Chapter 4 #2
“Let me get to the glassworks, ideally without drawing attention, before you call her,” Tibby said.
“It may be hard for you to avoid attracting attention, Syla, but it’ll be better for our plans if your enemies don’t know what I’m up to.
Even though everyone in the Kingdom should want the islands protected again, I have a feeling they won’t want you—or an aunt associated with you—to accomplish that. ”
Keep an eye out, Vorik, Agrevlari warned from a rock formation beyond the shield.
At first, Vorik thought his comrade had spotted more snipers, but when he saw the dark-gray dragon flying past in the distance, he realized that was the reason for the warning. Unlike the first two times that Tonasketal had cruised along the shoreline, he didn’t have a rider.
Vorik groaned.
“What?” Syla also looked first toward the cliff tops.
Vorik pointed at the dragon beyond the barrier. “Someone may be coming to see me. That’s Lieutenant Wise’s dragon—and he’s not on him.”
“Wise? That’s the stormer who stole the shielder components when you knocked me off the weapons platform, right?”
“Yes.”
“And who wanted you to kidnap me back in the rainforest ruins.”
“Also yes.”
“I don’t like him.”
“Depending on why he’s here, I may also develop a distaste for him.” To Agrevlari, Vorik said, Has Tonasketal spoken to you?
He asked what I knew about Jhiton’s death.
Ah. What did you tell him?
To ask you. He didn’t say anything else to me. Vorik, I suspect we have been ostracized.
I know. I’m sorry. If you leave me to bond with another human, I’ll understand.
My actions suggest… Vorik almost said that he wasn’t worthy of a dragon ally, but he didn’t want to admit that.
His people might disagree, but it was hard for him to feel that he’d made a mistake.
He loved Syla, and he’d chosen to protect her.
That wasn’t wrong, damn it. I would understand, he repeated to finish the thought.
Wreylith has also been ostracized, Agrevlari said casually. He didn’t sound that distressed, not that much distressed dragons. We have that in common. As she grows lonely from a lack of social interaction with other wild dragons, she may come to treasure my company more.
“Are you talking to Agrevlari?” Syla guessed.
“Yes. He’s less upset to be ostracized than you might imagine.”
Her brow crinkled, but the major returned before she could ask for clarification.
“Our captive is reluctant to identify who gave him orders, saying only that a superior officer did, but we’ll get the information out of him.
In the meantime, we’ll take him prisoner on the ship so that he can’t report your whereabouts to his superiors.
” The major waved toward two men leading the enforcer, now shackled, to one of the dinghies.
“Thank you, Hixun,” Syla said. “I’m hoping this won’t take long.”
Captain Vonla pulled her hood over her head, tucked her sword under her cloak, and nodded toward the two Royal Protectors and a pair of soldiers who would accompany her.
Fit and lean, more like a stormer than a gardener, she didn’t look much like Syla, but maybe from afar, people wouldn’t be able to tell.
Vorik hoped the woman wouldn’t fall to a sniper’s bow. At this point, he supported anyone who supported Syla.
“Meet back here, sir? Your Majesty?” Vonla asked.
“In two days,” the major said, but Syla held up a finger.
“Actually, Captain, meet us at my cousin Teyla’s estate.
Her family lives off the King’s Highway near Lake Ferringtar, and there’s no reason her father’s property should be monitored.
If anything, he supports Relvin, who I know has kept company with Lord Fograth.
I’m not sure if my cousin is staying there or in the capital, but Teyla is someone I’ll want to talk to as part of our intelligence gathering mission. ”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Vonla said.
“If there are troops there, our backup plan will be to meet at the royal farm. You know the spot? It’s between Lake Ferringtar and the capital.”
Vonla nodded. “I do.”
“I can’t sail my ships to an inland estate to pick you up, Your Majesty,” the major said dryly.
“I just need you to keep your ships from being captured by the fleet over the next two days. When we’re ready for you—for that—” Syla pointed toward the weapons platform on the deck of the Fanged Whale, “—Wreylith and I will come find you. Just don’t let it fall into enemy hands in the meantime.”
“We’ll do our best.” The major looked out toward the ocean, and the gray dragon flying past again, like he might be more concerned about their kind than the Kingdom fleet.
It was true that Vorik’s people would happily target the weapons platform if they got the opportunity, but they had to be disheveled and busy regrouping.
If Vorik were the major, he would worry more about his own people right now.
