“I’m saving you!” Tibby called. “Run toward the door.”
Fel trotted to the side of the road, probably thinking the machine would have more trouble navigating through the grass after him. Syla doubted it. Vorik ran straight toward the other tractor, his sword still in hand.
As ifthatwould stop the thing. It had to weigh tons.
Someone inside pushed open one of the large shop doors.
“This way, Your Highness.” A boy of fourteen or fifteen leaned out and waved at her.
Syla hesitated, not wanting to abandon the men. Either of them.
As the tractors pulled away from the building, they increased in speed. The one after Fel charged off the road without trouble, tearing into the grass and angling straight for him with the unerring aim of a hawk. Vorik crouched, prepared to spring atop the other machine, but a shadow swept over the road. The dragon.
Agrevlari swooped down with his talons extended. As big as the dragon was, the core of his body not much larger than the tractor, Syla didn’t expect what came next.
With a great flexing of the muscles in his back and legs, Agrevlari plucked up the machine before it reached Vorik. Wings flapping so hard that the nearby grass flattened to the ground, the dragon rose into the air with the tractor.
Aboomcame from the loft window, Tibby firing the hand-cannon.
“Look out!” Syla yelled to Vorik.
But her aunt had aimed at the dragon. Propelled by black powder, the ball slammed into Agrevlari’s flank.
Unlike the red dragon, who’d seemed impervious to allattacks, he screeched in pain or fury—or both—and dropped the tractor. He’d carried it high enough that when it crashed down next to an irrigation canal, it landed on its side with a thunderouscrunch.After that, it didn’t move, other than the wheels spinning uselessly in the air.
Flames shot from Agrevlari’s maw, though it seemed a reflexive part of his rage, for he didn’t have a target. Not until he banked and started back toward them.
“Hurry, Syla!” Tibby yelled. “Get inside.”
As if a woodenbuildingwould stop dragon fire.
But Syla obeyed, partially out of fear of Agrevlari but mostly because she wanted to convince her aunt to stop attacking the men. As she darted toward the door, she spotted Fel dealing with the other machine. He’d managed to clamber onto it and into the driver’s seat. After having no success using the steering mechanism, he started pounding on the control panel with his mace. The tractor continued to run, circling the shop as it weaved and sped up and slowed down, as if some intelligence guided it.
Syla reached the open door, and the kid guided her into the dim interior, few windows brightening the way. Even with her spectacles, her vision wasn’t as good as other people’s, and with the light change, Syla almost crashed into another giant machine scant feet inside.
“Is that… a catapult?” Syla peered around it, seeking a ladder to the loft.
“Yes, we drove off another dragon with the magical exploding ammunition that your aunt made. Lady Tibaytha, do you want me to roll out the catapult to use on this dragon?”
“Yes!” Tibby yelled. “Hurry, Terrik.”
“No.” Syla gripped the boy’s arm to keep him from throwing the doors open wide to do exactly that. “That dragon is…” She groped for a way to explain Agrevlari and Vorik, who would probably charge into the shop any moment.
“Spitting up bones!” Tibby cried from the loft.
Syla looked back outside. She’d expected Agrevlari to light the area on fire, but he’d landed on the road near Vorik, who held his sword at his side as he watched Fel riding around on the tractor while ripping pieces from it. Hacking noises came from the dragon. Muscles in his neck undulated, and, like an owl regurgitating the bones of its prey, Agrevlari threw up in the grass.
Abruptly, the rumble of the remaining tractor engine stopped.
In the silence, Vorik’s voice was audible as he mildly said, “I told you not to eat the second sheep.”
“My sheep!” Tibby said. “That dragon is eating my sheep? I’ll shoot it again. And—you. You pompous bastard, what did you do to my tractor?”
It took Syla a moment to realize she was yelling at Fel now instead of the dragon.
“Aunt Tibby, please come down. We need to talk. These men are… uhm…” Syla almost said allies, which Fel certainly was, but what exactly Vorik was, she hadn’t decided.
“I’m here to protect Princess Syla,” Vorik stated, striding through the doorway.
