Warrior Rogue (The Drift Lords Series) (7 page)

“Sorry. We can always search for some bananas if we get hungry.”

“That’s the spirit.” Perching himself on a rocky ledge, Paz used the tools in the penknife to disassemble her gadgets. He spent several minutes working in silence, his face taut with concentration.

Jen leaned against a knobby tree trunk and studied him. Golden highlights in his hair glinted in a beam of sunlight. A stubborn lock fell across his forehead. He raked it back with stiff fingers, a motion he did often as though he preferred to see things with clarity.

Why, then, did she catch him wearing a guarded look when he thought no one was watching? Perhaps his confidence was tempered by an element of reserve.

Her brow beaded with perspiration in the jungle heat. A chittering noise came from a nearby tree, while something slithered among the dead leaves on the ground. Jen didn’t like to think about what might be lurking in the bushes, so she focused on Paz instead.

“What’s it like to be a Drift Lord? Do you really work in telecom in your down time?”

“Yes, that’s my real job. Being a Drift Lord is sort of like your Army Reserves. We’re called to duty only when a rift occurs.” He scratched his jaw. “Hey, you got any fire starters in that sack of yours?”

“You mean, like a lighter? I have matches if you need them. I take them from restaurants and keep a pack in my purse for emergencies.”

“Supernova! I just need to weld these two wires together and that should perform the trick.”

Her mouth curved upward. “It’s
do
the trick, Paz.” She glanced heavenward. “If you’re from up there, how did you learn English?”

He lifted his chin. “I’m the team’s Communications Officer and Linguistic Specialist. I speak many languages, but I also have an implanted translator.” He pointed to a spot behind his ear. “We need to get you one. I left all of my equipment in Florida. That’s why I have to get back there.”

Before she could ask him the rest of the questions hovering on her tongue, he snatched the matchbook from her hand. “Thanks. We should keep moving. I hear voices.”

She straightened, brushing debris off her dress. She, too, heard a murmur from somewhere off to the right. As she scanned the treetops, she picked up a trail of smoke in the distance.

“Hey, look. That smoke might be coming from someone’s chimney. It could lead us into town.”

“All right, but I should finish putting this unit together. It’ll give us an accurate fix on our location. We’ll need our coordinates if we want to summon help. Give me your scarf so I can carry these parts.” He dumped the components onto the piece of fabric Jen gave him and tied the ends together.

She prepared to move out. Her skin itched, and she yearned for a change of clothes. Her current state of dress made her a moving meal ticket for the friendly insects.

Jen traipsed through the undergrowth after Paz as he sought to put distance between their position and the beach. Probably anyone with tracking skills could follow them. They weren't making any effort to cover their trail.

Why did he suspect the natives might be hostile? Were they related to the thugs who disabled their plane? How could he know that? And where was the rest of his team? How had the man ended up bruised, naked, and confused on her film set?

Sweat trickled down her back and between her breasts. She craved water, air-conditioning, and telephone service. They did have electricity on these remote islands, didn’t they?

God, she hoped the inhabitants weren’t primitives with face paint and spears.

With each step, her fears escalated and so did her sense of the surreal. This couldn’t be happening to her. She must be trapped in a nightmare. But when she stumbled on a root, and Paz’s firm grip steadied her, she swallowed her doubts. Like it or not, she was stuck with him as her partner for now.

After what seemed an interminable trek but had only taken a half hour, Paz called a halt beside a cluster of ferns. Jen rubbed her arms, scratched from fronds and sharp-bladed plants.

“I’m going to finish compiling the PIP. You hear that sound of rushing water? Follow it to the source if it isn’t too far, but come back if you hear anyone nearby. We need to locate fresh water to avoid getting dehydrated.”

Without waiting for her reply, he settled onto a flat-topped boulder, unfolded the scarf in his lap, and got to work on assembling his device.

When she didn’t respond, he glanced up. “What?”

She propped her hands on her hips. “Are you going to tell me what to do the whole time?”

His lips compressed, and his gaze darkened. “Unless you have survival skills and know how to deal with nasties as well as other dangers, I suggest you let me call the slots.”

“It’s call the shots, tiger. Get your slang straight.”

