Chapter 17
Cold rain fell, and wind gusted across the slope of the volcano.
Full darkness smothered the island when they landed, but Syla could make out the clouds roiling above, and every time lightning flashed, it brightened the terrain enough to see in detail.
Even though Syla had previously visited the tunnel that led back to the shielder chamber, the landscape had changed drastically.
It had probably just changed during that extended lightning strike.
Nearby, a chasm had opened, stretching from the rim of the volcano to the cliffs overlooking the sea two miles away.
Upheaval in the ground had thrust up piles of rock in some places while, elsewhere, sinkholes cratered the earth, making walking treacherous.
It took Syla a long moment—and numerous lightning flashes—before she was certain where the tunnel entrance was. No, where it had been.
Her gut clenched, and she tightened her grip on her medical kit. The entrance had collapsed. If it had collapsed all the way back, was there any hope that Fel and Tibby had survived?
“Yes,” she told herself. “As long as they were in the shielder chamber, that would have been protected.”
Despite the firm assertion, she looked at Teyla, hoping for confirmation.
Her cousin, who probably hadn’t been here before, was peering uneasily around the landscape and also eyeing the lightning flashes.
With no trees growing on the rocky slope of the volcano, there wasn’t any protection.
Now that they were right under the phenomenon, Syla could sense magic in the air.
Malevolent magic. Teyla probably felt it too.
“Do you regret coming?” Syla asked.
“Not yet. After I get hit by lightning, I might. I think they could be protected down there, yes, but they may be trapped.”
Syla pointed at what had once been the entrance.
“They’re definitely trapped,” Teyla said. “You should have brought explosives.”
“I don’t think Aunt Tibby has had time to make more.”
“Maybe you should learn to use your power to make them.” Teyla waved at Syla’s hand.
“I don’t have the engineering knowledge.
” Syla walked over the rockfall, trying to sense Tibby through her moon-mark, but she could only sense Wreylith, the dragon’s power far greater—and more noticeable—than that of a human.
“Or maybe it’s chemistry knowledge that’s needed to know what mundane materials to mix with magic and how.
Tibby’s explosives are more sophisticated than anything made with black powder. ”
“Given how your queenhood is going so far, maybe you should learn chemistry and what things to mix together to blow up usurpers and other threats.”
“I can’t argue against that. I have gotten more versatile with my magic. These past few days, I’ve been working on putting it into my tinctures and salves to give them extra healing power.”
“How is that versatile? That’s more of what you already do.”
“No, I heal people.” Syla poked around the rock pile while she spoke, searching for gaps that might hint of a way in. “This is creating salves to heal people.”
“Explosives may be beyond you.”
“I think so, yes.” Not finding any openings, Syla slung her medical kit over her shoulder on its strap and walked farther up the slope.
She tried not to feel like her weight might be adding to that burying Fel and Tibby. She reminded herself that they were likely in the shielder chamber. And if they weren’t… her weight wouldn’t matter next to the tons of rocks.
I sense that the moon-marked one lives. Wreylith shook rain droplets from her wings and glowered up at the clouds, baring her fangs toward them. The dragon hadn’t yet taken off, despite Syla’s promise that she could depart.
“Thank the gods,” Syla said.
Not all the gods, Wreylith said as Teyla raised her eyebrows.
“Wreylith says they’re alive. And they’re under here, right?” Syla looked toward the dragon.
Wreylith took a few hops farther up the slope, then walked about, her head tilted toward the ground, as if she were listening. Maybe she was using that sense as well as her ability to detect magic.
How are your ear canals? Syla asked.
Stay away from me with your slimy salves.
A soothing formula might feel good if they’ve been damaged. And something unctuous might even insulate them if there’s more loud noise.
This time, Wreylith bared her fangs at Syla.
“Did your dragon just hiss?” Teyla asked.
“I think so, but don’t be alarmed. It was directed at me, not you.”
“I’m standing next to you. If you’re drawing a dragon’s ire, I’m absolutely alarmed.”
“She doesn’t like the viscosity of some of my medicinal salves.” Undeterred, Syla navigated around boulders and over scree to join Wreylith, who’d stopped moving.
The dragon flexed her talons over the ground. It is difficult to pinpoint her location, but I believe the moon-marked one is below here. I can also faintly detect the artifact that she made, but it has not yet been activated, so its signature is weak, and it’s also muffled.
