Epilogue #2
“Your dragon,” Fel said.
“Wreylith? She’s hardly that. She took back her figurine.”
“She could have roasted the entire ship,” he reminded her.
“Clearly, it was her adoration for me that kept her from giving in to that impulse.”
“It was… something.” Fel’s eyebrow twitched. “Maybe you bound her with your healing.”
“I don’t think so. There’s some kind of link between her and that figurine, but…” Syla shrugged. “She took it back.”
Once more, Fel looked upward, something catching his eye. “Look out.”
He gripped Syla’s arm and pulled her back a step. Something hit the flagstones and bounced higher than their heads before striking down, bouncing up again, then finally settling with a clatter. Syla stared.
“That thing is a lot sturdier than it looks.” Fel waved to the red glass—no, it most certainly wasn’t glass—dragon figurine.
The elioks were magnificent! Wreylith boomed into Syla’s mind, but she kept flying, not staying for a chat.
Syla picked up the figurine. Did its return mean that Wreylith would answer and, maybe even help, if Syla called to her again?
“Are you sure you didn’t bind her?” Fel asked dryly.
“That’s not possible with a dragon.”
“If you say so. Either way… let’s go see General Dolok.”
Syla followed him. She didn’t know about the methodology he suggested, but Fel was correct. If she intended to return order to the kingdom and save its people from stormers and dragons, she needed allies.
In a hurry to hunt, Agrevlari only flew Vorik partway up the volcano before banking sharply and tilting his back to suggest his rider depart.
Though it would have only taken the dragon another twenty seconds to reach the top, where General Jhiton was waiting, Vorik didn’t complain as he hopped off.
He wasn’t in a hurry for this private meeting, the first since his dragon had ignobly attacked Jhiton’s dragon, spoiling the attack on the whaling vessel and their plans to acquire the shielder.
Of course, their plans had been derailed before then, as soon as Wreylith had shown up with her unexpected allies, but his people might yet have pulled out a victory if not for Agrevlari attacking Ozlemar to protect the female for whom he pined.
Are you sure you should be hunting in the same area as Wreylith and her allies? Vorik asked as Agrevlari flew toward the forested southwest corner of the island. We did just engage in battle with them.
Dragons do not hold grudges. Besides, she should be quite pleased with me.
Ozlemar isn’t pleased with you.
Ozlemar is an ancient, grumpy broken horn of a dragon with a walrus tusk permanently lodged in his anal sphincter.
He’s one of your commanding officers, you know.
Wingleader Saleetha is my direct superior.
Ozlemar is her superior.
Our ranks negate nothing I said. Agrevlari tilted his wings insouciantly, then disappeared from view as he descended toward the forest.
As he climbed, Vorik spotted the black dragon they’d been speaking of sunning himself on a ledge, his dark scales like shadows that absorbed the surrounding brightness.
One of his yellow eyes opened to watch Vorik.
Ozlemar’s expression was baleful, and was that a growl that reached Vorik’s ears over the distant roar of the sea?
Vorik gave Ozlemar a wide berth, suspecting that more than eagerness for hunting had kept Agrevlari from flying close.
“Dragons,” Vorik murmured.
Jhiton glanced down at his approach.
Though he wanted to drag his feet, certain his brother felt irritated—if not vengeful—after that disgraceful end to the battle, Vorik made himself jog up so he wouldn’t be late. He didn’t need to give the general any more reasons to be vexed with him this week.
When he arrived, Jhiton stood on the rim of the crater that marked the apex of the volcano, its peak having blown off long ago.
His twin swords were sheathed at his hips, and the wind ruffled his short black hair as he gazed into the distance.
His hands were clasped behind his back, one fist curled around something.
Not a dagger that he would thrust into Vorik’s chest. Whatever it was, the hidden item was too small for that.
When Jhiton did not speak right away, Vorik stood at his side, joining him in gazing out over the landscape and the ocean beyond.
From the elevated perch, they could see the entire island, though it spanned thirty miles at its widest, and the far ends were indistinct, even to a rider’s keen vision.
He had, however, no trouble making out the lush croplands that started up beyond the foothills of the volcano, thousands and thousands of acres of cultivated orchards and farms with harvest season underway.
