Chapter 24 #3
“Is he going to be your prisoner?” Fel asked, an eyebrow arching.
Vorik laughed, recalling how many times Syla had classified him as that.
“No. He’s…” Syla looked at Jhiton, then at Vorik.
Vorik raised his own eyebrows, not sure what he could presume to request. He didn’t even know what his status was to be here in the Kingdom yet.
“The military representative of the stormer chief who is here for diplomatic purposes,” Syla decided on.
Fel looked balefully at her. “That means we can’t put him in a dungeon cell.”
“That’s right, Sergeant. Ask the chamberlain to have a room prepared for him, please.”
“With guards, right?” Fel asked.
“That won’t be necessary. He’s given me his word that he won’t attack me or the Kingdom at this time.” Syla lifted her chin, meeting Jhiton’s eyes.
Jhiton held her gaze and inclined his head once before turning to follow the soldiers out.
“He still likes you,” Vorik said, grinning again and not surprised that Syla had finagled Jhiton’s word out of him.
“He’s still loathsome.”
“Even though he’s trying to set us up to get married?
” Vorik wasn’t sure whether to be pleased that Jhiton had been the one to suggest that.
It didn’t seem proper. The stormer tradition was to either sing one of the joining songs or to compose a ballad of one’s own to serenade the woman with while requesting that she mate with him.
Vorik would still do that, and admitted it would be a relief to know the answer ahead of time, but this wasn’t how such things traditionally went. “You said you approve of that, right?”
“I do.” Syla clasped Vorik’s hand. “Despite the dubiousness of the originator of the idea.”
“Now that we’re alone, perhaps we could celebrate our victories today.” He recalled that she’d lost people and amended his words. “Or at least that we survived the day.”
A clunk sounded in the rear of the cavern, a rock knocked to the side. The dragons were walking around together, poking their snouts into nooks, drawn to investigate the space for some reason.
“We’re not entirely alone,” Syla said.
“True. Someplace where we could have complete privacy might be more ideal. Did your castle survive this cliff being pummeled by magical projectiles?”
“From what I’ve heard, yes. Fortunately, save for the projectile that almost incinerated your brother, they only blew open the area around the entrance to that passageway.
” Syla waved to the darkness beyond the dragons.
“I suppose that’s one more reason that I’ll have to work with Aunt Tibby to find a new and less exposed place for the shielder. ”
Vorik opened his mouth to reply, but Agrevlari spoke into his mind.
I have a problem, Vorik.
Wreylith is talking to you, and did I just see her tail touch yours? What could possibly be perturbing you?
Her tail touches have been delightful, and I appreciate that she’s let me share my opinions on the suitability of this cave, but the gods repaired the shield around the island before they left.
Suitability for what? Vorik asked before the ramifications sunk in. Oh, that means you’re stuck here.
Wreylith could come and go because she was bonded to the queen of the Kingdom, but Agrevlari… His bond with Vorik would convey no such special privilege. If anything, he was lucky the barrier hadn’t zapped him as soon as the gods had repaired it.
She has been seeking an appropriate domicile on the queen’s island, a safe and suitable place to lay her eggs, Agrevlari said.
I suppose now that the entrance has been widened, this is a decent size for a dragon mother.
Vorik gazed upward, more concerned about how he would help his faithful ally escape eternal imprisonment than about Wreylith’s upcoming clutch.
He did have a bemused moment as he imagined dragons hatching right under the castle and growing and learning to fly around the harbor and the capital city.
Maybe Syla was receiving similar news from Wreylith because her jaw had sagged open. And had her face gone a touch pale?
It is of a good size, yes, Agrevlari said as Wreylith wandered into the main laboratory, pausing to glower at a wyvern statue.
“But do you want to lay your eggs and raise them here?” Syla asked aloud. “In the former workspace of a mad god?”
Yes, Wreylith must indeed have delivered the news to her. Syla looked at Vorik as if he might have a suggestion. Maybe she was also envisioning alarmed people gaping at hatchlings flying throughout the area.
“There are evil artifacts all over the place,” Syla added. “They might negatively impact your young as they grow.”
Wreylith shifted, and power surged from her as she smashed her tail down on the artifact that had hurled out dangerous purple bolts of energy earlier. Syla skittered back as shards tinked to the stone ground. Wreylith’s strength and magic had been enough to destroy the artifact.
A few renovations will be required, the dragon stated.
Agrevlari walked up beside her, opened his maw, and chomped down on the head of one of the wyvern statues. The stone broke, pulverized pieces tumbling to the ground.
Syla stared.
That improves the view, Wreylith said with approval.
“I guess I’m glad they’re getting along now,” Syla murmured, though she still looked dazed at the revelation that her bonded dragon had finally selected a cave—directly below the royal suite in her castle.
“They’d better get along,” Vorik said. “If we’re right about the hole in the shield being repaired, Agrevlari is stuck in here.”
“Ah. I hadn’t thought about that.”
“Unless he raids your farms for livestock, which I assume will be frowned upon, it’s going to make it hard for him to go out and hunt for Wreylith while she’s nesting.”
“Did she ask him to do that?” Syla’s skeptical expression suggested she knew Wreylith wouldn’t ask anyone for anything.
“I believe he was going to volunteer,” Vorik said as Agrevlari demolished another wyvern statue. “He wants to be involved in caring for her and the hatchlings, I understand. Also, he’s hoping she’ll let him name the males.”
“Does he have names picked out?”
“He’s musing at this point. He asked me for suggestions.”
“Nothing that rhymes with spectacles, I hope.”
Vorik grinned. “I don’t think he’d consider those rhymes appropriate.”
“Wreylith wouldn’t.”
“No.”
A rumble came from one of the dragons. Or maybe both of them? Were they growling at each other with plans to fight about something?
No, their tails were still touching, so Vorik realized…
“We may want to give them some privacy.” He tapped Syla on the back and nodded toward the exit tunnel.
She set the tea mug on a workstation, then let him guide her toward the tunnel as more growls emanated from the dragons. Now, the tips of their tails were intertwined.
“Are they…” she started, looking over her shoulder.
“Going to make this officially Wreylith’s cave now? I think so.”
“I thought they were concerned about whether Agrevlari would be able to leave the island.”
“It’s possible he won’t remember to be concerned about that until tomorrow morning. Or tomorrow night. Dragons have vast stamina, you know.”
“I seem to recall that from the desert, yes.” Syla quickened her pace.