Chapter 16
With sixteen irate dragons facing him, Vorik sheathed his sword, slid off Agrevlari’s back, and walked out onto the bluff.
Though he appreciated the support of his ally, and the two other dragons who’d landed beside Agrevlari, he didn’t want them to be hurt because they chose to back him.
More likely, they were friends of Agrevlari and backed him, but the result could be the same.
Aware of his people watching from the trees but not stepping forward to interfere, Vorik stopped in front of the queue of dragons and spread his arms. What he would say to them, he didn’t know, but his gaze locked onto Ozlemar.
The black dragon stood in the middle, his eyes glowing more brightly than those of any of the others, and he exuded great power. His maw parted, and smoke drifted from his nostrils as that power seemed to intensify.
Vorik readied himself, prepared to dive to the side and hope he could avoid an attack right there, but Ozlemar looked to his left.
Jhiton stepped out onto the bluff. His gait was stiff from his wounds, but he kept himself from touching his gut as he walked. He didn’t come to stand beside Vorik but did place himself nearby, almost between Vorik and the dragons.
In the way of our people, Jhiton spoke telepathically to all gathered, including the dragons, Vorik has challenged a chief for leadership of a tribe and won the confrontation.
He is now the rightful leader of Wingborn.
While dragons are not bound by our laws, it would be incongruous with our history and the ways of both of our kinds for you to slay him.
He tried to slay you. Ozlemar smashed his tail down behind him, slapping the rocky ground.
And he mates with the enemy queen, she who seeks to keep dragons from hunting where they wish, another dragon said, and there went another tail smash.
Agrevlari has also joined with an enemy and should be punished, spoke a third. He mates with the dragon that is no longer wild and has aligned with the human queen.
Wreylith is a mighty female, yet another dragon said. To join with her, given the opportunity, is understandable. She takes few mates.
She has declared herself an enemy!
She has only defended herself and her claimed human when we have attacked. She did not otherwise seek out those of us aligned with the stormers.
Yes, but she claimed an enemy of the stormers.
Wisely so, though, yes? Because of her bond with the human queen, she can now hunt on any of the islands. The young male dragon who said that sounded wistful rather than angry.
Vorik didn’t point out that it wasn’t as easy as some might believe for Wreylith to fly through the barriers on the various islands.
He merely stood with his arms spread to look unthreatening while the dragons debated.
Or whatever this was. They seem to have gotten off track, and Jhiton looked at Vorik with an eyebrow raised.
Chieftess Marvola was back to eating from the nut-butter jar, watching raptly as she enjoyed the contents.
If you believe Wreylith is an enemy, Agrevlari said, it is only because you’ve chosen to make her one.
“You might want to stay out of this,” Vorik murmured to him.
Jhiton lifted his arms. Dragon allies, I beseech you to allow our kind to determine Vorik’s fate, and I remind you that we have not yet had our tribal meeting.
We await the arrival of a few more chiefs, and, even if Vorik now speaks for Wingborn, the future is far from decided.
Our people will not forget that dragons have been our allies for many generations and that their opinions matter greatly.
We invite you to listen in and contribute to the meeting as we decide how to go forward and obtain at least some of the islands for ourselves—and our allies.
Jhiton finished the talk by clenching his fists—his entire body. The tendons in his neck stood out, and the power that Vorik had sensed in him earlier returned, dark and dangerous. Vorik almost took a step back.
Ozlemar’s eyes, which had already been glowing, flared brighter. The black-dragon tattoo on Jhiton’s hand also glowed.
Vorik stared. His tattoo had never done that. He’d never seen any rider’s tattoo glow, not like the moon-mark on Syla’s hand.
As he had before, Jhiton seemed to rein in the strange power, to get whatever it was under control. The dragons must have sensed it though, just as Vorik had. Several of them had glanced at each other, and now they all looked toward Ozlemar.
We dragons, the orange male bonded to Chief Tenilor said, will have our own meeting, and we will let you know what we decide.
Unlike lesser dragons, we will not allow our ambitions to be deterred or our outlook swayed by lust for a female.
Ozlemar looked at Agrevlari and then down the line toward the young wistful male, who, wisely, did not retort.
I will remind you, Jhiton, that events have already been set into motion.
At least one of those islands will not return to Kingdom talons.
It is possible that none of them will, no matter what the human female does.
