“If they have to bargain hard and give up something for it… it’ll mean more. They’llwantit more, and maybe there’ll be less plotting later on. Gifts aren’t cherished as much as something that is fought, clawed, and striven for.”
“That’s a fair point, although you cherished the first blackberry cobbler I gave you.”
“Oh, I worked for that cobbler. The thorns scratched up my hands while I was gathering berries, and I had to save your life a couple of times before you had any interest in baking for me.”
“Another fair point.”
“I’m an excellent pointer.”
“I never had to do a lot of negotiating in the temple. I may need more practice.”
“You’ll learn. Especially if you have to deal with our tribes on a regular basis. We’re difficult.”
“Really. I never would have guessed.”
Vorik smiled and contemplated kissing her, but the whinny of a horse drifted across a field to them.
“Someone’s here,” he said.
“It should be Teyla.” Full darkness had fallen, and Syla stepped outside to peer across the field and canal toward the road leading to the farmhouse. “Yes, there’s her carriage, but…”
Vorik joined her outside. “She picked up followers. Enforcers?”
There weren’t any lights burning around the farmhouse or on the road leading to it. He could make out silhouettes—several riders on horses followed behind the carriage—but couldn’t tell if they wore uniforms.
“It’s possible enforcers stole Teyla’s carriage and have already arrested her,” Syla said.
“I’ll check on it,” Vorik said as the horses pulled to a stop at the fence in front of the farmhouse. The carriage door opened, and someone hopped out.
“Syla?” came a distant call.
“Oh, good. That is Teyla.”
Syla didn’t immediately call back though, not until Teyla added, “Are you out here? There’s a fleet captain with me who says she’s in your employ. She has two Royal Protectors with her, or I might not have believed her.”
“It’s Captain Vonla, Your Majesty,” came another familiar voice.
“I’ll be right there,” Syla called back across the field, then lowered her voice to add, “Now that all the farmers in the area know I’m here.”
Vorik snorted, but the parcel of land was so large that he doubted people on neighboring farms had heard the calls. “Your people aren’t being that helpful with your attempt to make a stealthy trip across your island.”
“I think the stealth plan blew up when Wreylith lit an enforcer wagon on fire.”
“Possibly so. Per our previous discussion, it can be challenging to engage in stealth while riding a dragon.”
Syla headed down the road instead of cutting across the field in the dark, and Vorik started after her, but an uneasy sensation crept over him. His instincts told him that he was being watched. Was someone out there spying from the fields? Maybe the calls had been unwise after all.
As Teyla and the captain headed up the road to meet Syla, Vorik stopped and looked all around. He also looked up, a lifetime of experience reminding him that threats often came from above. He almost admonished himself since that wasn’t the case on the shielded island, but he scanned the night sky just in case.
The rain had stopped, but the clouds remained dense, so no moon or stars brightened the expanse, but he spotted movement high above. A dragon flying over the barrier, looking down upon Castle Island. And was that… a rider? As keen as Vorik’s eyes were, he struggled to make out the dark figures against the dark clouds.
Agrevlari? Are you still near?
I’m not far but not close. The dragons that were meeting on the Island of Eliok are departing, heading to Froha, likely for the great congregation of the tribes. One dragon has chosen a route that carries him over Castle Island. One who is not pleased with either of us.
Ozlemar?Vorik was too far below the dragon to sense him, but the blackness of his scales seemed absolute.
Yes.
