Chapter 21 #2
“That’s not that many people.” Syla looked at him.
She didn’t want to make an accusation, but he was the only person who’d been around her when all three bodies had been discovered.
No, that wasn’t quite true. He’d been on Harvest Island when Ravoran had been killed.
He couldn’t have been responsible. Her mind circled back to Teyla, but she’d also gone to Harvest Island with her.
Admittedly, Ravoran could have been killed earlier, before Teyla and Syla had gone over to join Fel and Tibby.
Was her cousin trying to end the threats to Syla?
She rubbed her face. Even if Teyla prided herself on learning swordsmanship, it was hard to imagine the academic and cheerful woman murdering people. “Where is Teyla now?”
“She said something about looking for her brother, Relvin.”
“Do you think it’s possible she had time to do this when you arrived?”
Even if Teyla had had time, why would she have charged into the barracks and singled out Mosworth?
Syla thought of her conversation with General Dolok and the implication that the colonel had carried out the writing of the assassination orders, but would Teyla have known that? Maybe. She’d been in the capital while Syla had been at sea.
Fel shrugged. “Do you want me to go find her?”
Something in his neutral tone and the gesture made Syla hesitate to answer. He didn’t sound like he wanted to go find her.
“Whoever’s doing this is doing you a favor,” Fel added quietly.
“Murder isn’t a favor. It’s a crime.”
“They’ve all been your enemies, either openly declared or through their actions.”
“Fel.” Syla groaned and bent over to grip her knees. She didn’t want to confront her cousin and accuse her of murder, but she also didn’t want to condone this.
“If your dragon had eaten your enemies, would you call that murder?” Fel added.
“That’s not—”
Agrevlari approaches and is speaking to me, Wreylith stated from the courtyard.
He’s not joining the others, is he?
No, he nears Castle Island with his rider.
Vorik. Relief filled Syla at the knowledge that he was alive. If he’d challenged his chieftess for leadership, he’d survived.
Yes. He says Vorik needs to speak with you and wants to know if he can swim through the barrier and come up to the castle.
I dearly want to hear whatever intelligence he has to give me.
Will you go retrieve him at the barrier so he doesn’t have to swim?
No, wait. I need to try something on the weapons platform first. Syla had promised she would pray to the gods for help, and if there was any chance that would work, she had better try sooner rather than later.
Will you take me to the Fanged Whale, then pick up Vorik and bring him to me?
Yes.
You’re an excellent dragon.
Obviously.
“Syla?” Fel prompted.
“I need to go to the weapons platform.” Syla didn’t mention praying, since a man of action such as Fel might not think it an appropriate time for that.
Besides, she didn’t know if anything would come of it.
“Wreylith says the stormer dragons have returned and are heading to Harvest Island to… I don’t know what.
Commune with their god. Or join forces with him.
Either way, I need to be ready at the weapons platform. ”
“What about Teyla?”
“Let’s leave her be for now. Later… if we all survive until tomorrow, we can figure out the rest then.
Gather some men you can trust, though, and be ready to search the tunnels.
From what Dolok said, I’m guessing Fograth might be down there.
” Syla debated if locating him and getting her throne back should fall into the figure out the rest later category. “If you find him, arrest him.”
“You should have a guard with you on the ship, especially if you’re going to use the weapons platform and be out in the open.”
“I’ll have Wreylith with me. And—” Syla brightened, “—Vorik.”
Fel issued something between a grunt and a growl. “I’m going with you. Not all of your enemies have been killed.”
She grimaced, glancing at Mosworth. While she hadn’t had any love for the man—especially if he’d sent assassins after her—she wouldn’t have desired this fate for him. For any of them.
In the hallway, a soldier jogged past the doorway, and Captain Vonla stepped into the office. She grimaced when she looked at Mosworth’s body but saluted and reported to Syla. “I received news that many dragons were sighted flying toward Harvest Island, Your Majesty.”
“I know. Thank you.”
“Should we do anything? The clouds are also spreading and coming this way.”
“I know about them too. I’m going to the weapons platform in case it can help us deal with the threat. All the threats.”
If only there were more magical energy left in its reservoir…
Syla looked at Fel. “Would you rather I assign her to the tunnels so you can come with me?”
She thought she would be safe with Wreylith and Vorik but didn’t object to Fel coming to watch her back while she operated the weapons platform.
