Chapter 21
The wind whipped through Rylana’s hair as Killaynia flew over the forest between Tranquility and the foothills of the Icefang Mountains.
The golden dragon’s scales were cool underneath Rylana, the sun glinting off her sharp horns, and she radiated aloofness.
Killaynia glanced over her shoulder frequently, as if wondering what in both hells she was doing carrying an inferior human on her back, but she didn’t fly upside down or otherwise try to cause Rylana to fall.
Which was good. As soon as they’d left the city, Rylana had pulled her quiver into her lap and her hands were busy untying the tranquility knots binding her arrows.
She’d already worked her bow free and nocked it.
The bag of supplies she’d hastily packed kept threatening to slump off her shoulders, and the horn swayed on her chest with the movements of the dragon, getting in the way of her work.
But Rylana was determined to prepare for trouble.
If—when—they ran into it, she would be ready.
Somehow, she felt certain they would find it.
But where? Rylana had hoped Killaynia might be able to sense her brother and automatically know where he was, but she’d said they would need to be within five or ten miles for her to detect him.
Under Rylana’s guidance, they flew over and around Toadstool Rock—or Calling Rock, as the dragons had named it. Since Jildarin had met the sisters there before, Rylana thought it a likely spot for a tryst—or a trap.
No dragons have been here, Killaynia said and banked to fly east, toward the Icefang Mountains.
“Do you know where else they might have wanted to meet him? If mating is what the sisters have in mind, are there any places that might get them, er, in the mood?” Of all the things Rylana had never thought she would discuss with a dragon she barely knew…
I will check such places, but dragons prefer southern climes. We have many preferred mating places in the Skyfang Mountains. It is a testament to how much those females want Jildarin that they are willing to come so frequently this far north, hoping for his attention.
“Lucky him.”
Killaynia issued a noise somewhere between a bark and a cat hawking up a hairball. Was that… a laugh? Some males would be most chuffed to be pursued by so many females, but I agree that mating has never been that much of an interest for him.
Rylana didn’t mention that Jildarin was starting to get interested in it when he was in his human form, but when Killaynia slanted another look back at her, Rylana wondered if the dragon was again reading her thoughts. If she was, she didn’t comment on what she found there.
Powerful wings beating, Killaynia headed for the snow-capped mountains. Even with midsummer approaching, the peaks remained smothered, glaciers stark against the dark rocks above the tree line.
I sense dragons. Killaynia adjusted her flight path to head toward a valley between two craggy peaks.
“Jildarin?”
He is there.
“With how many others?” Rylana pulled an arrow free, but what if Jildarin was up there alone with Loxvonla?
If they were mating, not fighting, Rylana shouldn’t intrude.
Despite what Killaynia claimed, Rylana wouldn’t feel betrayed if it turned out that Jildarin was with the female dragon.
Rylana didn’t want to witness them together, and she might not be able to keep from experiencing envious anguish, but she suspected he would be doing it to protect her, not because he truly wanted Loxvonla.
Rylana knew he didn’t like her. Both of those sisters were odious.
She wished that if Jildarin did need to be with a female of his own kind that he could find one who made him happy, or who he would at least be content to sire offspring with.
Once more, Killaynia looked back at Rylana. This time, the expression didn’t appear hostile.
“Are you reading my mind?”
When I am in my native form, my magic is powerful, and, like my mother, one of my gifts is telepathy and mind reading.
“I’ll take that for a yes.”
You are at least loyal to my brother.
“I don’t keep the books and shop for ingredients for just anyone.”
Killaynia snorted, wisps of smoke wafting from her nostrils. A loyal servant.
Rylana sighed. Let Killaynia call her what she wished. At least she was flying Rylana into the mountains.
There are many dragons in the valley ahead.
I have traveled over it before. There are statues of the dwarven gods and preserved skeletons of dragons, mammoths, and yetis.
There are also mithril spears thrusting from great rock cairns.
The valley is of historical significance to the dwarves and was also the place of a great battle millennia ago.
Only those items preserved by magic remain from that time. We call this the Vale of the Lance.
Rylana didn’t care that much about the history or the valley’s name. “When you say many dragons, are they all female? Can you tell? All except Jildarin?”
