Chapter 14
When Agrevlari landed, Syla slid off in such a hurry that she stumbled in the uneven grass and had to reach out to steady herself on a scaled forelimb.
Captain Vorik landed lightly beside her, as graceful as ever.
As graceful and amazingly athletic as he’d been while battling those riders, protecting her, as he’d promised he would.
His face had been nothing but determined when those men had cursed him for turning traitor, for belonging to that faction.
Vorik looked at her, and Syla dropped her hand, not wanting him to think she needed help in any way—not wanting him to have a reason to step close and put his arms around her again.
She’d liked that far, far too much. At first, it had simply felt good to be embraced and supported after the horrifying day and night she’d had.
But then… when he’d kissed her neck, that had sent startlingly intense pleasure throughout her whole body.
And those nibbles at her ear? They’d lit her entire being with desire.
Which was ridiculous. She had a mission, she was in mourning, and there was way too much to worry about.
There was no way she, or her treacherous body, should be thinking about sex.
Especially with him. Vorik was a stormer, from the enemy people who had attacked and killed hers. They’d killed her family.
She would not allow herself to have any kind feelings, and definitely not attraction, toward him. For many reasons, that would be foolish.
It was possible he was what he claimed to be, but her instincts told her that she’d better remain wary.
It had been useful to receive a ride to the farm, but, as soon as she could, she would slip away from Vorik.
She had to. Strolling around the countryside with a rider and his dragon felt like a betrayal to the kingdom, no matter what allegiance he claimed.
Syla walked toward the gate of a wooden fence that surrounded the house, carving out a yard and garden space from the rest of the farm.
In one of the barns, horses neighed and whinnied.
They sounded nervous. Because something had happened and their handlers hadn’t brought breakfast?
Or because they sensed the dragon outside?
Syla looked around, seeking signs of her aunt or the laborers who worked here, providing pork, beef, lamb, fruit, vegetables, honey, and herbs for the castle.
The gate was ajar, but that wasn’t that surprising.
People had probably run outside to look toward the sky when the dragons had arrived in the capital.
The farm lay more than twenty miles from the castle, but the fires must have been visible on the horizon during the night.
Fortunately, this area didn’t appear to have been attacked or damaged in any way. But the workers might have fled, regardless. If dragons had even flown over the area, it would have alarmed those living below, whether the creatures had started fires or not.
Syla didn’t think everyone had abandoned the farm though. She sensed that someone was in the area. Watching them.
Hopefully not seeing everything. Such as her letting Vorik wrap his arms around her, then leaning back into his hard body and inviting…
Storm’s teeth, she hadn’t meant to invite anything. Letting him touch her had been a mistake.
When she reached the gate, Syla paused, afraid she would find Vorik trailing right behind her, close enough to embrace her again, to pull her back against him.
No, he wasn’t there. She told herself that was a relief, then looked around for him. His dragon remained, now lounging in the grass by the road, but where had Vorik gone?
A soft ah led her gaze to him.
“Is this a pear?” Vorik’s soft words held wonder, as if he could hardly believe it, and he plucked one from a low-hanging branch and bit into it. He slumped against the tree trunk and groaned with delight. “It is a pear.”
Syla stared over the fence at him, reminded of the berries he’d picked. There was something incongruous about such a fearsome warrior having a sweet tooth. A fruit tooth.
She’d watched him kill someone and defeat several others with such physical prowess that it was breathtaking, if not terrifying. But he looked positively harmless leaning in the orchard, noshing the pear.
“Something I must not allow myself to think,” she murmured, walking up the flagstone path to the porch. “He may be the most dangerous person I’ve ever met.”
“Don’t worry,” Vorik called to her around a bite of pear. “I’ll watch the sky for you.” He raised the fruit in a salute.
She waved vaguely, not certain if he’d heard her words and was responding to them, or was simply letting her know he would keep an eye out while he raided the fruit trees. Either way, it wasn’t as reassuring as he’d possibly meant it to be.
She started up the wooden steps but halted. The front door stood open. Yes, it was as she feared. Something was amiss. Leaving the gate open seemed a simple enough mistake but the front door?
