Chapter 12
Powerful wings beating, Wreylith sped toward the Stormslicer, but a gray dragon intercepted her, roaring and snapping for her neck with its fangs.
Wreylith twisted to avoid the bite while raking with her talons.
Tail lashing out like a whip, she contorted herself to breathe fire at her enemy.
The gray wheeled away, but the other dragons had caught up.
Agrevlari flew at the back of the group, hanging back slightly, but he didn’t look like he would help her, not this time.
“I’ll help her.” Syla wiped her palms, already nervous for the battle, then planted her hands on the posts of the weapons platform.
“Do you want me to assist?” Tibby asked uncertainly.
Syla started to shake her head but realized this would be the time to test her aunt’s ability to do so. “Yes, try shooting a sphere from one of the back posts.”
“Take out the stormer ships too,” Fel suggested, standing on the deck where he could keep an eye on Syla and Tibby and waving the Royal Protectors closer to the platform.
More worried about her winged ally at the moment, Syla targeted the gray dragon. Thus far, Wreylith had sped past two others, flying so fast that they hadn’t been able to stop her, but the powerful gray flapped its great wings and kept up.
Syla willed a ball of magical energy to launch.
With a soft thwump reverberating through the platform, one shot out from her corner.
As the gray dragon opened its maw to breathe fire at Wreylith, it noticed the silvery ball speeding toward it.
With a quick barrel roll in the air, it tried to escape, but the projectile curved to follow, then slammed into its side.
The screech that came from the dragon had nothing to do with singing.
Booms erupted from the stormer ships.
“They’re firing at us!” came Major Hixun’s call. “Fire back! Blow them out of the seas!”
Though Syla worried she hadn’t done enough to help Wreylith, she turned her attention to the enemy vessels.
A cannonball splashed into the water a few feet from the bow of the Stormslicer as their enemies sought to find their range.
Another soared overhead, so close that it clipped the corner of the wheelhouse before streaking through the railing and splashing down on the far side.
As the Stormslicer returned fire, cannonballs blasting toward the enemy vessels, Syla launched two more projectiles.
With the targets so near, they landed quickly, one crashing into the hull of a stormer ship.
Shards of wood flew hundreds of feet, and what remained burst into flame.
The other magical sphere slammed into a cannon, blowing it across the ship to land in the water on the far side and hurling its crew in all directions.
Syla grimaced, telling herself to pick her targets more carefully. She needed to use her precious magical ammunition to sink the ships, not blow up single weapons mounted on them.
Behind her, Tibby cursed. So far, she’d been unsuccessful in her attempts to launch an attack. Maybe the weapons platform would only respond to one wielder at a time?
The dragons that had scattered when the Stormslicer arrived returned now that the battle had begun.
Flying as one cohesive unit, they arrowed toward the Kingdom fleet.
No, toward Syla’s ship specifically. They had riders, and she spotted a black dragon in the lead. Was that General Jhiton and Ozlemar?
With so many cannonballs flying, and the Stormslicer maneuvering, trying to pass the enemy vessels and reach the barrier, Syla struggled to keep the wheeling and diving dragons in sight, but she knew they were coming at her.
And on the other side, the dragons harrying Wreylith were also closer than they had been, their battle sweeping toward the island.
As if Wreylith had noticed her checking, she reported, He is attacking me!
Agrevlari? Syla asked.
Numerous dragons were attacking Wreylith, but that had been a singular he.
Yes! I will tear his horns off and shove them into his cloaca.
That sounds painful.
It will be!
Though sinking the stormer ships would keep them from sending more people to the island to attack, the dragons were more dangerous to everyone’s lives. Syla shifted her focus to them. She wanted to help Wreylith, but the closer dragons were a greater threat to the fleet—and the weapons platform.
Jhiton’s great winged beast flew past, the general riding on his back and gripping a bow, shooting down at the deck of the Stormslicer. A closer yellow dragon was diving toward the weapons platform, talons outstretched.
Though Syla doubted a single dragon could lift what had taken four of their kind to deliver, she had to focus on it.
The next magical spheres she launched sped toward the yellow creature.
