Chapter 11
“Does it seem strange to you that you’re riding in a carriage with a wobbly wheel when you have a dragon?
” Teyla asked as the horses took them down the highway toward Lyvor.
She, Syla, Captain Vonla, and the Royal Protectors all rode inside.
Celena, perhaps not wanting to squish in with everyone else, had volunteered to sit with the coachman.
“Sorry about the wheel, by the way,” Teyla added.
“That happened when it went careening off across a field after your dragon toasted the enforcer wagon.”
“It’s fine.” Syla looked out the window at the dark countryside, already missing Vorik.
They hadn’t seen him along the way, or Syla would have offered him a ride to the coast, but he could run fast and had probably traveled miles before the carriage had departed the farm.
She hoped she hadn’t laden him down with so much food that he would struggle to swim out beyond the barrier and reach Agrevlari.
No, Vorik could probably manage that feat while carrying an entire kitchen pantry on his back.
Or maybe a pie safe filled to the brim. She smiled at the thought.
Syla herself had been tempted to ride on a horse, but the carriage hid them from the curious eyes of travelers—and spies. That was why she’d ordered the Royal Protectors, with their signature gold-trimmed blue uniforms, to ride inside with them, though the broad-shouldered men made it a tight fit.
“I’ve ridden in all manner of conveyances lately,” Syla added, thinking of the armored carriage in which she’d been taken prisoner back on Harvest Island—and the handsy sergeant who had wanted to force an heir upon her. “This isn’t the worst, by far.”
“It was quite nice before the wobble,” Teyla said, then fell silent again.
She had also been gazing pensively out the window for much of the trip.
Thinking of her father’s passing, perhaps.
A few times, she’d started conversations, and it had seemed like she was trying to distract herself.
Haunted by the deaths of so many of her family members, Syla understood all too well the need to do so.
She rubbed her eyes and yawned. The group had rested for a few hours before taking off, but everyone had agreed that traveling in the dark would make them less likely to be spotted—or intercepted by enforcers—so they’d departed after midnight.
“Wreylith is still on the island, right?” Teyla asked. “In case we need her?”
“Yes. She’s soaring about to vex and confuse the spies.” Syla didn’t mention that Wreylith was hunting for real estate—cave estate—and probably ignoring the humans on Castle Island completely. She didn’t know if the dragon would appreciate her informing everyone about her pregnancy.
“Maybe she should soar over the capital,” Vonla suggested, “in case she spots Fograth traveling to or from the castle.”
“A beheading-by-dragon would be the most efficient way to remove your competition from the throne, Syla,” Teyla said.
“You don’t think a dragon slaying someone in a public city street would alarm the populace?
” Syla asked, though she might not be that upset if Wreylith efficiently removed Fograth for her.
Too bad there were so many other ambitious people who wanted the throne.
Such an act wouldn’t necessarily end the problem.
“It would alarm them,” Vonla said, “but you might want that.”
Teyla nodded. “Others would be less likely to attempt to usurp the crown if they knew being chomped on by a dragon was a possible repercussion.”
“I never would have expected that my female advisors would be my most grisly.”
The Royal Protectors had been looking out the windows for trouble and not presuming to partake in the conversation, but one did nod.
“Sergeant Fel is pretty blunt too,” Teyla said. “You need people who say things like they are.”
“I’m not an advisor, Your Majesty,” Vonla said, “just a lowly captain, but I would be pleased to offer counsel whenever you wish.”
“I’m happy to advise you.” Teyla waved at herself.
“As a relative, I think it’s my right. I need to make sure you stay alive and get your throne back, because who else would approve an archaeological expedition to the Dire Desert, with me as the team lead and perhaps a dragon to go along with me and eat any wyverns that think humans are delicious? ”
“I was going to say you’ve the finances to put together your own team,” Syla said, “but if you want dragon assistance… money can’t buy that.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Enough elioks and horn hogs might.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Your Majesty,” one of the Royal Protectors said, “we’re descending toward the coast and Lyvor, but you may want to rethink visiting the town.” He pointed out the window on his side of the carriage and leaned back so she could see out.
After all the chaos she’d endured, Syla half expected to find the city had been attacked and was in flames, but it looked peaceful enough sprawling along its protected harbor as dawn approached.
In the wan, early-morning light, it took her a moment to realize that more ships had arrived. Warships. Her stomach sank.
