Chapter 19
Vorik yawned, the darkness of night deep around them as Agrevlari flew toward the mountains. On Tonasketal’s back, Wise’s chin was drooped to his chest. He might have been sleeping. Vorik would keep an eye on the urn—the amphora, Syla had called it—wrapped in his arms.
When will we stop to sleep? Agrevlari asked, his wingbeats languid—tired.
I feel like an ass, Vorik said.
Since dragons lack that human anatomical feature, I am uncertain how to interpret your emotion.
I feel like a cloaca, then. One afflicted with vent gleet.
That’s dreadful.
Yes.
A camp of nocturnal fang bats flew up from the trees, disturbed by the dragons’ passing.
Vorik reached for his sword, aware that the creatures were territorial and usually attacked intruders that passed through their area, but they took off instead of confronting Agrevlari and Tonasketal.
Being aligned with a dragon made life easier.
You were victorious in acquiring the component for the shielder, as required by your orders, Agrevlari said. Why do you feel as if your elimination vent is infected with fungi or bacteria?
Vorik didn’t point out that the dragon was taking his simile too literally. Because Syla was right. It wasn’t honorable.
Your lieutenant located the component first, and you rightfully took it.
We only located it because Syla led us to those ruins. I’ve hunted in this area before, and I had no idea they were there. I wonder how she knew.
Her magic was a gift from the gods. The shielders were also gifts from the gods. They may guide her in this endeavor.
If the gods were guiding Syla, that wouldn’t bother Vorik, but the idea that he was working against their wishes would.
Long ago, his people had started calling themselves stormers because they dared live among the storm god’s creations, but few claimed any allegiance to him.
He was the one who’d made the world so difficult for humans to survive in.
Vorik had always felt affinity to the sun god, even if he rarely attended religious ceremonies or prayed on his own.
What if he was, in obeying his brother’s orders, going against the wishes of the deities his people shared with those from the Garden Kingdom?
Not only his brother’s wishes, Vorik told himself. Those lush islands were also what the tribal leaders wanted. No, he amended, reminded of Wise’s words. Some of them wanted more. They wanted to enslave the Kingdom subjects.
That didn’t sit well with him, and he resolved to talk to Jhiton when he got back. Maybe Chief Tenilor too. It had sounded like he’d been a part of that discussion.
Vorik had always considered himself a soldier, defending and feeding his people, and nothing more, but he had a high enough rank that he should have a voice at tribal meetings if he wished it.
Maybe he would have to show up for more of those and argue for a future of honor.
Of course, if his feelings for Syla became widely known, his words might be brushed aside.
He might even be held in suspicion by his leaders.
Vorik looked toward Wise again, wondering what the lieutenant would have said—would have reported—if Vorik had voiced the words that had come to mind when he’d faced Syla in the ruins.
He’d been tempted to ask if there was enough of the powder that they could each take half—if that would be sufficient for two shielders to be made.
But, according to Wise, only one of the final components grew at a time, so it wouldn’t have mattered if they’d shared the other two.
Besides Jhiton didn’t want the Kingdom to be able to replace its broken shielder.
I believe it likely that the gods are guiding the princess, Agrevlari added after a few quiet moments. You recall your battle with Captain Lesva.
And that lightning knocked her off that cliff, yes. In that moment, Vorik had been relieved the decision whether or not to push her off had been taken from him, but the thought that it might not have been chance had occurred to him. And disturbed him.
An act of one of the gods, one would think, Agrevlari said.
Or luck.
That is possible. Agrevlari didn’t sound like he believed it. But if she has been chosen by the gods, we should be wary in our interactions with her.
Yes.
I would not care to be hit by lightning.
Unless you’re a cloud striker, it sounds unpleasant.
Even to a dragon, yes. We are powerful but not impervious, especially to the magic of the gods.
Few are impervious to that.
When the dragons reached the foothills of the Everfrost Mountains, they adjusted their course to follow the two-thousand-mile-long chain to the north.
We can camp when you see a good place. Vorik yawned again. I just wanted to get far away with the amphora in case Syla talked Wreylith into attacking us to retrieve it. We’re only guessing that she might be chosen by the gods; she’s definitely chosen by that dragon.
Oh, to be chosen by one as magnificent as she, Agrevlari said. Do you think I should compose another song? She wasn’t as wooed by my ballad as I’d hoped.
