Chapter 20 #2
Since Syla had been watching them approach, the question wasn’t a surprise. Though Wreylith hadn’t altered her course or said anything telepathically to them, she had to be aware of the dragons too. Likely, she’d spotted them long before her human riders had.
Of the two in the lead, one was blue and one gray. They were flying hard toward Wreylith with riders on their backs. It looked like they wanted to intercept the red dragon before she reached the island.
As powerful as Wreylith was, Syla worried about being outnumbered. She could make out two more dragons in the distance, also heading in her direction.
“It’s almost like they were waiting for us,” Syla said, but how could the stormers have anticipated that she would leave Castle Island and that it would be by air?
Unless… could Vorik have somehow told his people?
Syla looked back, half-expecting to find him and Agrevlari on a leisurely flight, having anticipated the arrival of these dragons.
But no. Agrevlari was flapping his wings hard, his tail streaming straight out behind him as he sought to catch up with Wreylith.
And on his back, the grim-faced Vorik leaned forward, his gargoyle-bone sword in his hand.
They were trying to catch up so they could help if a fight broke out.
Syla silently apologized to Vorik for doubting him.
Impudent human-hugging dragons, Wreylith boomed telepathically, why do you fly to intercept me?
Why do you carry two human runts on your back? one replied promptly. The voice seemed to originate with the blue dragon. They are enemies to our kind and to wild dragons as well.
Wreylith digested that for a moment. One is not an enemy to our kind. One has assisted this dragon in a minute but not insignificant manner.
“She’s grateful to you,” Tibby said.
“I wouldn’t assume that from those words.”
The princess of the kingdom is desired by General Jhiton, a significant ally to dragons.
Only to dragons who fawn at the boots of humans. Wreylith managed to flick a dismissive wingtip without missing a beat. He is not significant to wild dragons.
Syla peered toward the cliffs along the northern coast. They were getting closer, but would they reach the invisible shield around Harvest Island before the dragons reached them?
All dragons will appreciate being able to hunt and fish on the teeming shores of these islands, the blue dragon said, once the shielders have all been destroyed.
Even though Syla had suspected that was the stormers’ plan, she found the naked statement chilling.
Even more chilling was that they had dragons on board with their plan.
Not only that, but those dragons were trying to woo Wreylith to their side.
And Wreylith, though she was helping now, had no reason to love humans.
Might she not be tempted by teeming shores?
Give us the one you carry, the blue dragon continued when Wreylith didn’t respond, and we will not harm you.
Harm me? You spineless dragons haven’t the ability to harm me.
The jaws of the blue parted, and it spewed fire.
The gray flapping its wings beside it did the same, their gouts of flame mingling to form a cloud that they flew through, impervious.
The fire didn’t seem to touch their riders.
The enemy dragons had drawn close enough now that Syla could see those riders, both female, both wearing the same black riding leathers and gloves that Vorik wore.
One woman pointed at her. Was she the leader?
“They’re out for you,” Tibby said. “They seem indifferent to me.”
“You’re lucky then.”
“If I were lucky, I wouldn’t be riding immediately behind you.”
“We’re not far.” Syla nodded toward the black cliffs growing more distinct along the shoreline ahead.
This wasn’t the spot she’d thought they should angle for, with protected shallows that would make for an easier swim, but with Wreylith adjusting her flightpath to maneuver away from the oncoming dragons, Syla wouldn’t attempt to direct her.
She didn’t want to risk Wreylith deciding that her passengers were too much work—or too annoying—and should be given to the other dragons.
“I’m not sure exactly how far out the shield extends here, are you? ”
“I only know that it’s not a precise distance. In some places, it’s a mile or more. In others, the dragons can get within a quarter mile of shore. They can sense it. I’ve seen them flying along its borders.”
Syla nodded. She had too. In the past, on one of the handful of trips she’d taken to other islands, she’d sensed the magic, rippling like a curtain, when her ship had passed through.
The shields only kept dragons, wyverns, and other powerful predators away.
Humans were always welcome, no matter who they were aligned with.
Last chance, the blue dragon said, close enough now that its yellow slitted eyes were visible.
They didn’t glow the way Wreylith’s did, but Syla didn’t presume the dragon wasn’t powerful. Very powerful. And there were two of them. With two more on the way.
