Chapter 9 #2
Through a bond with such an individual, Wreylith interrupted, my ancestors discovered that a dragon is granted access to the islands protected by sky shields.
That is only true for the specific island that the bonded human is on or flying to, but it was a way for those dragons to hunt in waters and on lands otherwise denied to their kind.
That’s fascinating. I hadn’t heard… I’ve read a lot of our history books and haven’t encountered that.
Your people have short memories and inadequate accountings of the past.
That’s… possible.
Your own Queen Erasbella, for a time, wielded both her gods-gift and the power of a dragon, through such a bond.
That wasn’t that long ago, even for us short-lived humans, Syla said. I’m shocked that I haven’t read about that, especially since Erasbella was my great-great grandmother. I’m a direct descendant.
I’m aware. As is the krendala.
The… That’s the figurine, right? Syla remembered Vorik using that term.
It is. Of course, it is a monumental choice to bond with another being, especially a decidedly lesser being, so it is not to be undertaken lightly.
Even for access to iglets.
Even so. Delicious though they are. I admit to feeling some distaste for the idea of even considering it with one who cannot see without eye tools and who is so feeble as to have no defensive or offensive abilities and barely the ken to stay on a dragon’s back.
“Syla?” Tibby touched her shoulder. “Are you listening?”
“Sorry, I’m being insulted by a dragon.”
Tibby, Teyla, and Fel looked around, as if said dragon might be lurking in a corner or perhaps up among the ceiling rafters.
“Wreylith is in the area.” Syla pointed out toward the harbor and beyond. “She finds me feeble.”
And that was far from the only deficiency in the dragon’s list. Syla touched the frame of her spectacles.
“She came here to tell you that?” Tibby asked.
“There must not be a lot going on in the world of dragons,” Teyla said.
“They’re hunting the prey on Harvest Island to extinction,” Fel grumbled.
There is some truth to that, Wreylith said, somehow hearing the conversation from afar. Or could she experience it through her link with Syla? With so many dragons scouring the forests there now, the hunting has grown poorer.
Maybe that was what had prompted Wreylith to recall a way that only certain dragons were allowed to hunt on the protected islands.
“Did you hear me say that it would behoove us to gather the components promptly, in case the stormers are able to translate the scrolls and decide to do the same?” Tibby asked. “Even if they don’t want a shielder of their own, surely, they will want to keep us from repairing ours.”
“I didn’t hear that, no, but I understand and agree.
” Syla wished that stormer hadn’t gotten the scrolls and fantasized again about sneaking into their headquarters and stealing them back, but they had camps all over the world.
Even if General Dolok had intelligence on the Sixteen Talons’ current headquarters, he wouldn’t give it to her.
“What are the components? And how hard are they to get?”
Tibby and Teyla exchanged long looks.
Before either spoke, Syla knew the answer would be, Not easy.
“The magical moss bulbs grow in the rainforests around the world,” Teyla said, pointing to an item on the list, “but since this requires them in an ancient version of desiccated powder—”
“I thought you said petrified,” Tibby interrupted.
“I’m not sure of that translation. Finding something petrified would be even harder.”
“We know the magical teal ore is in the Everfrost Mountains on Droha though,” Tibby said. “It’s rare and hard to extricate, but it’s findable.”
“I would think so.” Teyla nodded. “But the last… This doesn’t even have a name beyond crystal orb, some magical growth that the storm god created to assist in crafting his creatures.”
“I’ve seen the crystal orb in the broken shielder,” Tibby said. “It’s like a miniature of the outer shell, but it’s at the core of everything, according to the schematic, and both the brains and brawn of the artifact.”
“The only one in the world—that hasn’t already been harvested and put to use, that is—can supposedly be found in what was the storm god’s main laboratory in the Dire Desert of Droha.
Only one at a time grows out of a special substrate that he created, and it takes ten years to form.
Another doesn’t start forming until the last is removed. ”
“So we can only ever make one shielder every ten years?” Syla asked.
“If the crystal orb is there at all after all these centuries. With the gods gone…” Teyla spread her hands.
“Had our ancestors been wise, they would have gone to that laboratory every ten years and stockpiled the orbs.” Tibby pinched her lips in disapproval.
“Well, it doesn’t sound easy to get into.” Teyla waved at a paragraph of text, presumably part of the translation from the scrolls. “Or like a place one would want to wander around in. It was made by a god who hated humans, after all. Or didn’t care that his creations liked to eat our people.”
“True,” Tibby said. “And there was a mention of security defenses for the laboratory.”
“Can you imagine how fun it would be to try to break through security created by a god?” Teyla grimaced. “Even the Dire Desert itself can kill a person easily. We haven’t sent many archaeological teams there over the centuries.”
Syla sat back in her chair. “If we can only get one of those particular components every ten years… we can’t let the stormers reach it first.”
“Agreed, though it does sound like a moon-mark is required to gain entrance to the laboratory,” Tibby said.
“One of our moon-marks gets a person into the storm god’s laboratory?” Syla arched skeptical eyebrows. “That doesn’t make sense.”
“Well, the shielders were made after the storm god was driven away, remember,” Teyla said. “Another god may have added that element to allow one of our relatives access in case they ever needed a replacement component.”
“But the same god didn’t deactivate the security defenses?” Syla asked.
“The gods can only do so much to help us,” Tibby said.
“That’s the truth,” Fel muttered, half-listening as he rotated and massaged one of his stiff hips.
Syla waved at the notes. “It sounds like we need to pack for a quest.”
Fel frowned at her. “We?”
“I will, of course, bring you along, Sergeant Fel, if you’re willing to continue working with me.” Syla smiled at him, certain that hadn’t been his objection.
“You should stay here,” Fel said. “As we’ve discussed before, it’s important to keep you alive, not put you at risk.”
