Chapter 16 #3
Fel and Teyla lurched, and Teyla almost lost her pack. Before Syla could ask what had happened, Igliana contorted, twisting in the air so that she could fly upward and breathe flames onto the river. The water rippled, and shadows stirred under the surface as something retreated.
I warned you, Wreylith said blandly, continuing to fly upstream, keeping at least a few feet between her and the surface.
Igliana huffed and flew after her, perhaps reapplying the magical straps for her riders, because Fel and Teyla settled back, their faces less alarmed.
Glad for Wreylith’s assistance, Syla didn’t allow herself to feel wishful, even if the power she had to continually use to stay on was taxing her and making her wonder what would happen if she fell asleep while riding the dragon.
She imagined splashing into the middle of the river and being devoured by whatever type of fish or shark had thought Igliana a tasty treat on which to nibble.
As they flew farther upriver, numerous aerial creatures departed from the branches, either to hunt or due to their alarm at dragons passing nearby.
Syla peered as far into the trees as she could on either side, but she couldn’t see anything to suggest humans had ever lived in the area.
With the floods, it seemed impossible, though they did spot a few high banks where the water didn’t flow inland.
Still, the trees were as dense as anywhere else and kept them from seeing far.
“I don’t suppose you have any maps that mark old civilizations?” Syla waved toward her cousin’s pack.
“Yes, but the one I was consulting earlier is very old. This area hasn’t been explored much by our people since the storm god’s work changed everything.”
The stormers hunt in these areas, Igliana said. They may know where the ruins you seek lie.
“Uhm.” Syla hadn’t entirely forgotten that she was a stormer-allied dragon, but it had slipped her mind, and she hoped she hadn’t spoken openly about anything that she didn’t want to get back to her enemies. “We’re competing with them in this.”
As it was, she hoped Vorik and his colleague—had that other rider been their equivalent of an archaeologist or other research specialist?—didn’t know that people had once cultivated the moss bulbs.
You do not believe they would give you information? Wreylith asked. The rider who knelt before you and stimulated your sex orifice must feel compelled to please you.
Teyla and Fel both looked over, and Syla’s cheeks turned molten.
“He’s not— He didn’t. I mean, humans don’t talk about such things.” Flustered, Syla took her spectacles off and wiped her sleeve over her face. The humidity was making her sweat. The moltenness of her cheeks didn’t help.
“If you were wondering,” Teyla said, “we could kind of guess what was going on.”
“I was choosing not to guess.” Fel shook his head and looked toward the trees. Hell, were his cheeks red? Maybe there were things about his princess that he preferred not to know. After all, Syla was young enough to be his daughter.
“There were noises,” Teyla added.
Syla groaned and dropped her face against Wreylith’s scales. She wondered if Vorik’s dragon embarrassed him in front of other people.
Because he is compelled to please you, Wreylith said, unperturbed by the discussion, he may answer your questions related to your quest.
“I can’t ask him without possibly giving him clues.
When it comes to the moss bulbs, they’re not only rare, but it’ll be hard to find preserved samples that have survived in this climate.
And the other shielder components are just as rare.
Or more so. The last one on the list requires us to enter one of the storm god’s laboratories and use a moon-mark to access it.
We can’t share clues with the stormers.”
“There’s a promising bank.” Teyla pointed. “It looks like it’s above water year around, and I don’t see any vipers hanging from the branches.” A shudder suggested she might have spotted a couple of those already.
Since Syla wore an older and weaker pair of spectacles than she needed, she might have mistaken snakes for vines. She didn’t know whether to lament that she hadn’t had an opportunity to visit her optometrist or be glad.
“Did you see anything to suggest humans might have had a civilization inland there?” Syla asked, following her cousin’s pointing finger with her gaze.
The back of her hand warmed slightly, drawing her attention. Huh. Her moon-mark was glowing a faint silver.
“I suppose that’s possible,” Teyla said, “but I meant… Well, I meant promising for, er, I was just telling Igliana that I need to pee.”
“Oh.”
I will attempt to perch there so that you can get off. Igliana angled for the bank. It is tight though. The growth is too dense here for dragons to penetrate easily. You may have to seek the civilization while we wait elsewhere.
Or hunt. Wreylith looked at large birds taking flight farther upstream. The journey has made me hungry.
I am very hungry. I have carried two. Igliana landed on a clump of roots sticking out of a vertical bank, her back almost even with the top.
As Syla watched Fel and Teyla clamber off her and onto land, a roar sounding not far in the distance, she worried about something new—surviving in this dangerous place without the dragons nearby.
It hadn’t occurred to her that their allies wouldn’t be able to stay close.
Syla was glad Igliana had come along so they’d been able to bring Fel.
Wreylith flew back and forth, pacing in the air while she waited, and Syla was about to say that she also needed to relieve herself, and mention that her moon-mark liked this area, but Wreylith glanced upward and said, They approach.
“Who?” Syla asked.
Then two dragons flew into view, one green and one gray. From their backs, Vorik and his man peered down toward the river. No, Vorik was peering straight toward Syla. He waved cheerfully at her.
Syla glowered up at him and considered making a rude gesture with her hand. Wreylith roared at them. Agrevlari sped up, flying fast to escape her ire.
Too bad Syla couldn’t shoot magical beams of power out of her moon-mark to light enemies on fire. Or at least toast parts of their anatomy. Alas, her moon-mark wasn’t even glowing anymore. Maybe that had been a fluke or her eyes playing tricks on her.
“Syla?” Teyla called. “We’ve found something.”
Syla waved and held a finger to her lips, tilting her head toward the other dragons. A normal human would have been out of earshot, but Vorik’s ears were much keener than typical. And who knew what those dragons could hear?
Teyla, standing ten yards inland and looking up at a tree, didn’t seem to notice, but she didn’t call out anything else. She only pointed upward. Was that a cylindrical green moss bulb growing high up on the bark?
Syla touched Wreylith’s scales. “Will you land, too, please?”
As she’d told the others, the still-living specimens wouldn’t do, but if they grew in the area, that was promising.
Agrevlari says there are indeed ruins from human settlements up and down this waterway. Wreylith turned toward the bank.
“You asked him?” Syla groaned. “I told you we’re competing with them, not working with them.”
Should they acquire that which you seek before us, I will take it from them.
“Earlier, you didn’t want to fight them.”
Earlier, I did not have a compelling reason.
Reason or not, Syla didn’t think such a battle would go well for them. “Let’s just find the component before they do.”