Chapter 24 #2
I admit I haven’t minded riding over here. The grin he directed at Agrevlari might have been lecherous, not that the dragon would recognize it as so.
To be so close to the magnificent Wreylith would be appealing. Agrevlari sighed into his mind and turned his gaze toward her head.
Yes, your dragon is the one I’m enjoying being in contact with.
Wreylith was flying straight and not looking back at them.
More often, she glanced over at the young orange dragon as they partook in some conversation or another.
They seemed to know where they were going, which surprised Vorik, since Wise hadn’t mentioned figuring out more than that the storm god’s laboratory was in the Dire Desert.
On the orange dragon’s back, Sergeant Fel was alternately eyeing the cactus fields below and the route ahead, red-rock formations rising in the distance.
Surprisingly, he hadn’t glared over at Vorik that often.
The woman riding behind him, Syla’s cousin, Teyla, was perusing an atlas while she rode, one hand gripping Fel for support and one attempting to keep the pages from flapping wildly in the wind.
Maybe she was the one directing the dragons?
“Are you awake, Syla?” Teyla called over.
Behind Vorik, Syla stirred, affixing her spectacles above her nose. “Off and on.”
“I’ve been chatting with our delightful dragons.”
“Wreylith has been delightful?” Syla asked.
“I’ve mostly been chatting with Igliana.
Apparently, the Freeborn Faction spent a lot of time in the desert last winter, and she’s hunted all throughout this area.
She’s seen a rock formation in a canyon that has runes on it and thinks there might be a spot where someone with a moon-mark could touch it. ”
“Is that where we’re going now?” Syla rested a hand on Vorik’s shoulder and peered past him.
“Igliana hasn’t heard anything about laboratories of the gods, but it seems like a good place to start the search.”
I am aware of the area, Wreylith spoke into their minds. I have been all over the world and seen many things.
Vorik remembered Agrevlari suggesting that the red dragon was specifically not old but mature, having lived through many centuries.
Long ago, Wreylith continued, the desert all around those rock formations ahead was known as the storm god’s playground. To this day, some of his magic affects the nearby flora and fauna.
“That sounds promising,” Syla murmured.
Since her hand remained pleasantly on his shoulder, Vorik rested his own on it. For encouragement.
She shifted her grip to link her fingers with his.
“I forgot to thank you for wanting to rescue me from my captors,” Vorik said.
“You did that with your lips.”
“Not as thoroughly as I would have liked.”
“I’d be open to more thoroughness later.”
“Before or after you seduce me?” Vorik asked.
“During might be the logical time for lip play.”
“True. But I had hoped…” He looked over his shoulder at her. “I would enjoy being with you when it’s not part of our mission and neither of us is angling for something.”
Syla smiled sadly and brushed the side of his neck with her fingers. “I would enjoy that too.”
“Yes. I’d ensure you would.”
“I’d call you cocky, but my experience thus far indicates…”
“Accuracy in my statement?”
Syla bit her lip, and were her cheeks a little pink? “Yeah.”
Her gaze lowered to his mouth, and she leaned forward, as if drawn to kiss him. Anticipation thrummed through Vorik, but Wreylith tilted and flew sharply lower to the ground.
You’ll note magical flora below, the dragon stated, inadvertently—or maybe advertently—stopping anything that might lead to fornication on her back.
They flew over a clump of spiky pink cactus with giant purple pods on the tips.
From their height and distance, Vorik couldn’t tell if they were magical, but they were like nothing else he’d seen in the desert and had an alien aspect to them.
An animal that looked like a cross between an antelope and a wyvern ran off as the dragons flew overhead.
He’d also never seen a creature like that before.
Few people or animals—or even dragons—are drawn to the storm god’s playground, Wreylith continued. The prey is stringy, tough, clawed, venom-possessing, and sometimes has a strange taint to its flesh that makes it unappealing.
My parents always told me not to fly far into the rock formations, Igliana said. There are no rivers and few oases where dragons might quench their thirst.
Then how did you gain knowledge of the formation to which you lead us?
I didn’t always obey my parents.
You can imagine how surprised I am.
I’m sure you disobeyed your elders once or twice, Auntie Wrey.
“Auntie?” Vorik asked.
“Apparently, they’re related,” Syla said, “though more distantly than that term would imply.”
“Huh.”
With Igliana leading the way, the dragons angled toward one of the red-rock formations, a fat pillar with a wide, flat platter at the top.
Beyond it, the ground sloped down into a deep box canyon, with nearly vertical rock walls on three sides.
A carpet of flowering bush-shaped cactuses stretched across the floor, save for a few animal paths that meandered through them.
Maybe the dragons were wrong, and there was an oasis somewhere back there.
Something had to provide water to the animals they’d seen.
Agrevlari’s head lifted, and he turned enough to look back the way they’d come.
