“I don’t have any engineering skills to lend. Unless I canheala sky shielder into existence, there’s little I can offer her except to hold her tools. Fel is probably handling that for her.”
“I’ll come with you to watch your back wherever you want to go.” Vorik nodded to her.
“You’re a good friend, Vorik.”
“Friend?” He offered a smile. “Was it our friendship that prompted you to cry my name repeatedly last night?”
“No, that was your fingers. And your tongue. They’re very… prompting.”
“Indeed.”
Syla headed for Wreylith.
“Where to next?” Vorik asked. “You told Captain Vonla to meet you here, right?”
“Yes, but not until tomorrow. I think it’s time to visit the capital.”
“The last time you flew near it, people fired cannonballs at you and your dragon.”
“You say that as if it’s a unique experience.”
“Well, it’s not forme.” Vorik flattened a hand to his chest. “But as a healer, you might have endured less of that kind of treatment.”
“I do miss the days when people brought me sweets and left coins in the temple offering urns.”
“That’s far more appealing than being shot at, I’d imagine. You’re the only one who’s ever brought me sweets.”
“Maybe you could have been lured over to our side earlier if Kingdom soldiers had tossed cookies at you instead of arrows and cannonballs.” Syla shimmied up Wreylith’s side with a mix of magic and newfound strength and pulled herself astride.
“Muchearlier.” Vorik vaulted up to ride behind her.
After all the violent incidents they’d had with her people, he had misgivings about heading to the capital, especially during daylight hours, but he also felt an urgency to help Syla resolve her problem before the meeting with the tribes. If he could tell them he was aligned with the Kingdom ruler, maybe it would make a difference in swaying people to his side.
Sadly, thinking one could reclaim a throne and vanquish one’s political enemies in two days was probably naive. But, aside from having his assistance, Syla had a dragon to help. Maybe that would be enough.
8
There isa matter I must speak with you about,Wreylith said as she flapped her wings, following the road away from Lake Ferringtar and toward the highway. Clouds had rolled back in from the sea with rain threatening again.
Do you have any idea who murdered Lord Abbingdar?Syla was gnawing over that in her mind, not wanting to believe it had been Teyla—she wouldn’t have killed her own father, even if he’d been complicit in her confinement. But who else would have attacked him? Abbingdar had beenalignedwith the people who’d taken power.
I do not know who that is.
Teyla’s father. The man we found dead on his bedroom floor.
Granted, the dragon had been by the stable and hadn’t seen inside the manor, but Wreylith always seemed to be monitoring Syla’s conversations, and sometimes even her thoughts, through their link.
At that time, I believe I was contemplating how the flavor of domesticated equines might compare to the undomesticated variety.
The wild ones are more of a challenge to hunt down. I’m sure they taste much better. You’d better stick with those.
Indeed. The matter on my mind…Wreylith banked to follow the highway past farms and small villages as it headed toward Sky Torn Harbor and the castle.I believe you may have already suspected this, but I will lay a clutch of eggs this winter.
Yes, there have been some signs.Syla smiled at Vorik’s term,nesting imperative.
Hm. It is unexpected. This is an atypical time of year for dragons to lay. Further, as an older female, I’m less fertile than I once was. My last clutch was many, many years ago. Long before you were born, certainly.
Have you, uhm, mated much since then?