Would she still feel his sacrifice was noble if he was mating with an entire horde of female dragons?
Killaynia issued the laughing noise again.
There are males and females. Quite a few.
I do not know what they are up to. Probably not mating.
My senses tell me that Jildarin and the males are flying around a great deal.
The females are mostly stationary. They may be watching.
Ah, perhaps the males are battling to prove themselves and win the interest of those females.
Since Rylana didn’t think Jildarin wanted their interest, she shook her head, not believing the explanation. He also wouldn’t have missed the opening meal at the diner for a reason that wasn’t great. What could have prompted him to come out here?
It is one of two times of year when dragons experience increased mating urgency, Killaynia said. Even Jildarin may be moved by his natural instincts to copulate—and, if necessary, fight for the opportunity to do so.
“Oh.” Rylana remembered Zilek mentioning that. She’d half-thought it an excuse for his libidinous behavior, but he had seemed even more oversexed than usual.
Once more, Killaynia looked back. I will check on Jildarin. He is my brother, and none of the other dragons I sense are kin. He could be in trouble.
“Yes. Let’s check.”
It is not wise for a puny human to place herself among dragons, especially dragons in a frenzied battle state. Do you wish me to put you down on a trail so that you can find your way back to the city?
“No,” Rylana said without hesitation and patted her quiver. “I won’t be so silly as to say I’m not afraid of dragons, but if there’s a chance Jildarin is in trouble and I can help…”
Those are not even mithril arrows. They will do little to harm a dragon.
“If nothing else, I might be able to distract one.”
You are every bit as foolish as I believed.
“I don’t think I denied that.” Rylana leaned forward to peer between Killaynia’s horns as a blue dragon came into view above the forested valley ahead.
It glanced their way but then dove, fire streaming from its maw. A familiar silver dragon rolled in the sky to avoid the flames. Jildarin.
Two more dragons flew after him. Wrath of the old gods, were all three of those dragons attacking him? No, not three. Four. Another blue dragon lay bloody and tangled in a tree, a wing half torn off. Maybe Jildarin had gotten the best of that one.
After dodging the fire of the diving blue, he twisted in the air and flew at that dragon, his fangs gleaming in the sun. Bloody gouges were visible in his silver scales, but he still looked hale as his powerful wings carried him into battle.
’Ware the females, Killaynia said. They’ve noticed us and are demanding to know why I’ve brought you. She growled. And they are calling me names for allowing you upon my back. The heinous bitches.
“That’s how I feel about them too.” Worried for Jildarin, it took Rylana a moment to tear her gaze from his battle to search for the female dragons.
There. The two black-scaled sisters were perched on a cliff, one looking toward the battle, appearing enraptured.
The other was glancing toward it but also toward the approaching Killaynia and Rylana.
Her maw parted, her fangs also glinting as her eyes locked on Rylana.
Farther up the cliff, a green-scaled dragon, who looked like one of the others she’d seen around—trying to woo Jildarin—was watching the battle intently as well.
When Loxvonla sprang from the cliff and flew toward Killaynia, Rylana realized how vulnerable she was.
Killaynia wouldn’t protect her, and Jildarin was busy battling three foes.
He probably didn’t even know Rylana had arrived.
Even if he did notice her, the last thing she wanted was to distract him.
Why have you brought that weak two-legs to witness our time of mating?
Loxvonla demanded, sharing the telepathic words with Rylana.
Killaynia, you know better. We’ve carefully arranged this and dusted our chosen mate with the Powder of Passion to ensure he wants nothing more than to battle for us.
And yet you wish to interrupt this, and you brought that despicable human.
That human who has doubtless used powders of her own on Jildarin to turn him from his own kind.
Perhaps I brought her so that you might slay her, Killaynia said.
Loxvonla, who’d been flying toward them with deadly determination, slowed down and swished her tail. Growing contemplative?
By our fanged ancestors, that would be most satisfying, Loxvonla said. A wonderful prelude to mating.
She is smitten with him and couldn’t bear to be parted from him.
Humans are so weak-willed.
Indeed.
Loxvonla continued closer, a predatory gleam in her eyes. I will slay her, and I will enjoy it immensely.