Chapter 25
After leaving the laboratory and passing through the alcove of tombs, Syla stopped sooner than Vorik expected.
Her bodyguard and most of the soldiers had escorted Jhiton and Teyla—presumably mostly Jhiton—out of the tunnels, but the two who’d been tasked with guarding the hidden door to the shielder chamber remained.
“You two can go up to the castle.” Syla tilted her thumb back toward the laboratory. “Nobody is going to come in from that direction right now.”
One of the dragons roared. Vorik could tell it had nothing to do with battle, but the soldiers’ eyes widened with concern.
“Wreylith is claiming the laboratory for her new cave,” Syla added, not mentioning Agrevlari or what was about to go on in that cave. “She won’t let anyone pass.”
“The red dragon, Your Majesty? She’s magnificent.”
“Yes, she is.”
One of the dragons roared again, and the soldiers hurried away. They might believe a dragon magnificent, but that didn’t mean they wanted a duty station that was adjacent to one’s cave.
Vorik expected Syla to follow after the men, but she paused and touched her fingers to the wall with a thoughtful expression on her face.
“When I first came here after bonding with Wreylith, she was able to fly through the shield without trouble, but we had some difficulties on Bogberry Island.”
“I remember,” Vorik said.
“Eventually, I was able to communicate with the shielder there and convey that she should be given access.”
“You spoke to an ancient artifact of the gods? And it spoke back?” Maybe Vorik shouldn’t have been surprised since she’d just been visited by the gods.
“Something like that. I wonder if there’s any way we could get permission for Agrevlari to come and go.”
“He’s not bonded to you in any way, and I’m… I doubt your shielder thinks much of me. If it’s met your weapons platform, it definitely doesn’t think much of me.”
He’d meant the words as a joke, but Syla turned her thoughtful expression toward him. “I’m not sure about that.”
“I tried to blow it up.”
“Well, I doubt it approved of that, but, a couple of times while interacting with it, I’ve received visions that had you in them.”
“Were they like the time you visited me in my cave, and I thought it was a dream, but it was…” Vorik spread his hand, not sure what it had been exactly. “Something else.”
“Yes. Then another time it showed me your face. It knows who you are.”
“Comforting.”
Syla twitched a shoulder. “Let’s see if the shielder wants to chat.”
“Chat,” Vorik mouthed as she rested her moon-marked hand on the wall to open the door.
“The shielder artifacts have a sentience too. They may all be linked. Who knows?”
Vorik did not, but he followed her into the tunnel and eventually the catacomb that held numerous ancient sarcophagi as well as the giant silver-glowing orb that was the shielder.
It touched him that Syla would walk in here now with only him, trusting that he didn’t have anything nefarious planned.
Of course, if he lost his mind—or was possessed by a god—and tried to destroy the shielder, she wasn’t without the power to thwart him.
And if the gods themselves were keeping an eye on her, that would make her even more difficult for enemies to defeat.
The thought made him look back to make sure Jhiton wasn’t lurking in the tunnel. Since Vorik hadn’t been awake to hear the deal they’d struck, he didn’t yet know if his brother was truly done attacking the Kingdom. Later, he would get the details from Jhiton.
The magical door had already swung shut, leaving them alone with only the silver glow of the artifact to illuminate the way.
When Syla stopped in front of the shielder, that glow bathed her face like moonlight, making her appear like a goddess herself, though it also reflected off the lenses of her spectacles, and Vorik smiled at the humanness they lent her.
As he walked closer, he admired her form, her curves, and the cute slant of her nose. It crossed his mind that they now had the privacy he’d suggested earlier.
But they’d done battle in this chamber, both against others and against each other.
People had died where they now stood. Syla’s own sister had been killed in this chamber, assassinated by one of his people, and she’d been the one to find the body.
This place wasn’t going to put her in the mood for romance.
When he joined her beside the shielder, she clasped his hand and leaned against him. It was support she needed. He stroked the back of her hand with his thumb and kissed the side of her head.
Having her warm body pressed against his did make him hope that they could spend time together—romantic time—before he needed to leave to go back to his people and explain…
He didn’t know how he would explain what had happened.
Maybe if Jhiton went with him and helped, Vorik could do what he’d suggested before his duel with Shi.
Find a peaceful way forward for their peoples and a less perilous future for the stormers.
