Ignoring him, Vorik walked to the garden and handed the spectacles to Syla.
“Oh, thank you,” she said with such relief in her voice that it clued him in to how poor her eyesight had to be without the implements.
An unfortunate handicap, though he’d observed that gardeners were often afflicted with it. Myopia was rare among his people; stormers were more likely to lose one or both eyes in battle, leaving a vision deficiency that spectacles couldn’t help.
With hers secured over her ears again, Syla efficiently collected the ingredients she needed and turned for the house. Before she headed that way, Vorik handed her his collection of blackberries. He didn’t have much hope of her making that cobbler now, but if she was going to be in the kitchen anyway…
Her expression was bemused, but she accepted them, then headed toward the house. Vorik started after her, but Tibby had parked her machine and stepped out to intercept him. Maybe she’d seen the blackberry exchange and didn’t approve.
“You are not needed, rider,” Tibby said, “and we would appreciate it if you would leave our island. Your people have done enough damage here.”
“I’m not needed? Surely, you don’t think you’ve made an ally of that dragon.” Vorik waved toward Wreylith, noticing that Agrevlari had alighted on another silo.
Wreylith was ignoring him utterly. Poor fellow. He needed to stick to flirting with females who didn’t scoff at bonded dragons.
“I do not believe that, no.” Tibby eyed Wreylith warily. No, she was eyeingbothdragons warily. “I would like to encourage them to leave as well.Myplan is to find a ship for our journey.” Her gaze swung back to him, her eyes cool behind her glass lenses. “A journey on which you are not invited.”
“Princess Syla has found me useful.Shemay invite me.”
“If she wanted to go off with you, she wouldn’t be trying to woo a different dragon to help us.”
“I’m certain she’s simply attempting to arrange transportation for you and her bodyguard. She was most pleased to ride with me earlier. Agrevlari is a far more agreeable dragon than that one. Far less likely toslaythose he allows to ride him.”
“I’m sure he slew plenty of kingdom subjects last night.”
Vorik hesitated. He couldn’t deny that. Those had been their orders. Never would he have guessed that his brother would come up with this plan.
“Last night, my status as an agent of the Freeborn Faction had not yet been discovered by the rest of my people,” Vorik said quietly, aware that Syla had shared his story with her aunt. “I understand why you mistrust me, but I’ve been commanded toprotect the princess, and, since you are moon-marked, I will protect you, as well, if you’ll let me.”
“You wanted to take Syla and leave her bodyguard and me behind, notprotectme.”
Vorik spread his arms. “I only said that my dragon can carry at most two riders.”
“We knowwhichtwo he intended to ride on that dragon,” Fel grumbled.
Tibby nodded at him, and they locked similar suspicious glowers on Vorik. Maybe she’d decided to forgive the bodyguard for his transgressions against her machine.
Clinks and clunks came from the kitchen as Syla prepared whatever she needed to make the salve. She was either oblivious to the argument outside or doing her best to ignore all of them. Probably a wise choice.
Tibby said something about packing a bag and getting some books, then strode inside, leaving only Fel glowering at Vorik.
“I admit I didn’t expect her to call a second dragon. Or stand fearlessly while she approached.” Vorik flexed his fingers in the air to mimic talons, and he smiled, though he’d not often observed that men found the gesture as charismatic and appealing as women did. Most women. The aunt hadn’t been noticeably affected by his smile. “Considering she’s not a trained warrior, she has… nerve.”
The compliment only made the bodyguard’s glower deepen. Maybe he didn’t want an enemy rider admiring his charge’s nerve.
So be it. Vorik collected the fruit he’d picked earlier and waited to see if Syla would succeed in talking Wreylith into offering a ride.
If she did… Vorik would have to find another way to get rid of the bodyguard and aunt. He had no doubt that they were scheming to get rid ofhim.
19
While the salvesimmered in a pot and a berry cobbler baked in the oven, Syla found twine and did her best to tie it to the frames of her spectacles. She had a spare pair in her pack, but they were older, the lenses even weaker than the ones she was wearing. She didn’t want to lose these, something that might well happen ifdragonskept plucking her up to carry.
Even though she’d asked for Wreylith to return, she’d nearly fainted when the dragon had come at her with her talons outstretched. She hoped her plan would work, that Wreylith would agree to carry at least two of them to Harvest Island. She would need Aunt Tibby to help her remove the shielder when they found it and then to install it under the castle back in the capital. And they would need Fel to protect them along the way.
And Vorik? Once they arrived, they needed to find a way to escape Vorik. As helpful as he’d been, Syla couldn’t let him trail her to a shielder. She wouldn’t make the same mistake that her sister had. As horrible as Venia’s death was, it might have been a blessing for her. Better to die than to live with the knowledge thatone had betrayed one’s people and caused the deaths of thousands.
While the salve and the cobbler cooled, Tibby entered the kitchen with a backpack so stuffed the seams bulged out. Hers looked to contain even more books than the one that Syla had packed. Maybe it was a genetic tendency?
