Chapter 23
Full daylight came, and the wind abated as Igliana flew Syla across the Sea of Storms. As the gray clouds grew less dense, a few beams of sunlight crept through, sending down rays from the heavens.
It should have been a scene of promise and hope, but Syla, wet and shivering and clutching the amphora in her lap, kept looking back, expecting to spot a black dragon in the sky.
Jhiton’s black dragon. If he caught up, he would keep Syla from returning to Bogberry Island to warn her people of the new threat.
I do not sense dragons behind us, Igliana said telepathically.
How far do dragon senses extend?
Many miles. Tens of miles. Much farther than the senses of humans.
We are a puny species.
So Auntie Wreylith informs me. I think you are fun. Igliana tilted her wings and sashayed left and right.
Her protective magic ensured Syla would stay on her back, though Syla now habitually used her own power to anchor herself to dragons. It was safer that way.
Did you know that Teyla read to me when she rode upon my back? Igliana added.
I did not.
The text was a nonfictional historical accounting of the storm god’s laboratories and the minions he created—she was attempting to learn everything she could before our visit to the Dire Desert—and it was a touch dry—and by dry I mean boring—but she added stories from her memory.
Historical stories of adventure, and she was certain to highlight the magnificence of dragons and how we were the storm god’s greatest creation.
It’s wise to highlight the magnificence of dragons when one is riding on one.
Oh, certainly. I was most entertained.
I’m glad. And I’m glad you came to get me and dared the storm. Reminded that Igliana was quite young by dragon standards, Syla decided it wouldn’t hurt to bolster her ego—especially since it sounded like Wreylith quashed it often. That was very brave of you.
It was, wasn’t it?
It must be the reason the stormers aren’t giving chase. Clearly, their dragons are unwilling to come after us. They likely fear the storm.
Even the great black? Would he fear a little wind?
Ozlemar? He may be too grouchy to want to get his wings wet.
Igliana made a chuffing sound that Syla had heard a couple of times before from Wreylith and thought was the equivalent of laughter.
Elders can be grumps, Igliana said. They are always certain they are right and dismissive of youths.
I’ve noticed that myself, but as queen, I probably should have a dragon that others respect and who challenges me.
Wreylith will keep me from getting too full of myself.
Syla, who’d yet to feel she was appropriate and experienced enough for the throne, couldn’t imagine ever adopting such an attitude, but one never knew.
Yes. You are fortunate that she claimed you.
She what? Syla blinked at the terminology.
I believe humans call it being bonded, having a magical connection to the dragon who…
Claims me?
Yes.
Since Syla had been prone to calling Agrevlari Vorik’s dragon, she supposed it was fair that the dragons thought of their linked humans as theirs. As a claimed human, it must be my duty to prepare a suitable lair and horn-hog farm for my dragon.
Oh, that sounds lovely. May I visit the horn-hog farm too?
I… think it’ll be protected under the Castle Island shield, and only dragons bonded to moon-marked residents would be permitted through the barrier.
Since Wreylith was presumably still stuck under the Bogberry Island barrier, Syla couldn’t pretend to know all the rules and added, I’m uncertain though.
Perhaps Wreylith will bring you a horn hog now and then.
That would be delightful but seems unlikely. Elders think youths should scrap and scramble and get their own food. Even my parents, who are quite lovely by dragon standards, nudged me out of the nest before I scarcely knew how to open my wings and fly.
Dragon parents sound like they might be challenging to please.
Yes, but they adore me, due to my verve.
More rays of sunlight shone through the clouds ahead, turning the sea from a drab gray to a deep blue where they touched down. And was that Bogberry Island in the distance?
Syla blew out a slow breath, trying to still the nerves squirming in her belly.
Though she was glad to have escaped, and mollified that she’d gotten the magical components, she’d failed to keep the shielder location a secret.
Dread filled her at the knowledge that she would have to admit that to Lord Oyenar, that the already beleaguered residents of Bogberry Island would have to deal with another stormer incursion.
And this time, their enemies would bring all the forces they could.
