“I wouldn’t assume that from those words.”
The princess of the kingdom is desired by General Jhiton, asignificantally to dragons.
Only to dragons who fawn at the boots of humans.Wreylith managed to flick a dismissive wingtip without missing a beat.He is not significant to wild dragons.
Syla peered toward the cliffs along the northern coast. Theywere getting closer, but would they reach the invisible shield around Harvest Island before the dragons reachedthem?
All dragons will appreciate being able to hunt and fish on the teeming shores of these islands,the blue dragon said,once the shielders have all been destroyed.
Even though Syla had suspected that was the stormers’ plan, she found the naked statement chilling. Even more chilling was that they had dragons on board with their plan. Not only that, but those dragons were trying to woo Wreylith to their side. And Wreylith, though she was helping now, had no reason to love humans. Might she not be tempted byteemingshores?
Give us the one you carry,the blue dragon continued when Wreylith didn’t respond,and we will not harm you.
Harm me? You spineless dragons haven’t the ability to harm me.
The jaws of the blue parted, and it spewed fire. The gray flapping its wings beside it did the same, their gouts of flame mingling to form a cloud that they flew through, impervious. The fire didn’t seem to touch their riders. The enemy dragons had drawn close enough now that Syla could see those riders, both female, both wearing the same black riding leathers and gloves that Vorik wore.
One woman pointed at her. Was she the leader?
“They’re out for you,” Tibby said. “They seem indifferent to me.”
“You’re lucky then.”
“If I werelucky, I wouldn’t be riding immediately behind you.”
“We’re not far.” Syla nodded toward the black cliffs growing more distinct along the shoreline ahead. This wasn’t the spot she’d thought they should angle for, with protected shallows that would make for an easier swim, but with Wreylith adjusting her flightpath to maneuver away from the oncoming dragons, Syla wouldn’t attempt to direct her. She didn’t want to risk Wreylith deciding that her passengers were too much work—or too annoying—andshould be given to the other dragons. “I’m not sure exactly how far out the shield extends here, are you?”
“I only know that it’s not a precise distance. In some places, it’s a mile or more. In others, the dragons can get within a quarter mile of shore.Theycan sense it. I’ve seen them flying along its borders.”
Syla nodded. She had too. In the past, on one of the handful of trips she’d taken to other islands, she’d sensed the magic, rippling like a curtain, when her ship had passed through. The shields only kept dragons, wyverns, and other powerful predators away. Humans were always welcome, no matter who they were aligned with.
Last chance,the blue dragon said, close enough now that its yellow slitted eyes were visible.
They didn’t glow the way Wreylith’s did, but Syla didn’t presume the dragon wasn’t powerful. Very powerful. And there were two of them. With two more on the way.
You are the one interfering withmyflight, Wreylith replied.It is not my last chance butyours. My ire is roused.
Flames spewed from her open maw, brilliant and intense. Syla lowered on her back, afraid the wind would send the fire in her direction.
The other dragons weren’t deterred. Maws open and fangs on display, they flew straight toward Wreylith’s flank.
Hold on, humans,Wreylith warned.I will attempt to get you close to the barrier, and then you will have to depart, but I believe you would find it difficult to swim to shore from here.
“That’s an understatement,” Tibby muttered. “Is that a shark fin down there?”
They were too far above for Syla to make out such things, and she only said, “A rock formation, I think.”
“Ah, that’ll be pleasant to fall on then.”
After Wreylith’s advice, Syla tightened the straps of her packaround her shoulders and sank lower, but she didn’t know what they could hold onto. It wasn’t as if there was a harness or reins, and the scales were slick, not rough, with only the faintest of grooves in between each. All she could do was attempt to hug herself to the dragon’s back.
“Is there anything we can do to help?” she asked, though she had no weapons.
Many riders shoot arrows or wield swords if the fighting draws near enough.
“I, uhm, don’t have either. Only some suture needles in my pack. They’re more effective in the aftermath of battles.” Feeling useless, Syla glanced over her shoulder, but it wasn’t as if her aunt would whip out a rapier.
“I have books,” Tibby said, but she was busy hugging the dragon, her cheek pressed to the scales, and her eyes squinted shut.
