Two more uniformed men stepped out of a building with a woman gripped between them, her nightdress flapping around her ankles, her feet bare. Fury burned in her eyes as she struggled. Was that a moon-mark on the back of her hand?
Indignant, Syla almost leaped out to help the woman herself, but Fel fired a crossbow quarrel into one of her captors’ shoulders. Releasing his prisoner, the enforcer wheeled away. The other man pulled the woman in front of him to use as a shield.
Furious, Syla launched herself out of the wagon. The enforcer half-drew a sword but must not have believed a woman in a cloak could be a threat.
“Release her!” Syla demanded as her moon-mark flared silver, adding power to her voice.
“Another one!” the man blurted, looking at her hand.
Syla rushed forward, darted around the woman, and gripped the enforcer’s wrist. He hadn’t drawn his sword fully and started to push her away, but her power flowed into him, and she clenched it around his throat in warning—and to scare him.
Eyes widening, he released the woman.
“Run,” Syla told her, keeping her grip on the enforcer so her magic would continue to affect him.
“Yes, my lady.” The woman darted to the side, but she glanced back, almost tripping as surprise widened her eyes. Syla’s hood had fallen back, and the woman corrected herself. “Yes,Your Majesty!”
A shadow at Syla’s side made her jump, but it was Vorik. She released the enforcer. Gagging and gasping, the man ran back into the building.
“Didn’t we decide you should hide in the wagon?” Vorik touched Syla’s back and guided her toward it—it had run up onto a wooden sidewalk, gotten stuck, and the horses were neighing protests.
“I was needed elsewhere.”
“Thereisa lot of danger to deal with on your island.”
“I’m noticing. Trust me. Thank you, Fel,” Syla added when she and Vorik reached the wagon. Jibbs had also caught up to it. “I’ll help you find a nice retirement property once I’m back on the throne.”
Syla looked toward the cloudy night sky. Thanks to Vorik and Fel, she might not have needed to call Wreylith to help, but she could sense the dragon approaching.
“I didn’t realize that queens performed such services,” Tibby said, clutching the shielder components to her chest. The wagon had tipped sideways, and she looked rattled.
“Oh, yes. I’m also finding Wreylith a cave.”
“Do me a favor,” Fel said, “and make sure my retirement property isn’tnextto that cave.”
“Are you sure?” Syla asked as a great roar came from the sky nearby.
The stone and brick buildings along the street kept them from seeing the dragon, but Wreylith was, without a doubt, approaching. The remaining enforcers scrambled away and disappeared into alleys. The horses hitched to the wagon squealed in alarm as the red dragon landed on a large adobe building at the corner of the next intersection. It had an ornate door in the front, with a sign above it, as well as tall carriage doors on the side for deliveries. The sign readTabuvar’s Glassworks.
“My poor horses.” Jibbs tried to settle the team as he looked warily toward Wreylith.
An enforcer stepped out the front door of the building, jaw descending as he looked up at the roof. Wreylith’s talons were curled over the edge, and she opened her maw, and plucked the man up before he could jump back inside.
Syla lifted a hand, not sure if the enforcer was part of the raid—or whatever it was. But she wasn’t fast enough to stop Wreylith, and the dragon flexed her neck and tossed her captive over three buildings. A cry of pain came from the alley that he disappeared into.
Vorik touched Syla’s shoulder and pointed into the doorway of the glassworks. A couple of lamps burned inside, and she could make out someone’s legs sticking out from behind a workbench. Was that… Tabuvar?
“They must be trying to round up everyone in the city with a moon-mark tonight.” Jibbs looked stunned, even though he’d been the one to warn them that such activities were ongoing. The earlier raids must have been on a smaller scale.
You are welcome,Wreylith stated.I hope you’ve learned tonight that dragons are a necessity, not a distraction.
I have learned that, yes.Syla didn’t point out that they’d been doing all right on their own. If a dragon was willing to help, one shouldn’t downplay her contribution. Syla assisted Aunt Tibby down from the wagon, and they walked toward the glassworks with Fel and Vorik, the men’s weapons still out as they eyed their surroundings.I’ve also learned it was pointless for me to think I could sneak around Castle Island.
Queens are also a necessity, not a distraction. They should stride regally with their heads high, notsneak, like furtive rats scurrying about in the back of a cave.
I’ll keep that in mind.
You clearly need a dragon advisor familiar with history to assist you in this endeavor.
