Syla wanted to say that the general’s death wasn’t Vorik’s fault, but, according to Vorik, it absolutely was. And Tibby, who’d glimpsed some of their fight before trying to bring the mine ceiling down on both of them, had implied the same.
“We mightbothhave assassins after us going forward,” Syla murmured.
“How fun for us to share a common predicament.”
“Undoubtedly.”
4
After dinghies carried Vorik,Syla, Fel, and Tibby to shore, Vorik tried to get the group moving quickly. Steep, rocky slopes surrounded the cove on three sides, leaving only a small pebbly beach and a couple of trails leading to the top of a bluff. In such a vulnerable spot, enemies could easily look down upon them. Orshootdown upon them. Worse, twilight was creeping over the island. That would make it easier for enemies to hide.
Vorik didn’t know the route to the town of Lyvor and the glassworks Tibby wanted to visit, so he couldn’t jog off in the lead, but he felt urgency to help Syla’s quest along as quickly as possible. Though he and Syla had joked about the stormers sending assassins after him, Vorik wasn’t positive that ithadbeena joke. After seeing Wise for a second time—had he been assigned to circle the island and search for him?—Vorik worried that he would have to deal with his people sooner than he’d like.
Another party was heading off from the landing spot as well, so it took time for everyone to get organized. The fleet captain who’d said she would attempt to lead the locals to believe she was Syla stood nearby, now wearing a hooded cloak. Further, the major had come ashore and drawn Syla aside, pointing at Vorikand whispering. Understandably, the man didn’t trust Vorik, but Vorik chafed at the delay. The open beach left him feeling uneasy, and he kept glancing toward the sky—a habitual stormer tendency—only to remind himself that, aside from Wreylith, he wouldn’t spot any dragons or wyverns here.
Unlike on Harvest Island, where more was apparently going on than he’d believed. The dragons convening in a cave had to be plotting something.
Agrevlari, are you in the area?Vorik asked.
Yes, pining with loneliness because I can’t follow you onto the island.
Because you can’t follow me or because you can’t follow Wreylith?
She flirted with me earlier. Did you see?
Was that when she roared and showed her fangs?
Indeed.
Are you sure that was flirting?
Undeniably. I have not yet asked her if your hypothesis is correct.
That she’s with eggs?
Yes. I am, however, thinking much upon it. If it is true, it is possible that I am the sire. Do you believe she would wish the assistance of a male in raising her young?
I don’t know, Agrevlari. Have you spoken with Tonasketal?Vorik was more concerned about what the stormer-allied dragons were doing than Wreylith’s egg-laying proclivities.I saw him flying off the coast with Lieutenant Wise again.
None of our ally dragons have spoken to me, despite my clear presence in the area.
Have you tried to speak tothem?Vorik wondered if Agrevlari felt the same dread at explaining their disobedience. No, it had beenmorethan that. The memory of Vorik’s battle with his brother filled his mind often.
But Vorik had been behind all that. His dragon ally shouldn’t feel that he’d done anything wrong. From what Vorik had observed over the years, dragons rarely felt in the wrong even when they arguably were.
I have not,Agrevlari said,but— Ah.
What is it?
Wingleader Saleetha is flying around the Island of Bogs. I can sense her powerful presence, and I believe… Yes, she is with Chieftess Shi’s bonded dragon Uxtar. I wonder if Ozlemar is there also. I do not sense him.
Vorik grimaced. His brother’s dragon probably knew exactly what had happened in the mine. After Jhiton’s death, he might have gone off to grieve, inasmuch as dragons did for humans, but he would inevitably share news of Vorik’s betrayal. And Vorik couldn’t pretend it had been anything but that.
Movement atop one of the bluffs surrounding the beach drew his eye. A cloaked man with a bow crouched up there. And another, ten feet away, also leaned out over the cliff. That man raised a crossbow.
“Fel,” Vorik barked, running toward the cliff, and added, “Down, Syla!” as he started to climb.
With instincts and power that had grown more keen since her bonding, Syla dove behind one of the beached dinghies. Fel ran to protect her as the first arrow landed, clinking into the pebbles in the spot where she’d been standing.
