Chapter 8 #2
His first assessment of Syla had been that she wouldn’t be the type to leap into a fray—for a healer, that made sense—but she also wasn’t one to quail in shock and fear at the first sign of a threat.
There was a determined sturdiness to her, despite the lack of lean athleticism he was used to in stormer women, and he found the juxtaposition intriguing.
“We didn’t see you stopping it,” Fel stated.
Since they’d spotted him on Agrevlari’s back and possibly helping destroy munitions, Vorik couldn’t deny that. He wished he’d known that his brother would come up with this scheme before the riders had descended upon the capital. He could have been less brazen about showing himself.
“No. It’s complicated. At this point, I still have General Jhiton’s trust. In order to ensure he stays in the dark, I’ve hidden my allegiance to the faction from all but a few of its key leaders.
Currently, the general is likely to share intelligence with me, which I then share with the faction leaders.
Unfortunately, I didn’t learn of the attack on your people until it was too late to warn you.
Even if I had known… the faction is small.
There is little we can do against the Storm Guard and the riders.
What I’m doing now…” Vorik waved to himself and then back the way they’d come, toward the chamber and the men he’d left behind.
“I risk Jhiton finding out about my divided loyalties. If I can, in secret, help protect you, that would be ideal.”
“Do you need to protect me because your people are planning more attacks?” Syla scrutinized him through her spectacles. “On my people? And me specifically?”
Those lenses, Vorik was certain, did nothing to indicate a lack of mental acuity.
He would have to be careful not to inadvertently give away intelligence, at least not related to anything important.
Even through the spectacles, Syla’s eyes, with dark-gray depths that reminded him of storm clouds at sea, had a captivating intentness that made him want to answer her questions.
Was it because there was magic about her?
His own power allowed him to sense it radiating from her.
He also caught himself wanting to see her eyes—see her—without the spectacles.
The frames were large enough that they almost kept him from noticing the curve of her cheeks, the gentle outline of a cute nose, and the fullness of her lips. They were quite kissable lips.
“Captain?” Syla prompted.
“There will be more attacks.” Vorik realized he’d been staring openly at her—and her lips.
“Are your people going after all of the shielders?”
“The leaders of the tribes want more than Castle Island.”
“They can’t know where the other shielders are,” Fel said.
“I’m uncertain what General Jhiton and the other high-ranking officers know, but in the last meeting I attended with him, he was confident that his plan would result in the stormers gaining access to all of the islands.
” An image of an apple floated into Vorik’s mind, dew droplets beading on its perfect red skin, and his empty stomach grumbled as he imagined flying over Orchard Island and harvesting the fruit.
He shook his head. His brother was right. It was foolish to allow such little things to motivate him. They were fighting for the future of their people, not only the quick satisfaction of their tastebuds.
“Have you heard anything about attacks elsewhere, Fel?” Syla asked.
He shook his head. “Not yet, but the stormers can’t know where all the shielders are.”
“How did they find out about this one?” Syla looked at Vorik.
Hadn’t she guessed? Maybe she knew and was testing him to see if he told the truth.
“Princess Venia.” Vorik tilted a thumb back toward the hidden chamber. “I wasn’t included during the planning of that, but I believe Lieutenant Mavus has—had been—meeting with her in secret for months, and their trysts were always down in these tunnels.”
Vorik more than believed that. He knew it.
He’d heard a lot more details about that scheme than he would admit.
It had been General Amalia who’d come up with it, not Jhiton, but Vorik had been at some of those planning meetings.
It was because of the intelligence Mavus had gathered from the princess and seen himself during his visits that Vorik had learned about these tunnels and known where to find Syla when she’d disappeared.
“Venia wouldn’t have betrayed our people.” The princess didn’t sound that confident in her assertion, and Vorik believed he’d guessed right, that she’d already figured it out by the grisly scene in the chamber.
He regretted that she’d had to see that. It also didn’t sit well with him that Mavus had killed the woman he’d been seducing for months. Maybe she’d realized what he was up to and had confronted him and tried to kill him first. Either way, Vorik hoped the kill hadn’t been done in cold blood.
“I do not know the details,” Vorik said again, aware of the suspicion in Syla’s eyes as she waited for him to respond. “Only that they were having sex, and she came readily to him each time.”
That was true, but, from what he’d heard, Mavus—and General Amalia—had been frustrated that he couldn’t tease any secrets out of the princess.
Specifically, the location of the shielder and how to gain access to it, the one thing the stormers had been trying to learn for years, if not decades.
It had sounded like, in the end, Mavus had used a drug to make her speak truths she would not have otherwise shared.
“Did he pretend to be a member of a peaceful rebel faction?” Syla asked.
Vorik laughed to cover his alarm that she saw so easily through him to the truth. “Perhaps he did.”
“Venia is not—wasn’t—” Again, Syla winced with emotional pain, “—a dummy.”
Seeing a woman in such distress made Vorik want to gather her in his arms and comfort her, not continue to deceive her, but the princess would not appreciate that.
And Fel, who still gripped his mace while sending glowers at Vorik’s skull, had made his position on touching her clear.
Vorik looked at the moon-shaped mark on Syla’s hand, reminding himself that it made her an enemy, that his ancestors might have long ago left the kingdom of their own accord but that it had been her ancestors who’d forbidden them from coming back.
