Is someone riding him?Was it his imagination or was a cloak flapping behind that rider? It couldn’t be…
Jhiton,Agrevlari said with certainty.
It can’t be. He’s dead. I slid my own blade into his gut an instant before the ceiling collapsed on him. And then the entire mine flooded.
Nonetheless, that is who rides Ozlemar.
Vorik shook his head, unable to believe that even a rider gifted with the magic of a dragon bond could have survived all that.
You already knew that Captain Lesva found a way out of the mine,Agrevlari pointed out.
Yes, but I didn’t drive a sword into her or watch tons of rock drop on her head.
The black dragon continued past without slowing, but Vorik couldn’t believe the trajectory had been accidental. Somehow, