Vorik drew his gargoyle-blade sword from his scabbard.
I sense Wreylith, Agrevlari spoke into Vorik’s mind from beyond the Castle Island barrier.I believe she has been hunting on the Island of Eliok, but she is flying in this direction.
Vorik slid his sword into the gap between the trapdoor and its frame, the magical gargoyle blade as slender and fine as any crafted from steel.Have you lured her with poetry? Or perhaps your masculine magnificence?
I do hope that latter is having an effect, and she’s realized what a loyal, wonderful, and devoted mate I could be. I have not attempted to recite poetry to her, but I’ve little skill with languages.Youhave written ballads about dragons. Perhaps you could help me compose something.
We can try later, but she’d probably be more touched by something that came from you.
She is coming directly this way. Perhaps my allureisdrawing her.
Vorik doubted that. Thus far, the red dragon hadn’t been interested in Agrevlari’s attempts to woo her. Was it possible that Syla had once again called Wreylith? And the dragon wascoming? As long as the shield was up, Wreylith wouldn’t be a threat to whatever Jhiton was doing under the castle, but if the general succeeded indroppingthe shield…
Well, his black dragon as well as those of the other riders who’d come along were out there. As strong a fighter as Wreylith was, she wouldn’t be a match for so many. Unless she’d brought allies again. And unless Agrevlari defended her against hisownallies again.
Vorik growled at the situation, fearing his people had underestimated Syla. Worse, the trapdoor didn’t budge as he tried to find a way through it with his sword. Frustrated, he jammed it all around the frame, trying to find and break a lock or the hinges.
Something snapped under his strength and the power of his sword, but its defensive magic flashed like lightning, and a startling shock blasted up his blade. It struck him, knocking him back, and he hit his head on the low wooden stage above. He managed to twist and land in a crouch instead of flat on his back, but he felt chagrined that such a minor defense was thwarting him. He was a dragon rider, damn it. Strong, powerful, and with magic gifted to him through his bond with the even stronger and more powerful Agrevlari.
What rhymes with love?his dragon asked.
Vorik grabbed his sword and patted around the trapdoor, aware of shouts in the castle, maybe in the theater. Did the guards know about this access point to the tunnels? Syla had ordered troops into the underground passageways before, so the entrances couldn’t be that secret.
Ah, he’d broken one of the hinges. Risking more magical ire from the trapdoor, Vorik jammed his sword into a second one.
Vorik?Agrevlari prompted.
Yes, I’m still here.The second hinge snapped without putting up a fuss. Maybe Vorik had broken the magical defense.
Love?
I’m a little busy right now.Vorik hefted the heavy stone trapdoor and moved it aside, then ran down dark stairs.Glove, he offered.
Syla and Fel hadn’t lit any of the lanterns mounted along the way, but that suited Vorik. He could see in all but pitch darkness, and even then, he navigated decently, thanks to his magical senses.
Really, Vorik. As you might imagine, gloves are of little interest to dragons.
There aren’t that many words that rhyme with love.Vorik reached the bottom and heard voices down the tunnel he entered. And in the distance, alotmore voices sounded. Stormers? Castle troops? Both?
Fel and Syla were already out of sight. Vorik hurried forward, senses outstretched so that he wouldn’t run obliviously into someone else skulking around without a light.
Dove,Vorik offered as he ran.
I did consider that, but those birds are so tiny as to be insignificant to a dragon. Too small to make even a bite-sized snack. You’d need a whole flock to comprise an appetizer.
Most poems about love don’t involveeatingdoves.Vorik passed an intersection lit with a lantern and sensed that he wasn’t alone. Syla? No, there was someone else nearby. Someone quiet and deadly and dangerous. One of his people? A more talented Royal Protector than he’d run into so far?
Those are poems written by humans for humans,Agrevlari said.
Try shove. Or above. Do you know where Jhiton is? Or Temur or Frandal?Vorik added, naming the other riders who’dcome along on the dragon ship, though it was possible the stormers who’d sneaked into the tunnels to set explosives and try to reach the shielder had arrived in another vessel or swum in unnoticed from beyond the barrier.
I may be able to work with above. You would have to speak with Ozlemar about your brother’s location.
You can’t check with him?Vorik passed quickly through the lantern light at the intersection, not wanting whoever lurked nearby to spot him.I don’t have any way to reach out telepathically.
Ozlemar is currently irked with me. The approach of Wreylith will remind him of that.
Moving slowly since he heard troops in the tunnel now, in addition to the other threat he’d sensed, Vorik turned toward the shielder chamber. His toe brushed against rubble on the floor. A lot of rubble. He caught the scent of spent black powder in the air. The gardeners may have sealed this tunnel, but his people had blown it open.