Based on our encounters with her, I have a hunch she’s more likely to be drawn by a dragon who does great deeds or bests many foes in battle rather than one who has a nice singing voice. Vorik didn’t point out that the screeches he’d heard didn’t suggest Agrevlari fell into that latter category.
I do believe you are correct. She was pleased when I drove Ozlemar away from her, but perhaps it was not a sufficient display of my battle prowess to make her swoon with admiration.
I doubt she’s ever swooned. Do dragons know how to swoon?
Sometimes, when we are affected by strong emotions, we dip one wing and fly in a pleased circle. Or we dive and twirl. Agrevlari shared an image of a dragon doing so.
Interesting. I’ve not seen that often.
It is rarely done in the presence of outsiders, but I’ve had a female twirl so for me. And that young dragon with Wreylith gazed with interest at me when we passed.
Did she? I didn’t notice that.
Humans aren’t attentive when it comes to dragon interest.
A proven fact. A hint of daylight was lightening the horizon, and Vorik spotted something flying in the distance above the snow-capped mountains.
Agrevlari picked up his pace, either invigorated by the thought of sleep or of a female twirling for him.
Is that another dragon up there? Vorik asked.
I sense several in the direction we are heading. Scar Peak lies that way. It’s a popular meeting place for dragons desiring to hunt in the desert on the other side of the mountains.
Stormer-allied dragons? Vorik thought of the wing that had been flying up the coast, but they would have reached the Sixteen Talons headquarters by now. Or wild dragons?
Neither.
What other dragons are there? Vorik asked dryly.
Ex-stormer-allied dragons.
A testament to his fatigue, it took Vorik a moment to decipher that.
Like the orange one, Igliana, Agrevlari added.
Dragons linked to stormers who left the tribes to start the Freeborn Faction?
Yes.
I hadn’t realized… Well, I guess I’d heard some of their dragons remained with them, but I thought most came back to our people or went wild because they didn’t approve of an alliance with humans who weren’t actively trying to gain access to the Garden Kingdom.
That is true for many, Agrevlari said, but some dragons have stayed. I believe we may have inadvertently located the hidden faction headquarters that your superiors have wondered about.
Since the Freeborn Faction had nothing to do with his mission, Vorik wasn’t concerned about their headquarters but asked, How many dragons did you sense?
He would report where and how many they’d seen when he returned home.
There are only two outside of the mountain, but… there is magic within Scar Peak that is muffling my ability to detect if there are more dragons in its caves or the old mines.
Mines? The dragon-meeting mountain took on more interest for Vorik. Wise hadn’t said the scroll gave a specific location for finding the teal ore that was the second shielder component, but might this be a spot? Mines with magic?
There is ore within that emanates power.
Would it be teal ore?
I believe it may be. I’ve not visited the mines myself to look for it before.
I’ll consult Wise when he wakes up, but I think Scar Peak may be where we want to head next.
To the Freeborn Faction headquarters?
They’re not camped out on top of the ore, are they?
It appears that they, or at least their dragons, are in the same locale.
Vorik frowned. That could be problematic. The Freeborn Faction not only wouldn’t help him, but they might impede him. On the other hand, they might help Princess Syla.
We may have lost our advantage in this quest, Agrevlari.
Is your infected cloaca disturbed further?
Yes, it is.
Syla slept poorly. Disturbed by having lost the amphora and knowing Vorik was already flying toward the second component, thoughts of failure plagued her.
Throughout the night, she second-guessed her choices.
It didn’t help that the rainforest didn’t settle down, so roars, buzzes, hoots, and slithering sounds invaded her dreams—her nightmares.
During one fit of sleep, she’d dreamed of returning home, only to have the soldiers throw her in the dungeon and send a thousand carnivorous centipedes in to eat her alive. That latter had surely been inspired by the noises outside, but the former… was more prediction than dream.
Now, as dawn approached, exhaustion made her want to curl on her side and sleep.
If only rest weren’t so elusive. She ought to have been so tired after healing Fel and Teyla that she’d collapsed.
They had. Even Fel, who’d promised to stand watch, was snoring in the doorway, his crossbow in his lap.
She didn’t blame him. Being injured and healed was as exhausting as doing the healing.