You are the one interfering with my flight, Wreylith replied. It is not my last chance but yours. My ire is roused.
Flames spewed from her open maw, brilliant and intense. Syla lowered on her back, afraid the wind would send the fire in her direction.
The other dragons weren’t deterred. Maws open and fangs on display, they flew straight toward Wreylith’s flank.
Hold on, humans, Wreylith warned. I will attempt to get you close to the barrier, and then you will have to depart, but I believe you would find it difficult to swim to shore from here.
“That’s an understatement,” Tibby muttered. “Is that a shark fin down there?”
They were too far above for Syla to make out such things, and she only said, “A rock formation, I think.”
“Ah, that’ll be pleasant to fall on then.”
After Wreylith’s advice, Syla tightened the straps of her pack around her shoulders and sank lower, but she didn’t know what they could hold on to.
It wasn’t as if there was a harness or reins, and the scales were slick, not rough, with only the faintest of grooves in between each.
All she could do was attempt to hug herself to the dragon’s back.
“Is there anything we can do to help?” she asked, though she had no weapons.
Many riders shoot arrows or wield swords if the fighting draws near enough.
“I, uhm, don’t have either. Only some suture needles in my pack. They’re more effective in the aftermath of battles.” Feeling useless, Syla glanced over her shoulder, but it wasn’t as if her aunt would whip out a rapier.
“I have books,” Tibby said, but she was busy hugging the dragon, her cheek pressed to the scales, and her eyes squinted shut.
Simply stay on then.
Did Wreylith sound disgusted? Or was Syla imagining that?
Agrevlari had nearly caught up with Wreylith, and Vorik shouted something to the lead female rider. Thanks to the wind, Syla couldn’t make it out, but the rider pointed her sword at him and flicked a finger toward her female ally, who had a bow with an arrow already nocked.
This is turning into a dreadful flight, Wreylith said. I’d hoped the barrier might be down on this island, as on the other, and I might hunt the fabled elioks. I remember their wondrous meat from my distant youth.
“Sorry.” Syla thought about mentioning that the barrier might drop on this island, should she be effective in her mission, but she didn’t want rows of dragons lined up to take advantage. Besides, speaking of her mission to strangers wouldn’t be a good idea.
The rider with the bow rose up, aiming over the horns of her dragon toward them.
With an irritated roar, Wreylith banked hard. She didn’t veer away from the archer and other dragons but toward them.
The movement caused her to tilt. Tibby cursed, and Syla gripped even more tightly to Wreylith’s scaled back, willing herself to stick like a spider to a wall.
Breathing fire, Wreylith flew toward the blue dragon.
Nearby, Agrevlari adjusted his flight and also angled toward the blue.
The four dragons came together with screeches and bursts of fire.
Heat roiled off a gout that streamed past only a foot to Wreylith’s side, skimming the top of her wing.
The red dragon dipped into a short dive before flying upward, wings flapping hard.
She came up to bite at the underbelly of her foe.
Again, Tibby swore, struggling to stay on.
Suffering the same problem, Syla fought to keep her fear from turning into panic, but she knew she would inevitably fall, and they remained far from shore.
Even if sharks and other sea predators hadn’t been a problem, the currents at this distance would keep even a strong swimmer from reaching safety.
Syla willed the magic in her moon-mark to somehow help her, to lend her power to strengthen her grip on Wreylith. But all she’d ever learned to do with her magic was heal people. She’d never longed for battle and certainly never dreamed of riding on a dragon.
Agrevlari screeched as he also bit at their blue foe, then headed for its ally, the gray dragon carrying the archer.
Somehow, Vorik had no trouble staying on his twisting and diving mount.
He was even on his feet and swung his sword at the archer loosing arrows at Wreylith—and Syla and Tibby.
The female rider ducked, but Vorik managed to slice through her bowstring as Agrevlari carried him past.
Behind him, Fel had pulled his crossbow off his back, but he merely clenched it as he stayed low. Much like Aunt Tibby, his face was a rictus of concentration as he fought to keep from falling off.
Once more, Wreylith banked hard, swinging her body around as she bit at the tail of the blue dragon. The twist almost threw Syla off. Tibby did lurch sideways, but she managed to scrabble back astride though one leg dangled precariously.