Distressed, Syla sat up in bed. She had to get the fleet over there to help.Are there a lot of stormer dragons still by the volcano on the other end of Harvest Island, Wreylith?
There are.
At Syla’s movement, Vorik opened his eyes and glanced toward the porthole. “Everything all right?”
“No.” She struggled to keep her tone calm, but she wanted to rail at him—and at herself. If she’d drugged him and questioned him, she might have learned of the attack before it had happened. She might have headed toward Bogberry Island with the fleet andkeptit from happening. “Damn it, Vorik.”
“Was my performance that poor? Women don’t usually curse me in the aftermath.” He smiled at her, but his eyes were serious—or were theywary?—as he studied her face.
“Your people are attacking Bogberry Island.” Syla rolled out of bed and snatched her dress up from the floor.
“Ah.” He didn’t look surprised, and that lack of reaction was like a spear to her heart, a piercing confirmation that she’d made the wrong choice.
“You knew.”
Vorik sat up. “I didn’t know they would attack last night when we were having sex, no, but I knew Jhiton had plans to obtain Bogberry Island.”
“Are yousureyou didn’t know it would be last night?” Syla demanded as she yanked on her dress. “And distract me on purpose? To deliberately keep the fleet—the weapons platform—here and out of the way for your people’s incursion? Your brother can communicate with you from afar, right? Did heorderyou to do this?” She flung her hand at the bed, at their tousled blankets and Vorik’s naked form among them.
“No. I just wanted…” He spread a hand toward her. “You. I always want you.”
“Damn it, Vorik,” she said again, though she was more angry and frustrated with herself. Sheknewhe was her enemy—and loyal to his people. He might care for her, but that didn’t change that he was a stormer dragon rider through and through.
After dressing, Syla ran to the door and flung it open, finding a Royal Protector standing nearby in the corridor. Fel must have finally succumbed to his weariness and allowed a replacement to stand in for him.
“Tell the fleet commander—” She caught herself and stopped, aware of Vorik in the cabin.
He’d climbed out of bed and was bent over, peering about. Looking for his underwear? Even if he was distracted, she had no doubt he would hear her every word. Even if he wasn’t in direct contact with his brother, he would be with Agrevlari, and the dragon could relay messages. Relayintelligence.
“I’ll tell him.” Syla didn’t even know if the commander was back on board. “Take Vorik back to his cell.”
“Ah, yes, Your Majesty.” The Royal Protector peered into her cabin. “Where are his shackles?”
“Probably with his underwear,” she muttered and jogged toward the ship’s ladder at the end of the corridor. She felt bad leaving the Royal Protector to round up men and deal with moving Vorik, who might well escape now that he’d suitably delayed her. Maybe that would be for the best. Since she apparently couldn’t stand to interrogate him.
As she climbed the steps, she regretted not delegating that duty to someone else. If they’d used the hydra-scale powder, they wouldn’t have needed to physically torture him, and she would have received warning about Bogberry Island.
Maybe. Vorik might have told the truth when he’d said he hadn’t known about the attack.
But what of the shielder components? She hadn’t learned where they were yet either. All he’d admitted was that they were being taken to his people’s next camp.
“I should have let him kidnap me,” she said, then stumbled, the thought making her miss a step. Was that… “Maybe that’s not a bad idea.”
If he took her to the camp, she would be in the same place as the components. If she could figure out how not to be tied up and interrogated herself—or have her moon-mark used against her people—then she could escape and slip away with them…
But how? The stormers wouldn’t let Wreylith get close, and Syla would be surrounded by powerful riders and dragons if she was in their camp. Escaping would be next to impossible unless she thought of something clever.
Suborning Vorik? Suborning someone else in his camp? By healing them, perhaps? The stormers had been in battle. Some would surely be injured. But healing people didn’t always leavethem kindly inclined toward her. Assuming she could suborn any of the stormers would be foolish. She hadn’t even gotten Vorik to choose her over them.
No, intentionally being kidnapped wouldn’t work. Not unless she could think of something brilliant to ensure she could achieve what she wanted. Even if she could… since she was, so far, the only person capable of firing the weapons platform, she needed to stay with it, not let a stormer steal her away.
“Your Majesty?” A fleet officer near the door was looking curiously at her. “Are you all right?”
After coming out on deck, Syla had halted mid-step. The officer wasn’t the only person looking curiously at her. Many men were out, working on repairs from the battle, and Aunt Tibby sat with her books on the weapons platform, though she hadn’t yet noticed Syla.
Beyond the railing, the city of Hazel Harbor stood, most of the buildings still intact, though a few blocks had been destroyed since the last time she’d visited—before the stormer invasion. And here and there, other buildings had been flattened without devastating those around them. Of those still standing, many showed signs of fire damage. How many inhabitants—Kingdom subjects—had died to stormers and their dragons?
“I’m fine,” Syla said, though she wasn’t. She was letting her feelings get in the way of her duty. “Is the fleet commander here?”
