Chapter 19
“We’ve got more than twenty ships with us,” Fel told Syla as they stood on the deck and the Fanged Whale sailed away from Harvest Island.
“A few more came in during the night to lend their support. If they stay loyal, now that they’ve seen us place the shielder, it may be enough to deter the vessels lurking in Sky Torn Harbor from attacking us.
They would be attacking their own allies, after all. ”
“It would be ideal if they allow us in unopposed,” Syla murmured.
“Do you have a plan for if they don’t?”
Syla should have been contemplating that and figuring out how she would take back the throne, but as they stood in the stern, she looked toward Harvest Island instead of toward Castle.
The dark clouds had not disappeared with the establishment of the barrier.
Instead, they had spread, hanging low across the entire island and stretching out over the surrounding waters.
Lightning continued to flash in their forbidding depths, and, even from a distance, Syla could sense the two powers clashing, almost as if the magical clouds were trapped and wanted to get out.
She still didn’t know what exactly they were dealing with but feared Teyla was right and those clouds had divine origins.
If so, what if they destroyed the barrier and kept spreading?
And what about all those who lived on Harvest Island?
In the weeks the barrier had been down, some refugees had transferred to Castle and other nearby islands, but others hadn’t.
Some people had hunkered down, determined to defend their orchards and farms and homes.
With lightning striking down all over the island now, they weren’t safe.
“Your Majesty?” Fel prompted. “We’re not that far from home.”
“I know. My plan is…” Syla extended a hand toward Wreylith.
She perched next to the wheelhouse instead of on top of it and was rubbing her scaled flank against a corner.
A few red scales lay on the deck underneath her.
She seemed to be molting or whatever the dragon equivalent was.
Syla didn’t know if that was normal for them or had to do with the pregnancy.
“As fearsome as she is…” Fel’s eyebrow twitched as the red dragon shifted to rub her back, like a bear scratching an itch against a tree. “I’m not sure how effective she’ll be for the precision maneuvering you must now do.”
“I thought blunt force might work with Lord Fograth and General Dolok.”
“You’ll have to find them first. Isn’t Fograth lying low?”
“That’s what I’ve heard, yes,” Syla said.
“But Dolok can’t be doing the same, not if he’s the one commanding the combined military forces.
And if he is, I’ll feel no qualms about unleashing Wreylith on him.
Someone has not only been sending out the fleet to hunt down our ships but has also ordered enforcers to capture moon-marked people. ”
Syla shifted her attention forward, telling herself that she needed to focus next on Castle Island and freeing those individuals.
For now, she would have to leave the clouds of Harvest Island behind and hope that, whatever the storm god ultimately planned to do, he would kindly keep them from being fully unleashed until after she’d reclaimed the throne.
Captain Vonla walked up with Major Hixun, the megaphone in his hand. He raised his eyebrows and offered it to Syla.
“Do you think I should address the rest of the fleet as soon as we sail into Sky Torn Harbor?” she guessed.
“Before they open fire on us, ideally.”
Syla accepted the megaphone. “I’m hoping that won’t happen since we have so many of their sister ships with us.”
None of them were veering off on the way back, something that bolstered Syla.
With luck, she had proven herself to the crews by doing what she’d promised.
That didn’t mean they would stay loyal once they were within earshot of their superior officers, but if she could take charge quickly enough, maybe…
“I’m hoping for that as well,” Hixun said, “but we should be ready for conflict.”
“Oh, I’m always ready for that these days.”
“We’re about to sail around the point,” Vonla said. “Will your dragon ally also be ready for conflict? Or is she going to continue… molting?”
“I think that’s shedding.” Hixun waved at the scales.
“I’m not sure what the proper terminology is.
” If Vorik had been there, Syla could have asked him, but she didn’t mention a longing for his company to her allies.
She also didn’t tell them that Wreylith was pregnant and this might have something to do with that.
Did dragons have hormones that fluctuated during that time and affected their scales? Syla had no idea.
When the Fanged Whale rounded the point and the castle and lighthouse on the bluff came into view, three Kingdom ships were sailing into Sky Torn Harbor ahead of them. At first, Syla assumed they were some of the vessels from Lyvor that hadn’t joined them.