Of course, in order to return to his camp and propose that to everyone, Vorik would have to figure out how to get Agrevlari out from under the barrier.
Otherwise, he would have to swim out with Jhiton and get a ride back on Ozlemar’s back, and, after he and his brother had battled in the harbor, Vorik did not want to be in that close proximity to the black dragon.
Even before his fights with Jhiton, Ozlemar had been old and crotchety and best avoided.
At the first opportunity, the dragon might snap his jaws and bite Vorik in half.
“Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help,” Vorik said, the grim thoughts doubling his desire to help her find a way to free Agrevlari.
Syla, who was already gazing at the artifact—and trying to communicate with it?—nodded to him, then touched her moon-marked hand to the glowing surface. She closed her eyes.
Expecting it to respond to her and ignore him, Vorik was surprised when a vision popped into his mind. It was a lurid vision of him entwined with Syla and writhing naked against the stone wall in between two sarcophagi as they—
Syla cleared her throat. “That can’t be how we free Agrevlari.”
“Did it also show you, er…”
“Yes.”
“Why would the artifact want us to have sex? Here? Or at all?”
“I doubt it’s particular about the location.
As to the rest, I’m not sure, other than…
well, like I said, I’ve had the notion that you—we—mean something to the artifacts.
Or even the gods, though it seems arrogant to believe that.
But I’ve gotten the gist that someone—” Syla lifted her gaze heavenward, “—wants us to work together.”
“That was more than working together.” His body flushed with heat at the vivid memory, and his awareness of Syla leaning against him intensified.
“I know.” She glanced at him and bit her lip.
He found the gesture enthralling and arousing but looked away.
He’d already dismissed the idea of the two of them getting romantic here.
Besides, the idea of having a joining instigated by an outside influence would probably disgruntle her.
Maybe it should disgruntle him too, but it wouldn’t be the first time that it had happened.
The memory of their joining in the desert while drugged by the cactus flowers came to him. That had been amazing.
“We’re hoping there’s a way we can allow the green dragon, Agrevlari, to come and go, the same as Wreylith is now allowed to,” Syla said to the artifact.
It pulsed, the light flaring a brighter silver for a moment.
Then the imagery returned to Vorik’s mind, showing the same act of joining as before, though this time, he noticed their hands were clasped, pressed together against the wall as they enjoyed themselves.
Vigorously. His groin tightened at the thought of emulating the vision, but he made himself focus.
What was the artifact trying to tell them?
That was, he noted, his dragon-tattooed hand that was clasped to Syla’s moon-marked hand. Magic seemed to swirl in the air around their entwined fingers.
“That’s how we opened the door in the desert,” Vorik pointed out, assuming she continued to receive the same vision.
“I remember.”
Syla’s cheeks had grown pink, and she kept glancing at him. Was the vision putting randy thoughts into her mind too? If her version was as vivid as his, it would be hard not to start getting ideas.
“Maybe,” she added, “it’s suggesting that by mingling our two types of magic, I could transfer what my link with Wreylith conveys, in regard to the shields, to you and your link with Agrevlari.”
“And we need to have sex for that mingling?”
“It’s not my idea.”
“No. Your artifact is manipulating us.”
“Oh, I’m aware.” Syla gave it a tart look, but she also shifted her body more fully toward Vorik, pressing her chest against his.
A thrum of excitement coursed through him. Syla clasped his hand with hers and gazed up at him, her lips parting.
The heat of her body, the brush of her fingers, and the beauty of her full lips made his body more than thrum. He grew hard and eager at the thought of celebrating all that they’d achieved—all that they’d lived through—with the woman he loved.
“Are you… willing to go along with its manipulation?” Vorik asked before presuming to kiss her.
Syla managed a smile. “For the good of your dragon, I must.”
Vorik snorted. “Agrevlari will be delighted to learn about the noble sacrifice you’re willing to make on his behalf.”
“Are you willing to go along with this?”
“I’m always willing and eager—most eager—to make love to you. Even if a salacious artifact is watching. I do wonder why it cares.”
“I think we were meant to bring our people together, Vorik.”
“By having sex?”
“By getting married.” She rested her free hand on his chest.
“Like Jhiton suggested?”
Her nose wrinkled at the mention of his name. Vorik made a note not to bring up his brother when they were on the verge of intimacy.