Chapter 25 #3
Enemies she doesn’t deserve. She needs… Me, Vorik thought but didn’t say, reminded that Agrevlari, despite their bond, was loyal to his wing and those he served with.
And those dragons had long ago promised themselves to be allies to the stormers since they all had the same goal of gaining access to the Kingdom islands.
If Vorik left his people to stand at Syla’s side, he might be walking away from Agrevlari, his friendship and his bond.
As he urged, Hurry, please, Vorik accepted that, but he also didn’t announce his intentions. First, he had to make sure he could find Syla and, if she needed it, save her. Then… then he could figure out the rest.
Syla rode on Wreylith’s back with Fel perched behind her. He’d been unwilling to be left behind. Since they were looking for a deadly enemy who could kill Syla with a swipe of her sword, she hadn’t rejected his offer of help.
Fel gazed indifferently down at the bogs and eventually Lake Talindar as they flew around the top of Prominence Hill.
He was unaware of the plan that Syla had proposed and Lord Oyenar had expanded greatly upon, so he probably thought nothing of the wagons of troops winding up the road that led past the lake on their way to the mine buildings.
She hoped someone warned the fishermen to bring their boats in so they wouldn’t be casualties if fighting broke out, but she could imagine Oyenar not wanting to clue the stormers in that anything was amiss by doing so.
Do you sense anyone with magical power? Syla asked Wreylith.
Not yet, but that is what I’m seeking. If we fly close enough, I should be able to detect through their inherent power the female rider captain and also your moon-marked relative.
You’d think Lesva would start losing some of her power since her dragon is gone.
It will linger for some time. It’s even possible for a dragon, knowing its end nears, to transfer more of its power into a bonded human before its death.
Oh, great. A more powerful Lesva. Exactly what I hoped for. Syla told herself she’d already faced Lesva in Oyenar’s suite, and it hadn’t been any worse than before. If anything, she’d done better than the first time they’d pitted their powers against each other.
“With the trees so dense between the bogs in this area,” Fel said, watching the ground below, “it’ll be difficult to see stormers sneaking up the hill. They won’t use the roads or the river. They’ll stay under cover.”
“Wreylith is attempting to sense our enemies.”
True, she’d only spoken of Abrya and Lesva, but she would sense other riders if they skulked about below.
“Through magic, I assume,” Fel said.
“Yes, though I understand dragons also have keen eyes and ears and a strong sense of smell.”
“They’ve effectively seen and smelled enough elioks to nearly make them extinct on Harvest Island,” he grumbled.
“I didn’t know that species meant something to you,” Syla said, though she also lamented that so many dragons had enjoyed free rein to hunt on the island these past weeks. And, if she failed here, another island would be laid bare to them.
“I enjoyed the steak we had in the castle.”
“The steak from the haunch that Wreylith delivered to us? You can’t bemoan dragons hunting and also enjoy what they’ve caught and shared with you.”
Wreylith didn’t comment, but a rumble reverberating through her body might have indicated agreement.
Fel grunted an acknowledgment. “Is Tibby going to be able to work on building a new shielder from the components you returned with? Even if that one is destined for Harvest Island, we could use it if some stormers manage to take down the one here. Plant it right in one of the palace towers and activate it.”
“Aunt Tibby is… working on another project right now.” Syla spotted the first wagons arriving at the mining buildings, troops unloading with a woman in a dress among them.
Tibby. Several armed men accompanied her past a shallow bog and to the building with the lift cage inside. At least she was well protected.
“What project could be more important than fixing the shielder?” Fel asked.
Even though she trusted him fully, Syla was reluctant to explain the plan, as if voicing details might make it more likely to come to pass.
“I think she needs the outside shell and components from the destroyed shielder back at the castle,” she said, though she had no idea if that was true.
At the least, Tibby probably hadn’t brought along the magical tools she would need.
“We should send her on a ship heading back as soon as possible, then.” After a moment, Fel added, “There’s no reason for an engineer to be trapped in a war zone. Because of her moon-mark, she might be targeted.”
There was a reason, but Syla kept it to herself. Instead, she lightly asked, “Goodness, Fel, do you care about her fate?”
“She’s gruff, insulting, and thinks I’m a warmongering idiot.”
“So, you like that she challenges you.”
Fel’s grunt sounded like denial, but it wasn’t as vehement as Syla would have expected.
“I think you’re growing on her too. Maybe you two can go to a nice diner for a meal after this is all over.” Realizing there were numerous ways the war could end up being over, Syla amended her words. “After we’ve driven out the stormers and secured the Kingdom.”
“If we succeed at doing that, I’ll go to a meal with anyone. Even your dragon.”