Vorik didn’t think much of it until he spoke a few minutes later. Numerous Sixteen Talons dragons and riders are passing through the mountains. I heard from Zandelek.
That was one of his wing mates who had a long telepathic range and could sense other dragons from farther off than typical, even for their powerful kind.
“Why are they passing through the mountains?” Vorik asked, then repeated the question telepathically, realizing Agrevlari was far enough away that he might not hear.
Syla stirred, looking curiously at Vorik. Had Agrevlari not sent the information to all of them?
I thought most of our warriors were heading to Harvest Island to help capture it, Vorik added silently to the dragon.
I believe many went across the sea to join Captain Lesva, but these are traveling to Scar Peak to rescue you.
“Oh.” Vorik slumped and rubbed his face.
He hadn’t considered that Wise returning with Atilya’s message about a prisoner exchange would prompt his people to respond with force.
He’d assumed that Agrevlari would relay to Wise’s dragon that Vorik had let himself be captured, but maybe he should have composed more of a message to send along.
Not that relaying messages through dragons always worked well.
They often only heard and remembered what mattered to them.
General Jhiton and Ozlemar are with them, Agrevlari said. Tonasketal is leading them to the previously unknown Freeborn Faction hideout.
The canyon on Scar Peak.
Yes.
Can you reach them telepathically from here? Vorik asked. And tell them that I’m all right and that they don’t need to… What are they planning to do?
Annihilate the faction for their betrayals but mostly for presuming to capture you.
“Storm-cursed hells,” Vorik couldn’t keep from saying allowed.
“What’s going on?” Syla asked. “Who’s passing through the mountains?”
Vorik debated whether to answer her or not. He shouldn’t have spoken aloud if he’d wanted this to be a secret.
After deciding she couldn’t do anything from here—it wasn’t as if Wreylith would turn around to help what she would consider inferior stormer-allied dragons—Vorik said, “My people got the message that I’m a prisoner and are flying to rescue me.”
“That’s… proper of them.” Her tone suggested she didn’t like the news. Probably because she hoped to turn the Freeborn Faction into allies.
“I guess I’m chuffed to know my brother cares,” Vorik said.
“He probably wants an excuse to destroy people who dared leave your tribes.”
“He hasn’t acted against them in the past, except to punish spies we caught.
” It didn’t bother Vorik that Syla hated Jhiton—given that he’d spearheaded the attack on her people, how not?
—but it was a sad reminder of how much stood between them.
His fantasy that she leave her people and join his…
was probably only that. A fantasy. Even if assassins drove her out of the Garden Kingdom, she wouldn’t go voluntarily into the stormers’ arms. And he didn’t want to wish assassins on her.
He wanted to protect her from anyone who would try to kill her.
“I hope the faction was smart enough to pack up their camp and leave when they realized you’d escaped,” Syla said. “They should have been making plans to do that as soon as they sent your lieutenant away with his message. They had to have known he could direct your people back to them.”
“Yes.” Vorik didn’t know if Atilya would have expected such swift retaliation when his people were embroiled in their quest to take over the Kingdom islands, but agreeing with Syla’s logic might set her mind at ease.
And it might well be correct. He would hate for her to believe her choices had had anything to do with the killing of faction people.
I must go back and warn them, Igliana said to everyone. And fight beside my parents if there’s a battle.
Wreylith, who was stretching out her wings and talons, about to land in the mouth of the box canyon, let out a fiery breath of irritation.
I must! Igliana said.
Vorik suspected he was only hearing half of their conversation. Still flying, Igliana started to bank around the rock pillar so she could return to the mountains. Fel and Teyla remained on her back.
“Uhm.” Syla raised a finger.
Wreylith roared at Igliana.
At first, the orange dragon looked too determined to pay attention, but she hurried to fly to the canyon floor. She landed, and Fel and Teyla slid off her back. As soon as their feet hit the ground, puffs of pale desert dust wafting up under their boots, the dragon took off again.
“Come back after you warn them, please!” Syla called after Igliana.
Flying with urgency, the orange dragon didn’t respond or even glance back.
Syla looked bleakly around, her gaze settling on Agrevlari.
Her lips pinched together in disapproval.
Not so much at the green dragon, Vorik was sure, but at the realization that it would be harder for her to seduce him while her bodyguard gathered the components.
They wouldn’t be able to escape Vorik with only one dragon on their side.
One dragon who could carry only two riders.
If Igliana didn’t return, one of Syla’s people would have to fly back with Vorik on Agrevlari. Or she would.
If he hadn’t cared about her feelings, Vorik might have been glad that things were working out in his favor, but he felt more glum than triumphant.
Whether he lost or was victorious in their competition for the shielder components, he couldn’t help but feel he would lose in the grand scheme of things.