But one of their borrowed crewmen from Bogberry Island called, “The warship in the lead is the Wave Cruiser. Lord Oyenar sails on it when he goes out on maneuvers.”
“Would he have come here in person for some reason?” Hixun wondered. “You’d think he would be busy trying to get his city and entire island back in order.”
“We’ll find out soon,” Syla said.
Since Oyenar had provided her with the ship she was sailing on after hers had sunk in the river, she believed him an ally—his wife had made it clear that she wanted him to be—so Syla wasn’t that concerned by his arrival, but she did wonder what he intended to do.
She hoped he wasn’t bringing bad news. She couldn’t handle any more of that.
As the Fanged Whale led the way into the harbor, where they found no fewer than thirty warships docked and anchored within its protected waters, the crewmen on the deck shifted uneasily.
Per Hixun’s orders, they were manning the cannons, and many crossbowmen held their weapons ready in case a battle started.
Crews were out on the decks of the warships ahead of them as well, some near weapons, but nobody had yet shouted orders to fire.
Hundreds of sets of eyes watched the approach of Syla’s fleet.
Though nervous, she climbed onto the wheelhouse and raised the megaphone to address them. The news about the shielder couldn’t have traveled to Castle Island yet, and she wanted to make sure everyone knew about it before deciding… whatever they would decide.
“Brave troops of the Garden Kingdom,” Syla called, “with the help of my engineering aunt, Lady Tibaytha, and my other allies, I’ve managed to return a working shielder to Harvest Island.
Dragons will no longer be able to attack our people in their own homes.
” She almost added that the ominous clouds might still be a threat but refrained, not wanting to suggest that she’d failed in some way.
The Fanged Whale was close enough to some of the warships ahead for her to see startled faces as crewmen looked at each other. And did some of their expressions shift from surprise to relief? Syla hoped so.
“In case you didn’t yet hear, we also defeated the stormer threat on Bogberry Island,” Syla continued, trusting that Dolok and Fograth hadn’t been quick to share news of events that might shine a positive light on her—by the eyes of the moon, they were probably still telling people she was dead.
“We ensured that no enemies will ever threaten the shielder there again.”
On the docked warships, a few cheers went up at the news, though superior officers rushed around the decks and quashed any cries that grew too enthusiastic.
Even if the troops were relieved, they probably wanted to wait and see if Syla was able to reclaim that throne before throwing any support behind her.
If she failed, they could be punished for that.
That was fine. Syla planned to do this on her own anyway.
Ah, but was that Lord Oyenar who’d come out onto the deck of his ship?
He wore a Fleet uniform, so she hadn’t recognized him at first, but that was his white hair and bushy eyebrows, as well as a paunch that made the buttons tight across his abdomen.
It didn’t look like he’d worn that uniform for some time.
Since he’d retired years earlier to become an island lord, she was surprised he was here and wearing it at all.
“We don’t know if the stormer threat is completely gone,” Syla called through the megaphone, “so please stand ready in case we need to sail out as a united fleet to ensure the Kingdom remains safe going forward.”
“Stormer threat or strange black-cloud threat?” Teyla asked as Syla climbed down from the wheelhouse.
“We’ll see. I’m not sure either threat has truly been vanquished.”
Fel, Teyla, and Aunt Tibby had come topside during Syla’s brief speech, bringing their packs with them. Teyla also wore her sword belt.
“Ready to storm the castle?” Syla asked her cousin.
“That’s your job.” Teyla pointed to her and also at Wreylith, who was now scratching her tail and had left a few more scales on the deck. “I do want to talk to you about something if you have a minute.”
Syla nodded and joined her cousin in a relatively private spot along the railing. The Fanged Whale was sailing toward a couple of open slots along the docks, with Oyenar’s ship maneuvering to slide in ahead of them.
“I thought you should know that people are talking.” Teyla waved toward crewmen on their deck and also on nearby ships.
“About… me?”
“You’re a fascinating subject to discuss, yes.”
“For more reasons than because my dragon is molting, I suppose.” Syla didn’t want to be the subject of discussions, but that was inevitable these days.
Teyla leaned around her to peer at Wreylith. “Do you think her scales are magical? And would make a nice souvenir? Or maybe an addition to a museum? If you survive and reclaim your throne, you’re going to be historically significant, you know. And, of course, your dragon ally will be too.”