“You don’t think I’d be more at risk here?
” Syla smiled sadly, silently acknowledging that if she left, a new monarch or government system might have been put in place by the time she returned.
Of course, Dolok might already be scheming to do that.
If she didn’t leave, she could end up stuck in a dungeon cell.
Fel opened his mouth, as if to deny that, but he’d been there for the general’s threats.
“You’ll need me to help you navigate the world out there and find these ancient components.” Teyla nodded firmly. “I have some books and ideas on where in the desert that laboratory might be located.”
“You’re talking about a journey of weeks if not months,” Tibby pointed out.
“If a moon-mark weren’t required, I’d suggest you send a team out to look for these things.
Do you even have a ship that would carry you to the mainland, if you choose to go?
The queen’s Swift Darter was destroyed in the invasion. ”
“Maybe Captain Radmarik would transport us again.” Syla had no idea if he remained on Castle Island or how to get in touch with him if he’d returned to Harvest Island or sailed elsewhere to avoid the chaos.
“I heard his last adventure with you was daunting,” Tibby said.
“We survived it.”
“His ship took damage.”
“Yes, but the escorting guard ships were destroyed completely.”
“Something that might not entice him to want to take you on another journey,” Tibby said.
After the discussion Syla had engaged in with the captain, she was less certain.
He was married, in heart if not legally, to a stormer woman who’d left her people and was high up in the Freeborn Faction.
Apparently, she had been the one who’d suggested Radmarik assist Syla.
Too bad Syla had been too concerned about installing and activating the shielder to speak with the captain again after they’d arrived.
She’d arranged payment for him, but he and his whaling ship had disappeared before she could thank him again personally.
“Even if he would,” Tibby added, “you’d be very vulnerable out there unless you could command a lot of cannonball-filled guard ships to escort you.”
Syla noticed that her aunt kept saying you instead of we or us.
It didn’t sound like she intended to go on another adventure with Syla and Fel.
Perhaps understandable. She was resourceful, but it might be a good idea to have an ally back here, keeping an eye on the political situation.
Inasmuch as an engineer would pay attention to that.
“Right now,” Syla said, “I think it would be easier for me to get the help of a dragon anyway.”
Tibby laughed, but Fel looked upward, as if Wreylith might land atop the castle.
“I believe that,” he said.
Tibby looked at him.
“You weren’t there when she waved the red dragon and her allies down to drive off the stormer riders and their dragons,” Fel told her.
“I did hear about it,” Tibby said.
“You also weren’t there when General Dolok threatened to throw her in the dungeon,” he added.
“Was that recently?” Tibby’s gaze shifted to Syla.
“Before dinner.”
“That’s recent.”
“Yes. He blames me for everything that happened with the stormers.”
“And gives her no credit for dealing with them and keeping the working and broken shielder out of their hands,” Fel said.
Syla appreciated that he was supporting her—the moon god knew she needed supporters—but she shrugged. “I lost the scrolls.”
“If you could arrange a dragon to transport a group, that would make collecting components from around the world easier.” Tibby pressed her lips together. “Assuming the dragon could keep from dumping you into the ocean a mile from shore.”
“That was as close as Wreylith could get because of the barrier.” Syla wondered if she should tell her aunt that it would be the same dragon that would help again.
It wasn’t as if Syla knew others to call upon.
She wasn’t even positive Wreylith would do it.
It sounded like she wanted to hunt on the shielded islands, not search for magical engineering components on a continent that she could always access.
Tibby shuddered again. “Regardless, if you had a dragon, you’d have a chance of beating the stormers to the components. Going by ship and walking inland… It could be a journey of months to gather those components. If not years. And the stormers could fly to them within days.”
“They may not go after them,” Syla pointed out.
“Right.” Teyla brightened. “What are the odds that they even have someone who can translate the temple language? Most of their people don’t learn to read.”
“Let’s hope,” Syla said.
“Even if they aren’t involved, gathering the components as quickly as possible would be ideal,” Tibby said. “Harvest Island can’t withstand years peeled open to the elements—and predators.”
“I agree,” Syla said.
“With the assistance of a dragon… Can you get it?”
“I’ll try, though she may only be able to carry two, if she’s willing at all.” Syla looked at Teyla and admitted that having an archeologist along could be helpful, but, if she had to choose, she needed her bodyguard.
“Darn,” Tibby said, clearly not desiring to ride on a dragon’s back again.
Was it crazy that Syla did? Even the back of a dragon who had insulted her and described all the ways she was puny and inferior?
“We can go together. I’ll defend you.” Teyla rose from the table and made fencing motions over her empty plate.
“She needs a bodyguard,” Fel said, “not a historian with delusions of combat experience.”
Syla feared that not even her bodyguard would be sufficient to deal with whatever security the storm god had set up to protect his laboratory from intruders. Again, she wished Vorik were an ally she could call upon.
“Actually,” Tibby said, raising a finger, “if Syla has a dragon to protect her, someone with archaeological and especially cartographical experience may be an ideal companion.”
“These two girls aren’t going off into the world alone. And a dragon isn’t a proper bodyguard.” Fel looked appalled at the notion.
“A dragon could eat a proper bodyguard.” The way Tibby smiled at him suggested she might like to see that.
Fel glared at her.
“I don’t think Wreylith would be quite as reliable as Fel in keeping me alive,” Syla admitted, remembering how the red dragon had tossed her to the ground near the lighthouse.
It would have been to her death via a broken neck if Vorik hadn’t run over to catch her.
“Wreylith doesn’t quite understand human frailty. Especially my frailty.”
Fel folded his arms over his chest in an I-told-you-so stance.
“Let me see if she’s even willing to do this,” Syla said. “I may be making assumptions.”