It had almost reached them when the projectiles slammed into its chest. Silver light flared, and it screeched—no, shrieked as its wingbeats faltered.
Its momentum carried it into the ship, and men scattered as it slammed onto the deck, snapping wood, then bounced off and splashed into the water on the far side.
Another silver projectile sped away, and it wasn’t Syla’s doing.
Tibby blurted, “Yes!” as it zipped across the water and toward a stormer ship. It blew through one of the vessel’s masts and sped toward the city. Tibby’s next cry was, “No!” as it struck a waterfront building, blowing it to pieces.
“You’ll get it down!” Syla promised, hoping nobody had been inside.
She launched a projectile at the other stormer ship, careful to angle it so that it wouldn’t hit anything important if it went all the way through the vessel. It landed low enough on the hull to ensure the ship would take on water.
Nearby, an arrow pierced one of the Royal Protectors in the throat, and he crumpled to the deck.
Syla gaped, horrified. That would be a fatal wound.
Swearing, she searched the sky for the riders with bows. Cannons boomed from the deck of the Stormslicer, but the enemy dragons didn’t have trouble evading them. The ones targeting the ships were more effective.
An arrow clinked off a marble post less than a foot from Syla’s head, and she stumbled back.
Cold eyes, face chiseled from granite, General Jhiton stared down at her from his dragon’s back as he nocked another arrow.
The bastard was trying to kill her. He’d already killed one of the men defending her.
Syla sprang back to the post, planting her sweaty palm on the mark, determined to get Jhiton. But Fel moved abruptly, startling her. Vorik was running across the deck toward them. Where had he come from?
Men charged at Vorik, but he sprang over their heads, jumping so high that the swings of their weapons didn’t reach him. For an instant, he met Syla’s eyes, shouting, “Move!” before he landed on top of the weapons platform with a soft thud.
Even as archers on deck turned bows toward him, and Fel and the Royal Protectors spun to climb up after him, Vorik raised something above one of the hollow tops of the posts—the barrels that the projectiles fired from. The stolen booby trap.
“Don’t shoot!” Syla yelled to her aunt, imagining the weapon exploding like a blocked cannon.
Before Fel and the Royal Protectors reached the top of the canopy, Vorik dropped the explosive and leaped off. He twisted in the air, anticipating and dodging an arrow speeding toward him.
Magic flared within the post, and the booby trap didn’t go off right away.
Roars above the Stormslicer made Syla flinch.
She ducked low, not wanting to leave the weapons platform but also feeling vulnerable.
Her instincts were right. Jhiton loosed another arrow.
It zipped between the platform and its canopy, then clipped the ship’s railing as it sailed away on the far side.
By the gods, if she hadn’t ducked at the right moment… it would have pierced her throat.
Vorik had landed, his sword in hand, and clangs erupted as he parried a barrage of blows from men charging at him.
Two types of magic mingled within the post, and Syla thought the weapons platform might have a way to nullify Tibby’s booby trap, but then a thunderous boom came from right above.
Though the canopy somewhat protected Syla and Tibby, they wobbled, and Syla lost her grip on the post again.
She scrambled back toward it, knowing they would never win if she couldn’t take down more enemy dragons, but she didn’t know if that explosion had damaged the platform.
The frame seemed to be intact, but she couldn’t see the opening at the top of the post.
Even as she wondered if she dared try to fire, willing the weapon to use one of the other posts, Vorik battled his way toward her, determination in the set of his jaw. Fel moved to block him, and she scowled, afraid Vorik would slay him to get to her.
“I’m not going with you!” Syla shouted.
More dragons flew closer, one diving for the weapons platform again. Syla leaped up beside Tibby, and they launched weapons at the same time, using the back posts in case the other was destroyed.
Relief flooded into Syla when two projectiles zipped away. Their dragon target tried to veer off but wasn’t fast enough to dodge the gods-gifted magic. Both projectiles struck, knocking it back dozens of yards. It splashed into the water and didn’t move again.
“We’re almost to the barrier!” Hixun called. “Keep firing, everyone. We’ll pummel those dragons from behind its protection!”
“Look out!” Vorik yelled.