The red dragon slammed into him like the wrath of the gods. Screeches that almost shattered Syla’s eardrums erupted as the huge creatures tumbled away, Wreylith’s talons slashing, raking deep into Agrevlari’s scales. The dragons disappeared from her view, a tremendous splash sounded, and the ship rocked in the waves.
Syla grabbed the wheel and hung on. Lesser splashes continued, and more screeches assailed her ears.
With smoke hazing the blue sky above the de-roofed wheelhouse, Syla couldn’t see if any more dragons were coming. Spatters also darkened the lenses of her spectacles. Water? No. Blood. Agrevlari’s?
As soon as the rocking lessened, Syla wiped off her lenses andrushed to the doorway, reminded that Fel had been in danger. The entirecrewhad been.
Outside, the smoke was so dense that it took her a moment to spot Fel. He was alive, still fighting with his back to the decoy. Talon holes had been torn into the tarp, but it remained in place, tied over the pile of crates. Thank the departed gods, no dragon had attempted to set it on fire yet.
The one who’d tried was… Syla peered about, attempting to locate the blue dragon and figure out what was happening. There. He was… swimming? No, he must have been knocked into the water. One of his wings appeared broken.
As she stepped farther out onto the deck, looking for Agrevlari, a great red dragon appeared over the railing, rising out of the water like a jumping whale. Wings flapping and spattering water droplets, Wreylith snaked her long neck toward Syla.
Fear froze her, fear and confusion. For a moment, Syla thought the dragon was angry and would end her life. But, as she had before, Wreylith wrapped her maw around Syla and flung her into the air.
Cursing in alarm, Syla flailed awkwardly while flattening one hand to her face to keep her spectacles on. The hook flew out of her other hand as she groped for something to grab. The dragon’s back. She had to land on the dragon’s back.
But Wreylith was already zipping after a nearby foe, and Syla saw only a streak of red—her tail. She reached out, catching it in a bear hug, and wrapped her legs around it. She smashed her face against the scales to keep her spectacles from flying away and hung on with every muscle. Terrified.
Fire danced in the air all around her. Someone attacking Wreylith? No, a gray dragon was spewing flames at a blue dragon with a rider. Was that the gray that Syla had seen flying overhead earlier?
Wreylith’s tail swished as she flew about, her jaws snapping atenemies and driving others away from the whaling ship. As she was whipped left and right, Syla struggled to figure out what was going on. It took her a moment to realize that Wreylith had not only come to help, but she’d brought allies. The other wild dragons that Syla had seen—and even more?
She craned her neck to look up and spotted Agrevlari with Vorik still on his back, flying over a smoldering wreck that was all that remained of one of the guard ships. Though blood leaked from numerous gouges in his flanks, the green dragon did not angle back toward Wreylith. Instead, he flew toward one of the other wild dragons.
That male desires to mate with me and will not attack me,Wreylith stated as she flew around the whaling ship, snapping a scaled enemy that lingered in the area, its rider firing at the crew.Many of the domesticated dragons seek to rut with a free wild dragon of my stature.
Syla knew little about the bonded dragons but suspected Agrevlari would be highly offended at being calleddomesticated. Or apet. That was what she’d said earlier.
At the moment, Syla did not care. She dared lift her head a little higher, hoping the stormers would give up. But there were more dragons with riders than wild dragons, and Vorik and Agrevlari were succeeding in driving the one they’d targeted away.
I’ve not had much experience with porting humans about,Wreylith said,but I’ve observed that they usually choose to ride on the back, not the tail.
The tail is easier to hang on to.Syla’s stomach tried to exit through her throat when Wreylith barrel-rolled to the left to avoid a cannonball—damn it, those men were firing at thewrongdragon.Especially when you do that.
Before, you used your magic to aid in clinging to my back.
I remember. I just?—
A dark shadow crossed through Syla’s vision before she couldfinish the thought—or consider how she might use her magic to maneuver from the tail to Wreylith’s back. The huge black dragon blotted out the sun as it flew toward the whaling ship.
No, not the ship.
It was plummeting toward Wreylith, talons outstretched, maw parted and sharp fangs gleaming in the sunlight.
I don’t think that one wants to mate with you, Syla thought.
No, he’s old and grumpy and doesn’t even remember how to rut. Hold on.
Syla did, squinting her eyes shut and hoping Wreylith could handle the big dragon. But, before the black reached them, a green blur swept in from the side. It—was that Agrevlari?—crashed into the black dragon, knocking it from its route. Both dragons tumbled past, missing Wreylith by only feet.
Flames blazed, and thunderous angry roars came from the dragons as they twisted in the air. The black appeared to be trying to get away, but the green, like a rabid dog, bit him and clung to his flank.
Still hugging herself to Wreylith’s tail, Syla gaped as she spotted Vorik and Jhiton… hanging on to their dragons, both their faces stamped with shock.
“Call off your dragon, Captain!” Jhiton yelled as his mount twisted again to bite the green.
Agrevlari was smaller, but he didn’t give up, instead slashing with his talons even as he lost a chunk of scale and flesh to the deadly bite of the black.
