With so many cannonballs flying, and theStormslicermaneuvering, trying to pass the enemy vessels and reach the barrier, Syla struggled to keep the wheeling and diving dragons in sight, but she knew they were coming at her. And on the other side, the dragons harrying Wreylith were also closer than they had been, their battle sweeping toward the island.
As if Wreylith had noticed her checking, she reported,He is attacking me!
Agrevlari?Syla asked.
Numerous dragons were attacking Wreylith, but that had been a singularhe.
Yes! I will tear his horns off and shove them into his cloaca.
That sounds painful.
It will be!
Though sinking the stormer ships would keep them from sending more people to the island to attack, the dragons were more dangerous to everyone’s lives. Syla shifted her focus to them. She wanted to help Wreylith, but the closer dragons were a greater threat to the fleet—and the weapons platform.
Jhiton’s great winged beast flew past, the general riding on his back and gripping a bow, shooting down at the deck of theStormslicer. A closer yellow dragon was diving toward the weapons platform, talons outstretched.
Though Syla doubted a single dragon could lift what had taken four of their kind to deliver, she had to focus on it. The next magical spheres she launched sped toward the yellow creature. It had almost reached them when the projectiles slammed into its chest. Silver light flared, and it screeched—no,shriekedas its wingbeats faltered. Its momentum carried it into the ship, and men scattered as it slammed onto the deck, snapping wood, then bounced off and splashed into the water on the far side.
Another silver projectile sped away, and it wasn’t Syla’s doing.
Tibby blurted, “Yes!” as it zipped across the water and toward a stormer ship. It blew through one of the vessel’s masts and sped toward the city. Tibby’s next cry was, “No!” as it struck a waterfront building, blowing it to pieces.
“You’ll get it down!” Syla promised, hoping nobody had been inside.
She launched a projectile at the other stormer ship, careful to angle it so that it wouldn’t hit anything important if it went all the way through the vessel. It landed low enough on the hull to ensure the ship would take on water.
Nearby, an arrow pierced one of the Royal Protectors in the throat, and he crumpled to the deck.
Syla gaped, horrified. That would be a fatal wound.
Swearing, she searched the sky for the riders with bows. Cannons boomed from the deck of theStormslicer, but the enemy dragons didn’t have trouble evading them. The ones targeting the ships were more effective.
An arrow clinked off a marble post less than a foot from Syla’s head, and she stumbled back. Cold eyes, face chiseled from granite, General Jhiton stared down at her from his dragon’s back as he nocked another arrow. The bastard was trying to kill her. He’d already killed one of the men defending her.
Syla sprang back to the post, planting her sweaty palm on the mark, determined to get Jhiton. But Fel moved abruptly, startling her. Vorik was running across the deck toward them. Where had he come from?
Men charged at Vorik, but he sprang over their heads, jumping so high that the swings of their weapons didn’t reach him. For an instant, he met Syla’s eyes, shouting, “Move!” before he landed on top of the weapons platform with a soft thud.
Even as archers on deck turned bows toward him, and Fel and the Royal Protectors spun to climb up after him, Vorik raised something above one of the hollow tops of the posts—the barrels that the projectiles fired from. The stolen booby trap.
“Don’t shoot!” Syla yelled to her aunt, imagining the weapon exploding like a blocked cannon.
Before Fel and the Royal Protectors reached the top of the canopy, Vorik dropped the explosive and leaped off. He twisted in the air, anticipating and dodging an arrow speeding toward him.
Magic flared within the post, and the booby trap didn’t go off right away.
Roars above theStormslicermade Syla flinch. She ducked low, not wanting to leave the weapons platform but also feeling vulnerable. Her instincts were right. Jhiton loosed another arrow. It zipped between the platform and its canopy, then clipped the ship’s railing as it sailed away on the far side. By the gods, if she hadn’t ducked at the right moment… it would have pierced her throat.
Vorik had landed, his sword in hand, and clangs erupted as he parried a barrage of blows from men charging at him.
Two types of magic mingled within the post, and Syla thought the weapons platform might have a way to nullify Tibby’s booby trap, but then a thunderous boom came from right above. Though the canopy somewhat protected Syla and Tibby, they wobbled, and Syla lost her grip on the post again. She scrambled back toward it, knowing they would never win if she couldn’t take down more enemy dragons, but she didn’t know if that explosion had damaged the platform. The frameseemed to be intact, but she couldn’t see the opening at the top of the post.
Even as she wondered if she dared try to fire, willing the weapon to use one of the other posts, Vorik battled his way toward her, determination in the set of his jaw. Fel moved to block him, and she scowled, afraid Vorik would slay him to get to her.
“I’m not going with you!” Syla shouted.
More dragons flew closer, one diving for the weapons platform again. Syla leaped up beside Tibby, and they launched weapons at the same time, using the back posts in case the other was destroyed.
