“I suppose I could have guessed that. Sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.” He sighed, waved the piece of paper with the address, then again said, “I’ll find her.”
“Thank you.”
After he departed, Syla paced her room.
As late as it was, she should have slept, and yawns did plague her, but she was too agitated for rest. Besides, after the horrors of the day, her dreams would all be nightmares. Shewished she could do something and started to second-guess sending Fel away. If Tibby was out on the farm or in any of the agricultural buildings when Fel arrived, he might not find her. It was also possible that she wouldn’t remember him and come when he called. She also might have been attacked and be injured or dead. With a moon-mark of her own, shewouldbe a target.
Syla groaned and eyed her pack, wishing she’d tried harder to talk Fel into taking her. She untied the flap, debating if she should remove anything or… perhaps add to it in case she yet ended up going on a journey.
As she poked around, her fingers brushed the hard, glass-like wings of the dragon figurine. She pulled it out, and its magic warmed her hand. Surprised, she almost dropped it. It hadn’t done that before. She’dsensedits magic but couldn’t remember the figurine ever being warm to the touch.
Uneasy, she set it aside.
As she rubbed her palm on her dress, she thought of the strange Captain Vorik and his ploy, or whatever it had been. Was hetrulywaiting nearby in case she changed her mind and showed up? Maybe she should have sent the troops to check the lighthouse. But if his dragon was with him, he would be dangerous, and more people could end up killed. Evenwithouthis dragon, he was dangerous. She recalled the amazing speed and strength with which he’d fought. It hadn’t seemed… human.
She picked up the figurine, intending to set it back on its shelf, but its magic intensified.
She dropped it, pulling her hand back. Goosebumps rose all along her arms. Was it her imagination, or could sheseethe figurine radiating power? In all the years she’d had it, she’d never noticed anything like this from it.
“Are you more active right now because dragons are nearby?” Syla wondered.
Of course, it did not answer. But when she reached out and touched it again, an image came to mind. Or… was it a vision?
In her mind’s eye, she saw a great red-scaled dragon flying through a night sky brightened by stars and a half moon. Then, the perspective shifted, and she witnessed the world through theeyesof that dragon, the dark waves of the sea far below. How strange.
It—no, somehow Syla knew that the dragon was ashe—was flying miles out to sea, but lights were visible on the shoreline of a distant island.Castle Island.Syla recognized its contours even though far fewer lanterns burned in the streets and houses than usual. Many of those homes had been destroyed.
As the dragon continued on, Syla saw the lighthouse that Vorik had mentioned. It was quite distant, but the creature’s keen eyes had no trouble spotting another dragon perched atop it.
Beauteous Wreylith,a male telepathic voice said. Was… it speaking to the red dragon?Your presence honors me. Do you wish to go on a hunt?
There is a human on your back,the red dragon said,and you have been scurrying around doing his bidding. I have no interest in hunting with a dragon who is a peon for humans.
I am not a peon. I can fly free whenever I wish. It is only because I seek access to the delicious prey sheltered on these islands that I am assisting with the human scheme.
And because you’ll do whatever that rider wishes. He is less pathetic than many of his kind, but to lend him your power and let him be your master… It is disgraceful.
Captain Vorik is not my master, most beauteous Wreylith. We work together as a team. You’re looking lovely flying out there under the silvery moon with the starlight gleaming on your wings. I would enjoy hunting with you and showing you my prowess. I am a powerful dragon, not a peon.
Hush, Agrevlari.A feeling of startled suspicion came from the red dragon.We are monitored.
Syla sensed the dragon looking straight toward the castle, straight ather.
Still in her room, she stumbled back, removing her hand from the figurine. Her heart hammered. Whatwasthis artifact that had allowed her to witness a private conversation between two dragons?
Maybe it hadn’t been real, simply her imagination, but enough magic flowed through her veins that she recognized it at play. That had been?—
Who dares spy upon a dragon?the female’s voice boomed into Syla’s mind.
She wanted to quail and maybe to hide under the bed, but dragons respected power and bravery, so she dared not show weakness. But should she tell the truth? Or lie?
No, dragons reputedly didn’t respect liars or lie themselves as part of their way. Besides, couldn’t dragons read the thoughts of men? Was this one not, even now, communicating telepathically with her? Speaking words straight into hermind?
I am Princess Syla, and I inherited this figurine from my father. I did not realize it had the ability to communicate with dragons.
Tospyupon dragons.The female sounded furious.
