Tibby lifted her chin and turned her back on him while facing Syla. “I’ve copied and gone over all the scrolls I brought back. Some were in the old Temple Script, so I had to spend hours and hours in the basement of the castle library—thank the moon god that wasn’t completely destroyed in the attack—to translate them. I’d like to consult with your archaeology-studying cousin Teyla on the contents, but I’ve got the gist. I don’t believe it’s possible torepaira sky shielder, not unless you’re a god yourself and canwillmagical parts into existence, especially one that was intentionally sabotaged—no, completelyobliterated—by those stormer animals.” The glare Tibby directed at Syla suggested she had Vorik in mind again, thoughhehadn’t been the one responsible for the destruction. “However, one of the scrolls, one of the most wondrous and detailed and beautifully written scrolls…” Tibby clasped her hand to her chest, adoration gleaming in her eyes. “It lists all the materials necessary to rebuild—or even build from scratch—a divine core.”
“And that’s… a key part?”
“It’s what lies deep within the orb shell and powers a shielder. We may not be able to fix the broken shell itself, but that’s not crucial for its operation. It’s just protection. The divine core is what creates the translucent barrier that extends for dozens of miles to shield an island.”
“The shield.”
Tibby nodded. “The shield.”
“That’s good news, then. Assuming the materials are accessible.”
Tibby issued another grimace. Ah, this was going to be the sticking point.
“According to the scroll and what I’ve found in the texts—” Tibby lifted the heavy tome, its pages yellowed with age, “—there are three key magical components, and theycanbe found in the world, but they are either exceedingly rare or in dangerous places. Or both. A crystalline structure that’s used as the main power source grows once every ten years out of a magical substrate in one of the storm god’s abandoned laboratories.”
Before Syla could ask for details, two men in military uniforms came around a corner in the wide hallway. General Dolok of the Royal Fleet and Colonel Mosworth of the Royal Protectors strode toward them with determination, their gazes locked on Syla. The officers had been in and out of the castle for as long as she could remember, but they’d reported to Mother and Father and rarely interacted with her.
Syla braced herself and glanced at Fel. He’d been the one to suggest she use her healing magic on General Dolok, not only because he’d received grave wounds during the invasion but because her magic had a tendency to, at least for a time, instill within the subject a desire to obey her wishes. That didn’talwayshappen, with effects differing from patient to patient. Some felt nothing but the normal amount of gratitude toward one who healed their pain. Others… Well, she’d had more thanone man—and two or three women—fall madly in love with her. Fortunately, the effects faded within a few weeks to a couple of months at the most. But now… she could use some loyalty from these military men. Too bad the white-haired and mustached general with intense hawk-like eyes hadn’t been noticeably affected.
“Your Highness.” General Dolok saluted her curtly.Hehadn’t suggested he was interested in calling herYour Majesty. “A stormer ship has sailed through the barrier and into the harbor. It carries stormer military officers and riders as well as two of their chiefs. They claim to be hereunder invitationfor diplomatic negotiations.” There went another set of eyebrows climbing a forehead.
Was it strange that Syla was prompting that facial gesture among so many people today?
“I did send a letter to several stormer tribes with known locations.” Nerves assaulted Syla’s belly. She hadn’t expected much, if anything, to come of those letters and certainly not so soon.
Dolok and Mosworth exchanged dear-departed-gods-we’re-in-trouble looks.
“You didn’t think you shouldtellone of us?” Dolok flattened a hand to his chest to indicate she should have told him specifically.
Doubting it would build their confidence in her if she admitted,I didn’t think any of them would actually show up,Syla said, “I should have, yes. That was my mistake. I apologize.”
Dolok harrumphed.
The colonel lifted his blue uniform cap and scraped his fingers through his short gray hair. “Since you invited them, I assume you want us to let them off their ship?”
Dolok shook his head. “That’s a bad idea.”
“Just let the chiefs off—or whoever is here to negotiate. Though I suppose they’ll insist on guards too since they will be entering enemy territory.” Syla hesitated. “Were you able to identify the riders?” Realizing she should be more interested in the tribal leaders, she added, “Or the chiefs and which tribes they’re from?”
Vorik’s face formed in her mind. And his shirtless chest.
She hurried to push the imagery away. He wouldn’t have been sent on a mission like this. For all she knew, he was in trouble. When last she’d seen him, his dragon, Agrevlari, had been attacking the black dragon of his superior officer. That hadn’t been Vorik’s fault—the smitten Agrevlari had been protecting the wild female dragon, Wreylith—but General Jhiton had appeared to be a humorless sort who wouldn’t appreciate insubordination, whether from an officer or an officer’s dragon.
“Tenilor, chief of the Moonhunt Tribe,” Dolok said, “and Shi, chieftess of the Wingborn Tribe.”
“With a whole snarl of stormer troops and four riders in their fingerless gloves and black leathers. Theirdragonsare soaring around above the barrier.” Expression sour, Mosworth pointed toward the ceiling.
“Fortunately, thanks to the hard work and dangerous mission that Princess Syla, Sergeant Fel, and I engaged in,” Aunt Tibby said, “the barrier will keep those dragons out.”
The officers’ dour expressions didn’t change. If anything, they gave her dark why-is-this-civilian-here-and-intruding-upon-our-conversation looks.
Dolok glanced at the moon-mark on the back of Tibby’s hand and didn’t voice such a thought, saying only, “General Jhiton and Captain Vorik are with them.”
The glare that the officers pinned on Syla kept her from smiling, but her heartbeat sped up with exhilaration at thethought of seeing Vorik again. Even if it shouldn’t. He was, she reminded herself firmly, the enemy.
“Why aretheyhere?” Fel snarled.
Mosworth nodded at him, approving of what was theappropriateresponse to the announcement of those names.