Good. That must mean they’re in the chamber. It insulates the magic of the shielders so enemies can’t detect them easily.
Yes. It is surprising I can sense anything. Perhaps the door was open when the lightning struck.
Syla bit her lip, hoping that didn’t mean that rocks had tumbled inside, enough rocks to hurt Tibby and Fel.
“We need to get in there.” Syla switched to speaking aloud since Teyla had joined her. “Wreylith, do you have a way to excavate these boulders?”
Excavate? I am a dragon, not a digging tool.
“Yes, but your jaws are large, and you’re very strong.
I’ve seen you pluck up humans and fling them about.
Couldn’t you do the same with these boulders?
And then the ground underneath…” Syla paused, realizing the rock above the shielder chamber would be solid, not loose.
Removing that would take more than a few lifts and flings.
“Can dragon fire split rock? Or, uhm, incinerate it? Or does rock melt? Like ore?” Syla looked at Teyla.
“That’s not the kind of information I expected you to need when I volunteered my expertise and to come along.”
“The ruins left behind by ancient civilizations don’t illuminate you on such matters?”
“The Hazondi ruins in Southern Droha have a carving of a blacksmith forging a copper bracelet. Nothing about rocks though.”
Rocks do melt at various temperatures, Wreylith stated. We are standing on a volcano. What do you think magma is?
“Molten rock?” Syla asked.
Precisely. And prolonged exposure to dragon fire can melt rock, yes, but it’s easier to keep a stream of flames flowing for long enough to raise its core temperature if another dragon is assisting and they can take turns. We breathe the fire, which means we have to inhale and exhale.
“It’s too bad Agrevlari isn’t here,” Syla said.
Wreylith exhaled in a way that smoke wafted from one of her nostrils.
“Are you warming up to try or irritated that I brought him up?”
I would accept his help if he were here. Let me attempt to move the rocks first. That chasm and the other cracks suggest this whole area was loosened. Stand back.
“All right.” Syla scooted back. “Thank you, Wreylith.”
“I don’t think you’d want to melt the rock surrounding Fel and Tibby anyway.” Teyla joined her in scooting back. “That sounds like a way to roast humans. Especially if the door to the chamber is open. You’d turn the whole area into an oven.”
“Good point.”
Lightning flashed, striking down twenty feet away. Rock shards flew, pelting down on the wet ground all around. Even Wreylith jumped.
“I feel so vulnerable out here.” Syla looked around, but there was nowhere to take cover. “Especially if you’re right, and if a god is somehow directing the lightning bolts.”
“So far,” Teyla said as Wreylith chucked the first boulder away, “the lightning strikes have either seemed random or drawn by magical energy.”
“Does that mean you don’t think the storm god is guiding them?” Syla wiped rain droplets from her spectacles.
“I’m hoping that’s the case. We’d better not do anything to attract lightning.
” Teyla eyed her moon-mark. Wondering if the magic within them might be enough to bring the lightning?
If that were true, the dragons would have been targets for it too.
Of course, their kind might be protected.
The storm god presumably wouldn’t have wanted to destroy his own creations.
“That’s always sound advice.” Syla eyed her medical kit, thinking of the magic she’d infused into some of her salves.
She’d poured quite a bit into a jar of burn ointment, but small magical substances wouldn’t be enough to draw lightning, would they?
“Hopefully not,” she murmured to herself.
“They’re in glass jars, and glass doesn’t attract lightning, anyway. ”
Syla had no idea if that would matter, but she was reluctant to set down her medical kit and risk losing it. If they found Fel and Tibby, they would likely need medical attention.
As Wreylith threw more boulders aside, Syla groped for a way to help. The dragon growled with each toss, either because of the effort required or because she was irritated by the lowly task.
Thank you for your help, Syla told her. If you like, I can try to make healing salves that are especially suited to dragons and have less viscosity. Since you seem not to care for, er, anything with a slime-like texture.
Wreylith threw a boulder the size of an elephant.
“She’s strong,” Teyla observed.
“Oh, yes.”
Do not worry about special salves for dragons. We are a mighty species and not in need of such things.
I’ll start work on the project as soon as we’re able to settle down.
Good.