“Let me guess.” Syla glanced back to check her distance to the edge—and the gray sky for dragons. “If you cut my throat with a sword, you’ll have to explain yourself to Vorik, but if I fall off the cliff, accidents happen, now, don’t they?”
Vorik answers to me.
Yeah, and that was the problem, wasn’t it?
I would not prevaricate with him. Put down the shielder components.
Ah, maybe that was the only reason he hadn’t attacked. For whatever reason, Jhiton wanted them for his people. If she stumbled and dropped the amphora, it might break, and the moss-bulb powder could be ruined by the storm. If she fell off the cliff and into the ocean, all three components might be lost.
“No, thanks. I’d like to keep them.”
Jhiton kept walking closer, slowly now, like a stalking predator, and she was drawing precariously close to the edge. She had to delay him somehow, long enough for Igliana to find her.
“Why don’t you take a break from being dreadful and go back to your camp? I haven’t done anything to you.” Frustration crept into Syla, and she ended up shouting over the wind with more passion than she’d intended. “I haven’t even done anythingto your people except defend my Kingdom. Meanwhile, you’ve taken almosteveryonefrom me. Everyone I loved. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be.” She caught herself, the emotions too raw, too real. She wanted to buy time but not by exposing her vulnerabilities to Jhiton.
His face remained cold and dispassionate, and she had little doubt that he would do it all again. As he strode closer, scant feet away now, she believed he would take this opportunity to kill her, to end the source of the friction between him and his brother.
A glance back revealed that she could go no farther. She’d reached the edge of the cliff, and stormy white water frothed and churned below, battering rock formations that thrust up from the sea like fingers. If she jumped—or was pushed and fell—she wouldn’t survive the drop.
On impulse, she spun and held the amphora out over the edge. Jhiton halted.
The components might not mean as much to the stormers as to her people, but he had ordered them collected, and he’d been protecting them. He’d likely realized that destroying the islands’ protection completely would leave them exposed to the elements and winged predators. After his people took over, he might want the shields to be returned to duty.
Syla bared her teeth at the thought of that.
You won’t drop it,Jhiton said, but he had paused his advance.You need that more than I do.
“Yes, I do, but if the Kingdom can’t have a shield, then neither can you. Bastard.” So many raindrops spattered her spectacles that she struggled to read his expression, but she didn’t have a hand free to wipe the lenses. She almost didn’t notice his head turning back in the direction of the cave. Then she sensed what had drawn his attention.
Vorik sprinted out of the trees with his sword in one hand and a dagger in the other. Without hesitation, he ran straight at Jhiton.
Jhiton had time to spring away from Syla and the edge of the bluff, raising his blades to defend himself. Then Vorik was upon him.
Their gargoyle-bone swords clanged like metal, throwing blue sparks when they met. And they met too swiftly for her to track. Those sparks rained in all directions, landing on the damp rock at their feet.
As fast as the cheetahs she’d likened Jhiton to earlier, the men sprang about, dancing in and out, dodging and parrying. They never lost their balance on the wet and uneven ground. They were far too sure-footed for that.
Aside from the clangs of their weapons, they didn’t make a sound, neither shouting at the other nor even grunting or groaning as their blows were deflected. If they conversed at all, it had to be telepathically, but maybe they each knew where the other stood, and there was no need to speak.
Syla needed to creep away, to get as far from them as she could in case Jhiton won the confrontation. But they were mesmerizing, so nimble and athletic, so powerful; it was almost impossible to look away. Besides, if Vorik lost, he might need a healer. Would Jhiton allow her to help him before he returned to killing her?
She wished she could tell who was more likely to win. Before, Vorik had said his brother had trained him and that he wouldn’t want to fight him, implying Jhiton would win. But Jhiton had flecks of gray in his black hair. Vorik was still young and in the prime of his life. Wouldn’t he have a slight advantage?
Unfortunately, Jhiton didn’t look aged or slow in the least. Never had she seen someone wield two longswords, and it was incredible that he did so without bumping them against eachother, without any hint of awkwardness, each hand as gifted as the other. But Vorik also used his sword and dagger without any hint that one side was less capable than the other.
As they leaped about, their dragon bonds giving them the power to somersault over each other’s heads and leap up to swing from tree branches to avoid attacks, Syla couldn’t tell if they were holding back. She didn’t believe either of them wanted to kill the other, but they didn’t hesitate to slash with those deadly blades. If all they’d wanted to do was settle an argument, they would have used fists, not swords.
For the first time, Jhiton growled, and he picked up the speed of his attack. As a blade whistled toward Vorik’s thigh, he bumped against a tree and couldn’t keep it from slicing in. But he didn’t cry out, didn’t make a sound at all, only digging in and renewing his attack on Jhiton. He glanced at Syla, as if drawing strength from her concerned face, and pushed his brother back. He even tried to angle Jhiton toward the edge. But the general didn’t allow himself to be so maneuvered. With the two longer blades, he seemed to have the advantage, forming a wall of moving magical bone. Vorik couldn’t get close enough to draw blood.
I see you, human friend!
Never had Syla been so delighted to have a dragon speak into her mind. And when she looked south, she spotted the orange dragon flapping her wings against the wind, arrowing up the coast toward the bluff.
I’m relieved to see you,Syla said.I need a ride.
Oh, that is most apparent.
Syla inched closer to the edge. The thought of leaving Vorik when he was in trouble, when he needed healing, distressed her, but she reminded herself that the stormers knew where the Bogberry Island shielder was now. She had to return and prepare for another invasion. Besides, once she was gone, Jhitonand Vorik wouldn’t have a reason to continue their battle. The way they were trying to kill each other now made her question that assumption, but she hoped it was true.