There would be plenty of time before winter to gather, preserve, and store food.
Maybe that was what Jhiton was thinking about when he slanted a long look at Vorik. It wasn’t that decipherable, but it wasn’t obviously hostile. That was a relief.
“Sorry about the mishap with Agrevlari,” Vorik said. “I should have anticipated something like that as soon as Wreylith showed up. I’ve known about that infatuation for a while.”
“When you ally with creatures as mercurial as dragons, you must expect that occasional chaos will be thrown into your battle plans.”
“Yes,” Vorik said.
Jhiton, who’d been openly irked as that kerfuffle was happening, must have had time to cool off. He even appeared… content? A slight smile curved his lips as he held out his hand. Several hazelnuts lay on his palm, not yet shelled.
“With the shielder gone, Harvest Island will soon be ours.” Yes, that was a content expression on Jhiton’s face.
“This is what you wanted from the beginning?”
It probably should have occurred to Vorik sooner. Castle Island had crops, too, but it wasn’t as devoted to farming as this place, and the gardeners would defend their capital and more populated island assiduously. Maybe that was why Jhiton had never spoken of occupying it after they’d invaded.
“It’s not all I want, but if it is all we can acquire and hold for the long-term… it alone could change the lives of our people.”
“The gardeners will try to get it back.”
“I’m aware. That is why we must maneuver and fight for more.
Since this is wedged between their other islands, it would be vulnerable to attack from all sides, and, as they have just learned themselves, it is always more challenging to defend what one has than fly in for raids and then disappear.
Eventually, we’ll need to secure the islands around this one.
” His eyes narrowed to slits. “If not take over the entire kingdom. Only then could we ensure that our people are fed not only this winter but for all winters going forward.”
“Ah.” It saddened Vorik to imagine attacking the kingdom subjects further. No, he admitted with a snort; it saddened him to imagine attacking Syla or causing her further grief. She’d already endured so much. He hated to add to her misery.
But passion burned now in Jhiton’s eyes as he gazed toward the sea and plotted.
Vorik didn’t try to dissuade his brother from his path, not when his own performance on this mission had been far from stellar.
Jhiton might feel content now, having achieved his first goal, but he wouldn’t forget that Agrevlari had attacked his dragon in front of a lot of witnesses, not only stormers but all the gardeners on those ships.
That had been embarrassing for both of them.
Going forward, Vorik would have to work harder than ever and follow every order precisely to ensure the general didn’t lose faith in him.
“What hold does the princess have over Wreylith?” Jhiton asked.
The question surprised Vorik, since he’d been thinking of other things, but he should have anticipated it. “She has a krendala for the red dragon.”
Jhiton’s expression grew stern. He couldn’t have appreciated being blindsided by the arrival of the wild dragon—dragons. “You didn’t think to mention that in the excruciatingly brief report you gave to Lieutenant Wise?”
Vorik winced, realizing he should have sent far more details back, including that Syla had secured Wreylith’s help previously.
But he hadn’t expected that to happen again.
After all, Wreylith had dumped Syla in the ocean outside of the Harvest Island barrier without, as far as he’d noticed, offering to wait or provide further assistance.
“I should have,” Vorik said.
“Yes.”
“How did she get it? How did a wild dragon become linked through a krendala to start with? And when did it happen?”
“I don’t know.”
“Will Wreylith assist her further?”
“I don’t know that either.”
“You will learn that information. It will be important for our future plans.” Jhiton thumbed the hazelnuts in his hand as he gazed toward the south.
Though they were too far away to be visible, other Garden Kingdom islands lay in that direction.
Jhiton might have chosen Harvest Island for a starting point, but it wasn’t the end of his ambitions.
“Oddly,” Vorik said, “Princess Syla didn’t invite me to visit her at the castle.”
“We will find a way to ensure you see her again.”
Since they would still be enemies, and Vorik would have to attempt to cajole, wheedle, or seduce information out of Syla—all acts that she would see as a betrayal—he shouldn’t have looked forward to the possibility.
But the words immediately made his body hum in anticipation as his mind conjured memories of their joining—and musings of how future joinings might go.
“I don’t object to that,” was all he said.
Jhiton gave him a knowing look. “I assumed.”
THE END