“I’m not a dummy either.” Syla pointed down one of the tunnels.
“You will go that way until you reach a dead-end wall that you may push on to gain access to an underground lagoon that will take you out to sea. There, you can find your dragon and leave Castle Island. I don’t need you or any of your people to protect me. ”
Vorik almost pointed out again that she did need a protector, but her voice lowered to a whisper as she added, “I just need you all to go away.”
Such sorrow and pain and lament filled her eyes as she looked away from him, blinking, that he felt like an ass.
Vorik, Agrevlari spoke into his mind from whatever perch he’d found. The soldiers that have returned to the castle mentioned checking the tunnels underneath it. I believe many are heading down there now. Have you acquired your new female?
She’s not my new female. Vorik had briefly explained his orders to Agrevlari but didn’t know if the dragon grasped the nuances of the plan. It was possible he was being snarky. It was also possible that, his kind being straightforward creatures who rarely thought of deceit, Agrevlari didn’t get it.
You said you would return with her and that I would have to endure her riding on my back, even if I have no bond with her and she’s unlikely to be strong enough and adequate enough that a dragon would normally accept her as a rider.
I just said she was coming along. You inferred all the rest.
Dragons are excellent inferrers.
Uh-huh. Vorik caught voices in the distance. The soldiers, presumably.
He didn’t worry about defending himself against them, but he didn’t want the princess caught in the middle of a fight.
Also, if he had to kill people—her own allies—at her feet, she would be less likely to ever trust him.
It had been difficult enough to subdue the bodyguard without hurting him.
Doing so with a whole squadron of troops…
“I’ll happily take your suggestion,” Vorik said, aware of Syla continuing to point toward the lagoon.
“But I suggest you come with me. In the castle above, the wyverns may have returned. They have no qualms about feeding on…” He caught himself before saying the kills of others.
That was too callous. They were her people.
“I’m aware,” Syla said, “but we’ll avoid them on our own.”
“Our people should have gathered troops and be searching the castle by now,” Fel said.
Since that was exactly what was happening, Vorik had a hard time arguing harder—lying further—to them.
A clink sounded, and the voices were growing louder as the soldiers headed toward the intersection. Before long, their lanterns would be visible.
Fel and Syla might have lacked his magically keen hearing, but the noises were now loud enough that they turned in that direction.
Syla looked at Vorik and opened her mouth, calculation in her eyes. Was she going to scream for help? For her troops to rush forward and try to kill or capture him?
Vorik lifted his chin, ready to fight if need be.
But she made an exasperated sound and pointed again for him to go in the direction of the lagoon.
“This way, Your Highness.” Fel gripped her wrist and led her toward the voices.
She went willingly with him. Vorik hadn’t expected anything different but found himself calling softly, “If you change your mind about wanting my protection, I’ll wait for you until dawn at the lighthouse along the coast beyond your castle.”
The frown that Syla cast over her shoulder suggested she thought he was stupid for believing she would have anything further to do with him.
Or stupid for giving her his future location.
Perhaps some of both. But if she sent troops after Vorik, Agrevlari could easily leap into the air so they could fly away.
Vorik backed out of the light of the intersection, letting himself watch her for a moment before turning away.
The curves he’d noticed earlier were quite appealing from the rear perspective, the fabric of her dress hugging her hips and buttocks, and he caught himself wishing she would look back at him.
She did not, merely walking away with determination. Sighing, Vorik turned and trotted in the opposite direction.
“Princess Syla,” came a relieved cry, the male voice of a soldier or castle staff, Vorik assumed. “Are you all right?”
Vorik paused to listen, certain he could outrun the soldiers if Syla sent them after him—keen hearing wasn’t the only superior attribute his bond with Agrevlari gave him—and that he might learn something from eavesdropping.
“No,” she said grimly. “But I have a plan.”
Vorik blinked. What plan had she been thinking up during the chaos of the evening?
“Take me to your superior officer, Lieutenant,” she added. “Whoever is in charge now.”
“General Tox was unfortunately slain, Your Highness, and General Dolok was badly injured, but I’ll take you to Colonel Mosworth.”
“Thank you, Lieutenant.”
“Wait,” Fel said. “There’s a dragon rider down here in the tunnels, Lieutenant. Captain Vorik. We saw him only a moment ago, and he went that way.”
Vorik had expected them to send the soldiers after him and nodded to himself as he departed. Thanks to Mavus’s intelligence reports, he knew the princess had sent him in the right direction and that the tunnel did indeed lead to an underground lagoon through which he could escape.
Given her opinion of what she believed to be a ruse, it was surprising that she hadn’t tried to trick Vorik and send him down a true dead-end. And what if the bodyguard hadn’t told the troops about Vorik? Would Syla have?
It had sounded like she wanted to leave and carry on with her next steps, not that she’d longed for his death.
Maybe, even though they were enemies, she’d felt beholden to him for rushing in to save her from Mavus and Anok.
If that was true, there might be hope that Vorik could eventually win her trust.
As shouts followed him toward the lagoon, he nodded to himself again. For the sake of his people, and because the general had commanded it, he would find a way to succeed.