He and Captain Lesva aren’t a match for Wreylith,Vorik said.
Normally, I would agree, but Wreylith carries two females who are not warriors. She will be hindered in a battle if she tries to keep them from falling off.
Vorik frowned, remembering how the red dragon had tossed Syla to the ground the first time.I don’t think shewillworry about keeping them on her back. I’m surprised she’s carrying them at all.
As am I.
Worried at the prospect of Syla being tossed into the sea to drown, Vorik touched Agrevlari’s scales.Speed up, if you can, please. We need to be there to help if they attack Wreylith.
Agrevlari flapped his wings harder, the briny breeze tugging at Vorik’s clothes.From their conversations, I sense… I’m not certain those dragons and riders know that if they attack the princess, we will defend her and that it would be part of a ruse.
No, Lesva knows. She was there for that meeting with General Jhiton.
Of course, Lesva hadn’t heard the seduction plan. She’d been dismissed before that. All she should know was that Jhiton had said no when she’d volunteered to capture Syla and bring her back for interrogation. What if that was her plan now? Maybe she even intended to do that interrogation herself, whether the general wished it or not. Maybe she was acting on her own. Taking… initiative.
Vorik grimaced.Catch up, Agrevlari.
I have been attempting to do so. You may have noticed that Wreylith isn’t old or infirm, despite her mature years.
I did notice.
Vorik also noticed when Syla spotted the threat, her gaze swinging toward the approaching dragons. She glanced back, saying something to her aunt, though it was so windy that Vorik wondered how well they could communicate with spoken words. White-capped waves frothed below. They were about halfway to Harvest Island.
More dragons came into view, also flying toward Wreylith and her riders. As Agrevlari had said, they were all a part of Lesva’s squadron. That meant they would follow their captain’s orders. The rider flying beside Lesva, her first lieutenant, Talvaya, especially would.
Vorik touched his sword, fearing he would have to use the blade today and that it might not be a ruse. He might be fighting for his and Syla’s lives against an ambitious captain on her own self-assigned mission.
He wished he had the power to speak telepathically with Lesva and learn her intentions, but the magic that came from his bond with Agrevlari only allowed him to communicate that way with his dragon—and other dragons in the area who might be using their innate power to listen to his silent words.
Maybe it didn’t matter. As Lesva and her lieutenant arrowed intently toward Wreylith on their mounts, Vorik believed he’d guessed their intentions.
They were going to try to capture Syla to interrogate her. And if she didn’t survive the fight they started… they wouldn’t care in the least.
Flying on a dragon’s back was the most wondrous thing Syla had ever experienced, and she dearly wished the circumstances were different and that she could enjoy the salty breeze tugging at her hair and the amazing view from high above. Ahead, the somewhat lopsided Harvest Island, with its volcano on one end and lush verdant croplands stretching toward the other, was striking from the air. Black cliffs alternated with black-sand beaches interspersed with inlets and coves all along the north side of the island. A hint of green south of the volcano promised untamed forestlands where wild animals browsed. It was all beautiful.
What would it be like to live in Vorik’s world? To get to ride a dragonallthe time? To swiftly be carried about the world on the back of such a magnificent creature, one lesser predators wouldn’t dare bother?
“Where did all those dragons come from?” Aunt Tibby asked from her position behind Syla.
Since Syla had been watching them approach, the question wasn’t a surprise. Though Wreylith hadn’t altered her course or said anything telepathically to them, she had to be aware of the dragons too. Likely, she’d spotted them long before her human riders had.
Of the two in the lead, one was blue and one gray. They were flying hard toward Wreylith with riders on their backs. It lookedlike they wanted to intercept the red dragon before she reached the island.
As powerful as Wreylith was, Syla worried about being outnumbered. She could make out two more dragons in the distance, also heading in her direction.
“It’s almost like they were waiting for us,” Syla said, but how could the stormers have anticipated that she would leave Castle Island and that it would be by air?
Unless… could Vorik have somehow told his people?
Syla looked back, half-expecting to find him and Agrevlari on a leisurely flight, having anticipated the arrival of these dragons. But no. Agrevlari was flapping his wings hard, his tail streaming straight out behind him as he sought to catch up with Wreylith. And on his back, the grim-faced Vorik leaned forward, his gargoyle-bone sword in his hand. They were trying to catch up so they could help if a fight broke out. Syla silently apologized to Vorik for doubting him.
Impudent human-hugging dragons,Wreylith boomed telepathically,why do you fly to intercept me?
Why do you carry two human runts on your back?one replied promptly. The voice seemed to originate with the blue dragon.They are enemies to our kind and to wild dragons as well.
Wreylith digested that for a moment.One is not an enemy to our kind. One has assisted this dragon in a minute but not insignificant manner.
“She’s grateful to you,” Tibby said.
