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 meanboring—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,theirdragons 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 AgrevlariVorik’sdragon, she supposed it was fair that the dragons thought of their linked humans astheirs.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.