He reminded her of a wild animal: clever, resourceful, and deadly. An aura of power emanated from him that radiated strength and prowess. She’d known the man only a few short hours but had faith in him to get them out of this fix.

He’d just finished his project when she returned to report on a nearby waterfall tumbling into a freshwater pond. She’d taken her time, relieving herself after ascertaining no one was watching, and then washing her hands and face in the pool.

Paz stood and panned his PIP around like Spock with his Tricorder. “We’re on Togura Island. It’s part of the Izu Archipelago south of Japan in the region known as the Dragon’s Triangle. Our arrival here cannot be a coincidence.”

“You’ve said that before. What do you mean?”

Paz’s eyes glittered as he regarded her. “I smelled cors particles on the aircraft just before the Trolleks vectored into view. The odor is strong on this island, and my improvised PIP confirms it. There’s a rift here.”

“O-kay.” Too weary to absorb his words, she signaled for him to follow her toward the water.

The gushing sound grew louder as they wove through the trees, their shoes scrunching on dead leaves. Overhead, a green parrot flitted from branch to branch. A loud screech from higher up spurred her to walk faster.

She stopped at the water’s edge, spray from the waterfall wetting her face. The pool’s surface glistened in the dappled sunlight. A pleasant nutmeg-like scent pervaded the air.

Paz aimed his device at the water, fiddled with the controls, and smiled triumphantly. “It’s clean. We can drink.”

After quenching their thirst, they headed toward a cluster of life signs on his device. It led them toward the east and away from their landing site.

Vines dangled in front of her nose. She brushed them aside, wary of cobwebs. Overhanging branches made her pulse quicken. She feared spiders or snakes dropping on her head.

A shudder racked her shoulders. She’d never been a nature fan and didn’t intend to start now. The sooner they reached civilization, the better.

All this talk of rifts and Trolleks confused her. Fatigue seeped into her bones, discouraging any further inquiries.

Her heart leapt when they emerged at the jungle’s edge where a small village hugged the coastline. A dirt road ran through the main street lined by pastel-colored houses on stilts. Chickens strutted in the yards where laundry was strung out to dry. Boats of varied sizes bobbed on the water. Likely the villagers made their living from fishing.

Paz held up a cautionary hand. “Let me do the talking.”

He approached a couple of women repairing a long net. They had weathered faces and wore simple, loose-fitting clothes. Jen followed in Paz’s wake, deferring to his expertise.

If he had so many skills as a Drift Lord, why wasn’t he doing more than repairing telecom equipment? Even if he dealt with advanced communications systems, it wouldn’t explain his complacency.

Every nugget he revealed about himself led to a greater mystery. Did he really want a job as a male model, or had he used that as an excuse to tag along? Her lips thinned. Sooner or later, she’d coax him to talk.

Right now, he engaged in conversation with the citizens of this peaceful village. They spoke in a foreign tongue incomprehensible to Jen.

Residents converged on the newcomers, staring with overt curiosity. Aware of how disheveled she and Paz must appear, Jen felt her face heat under their scrutiny.

Paz’s mouth turned down as he translated for her. “They don’t have any phones or radios here, but there’s a larger town to the north where we may be able to access a line to the mainland. We can rent a ride in one of their trucks to get there along the coastal route.”

“That’s a good idea. These shoes aren’t made for hiking.” She stooped to brush sand from between her toes. The abrasive grains irritated her skin. Blisters would form if she didn’t wash her feet and get decent footwear.

One of the women, missing a couple of teeth, rattled off a series of sentences. Paz’s response came back laced with anger.

“What is it?” Jen plucked at her skirt, hoping the air would cool with the descending sun. The smell of dead fish brewed in the heat.

“A group of men stopped by here earlier asking about us. They’d spotted our aircraft and were headed toward our landing site.” He paused. “They had guns.”

“Oh.” She swallowed. “Trolleks?”

He shook his head. “Sons of these folks. Lord Morar of Shirajo Manor pressed them into service.”

“Pressed them? You mean, he forced them to work?”

His jaw tightened. “The Trolleks turned them into mind slaves. The men do whatever they’re told, and they were ordered to intercept us and bring us to their master.”