Without explaining further, Ozlemar turned and sprang off the bluff. The other dragons followed, soon banking to fly inland, over the forest to find a place for their meeting.
“What events is he talking about, Jhiton?” Vorik asked quietly, glancing at his brother’s hand.
The tattoo had stopped glowing, but it still struck Vorik as more ominous than it had before. And Jhiton’s gaze wasn’t warm when he turned to regard him.
“We will discuss it at the tribe meeting.” Jhiton walked back toward the cave, the onlookers parting to let him pass, then trailing after him.
Numerous people looked back at Vorik as they left, their expressions ranging from curious to hostile.
Nobody stayed behind to congratulate him, and he feared the way ahead would be as fraught as he’d suggested to Syla that it would be.
He doubted many of his people had wanted a new chief.
Even if they had, they hadn’t wanted it to be Vorik, not after the choices he’d made.
Have I made a mistake, Agrevlari? he asked silently.
Oh, many, yes. Agrevlari breathed hot air onto his shoulder and used the bottom of his jaw to buff his scales. You are fortunate that I continue to stand with you.
I am very fortunate. Thank you. Vorik took a step after the others but paused. Do you know what events Ozlemar spoke of?
Remember the dark clouds around the Island of Eliok? That reek of long-forgotten magic?
I remember the clouds but didn’t notice the reeking.
Human senses are so inferior. I don’t know exactly what went on in the caves around the volcano, but the dragons who were gathered there were powerful and were doing something for a long time. I suspect Ozlemar is referring to that.
Meaning the tribe meeting may be the least of my problems going forward?
That’s a safe assumption.
On the deck of the Fanged Whale, Syla paced back and forth in front of the weapons platform.
Aunt Tibby, Fel, and Wreylith had disappeared from view, and she kept wondering if she’d made a mistake by not going to the island with them.
But she also felt that she needed to remain by the weapons platform.
Though Wreylith hadn’t sensed any more dragons in the area, they couldn’t be positive that more wouldn’t show up.
Some of their enemies had to have been bolstered by the supernatural lightning strikes that had taken down a projectile—and almost killed Syla.
With those clouds still roiling overhead, the fleet would be vulnerable if any dragons returned.
Between those clouds and occasional flashes of lightning over the volcano, Syla couldn’t help but feel uneasy and worry about Fel and Tibby.
“Dragon dropping, Your Majesty?” Celena asked, coming up with a tray.
“Er, what?” Syla looked at the contents, a few dozen brown lumps with what looked like oats mixed in.
“That’s what I’m calling them. For the occasion and the company.” Celena peered in the direction of the volcano, though Wreylith was no longer in view. “My grammy taught me the recipe and called them no-bake-chocolate-oaty cookies, but my name is better, don’t you think?”
“It’ll certainly catch the attention of customers.” Thinking a little sugar might help replenish her reserves, Syla selected one. “Are you still thinking of opening a bakery?”
“Oh, that’s a silly dream, Your Majesty. I could never afford the cost of equipment and leasing a space, and I don’t know anything about running a business.” Celena looked wistfully at the tray.
A crewman walked past with his mouth full and chocolate smudged above his lip. He paused, glanced at them, then darted in and took what must have been a second cookie. Maybe a third. “Thanks, Celena. These are amazing!”
Syla bit into hers and was surprised by the delicious blend of warm flavors beyond the chocolate and oats that she’d expected. “Your dream might not be that silly.”
“You know what I do for a living, Your Majesty. I didn’t have much schooling, and that’s all I know.
I admit it’s not ideal to raise my children in the brothel, but…
like I said. It’s all I know. I’m not sure how I ended up out here.
” Her second look toward the volcano held unease. Understandably so.
“You made the mistake of volunteering to help me.” Syla didn’t actually know why Vonla had dragged Celena across the countryside instead of simply questioning her, but maybe they’d had to leave the city in a hurry.
She hoped a trusted colleague at the brothel was keeping an eye on Celena’s children. “Sorry about that.”
“Oh, I’m happy to help, Your Majesty. I wish I could be more useful.
” Celena swatted the hand of the crewman as he returned, wanting another cookie.
She did allow someone at his side, who apparently hadn’t had any, to take one.
“Supplies are limited. I had to scrounge in the mess cabinets to find enough to make these.”