“I suppose I should have expected that. The enforcers we fought had to have glimpsed me. I hope I didn’t endanger Aunt Tibby by leaving her there, but she needed the magical tools and raw materials at the glassworks to have a chance at creating a shielder.
” Syla bit her lip, second-guessing herself. “Fel stayed with her at least.”
“Your bodyguard is an earnest warrior,” Teyla said, “but not a match for the entire fleet.”
“Major Hixun gave him a couple of flares.”
“You think that would turn the tide?”
“No, but Fel could have signaled to Hixun to pick them up at the cove where we landed if he spotted trouble in the city.”
“Those ships may have just arrived,” Vonla said, also peering out the window.
“Let’s hope so and that the fleet hasn’t had time yet to search the city,” Syla said.
“I don’t know how far along Tibby will be, but maybe she can borrow tools, and we can move her and her project back aboard the Fanged Whale and take her…
hm. As strange as it seems, it might be safer to sail her over to Harvest Island. ”
“You plan to do all that without the fleet seeing?” Teyla asked. “And capturing your Fanged Whale?”
“With luck, yes. Otherwise, one of the fleet ships will have to give us transportation.”
“And your accommodations would be where? In their dungeon?”
“We’d have to take over the ship, I suppose,” Syla said.
“Like… capture it?” Teyla asked.
“Essentially.”
“Shall we ride up to the dock in our wobbly carriage and send your two Royal Protectors out to confront a crew that includes dozens of armed soldiers? And is surrounded by other warships with similar crews?”
The Royal Protectors exchanged looks with each other from opposite benches in the carriage.
“Of course not,” Syla said, though with Wreylith’s help, she might be able to take over a ship. But even if the timely arrival of a dragon cowed the men, she would need a willing crew to sail her to Harvest Island. “There would have to be suborning, I’d imagine.”
“The way you suborned Captain Vorik?” Teyla asked.
“Not… exactly.”
Wreylith? Syla reached out telepathically, sure they would need the dragon’s assistance before the morning was over. Maybe before the hour was over. We could use your help back in Lyvor.
“Captain Vorik does seem suborned,” Vonla mused.
“Smitten,” Teyla said. “I think by Syla’s boobs. He looks at them a lot when he doesn’t think she’s looking. And also when she is looking.” Teyla lowered her voice to whisper, “I think she likes it.”
Syla’s cheeks warmed. “I had no idea you spent so much time watching him when we were on that expedition.”
“I was trying to determine if we could trust him. I actually thought, after all that chest inspecting, that we could, but then he took our components in the end anyway.” Teyla shrugged.
“His lieutenant took them. Vorik—” Syla glimpsed a streak of orange in the sky to the east of the city and peered in that direction.
Her first thought was that Wreylith had arrived already and streamed flames at a target, but that had been too narrow to be dragon fire, and it had been over the cove where Major Hixun had let her group off.
“That was a flare,” Vonla said.
Syla nodded. “It must be one of the ones that Hixun gave to Fel. If that’s him, and he wants to call our ship back, it makes sense that he would fire it from the cove, but… if he’s over there, who’s guarding Aunt Tibby?”
“Maybe she’s not in danger right now.”
Syla eyed the warships in the harbor, wishing she had a spyglass. Many were anchored in the water, but a few of them were docked. What if fleet soldiers were even now charging into the city and knew to check the glassworks?
Afraid she’d made a mistake by leaving Tibby there, Syla called to the coachman to pick up the pace. The carriage jerked and jolted as it increased speed, the wobble of the damaged wheel more pronounced, and it jostled the women about.
The caves on this island are insufficient in size for a dragon of my stature, Wreylith finally replied.
Is there any chance that means you’re on your way?
I do not care for their tubular nature and the way so many that would be large enough for me to fly into also extend deep into the core of the island. One does not want enemies to be able to attack from behind when one is nesting in a cave. Your islands were formed by volcanic activity, yes?
Most of them were, yes. We’re going to need your assistance soon, please. There are fleet ships in the Lyvoran Freight Harbor, and Fel just called for Hixun to charge in with our ships. They’re going to be captured if we don’t help.
Yes, yes, I will come to assist you. Oh, that cave right by the waterline is most intriguing. Are those stalactites? That would imply limestone, yes? Perhaps that was formed over the eons by an uplifted coral reef.
Syla groaned.