Worry sank into her gut. What if dragon riders had been here earlier? What if they’d known about Aunt Tibby and her moon-marked magic, and they’d come here to kill her? Just as Syla’s mother and siblings had already been killed?
She lifted her hand toward the door, but the fear of walking in and finding another body on the floor—her aunt’s body—froze her in place. And what if some greater threat lingered? Should she call Vorik to walk in with her?
No. As she’d just been thinking, she couldn’t depend on him. She needed to continue forward on her own.
By the road, Agrevlari grunted and rose to all fours. His nostrils flexed as his head went up.
Are there sheep in this area? Delicious sheep with meat soft and juicy from a life of ease, never having had to flee predators?
Syla tightened her jaw at the thought of Vorik’s dragon—of any dragons—taking advantage of the shield being down to raid pastures around the island.
But that had been their whole plan, hadn’t it?
To destroy the shielders and devour that which her people maintained.
Vorik’s eating of the pear took on a more sinister connotation for her, reminding her that he and his people had attacked so that they could plunder.
If Vorik answered the dragon, she didn’t hear the response in her mind.
After a few more sniffs of the air, the creature sprang into the air and flew in the direction where she knew pastures lay.
She wanted to object but didn’t. If workers were in hiding, they would be more likely to come out if the dragon was gone.
Syla called a soft, “Hello?” and pushed the door farther open.
A creak came from the back of the house, and the hair stood up on the back of her neck.
“Aunt Tibby?” She kept her calls soft, doubting her relative was the one skulking around. “Is that you?”
Syla took a couple of steps inside, the front room dim thanks to shutters covering the windows, and she eyed the floor between the sofas and chairs, still worried about bodies.
And also the feeling that she was being watched.
The farmhouse had been used by numerous generations over the years, and the hodgepodge of furnishings filling the living area offered numerous hiding spots.
Another creak came from the kitchen just visible through a doorway at the back of the room. It sounded like someone’s weight shifting on a wooden floorboard.
A soft thump from the porch behind made her jump and spin around.
Vorik stood on the steps, pears and apples gathered in his tunic as he fished in his hip pocket with one hand.
He’d sheathed his sword behind his shoulder and looked more like a shopper visiting the produce market than a fearsome dragon rider.
“How much do these items cost?” Vorik retrieved silver coins from his pocket and laid a couple on the porch railing. “I gather these trees are tended and that the delicious fruits don’t grow wild.”
“I…” Syla didn’t know what to say.
His people had attacked the capital and left bodies everywhere, and he thought someone would be worried about being paid for produce? This farm didn’t even sell at the market; its food was used to feed the royal family and castle soldiers and staff.
Vorik cocked his head, studying her in a look of earnest inquiry.
“I pay a copper a pear at the market.” Syla spread a helpless arm and pointed toward the kitchen, tempted to ask him to check it out, but if a worker spotted him before her, the person might attack.
Vorik nodded and added another silver coin to the railing. “And how much for a… I believe Agrevlari is singling out a sheep.”
“Uh, those are a lot more.”
“I was afraid of that. Riders aren’t paid that much, and it’s more often in salt or edibles than coin, so I’m not certain I can afford to cover what he consumes.
I will, however, suggest that he pay. Or that he seek animals that aren’t raised and tended by people.
” Vorik frowned into the distance, in the direction the dragon had gone.
“He doesn’t always listen to me though. Dragons do whatever they wish, even those bonded to humans. ”
Despite suggesting he couldn’t afford to pay for livestock, Vorik placed a couple more silver coins on the railing. Since Syla usually only paid for a portion of meat from the butcher, she had no idea what an entire sheep cost.
Vorik started to say something else, but his gaze snagged on the garden area in the side yard.
In the morning sunlight, butterflies flitted from sunflower to marigold to zinnia, the flowers clustered near vegetables in various stages of growth.
An attractive clump of eral pods waved in the breeze on their stalks, the versatile herbs a staple in kingdom gardens, thanks to their healing properties.
More than once, Syla had used the milk of the pods to create a salve that neutralized rattlesnake venom.
“Is that a garden?” Vorik asked. “I see zucchini and cucumbers, and are those strawberries? This late in the season?”