They had a lot of ships with which to monitor the waters around Castle Island.
“Here.” Hixun waved to a man who pulled a couple of flares out of a dinghy. “Light one of these off when you want us to pick you up.”
“Thank you.” Syla gestured for Fel to take the flares. “And I’ve something for you, Major.” Syla delved into a pack she’d brought along, including the same medical kit she’d carried to the stormer camp. “Hydra-scale powder. You can use it on the prisoner to induce chattiness.”
“Are you sure you won’t need that?” Hixun accepted the small jar but looked at Vorik. Did the dull man still believe Syla considered him a prisoner?
“No,” she said, “Vorik is already chatty.”
“That is true,” he said. “All she has to do is give me a cobbler or a tart, and I’ll burble all my secrets to her.”
“If only that were true. Your chattiness tends to hide secrets.” Syla tapped her spectacles, maybe thinking of their conversation in her throne room where they’d discussed vision and juggling instead of what his people had really been up to on Castle Island.
“Not anymore,” Vorik said firmly and walked beside her as she pulled a hood over her head, and their party headed up the trail. “I don’t have any further secrets to withhold from you.”
“Because you’ve realized your heart requires you be honest with me in all matters or because your people won’t tell you anything anymore?”
“The heart thing would make me sound more loving and devoted, right?”
“Yes.”
“Then that’s in there.” Vorik bumped shoulders with Syla but also eyed the bluffs as they climbed the trail. The captain had left a guard up there to stand watch while the parties left, but Vorik doubted a Kingdom soldier would spot Lieutenant Wise if he was lurking in the area.
Night descended upon Castle Island as Syla walked along the coastal highway with her party, stepping into the grass along the side when the occasional horse-drawn carriage or, more commonly, wagon filled with harvested goods passed them.
The Royal Protectors had gone with Captain Vonla, and nobody did more than glance at Syla’s group, especially since she kept her hood up, and by night, it was too dark for people to realize what Vorik’s black riding leathers signaled.
Her group didn’t speak when people passed, aside from Fel grumbling that Syla should have an armored carriage and they shouldn’t be walking all over the countryside.
Judging by the number of times he paused to knead his thigh or stretch his calf, his old injuries were the reason he wanted that carriage.
Wind gusted across the highway, rustling the grass and sending clouds scudding across the night sky. Earlier, stars had been visible, but another storm was brewing.
“In more ways than one,” Syla murmured.
Tibby tripped over a rock and cursed. Fel steadied her.
“You’re making me nervous with how often you’re looking behind us,” Syla told Vorik after he did precisely that for the twentieth or thirtieth time.
Ahead, lanterns were visible, concentrated around the highway as it descended toward another cove. They ought to indicate the town of Lyvor, but Syla had never traveled across the countryside at night and wasn’t positive. Behind them, the way was too dark for her to see anything.
“My apologies.” Vorik turned forward again and pointed off at an oblique angle. “Would you be more at ease if my glances were in that direction?”
“No. Do you have a reason to believe there are more Kingdom troops out here searching for me? Or is it something else? Your lieutenant?”
If his concerns had to do with his people, she wasn’t positive Vorik would answer.
Despite his claim that he wouldn’t hold secrets from her any longer, she didn’t know how honest to expect him to be when it came to the stormers.
He would help her—she had no doubt about that—but if he noticed his people were up to something tangential, would he point it out?
“I think he’s on the island, yes,” Vorik said. “He may not be the only stormer here.”
A man with a wagon came up behind them, horses whuffing and probably eager to reach their destination and dinner. A lantern hanging beside the driver’s seat illuminated his broad face with a dark well-trimmed beard and mustache.
“You folks need a ride?” he asked. “Got some weather coming in.”
“No,” Fel said as Aunt Tibby said, “Yes.”
“No,” Fel repeated, glaring at her.
“Yes, we’d love a ride,” Tibby told the driver, “and so would he.”
Fel glared at her.
“Especially his calves and hamstrings,” she added.
“You two married?” the driver asked dryly, stopping his horse team.
He looked at Vorik and Syla as well, though the darkness and their hoods ensured he couldn’t see much about them.
Or… could he? Syla sensed a hint of magic to the man.
Was he one of her moon-marked relatives?
If so, he was a distant one because she didn’t recognize him.
“I’d never marry someone who prefers wielding weapons to books,” Tibby said tartly, climbing into the back of the wagon without consulting Syla about whether or not they should.