Chapter 22
Vorik drew his sword as two more dragons slipped through the hole in the barrier. He couldn’t see or sense it, but they clearly could.
Surprisingly, Syla stood still with her chin on her fist. A moment earlier, she’d hopped onto the weapons platform, placing her hands on the posts, but she’d soon dropped them and stepped back, her expression bleak.
“You’re going to have to put that thing to use.” Vorik pointed his sword at it, hating that more dragons would be killed, but if they’d summoned the storm god, they’d brought this upon themselves.
“I can’t. It’s out of energy.”
“Out of energy?” Vorik mouthed.
“There’s a reservoir in here.” Syla tapped her foot against the platform she stood upon. “And it’s been gradually depleting over the course of the various battles. I thought there was a little energy left, but I’m not able to send out another projectile.”
Fel, who stood beside Syla with his mace in hand, cursed.
A week earlier, Vorik would have rejoiced to hear that the powerful weapon was out of commission, but now… as more dragons found the hole in the barrier and swooped through it, he groaned with dread. They would target Syla, and he couldn’t defend her against so many.
Wreylith roared and sprang into the air. No doubt, she would try to keep them from reaching Syla, but she couldn’t defend against such numbers either.
“The storm god is sending the lightning,” Syla said slowly, as if she were thinking something out, “so it’s not natural, right? It’s magical.”
“I’m not sure about the lightning,” Vorik said, “but I’ve been able to sense magic in those clouds.”
One of the dragons flew at the castle, breathing fire. Cannons boomed from the courtyard walls, and crossbowmen ran out of the towers, but their weapons wouldn’t be strong enough to defeat the aerial invaders.
Agrevlari? Vorik asked. Is there any chance you can sneak through the hole and get me? I can’t do much from the deck of a ship.
Those who were once my brothers have declared me an enemy.
I know, but sneak through anyway. Please. I need you. The dragons that have flown in are going to figure out soon that the weapons platform isn’t a threat, and they’re going to come for a visit.
You are a very needy human.
Yes, I am. Bring Igliana if she’ll come. Vorik didn’t ask about Atilya and her dragon—it had sounded like Venvarlorin had already decided that he wouldn’t join in the battle.
She and Venvarlorin went to the Island of Eliok to see if anything might be done at the volcano where the ritual was performed but found the barrier is back in place.
Well, the one here has a lovely hole in it. Tell them about it.
“My medical kit.” Syla snapped her fingers. “Where did I put it?”
“We’ll need that soon.” Fel hefted his mace. Two dragons were arrowing toward the ship—toward Syla and the weapons platform.
One was a gray without a rider, but the other was the yellow that Lesva had talked into carrying her. Wreylith flew toward the gray and roared. They engaged fifty feet above the ship, jaws snapping and talons slashing, but the yellow kept coming, wings folded in for a dive.
Vorik sprang atop the canopy of the weapons platform, risking the thing’s ire to better defend Syla. Lesva lifted her sword, but it was her dragon that delivered the first blow. Its great maw opened, and fire spewed toward the ship.
“Look out!” Vorik called down to Syla.
As he jumped out of the way, flames scorching the air, he threw a gargoyle-bone dagger.
It struck the dragon’s cheek instead of the eye he’d targeted, but it lodged between scales and was enough to make the fire cease and the dragon screech.
As it flew over the ship, Lesva threw a knife at Vorik.
He rolled to the side, barely avoiding it.
He might not have but another dragon swooping in from the side made the yellow twitch.
“Agrevlari!” Vorik yelled in relief as he leaped to his feet.
The green dragon crashed into the yellow, knocking it and Lesva away from the ship.
I was already on my way through the hole when you requested my presence. Agrevlari sounded smug.
Because you’re a wonderful dragon.
Yes.
And you wanted to help Wreylith too, I assume.
She is with eggs!
Wreylith must have defeated the gray, because she roared and dove for the neck of the yellow dragon. As she and Agrevlari teamed up on their foe, Lesva twisted and had to leap into the water.
Vorik looked around for Syla to make sure none of the flames had caught her. When he didn’t see her on deck, he swore with concern. Fel was looking for her too. Had she been knocked over the railing?
No, she ran back out on deck with her medical kit clutched in her hands. “I hope I’ve got enough left.”
“Enough what?” Vorik asked as Agrevlari extricated himself from the battle to bank and fly toward the ship. “And for what?”