“If that scheming lord is down there,” Fel said, “he’ll have troops with him. Maybe a lot of troops.”
“I know how to handle such people,” Vonla said dryly.
Syla nodded. The captain was more than capable.
Fel considered her, then also nodded. “Let her handle Fograth then. I’ll protect you, Your Majesty. The dragons will target you. The storm god might too.”
“Lucky me,” Syla murmured, then gave Vonla orders to gather trusted men and look for Fograth and whoever else might be skulking in the tunnels with him. It was possible nobody was down there, but it seemed a more likely spot than others.
In the courtyard, Wreylith plucked up Syla and Fel.
The sun had disappeared behind dark clouds that now covered the island.
Syla peered at the sky in all directions as they flew toward the harbor.
The north remained clear but little else did.
Like a tarp being unrolled outward from Harvest Island, the ominous clouds now stretched for miles.
Lightning flashed in the sky near the lighthouse. Syla hoped General Dolok hadn’t stayed out on that platform.
I can see Agrevlari, Wreylith said. I will place you on the ship, then meet him at the barrier.
For smooches and proclamations of love?
Dragons do not smooch.
But they proclaim, certainly.
When a dragon is teased, she is less likely to lower her rider gently to the deck of her ship.
Don’t forget you need me for the delivery of your eggs.
A dragon does not need a human for a natural act.
But you want me there. Presumably alive.
Wreylith descended, alighting on the wheelhouse long enough for Syla and Fel to slide off. On the deck, Major Hixun waved with relief.
As Wreylith took off to pick up Vorik, Hixun jogged up to Syla. She hoped nobody else had been killed.
He pointed at the sky. “Your Majesty, is the barrier going to protect us? Lightning is starting to strike down in the sea along the coastline.”
“I…” Syla tried to remember if lightning had hit the ground after they’d raised the Harvest Island barrier. Probably. “I wouldn’t assume we’re safe.”
“I was afraid of that.”
Fel also pointed upward at dragons coming into view against the dark sky.
“Those must be the ones Wreylith warned me about.” Syla removed her spectacles, wiped them, and put them back on to try to determine if she recognized any of them.
Some had riders; some did not. A large black one…
did. Was that Ozlemar and General Jhiton?
A vibrant yellow dragon flew next to him, also with a rider, one with silver hair.
“By the gods, will nothing kill that woman?”
Since she’d seen Lesva swim away from them in the mine, Syla wasn’t surprised that she’d turned up again. Disgruntled and frustrated, maybe, but not surprised.
“I thought you didn’t want people killed,” Fel said.
“As a healer, I shouldn’t, but I might be less distraught than I should be if we stumbled across her with a cut throat.”
“I would happily do it myself.”
Syla looked at him.
“I’m not a healer,” Fel said simply.
“You’d better drive the dragons off with the platform, Your Majesty.” Hixun pointed at it.
“I did come to use it, but I’m hoping we’ll be safe from the dragons as long as the shield is up.” She didn’t mention the nearly depleted reservoir and how she worried there weren’t many shots left.
“Can you shoot through the barrier?” Hixun asked. “It would be best to take the dragons out if at all possible. They can’t be up to anything good.”
“No, but they may not yet know the Harvest Island barrier is back up. If there’s no place for them to land, they won’t linger in the area.
” Syla jogged to the weapons platform and climbed on, resting her palms against the marks on the posts.
An image came to her immediately of the reservoir, again showing how little magical energy remained within. “I’m just here to pray,” she murmured.
That was something she’d usually done in the temple while kneeling before a candle, or from a dying patient’s bedside, never expecting an answer.
But she needed one now, at least some kind of response, something to indicate the gods—the friendly gods—were paying attention and could help with the storm god.
She willed her power into the posts, trying to send her thoughts toward the heavens and also into the weapons platform, to wake the essence she’d sometimes sensed within it.
Dragons have called the storm god back to this world, and I’m afraid he’s a grave threat to humanity.
Is there a way that the gods who oppose his ways can assist us?
The voice that had spoken to her before in the desert laboratory sounded in her mind. Protect humanity. We never meant for this to be, for our children to be threatened by his creations. Use this power to defeat him.
Syla’s heart sank. They were the same words that she’d heard before, as if they were an old message being read from a scroll.