“Wreylith is a delightful dining companion.” Syla thought of the intestines that Wreylith had flung upon the stone wall.
Dragons do not seek to be delightful, Wreylith said. Certainly not in the eyes of puny humans. Hold. Others are speaking with me.
Wreylith flew around the lake, her presence making the fishermen look up. Even though they’d probably heard by now that the red dragon was an ally, and Wreylith’s flight was low enough that they would be able to see Syla on her back, the men skittered under cover.
Igliana and other Freeborn Faction-aligned dragons are informing me that many new dragons have entered the area.
Stormer dragons.
Yes. Some are alighting on the Island of Eliok. Others are approaching this island.
With riders that they intend to drop off so they can swim in and invade?
Perhaps, but there are also many ships in the sea—stormer ships—that are full of troops, and they are also approaching this island.
Full of troops means… what? Dozens of men? Hundreds?
At least. Igliana has counted twenty ships so far.
Syla grimaced, though it was what she’d expected would happen. “I guess they’re sending more than a team.”
Fel’s next grunt was one of inquiry.
“Wreylith says a lot of stormer ships and dragons are close.” Syla hadn’t seen any vessels in the waters near that cave, nor had it housed hundreds of men. Jhiton must have called for troops from all of their tribes to join in on this.
As Wreylith flapped her wings to carry them from the lake to the buildings again, Syla glimpsed someone in the trees. It had looked like a man rather than Lesva, but had those been black riding leathers the person had worn?
“I saw someone in the trees,” Fel said, but he pointed at least a hundred yards farther up the bank than where Syla had glimpsed someone.
“There may already be stormers on the island moving into the area.” Syla couldn’t see any ships anchored in the waters beyond the shield yet, but stormers had helped Lesva attack the palace—and Vorik attack the docked ships—so there were people here already.
“We’d better go down and warn the military leaders that Oyenar sent on those wagons.
We may have less time to prepare than we thought. ”
When the road, railroad tracks, and buildings came into view again, the wagons she’d mentioned were already on their way back.
Returning to the barracks in the city to fetch more troops most likely.
Syla didn’t see any of the men left in the area.
Had they all gone down into the mine with Tibby?
Someone should have been placed on guard around the buildings, surely.
I sense them, Wreylith said.
Lesva and Lady Abrya? Syla asked silently as Fel asked, “The female dragon rider and Oyenar’s wife?”
Apparently, Wreylith was including him in the conversation now.
A bonded rider and a moon-marked human, yes. Wreylith descended toward one of the buildings.
“Are they already inside?” Syla groaned.
Lesva might run into Tibby right away and attack her out of principle. Or try questioning her for information on the shielder chamber’s location in the mine. Or did she already know that? As Syla had worried about before, Lesva had been with Abrya long enough to extract that information.
Your mine shaft is too narrow for a large and magnificent dragon to enter, Wreylith said.
Even small and modest dragons would struggle.
Indeed. We are not exiguous creatures.
“What’s exiguous?” Fel asked, though he’d probably gotten the gist.
“Ask Aunt Tibby. She’s well-read.”
He snorted. “She’d probably use it to describe my genitals.”
“She’s classier than that.”
“My intellect?”
“That sounds right.”
I will land on the roof, Wreylith said.
Perfect. Thank you. We need to go down there and make sure Tibby and the shielder are safe. Syla dreaded entering the mine with only Fel as an ally. It had made sense for her to scout the area and search for Abrya from the safety of the sky with the powerful Wreylith along. But without the dragon…
Hopefully, Syla could find the troops already in the mine and requisition a squad to help her.
As they landed on the rooftop, Fel pointed to a man near the rail tracks. A dead man.
Syla slumped. “Lesva must have just come through.”
How had this unraveled so quickly? Syla had thought they’d have time to put their plan in place.
“Yes.” Fel slid off Wreylith’s back and jumped to the ground, his mace in hand, his crossbow slung across his back.
More gracefully than usual, Syla also slid off the dragon’s back.
Typically, she would very carefully and awkwardly maneuver herself if she had to climb down from something, but a strange sense of vigor prompted her to jump off the roof.
She landed on her feet beside Fel, feeling as if she’d dropped two feet instead of more than ten, and he blinked, looking surprised as he belatedly held out a hand to steady her if she needed it. She did not.
You are coming into the power that my magic grants, Wreylith stated, sounding smug.
Handy timing.
Too bad it wouldn’t be enough to allow her to defeat Lesva in a confrontation.
“Let’s find Tibby and the rest of the troops that went in.” Syla eyed the body on the tracks. “Before it’s too late.”