Though he had to watch and listen for other threats in the tunnels, Vorik glanced back often, hoping Syla was listening intently. He didn’t expect a gardener to be sympathetic to his people, especially when the stormers hadjustdestroyed so much of the kingdom’s capital and killed her entire family, but he hoped she would at least understand some of what motivated them. That would make it easier for her to be sympathetic to him, to believe he might prove an ally.
“Get to the point, rider,” Fel growled.
That the bodyguard said the noble profession like an insult, as if riders were pirates or brigands, made Vorik bristle. He was honorable, damn it. He’d only attacked military ships or cargo ships with armed escorts, and he’d always battled them openly, not striking in the night. But… he admitted that some other riders used more guerrilla tactics. Especially those from tribes on the brink of starvation. It was hard to resist a cargo ship full of freshly harvested crops.
“In recent decades, the tribes have banded together for common purposes,” Vorik said, keeping his voice calm, trusting he wouldn’t win regard from the princess by sniping at her injured bodyguard, “and created a loose coalition. None of the tribes rule over another, but all who want to be allied send soldiers to be trained, either as part of the Storm Guard or, for those who have great aptitude and can entice a dragon into allowing itself to be ridden, the Sixteen Talons Air Fleet. Our goal is?—”
“Weknowwhat your goal is.” Grim-faced, Syla looked past him toward an intersection.
As of yet, it was empty, and Vorik didn’t hear anyone elsewhere in the tunnels, but his dragon’s warning made him want to hurry.
“Yes, we soldiers have not hidden our goal.” Enticed by the thought of the wondrous fruits and vegetables and delicious fleshof livestock that had never known a life of tension and terror, Vorik had been known to cry out for the destruction of the sky shields more than once as he’d battled ships navigating from island to island, out from under the magical protection as they carried supplies throughout the kingdom. “But the Freeborn Faction is different. They—we—” Oh, how painful it was to touch his chest as he uttered thatweand pretend his allegiance, “—have attempted to open negotiations with your queen in recent years. Those of us in the faction seekpermissionto return to the kingdom and are willing to obey its rules in exchange for the easier life found under the sky shields.”
From what Vorik had heard, the king had been more open to negotiations, but the queen ruled—hadruled—without sympathy for outsiders. She hadn’t wanted to allow stormers under any circumstances to visit the kingdom. Ever.
Syla’s eyebrows drew together, and she looked to her bodyguard.
“That faction’s envoys haven’t been trusted when they’ve shown up,” Fel said, then lowered his voice. “You’d have more details than I if you’d gone to more family dinners.”
Thanks to his keen hearing—it was one of the magical attributes that his bond with Agrevlari lent him—Vorik didn’t have any trouble hearing the man.
Syla looked toward the tunnel’s arched stone ceiling, or maybe she was looking through it with her imagination to the castle above. “I… haven’t decided yet whether it’s fortuitous or dreadful that I didn’t arrive at tonight’s dinner in time.”
The bodyguard opened his mouth but didn’t seem to know what to say and closed it again.
Vorik stopped in the intersection, a single lantern mounted there burning low. He doubted his people had lit the way and suspected the now-dead princess, who he knew had been lured down for a tryst with Lieutenant Mavus, had been responsible.Vorik regretted that Mavus had died to the bodyguard’s mace but didn’t know how he might have stopped that. It had been bad enough that Anok had blurtedsirand been startled when Vorik rushed in. Neither of the men, of course, had been filled in on General Jhiton’s recently formed plan. Vorik was glad that Anok had caught onto his eye-widening signals and had figured out to play dead when Vorik thrust his sword between the soldier’s arm and chest instead of, as he’d attempted to convey, through Anok’s heart.