“Did this warlord send those goons to disable our jet? Does this mean we’ve landed right in his lair?” Her pitch rose as she realized their jeopardy.

Paz’s expression hardened. “I believe so.”

“Then let’s hire a boat and get out of here.”

“These are local fishing boats. If we want to hire a seaworthy vessel, we’ll have to go to Kamaji, the town on the north coast.”

She swept her arm in a semicircle while the breeze whipped hair into her face. “This island has only two towns plus an enemy fortress?”

Paz made an inquiry to the residents. A gaunt man in a tattered shirt muttered something in response. The Drift Lord gave a resigned sigh before speaking in English to Jen.

“This guy claims the interior is too mountainous to traverse and has a volcano that rumbles whenever the gods get angry. The south coast is rocky with cliffs, so they can’t fish off that side. Plus a deadly sea serpent lives there and swallows boats whole.”

Jen rolled her eyes. “This just keeps getting better. Then we’ll hitch a ride in a truck, go to the larger village, and hire a boat to take us off this damn island.”

Paz’s intense gaze bored into hers. “I’m not leaving yet. It’s my job to determine the source of the cors particles, locate the rift, and shut it down. Unfortunately, I believe the Trollek stronghold is where we’ll find our answers.”

“No, thanks.” She slung her purse strap over her other shoulder. “I’ll take these people up on their kind offer for transportation, and you can do your hero thing.”

Paz gave a snort of laughter. “Do you really think you’d get far without me?”

She lifted her nose. “I can try.”

“You’ll end up getting yourself killed. The Trolleks are onto you now, and they’ll take you any way they can—dead or alive. If you want a chance at survival, you’ll have to stick with me.”

Jen glared at him while her blood chilled at the truth of his statement. She couldn’t even understand these people without his help. But to head straight into the lion’s den? What did he hope to accomplish?

She asked him after they garnered a ride to Kamaji on the dirt road paralleling the coast. They rode on the flatbed of a pickup truck amid a tangle of tools and a closed metal box. The ride was a series of bumps that jostled them against each other.

“Are you thinking of breaking into the Trollek compound?” Her nose clogged from the dust kicked up in their wake. “We could be walking into a trap.”

“They’ll be expecting us to escape the island.” His eyes glimmered in the late afternoon sunlight. “Look, even if I locate the rift, I don’t know how they’re keeping it open. We have to shut down these portals to stop their invasion. That’s our team’s main objective, but we need more intelligence. How
are
they keeping these rifts open against the pressure from the cors particles?”

“It must take a lot of energy.”

“Exactly. I can’t pass up this opportunity to learn more about their technology.”

“How many inter-dimensional rifts are there?”

“We don’t know. The Trolleks activated a jamming device that blinded our sensors. We spent several weeks trying to locate their signal. Finally, we found it in a warehouse near Drift World.”

“The adult role-playing theme park in Orlando?”

“Correct.” He nodded, a lock of hair falling into his face. With an impatient gesture, he thrust it back. “Our last mission was meant to destroy the jammer. I am unaware of the ultimate outcome.”

He glanced away, but not before she caught the flicker of pain in his eyes.

“Who else is on your team?”

“We started out as seven, but we lost three men.” He drew a deep breath. “Rayne got killed, Kaj went missing, and Dal was poisoned. A traitor among us worked for Zohar’s political opponents from home and betrayed us to the Trolleks. Zohar Thorald is our captain,” he explained.

“That’s only six, including you.”

Paz nodded, his gaze distant. “Yaron is our medic and the seventh team member. At the last count, only three of us were left. This doesn’t include Lord Magnor, a Tsuran swordsman who joined our team unofficially as did Nira Larsen.”

“Tell me about this woman.”

Paz focused on the shrubbery bordering the road. “She’s an expert on Norse mythology and one of the principles in the prophecy. All of us were captured during this last mission. A Trollek pushed me into a pit housing the power source for the jamming device. I hit my head. That’s the last I remember before waking up on the film set.”

They hit a pothole, and the truck shook and rattled.

Jen’s eyes widened. “Do you mean to tell me you started out in Orlando and ended up in Tokyo?
Naked?
How is that possible?”