I don’t have a report.Vorik grimaced, not wanting to explain that he’d not only lost track of Syla, at least as of a half hour ago, but that he hadn’t gathered any information on the location of the shielder on this island—or any other island.
Perhaps you should compose something. General Jhiton will wish an update.
It’s hard to compose reports while you’re dangling from your fingers on a vertical rock face.
Having talons, which are far superior to fingers, I’ve not experienced such a difficulty.
It must be wonderful to be a dragon.
It’s exquisite. Since I’m not actively fleeing hunters or dangling precariously, I can, if you wish, compose your report for you.
Aware that he would have company soon, Vorik picked up his pace, angling toward a black-sand beach in a tiny sheltered cove instead of the top of the cliff. Later, he would find a spot to climb up and start tracking Syla. Ideally, after the enforcers gave up on their search for him.
Would your report include details of my near-mating?
Naturally. Seduction is a part of your mission, is it not?
Well, gaining the trust of the princess and learning information from her.
Likely through seduction,Agrevlari said.
That’s optional.
Your tongue was in her sex orifice.
Blazing sun god, don’t give a report that talks about that.If Vorikhadn’t been busy climbing with both hands he would have smacked himself in the forehead. Who knew a dragon could see such detail from so far away? Maybe their bond was a littletoostrong.Look, I’ll think up something to tell the lieutenant to pass along to my brother, all right? Just… stop trying to help.
Very well. I will merely wait here in the rain and speak with Tonasketal. He has joined me on this perch. Perhaps we shall fish.
It’s good to have company.
Yes. He is also an admirer of Wreylith. We may discuss her.
Not her sex orifices, I hope.
Only her magnificence in battle and her beauty as she dips and weaves in a brilliant blue sky with the sun gleaming off her rich red scales.
That sounds nice.
Indeed. I will keep considerations of her sex orifices to myself.
“I don’t know if it’s perfectly logical that such a strange dragon chose to bond with me or if it speaks to my oddity as a rider,” Vorik muttered.
A seagull perched on a ledge squawked down at him. No, it was looking out toward the sea. Vorik followed its gaze and picked out a lean rider, with prematurely white hair, navigating through the waves in a kayak. Young Lieutenant Wise.
He’d almost died his first year as a rider. His dragon had perished in battle, and he’d dropped from a great height to a tiny, rocky island and broken both his legs. He’d lived on nothing but seaweed, oysters, and other beach detritus he could gather while waiting for his bones to heal. He’d used driftwood to drive away wyverns, cloud strikers, and other aerial predators who’d tried to turn him into dinner. Eventually, his squadron had found him and taken him home to a healer, but he’d lost all his hair during the stressful time. It had grown back white, making him appear prematurely sage. He was still a young goof, but the squadron had given him the nickname Wise anyway, and it had stuck.
Vorik reached the beach at the same time as the lieutenant, one of the most unlikely spies he could imagine. A white-haired twenty-five-year-old didn’t fit in among the gardenersorthe tribes. Maybe he’d intended to wear a hat as he skulked about.
Wise waved cheerfully after pulling his kayak onto the beach. “Hullo, Captain Vorik. It’s good to see you.”
“You too.”
Before speaking further, they climbed the beach and found a sheltered overhang. As soaked as Vorik was, it probably didn’t matter if they stood in the rain, but it felt good to be out of it for a time.
Wise scraped dampness out of his short white locks and sat on a rock. “I wasn’t certain if we’d find you alive until my dragon sensed yours. We got a garbled report from Corporal Taskan that Captain Lesva was lost at sea and her lieutenant killed. Lesva had been ordered to patrol the sea between Castle and Harvest Islands and attack any ships that might be sent, especially with a shielder, from one to the other.”
“Patrol. Right.” Vorik didn’t exactly feelbetrayedby Lesva, but it irritated him that she’d presumed to attack Syla after being orderednotto capture her.