Princess Syla had seemed a little suspicious as they’d walked away from the chamber, but she must not have figured out the ruse completely, or she would have ordered her bodyguard to finish the man off. She certainly wouldn’t have left Anok there with the shielder. Oh, the thing had looked utterly destroyed to Vorik’s eye, but he trusted Anok wouldensureit was before slipping away. Vorik hoped he would also be able to take Mavus’s body with him so the lieutenant could have a proper funeral pyre, incineration by a dragon, as all who served in the Sixteen Talons wished to be in the end. If not… Well, he’d been willing to give his life—and risk unrest in the afterlife—to ensure the stormers finally,finallyhad access to the lands under the shields.
“What matters is that the Freeborn Faction wants peace with your people, not war,” Vorik said, drawing their gazes back to him. He didn’t add that those belonging to the treacherous little group were willing to undermine the Storm Guard and even the Sixteen Talons by passing information along to gardener spies. It had only been by extremely careful planning and letting only the most trusted officers know about this day’s attack beforehand that the riders had been able to keep the details from leaking out. Success had not been certain, not in the least. “We have so many taloned and fanged enemies in the world that we in the faction believe humans should work together going forward.Wedidn’t want this attack.” Again, Vorik made himself touch his chest to imply hewas a part of the faction, though it galled him to claim that allegiance.
It also bothered him to lie to the princess. Oh, he didn’t care to lie to anyone, under any circumstances, but she hadn’t done anything to earn his deceit or the implied disdain that went along with being mendacious with a person.
Vorik didn’t feel disdain for her. He even smiled at the memory of her hurling her pack at Anok.
His first assessment of Syla had been that she wouldn’t be the type to leap into a fray—for a healer, that made sense—but she also wasn’t one to quail in shock and fear at the first sign of a threat. There was a determined sturdiness to her, despite the lack of lean athleticism he was used to in stormer women, and he found the juxtaposition intriguing.
“We didn’t see you stopping it,” Fel stated.
Since they’d spotted him on Agrevlari’s back and possibly helping destroy munitions, Vorik couldn’t deny that. He wished he’d known that his brother would come up with this schemebeforethe riders had descended upon the capital. He could have been less brazen about showing himself.
“No. It’s complicated. At this point, I still have General Jhiton’s trust. In order to ensure he stays in the dark, I’ve hidden my allegiance to the faction from all but a few of its key leaders. Currently, the general is likely to share intelligence with me, which I then share with the faction leaders. Unfortunately, I didn’t learn of the attack on your people until it was too late to warn you. Even if I had known… the faction is small. There is little we can do against the Storm Guard and the riders. What I’m doing now…” Vorik waved to himself and then back the way they’d come, toward the chamber and the men he’d left behind. “I risk Jhiton finding out about my divided loyalties. If I can, in secret, help protect you, that would be ideal.”
“Do you need to protect me because your people are planningmore attacks?” Syla scrutinized him through her spectacles. “On my people? And me specifically?”
Those lenses, Vorik was certain, did nothing to indicate a lack ofmentalacuity. He would have to be careful not to inadvertently give away intelligence, at least not related to anything important. Even through the spectacles, Syla’s eyes, with dark-gray depths that reminded him of storm clouds at sea, had a captivating intentness that made himwantto answer her questions. Was it because there was magic about her? His own power allowed him to sense it radiating from her. He also caught himself wanting to see her eyes—seeher—without the spectacles. The frames were large enough that they almost kept him from noticing the curve of her cheeks, the gentle outline of a cute nose, and the fullness of her lips. They were quite kissable lips.
“Captain?” Syla prompted.
“There will be more attacks.” Vorik realized he’d been staring openly at her—and her lips.
“Are your people going afterallof the shielders?”
“The leaders of the tribes want more than Castle Island.”
“They can’t know where the other shielders are,” Fel said.
“I’m uncertain what General Jhiton and the other high-ranking officers know, but in the last meeting I attended with him, he was confident that his plan would result in the stormers gaining access toallof the islands.” An image of an apple floated into Vorik’s mind, dew droplets beading on its perfect red skin, and his empty stomach grumbled as he imagined flying over Orchard Island and harvesting the fruit.
