear blue skies and a calm sea, the Pandora traveled swiftly. Hieros Isle came into view within hours. From her vantage point, Riella was the first to lay eyes on the island.
She squinted, dread creeping up her spine. Splashes of red stained the white sand of the beach.
Then, she saw the body, slumped and broken in the shade of a palm tree.
CHAPTER 28
Riella and Jarin climbed from the rowboat on the beach and rushed to the broken figure beneath the tree.
In the dappled shade of the palm, Ferrante’s bleeding body seemed grossly at odds with the picturesque tropical surroundings. Jarin crouched next to Ferrante, touching his shoulder with care. Riella and Berolt stood back, surveying the tree line. The assailants appeared to have departed the island, and recently—drag marks in the sand indicated that a series of rowboats had been and gone.
The Pandora’s crew came ashore, armed with the axes and swords and clubs from the slaver’s stronghold. If only the ship had returned to the island sooner. They’d missed the attack by a slim margin, judging by the crimson freshness of the blood.
Riella feared for Kohara and the children. Along with Ferrante, they had been the only people to remain on the island after the Pandora set sail. Were they taken as hostages? Or had something worse happened?
Jarin eased Ferrante onto his back. A red bubble expanded from the old man’s mouth, and he groaned. He was alive, but perhaps barely. His face was covered in blistering burns, like he’d been held to hot coals. His legs were heavily lacerated and his skinny right arm was bent at a strange angle, as were several of his fingers.
Riella fought the urge to vomit. Injuring a defenseless blind man was more than she could stomach. To call the assailants animals would be an insult to animals.
“He was tortured,” said Jarin in a grim tone, raking his eyes over Ferrante’s wounds. “I recognize these methods. It was Artus.”
A fresh wave of nausea hit the siren. Why would Artus torture Ferrante? He was trying to find the amulet, surely. Or perhaps glean Jarin and Riella’s location to retrieve the map, depending on how much Artus already knew. After being blindsided by Polinth, Riella was reluctant to assume anything.
Ferrante rasped. Jarin put his ear to the old man’s mouth, frowning in concentration.
“He says they’re hiding. He must mean Kohara and the kids. Riella, see if you can find them. Call out. They’ll come if they know it’s you. We’ll get Ferrante to camp.”
She nodded and jogged into the tree line. Berolt and Jarin had begun the delicate process of relocating the old mystic’s crushed form. Ferrante’s anguished cry reached her from the beach, making her wince with sympathy. It almost seemed crueler for Artus to have left Ferrante alive.
“Kohara!” called Riella as she skirted the sandy path toward the camp. “Nuri!”
The only reply was the hypnotic buzz of insects and chattering parrots. Riella chewed the inside of her cheek. If the pirates would hurt a blind elderly man, she had little faith they’d spare a woman and children.
The absence of blood on the path did give her some hope that Kohara and the children had successfully hidden before meeting Artus and his vicious crew.
But any hope came crashing down when she reached the camp. The treehouses were torn apart, the shelters surrounding the fire pit knocked over, and the food supply ruined. Hessian sacks of flour and rice were upended onto the sandy ground, and stank strongly of urine—a stench worsened by the heat of the blaring sun.
With fresh fear, she headed down the track she and Jarin had taken to Ferrante’s caves. She figured that Kohara and the children may’ve gone farther inland to hide. The path was relatively undisturbed, suggesting that Artus and his men didn’t venture this way.
Riella cupped her mouth to amplify her voice. “Kohara! Nuri! Ruslo! It’s safe to come out! The Pandora has returned!”
She searched behind mossy boulders and inside hollow tree trunks, to no avail. But Kohara and the children knew the island far better than she did—if the siren found them, it would be because they wanted her to.
Ruslo dropped from a tree overhead so suddenly that Riella jumped backward.
“Gods, you surprised me,” she said.
Nuri leaped from the branch, landing nimbly next to her brother on the path. Their hair was messy and their faces were filthy, but they seemed unharmed.
“Are you alright?” asked Riella. “Where’s Kohara?”