Without answering, Syla dug into the contents and pulled out an unassuming jar.
You will ride me, yes? Agrevlari asked when Vorik didn’t leap up to catch his leg and swing himself onto his back. We can stay close and defend the ship.
Yes, but I’m trying to figure out what Syla is doing.
She appeared to be applying whatever was in the jar to the stout marble posts. She also smeared some onto the platform and, as if it were oil to be rubbed in, spread it all around.
The ways of females are inscrutable, Agrevlari said.
Wreylith roared as she chased after the now-fleeing yellow dragon. They flew upward into clouds that were descending lower and lower, making the harbor hazy, as if a dark fog had drifted in.
Not usually that inscrutable, Vorik replied.
“I don’t know if this will work,” Syla said as she continued to smear the substance around, “but it’s all I can think to try.
The last time lightning struck the platform, it didn’t do anything to the reservoir, but maybe if the strike were extended, if something magical could draw on it to continue… ”
“Do you need help?” Vorik didn’t know exactly what she was plotting, but he was here for her.
“Try to buy me some time, please.” Syla glanced toward the barrier—the hole above the destroyed lighthouse—though it had grown difficult to see that far in the haze. Lightning continued to flash, but it barely lit the area. It was as if night had come early to Castle Island.
Ozlemar and Jhiton found the hole, and the big dragon flew through. Jhiton looked straight at the ship—at Syla. And were his eyes glowing? Maybe it was the light. They had a weird glint though. Poor Jhiton. He didn’t deserve this.
Swing by again, Agrevlari.
“Is that your brother?” Syla dug the last of her substance out of the jar and climbed onto the platform to apply it to the top. “And are his eyes glowing?”
“He’s not himself. Stay under cover.”
This time, when Agrevlari soared low over the deck of the ship, Vorik sprang into the air so he could catch a limb and climb onto the dragon’s back.
The crews of the Fanged Whale and surrounding warships had been startled by the unexpected invasion of their harbor and had been slow to react, but cannons boomed now, coming from the vessels as well as the castle and watchtowers.
Agrevlari had to dip and dance to avoid friendly fire.
Syla needs us to buy time, Vorik told him.
He spotted Lesva in the water, clinging to a piece of wreckage.
Blood dripped down the side of her face, and she looked dazed.
Since she could—and would—recover quickly, it crossed his mind to ask Agrevlari to dive down and breathe fire on her, or let Vorik get close enough to swing with his sword, but the idea of attacking someone wounded in the water did not appeal to his honor.
Not that she couldn’t dive and avoid both threats…
Ozlemar is aiming for your queen, Agrevlari warned.
That drew Vorik’s attention from Lesva. As he looked up to locate the threat, lightning flashed, and a jagged branch slammed into the bluff under the castle.
The vertical rock face was about where Vorik, Jhiton, and other stormers had exited the passageway they’d created to the mad god’s abandoned laboratory.
Syla had said access to the nearby tunnels had been blocked and that one couldn’t get in that way again, but what if the lightning blew away a bunch of rocks?
That hit had been so precisely in that area that it made Vorik wonder if an intelligence had guided it.
Did the storm god want to open access to those tunnels again? To his old laboratory?
Ozlemar descended toward the Fanged Whale, and Agrevlari flew upward to intercept him, leaving Vorik no more time to muse about the bluff. He gripped his sword and met Jhiton’s eyes, his glowing inhuman eyes. Yes, there was definitely an intelligence involved here.
As more lightning branched down, striking buildings in the city and masts in the harbor, Vorik had no doubt of that. Sword in hand, he prepared to battle his brother again as Agrevlari and Ozlemar clashed.
There were dragons everywhere. Cannons boomed, lightning struck all around, and fire streamed through the cloudy haze, flames erupting on ships, docks, and buildings.
From the deck of the Fanged Whale, Syla shouted in frustration at the sky.
When she’d used her magical ointment on that dragon, it had drawn a lightning strike almost immediately.
She had no idea if her plan would work, if it was possible for magical lightning to recharge the reservoir of the weapons platform, but it was all she could think of that might.
She’d spread it liberally on the reservoir, hoping that a direct strike would be more effective than the random blast at Harvest Island that had nearly killed her.
Remembering that she’d also willed some of her power into the ointment when she’d applied it to the dragon, Syla leaned her hand against a post and tried to do that again.