“Youcamebecause ten archers stood at the top of the mine shaft with their bows pointed at you when you crawled out,” Fel said.
“Of course,” Vorik murmured, with a smile.
Syla snorted. They both knew Vorik could have escaped if he’d wanted to. And Fel, who’d fought Vorik numerous times, knew it too—even if he didn’t want to admit it.
“Are turtle shells what Wreylith is in the mood for?” Vorik asked.
“She said she would prefer turtleeggs,” Syla said, “but it’s not the season.”
Vorik gazed up at the top of the wheelhouse, then looked toward where Agrevlari continued to float, letting the ship pull him along like a very large fishing lure. “Interesting. Do you think…”
He trailed off when Major Hixun walked up with Captain Vonla, her uniform crisp and her black hair pulled back in a flawless bun. Though she had a few bruises on her face, and her forearm was bandaged, part of the wrap visible under her sleeve, she looked impeccable, especially given the days at sea, the battles, and the sinking of their original ship.
Syla, who’d lost her trunk of clothing to the river, felt less well-groomed. She’d borrowed a few serviceable items from Lady Abrya, since she doubted she would be able to walk straight up to her suite in the castle, but wished she could go home to her closet, her bathtub, and her books. Reading historical accountings of castle coups and battles for the throne was far more appealing than being involved in them.
“We’ll round the point soon, Your Majesty,” Major Hixun said. The fleet commander had died in one of the battles, and Hixun seemed to be jointly in charge with a senior officer that Lord Oyenar had sent along. “We’ve surprisingly not yet seen any ships out patrolling even the protected waters along the coast of Castle Island. Is there any chance the information you received about dozens of Kingdom vessels being summoned from other islands could be in error?” He looked toward Wreylith.
Syla had been letting people assume her dragon ally had been the one to originally report the changing of the flag on Garden Castle and the status of the fleet in Sky Torn Harbor. It was Vorik and Agrevlari who’d flown over the area and reported the news to her. She, of course, believed Vorik fully, but others might not consider herprisonera reliable source. It amused her that they believed her sword-iglet-distracted dragon to be one.
“I don’t think so. Hold on.” Syla held up a finger as she silently asked,Wreylith, will you fly ahead again and get an update on what we’re in for when we arrive?
Certainly. Do you wish to accompany me?
Yes, but my bodyguard might object.
Wreylith stretched her neck toward them, startling Syla by plucking her up and tossing her onto her back. It happened so quickly that Syla barely had the chance to flatten her spectacles to her face so they wouldn’t fall off.
“Your Majesty!” several alarmed voices cried.
Even Vorik blinked in surprise.
Fel swore and reached for his mace before seeming to realize he couldn’t attack his charge’s dragonally. “Where are you going, Syla?” he barked, dropping theYour Majesty.
“To scout,” Syla called as Wreylith bunched her muscles and launched from the top of the wheelhouse.
Syla flattened her palms to the dragon’s scales and extended tendrils of magic like anchors to hold herself in place.
“Queens don’tscout!” Fel called.
“I’ll go with her,” Vorik said and ran toward the stern of the ship.
“Prisoners don’t scout either,” Hixun said, and waved for men to intercept them.
Vorik called upon his magically enhanced strength and agility to somersault over the heads of the men racing toward him. He alighted on the railing, then leaped overboard asAgrevlari rolled onto his belly. Vorik landed on his back a second before the green dragon flapped his wings rapidly, momentarily looking more like a duck, as he took off from the water, than a majestic predator. Once he gained altitude, his wingbeats grew calmer and more powerful as he flew after Wreylith.
The red dragon turned her head and roared at him. It didn’t sound like an invitation.
Agrevlari roared back. It sounded… playful.
“I believe our dragons are flirting,” Vorik called as Agrevlari caught up with Wreylith so that they could fly side-by-side toward Castle Island.
“Yourdragon is flirting. Mine wants to tear his tail off.”
“I don’t think so.” Vorik shook his head. “She let him catch up.”
Wreylith roared again and breathed fire in his direction.
“It’s easier to roast someone who’s nearby,” Syla said.
