Good.Syla knew Oyenar would be relieved to see his wife and also hoped he could give them all a ride back. Well, maybe notallof them.
She didn’t know what she would do with Vorik. Letting him sneak away to rejoin his people would be ideal, but she could already tell that the blazing flames lit the area as if it were noon on a sunny day. Sneaking anywhere would be difficult.
“Your Majesty?” came an uncertain voice that she didn’t recognize.
Arms shaking, Syla pulled her head even with the top of the hole. Two soldiers with their bows on their backs reached down and helped her out.
“Thank you,” she said with great sincerity.
Even though her new strength had helped her immensely—before, she would have struggled to climb even five feet up a rope—that had been an arduous way to depart a mine. But she couldn’t complain. She’d escaped when many others hadn’t.
As the soldiers helped her out of the shaft, Tibby and Fel reached the top. More men crept into the remains of the building. As she’d guessed, only one wall and a few support posts and beams remained. Outside, fires had scorched the earth and burned the other building completely, while flames danced in the forest all around. Before, the lake hadn’t been visible, but enough trees had burned—or been knocked down by dragon ire—that Syla could see it and gape. The water line had dropped, though not as dramatically as she’d expected from her experience below, and the lake swirled, pulling everything toward the newly drilled hole. The boats… She didn’t evenseethe boats. Had they been sucked down to the bottom? The holewouldn’t have been wide enough to draw them in, but Syla hadn’t envisioned the water having such power as it emptied out of the lake.
Had the people on those boats been pulled under too? Unable to escape? Even though Wreylith had reported that stormers had taken over the vessels, maybe killing the fishermen they’d caught on board, she hoped everyone had been able to swim away. So many had already died. She hadn’t wanted this. And the memories of people horribly dismembered by the explosives would haunt her. Everything about this night would.
One of the soldiers cursed. “Is that CaptainVorik?”
“Yes, but don’t shoot.” Syla lifted a hand.
Armed men were already surging toward the shaft.
“He’s carrying Lady Abrya,” Syla added, giving a more compelling reason for everyone to hold their fire.
“Stand down, men!” came a call from the road. Lord Oyenar strode toward them. He must have heard Syla’s words because he switched to a dead run.
Vorik, face red from the effort of climbing with the weight of an extra person, pushed Abrya out ahead of him. Warily, he followed and stood beside Syla.
“Don’t shoot,” she said again. “He’s…”
She looked at Vorik, as always, groping for an explanation for him.
He raised his eyebrows. Probably curious as to how he would be classified.
“My prisoner,” she finished with an apologetic shrug.
As long as they didn’t kill him, she could make sure he had a way to escape later. Not that he necessarily needed her to arrange anything for that.
Vorik smiled sadly but with acceptance. “I believe itismy turn to be the captive.”
“Yeah.”
Oyenar pushed soldiers back so he could embrace his wife. She’d recovered enough to wrap her arms around him and fall into his embrace. Her injuries aside, it looked romantic. Syla wished she could fall into Vorik’s embrace, but dozens of eyes were watching. Maybehundreds. Oyenar had sent wave after wave of troops up here, and he’d been right to do so. More stormers than she’d expected had arrived to be a part of this. Oyenar—and, whether Syla had wanted it or not, she and Aunt Tibby—had delivered the devastating defeat that he’d wanted.
“Your Majesty.” Oyenar kept a grip on his wife’s hand as he faced Syla. “Your weapons platform has been loaded onto one of our ships, theFanged Whale. May I request that you use it to help drive off any stormer vessels ordragonsremaining in the area?” He looked up.
Only one dragon was in the sky above the barrier, a familiar green-scaled one. Agrevlari. Good. That would make it easier for Vorik to escape.
“Yes, but…” Syla remembered Vorik’s warning and grimaced. “I need to depart as soon as possible. I’ve received intelligence that, in my absence, someone from the Fograth family has taken over the castle and talked several islands’ worth of ships into arriving in the harbor at Castle Island to support them.” Realizing someone might wonder where she’d gotten suchintelligence,especially with Vorik standing next to her, she waved up to Wreylith, doubting the dragon would mind receiving credit.
As Wreylith swished her tail, saying nothing to belie her, Syla watched Oyenar’s face, wondering if he’d known. Might he also have been invited to send ships? But surprise lifted his eyebrows.
“I’d heard inklings of Lord Favrik Fograth’s ambition, and of his sons openly considering opposing your rule, but I’ve beenbusy here lately. For all I know, there’s a message on my desk requesting my help.”
“I think,” Abrya murmured, “we should support Queen Syla rather than opposing her.”
Oyenar opened his mouth but paused.
Abrya added, “I insist.”