“I’ve betrayed my people as surely as Venia did,” she whispered, remembering her sister’s body on the floor of the shielder chamber under the castle.
Venia’s betrayal had been inadvertent, a byproduct of falling for a stormer with a handsome face, but General Dolok hadn’t been sympathetic in the least. Because of Venia’s failing, he hadn’t given Syla a chance to prove herself.
And now… when he heard about Syla’s blunder, he would know he’d been right.
What happened? Igliana asked.
I let the stormers give me a drug that loosened my tongue, and I told them where the Bogberry shielder can be found.
You let them? Were there not many, many of them? And you were alone?
Yes, I don’t think I could have escaped my fate, but…
Syla wrestled with the knowledge that she hadn’t tried as hard to escape Vorik’s kidnapping as she could have, that she’d thought it might be a good idea to be swept off to the stormer cave.
She looked down at the amphora. She’d accomplished what she’d hoped, but at what cost?
With the components, Aunt Tibby might be able to repair the Harvest Island shielder, but the stormers were about to do their best to destroy another one.
If it hadn’t been Vorik, I would have fought harder to escape.
You are not a dragon. You are not even a warrior among the two-legs.
I’m not completely helpless though. Syla couldn’t imagine using her power on Vorik, but if Jhiton had been in that kayak, dragging her out to sea, she wouldn’t have hesitated to use her magic on him.
Or any other stormer, for that matter. Instead, because Vorik had been involved, she’d believed…
She supposed she’d believed she could use their relationship to come out ahead.
And he had helped her escape. But he’d also held her while the healer stabbed that needle into her.
She sighed, as conflicted about him and their relationship as she’d ever been.
I think the problem is that I tried to be clever so that I could redeem myself for past failings.
I want to protect my people, Igliana, but I also want to be…
worthy of the throne. Worthy enough that others won’t scheme and try to kill me to take it for themselves.
Instead, I’ve put my people in greater danger than they were in before.
The stormers have not taken your artifact yet!
No, you’re right. Syla straightened her back.
She would speak with her fleet commander and Lord Oyenar and whatever military leaders he could summon, and they would come up with a plan.
It wasn’t as if the stormers could ride their dragons to the salt mine and use them to extract the shielder.
For the time being, the barrier was up, so they would have to bring ships or swim to land themselves.
Even if some of the stormers were enhanced by magic, they were still human.
We’ll find a way to stop them, she said with determination.
Certainly. You can accomplish this.
Syla rested a hand on Igliana’s cool scales. You’re a good dragon. A very good ally.
Better than Wreylith?
Syla managed a smile at the youthful tone. You’re certainly more encouraging than she is.
Yes, very much so. Igliana sashayed again.
As they flew closer to Bogberry Island, Wreylith came into view, sunbeams gleaming on her brilliant red scales.
Syla didn’t yet know for certain why Wreylith hadn’t been able to leave the island and watched to see if she, as Syla drew closer, would be able to soar through the barrier.
Wreylith didn’t try. Once she was out over the coastline, she did the aerial equivalent of pacing back and forth and waiting for them.
You’ve finally returned to free me from this imprisonment! Wreylith boomed into Syla’s head.
Sorry my escape took longer than you would have liked. Were there not delicious bog bears here for you to hunt? And were you not comfortable knowing that no stormer dragons could reach and threaten you while you relaxed and swam in the many lakes?
No matter how vast the comforts of a cage, it still confines you. Dragons must fly free.
I understand the sentiment.
We are not bonded, so I cannot fly through the barrier. When Igliana reached the invisible shield, she flew alongside it, matching speed and altitude with Wreylith on the other side. Hold on to your items.
Syla frowned at the thought of another dousing in the ocean, but she had little choice. If you fly low and drop me, I can paddle over to—
Igliana startled her by twisting her neck in the air, her fangs reaching for Syla.
As friendly and encouraging as the orange dragon was, having that deadly maw lunge close was alarming, and Syla barely had the presence of mind to guess her intent and grab the amphora and grip the straps of her pack and medical kit.
She’d no sooner clutched everything than Igliana picked her up and tossed her like one of Vorik’s juggling balls.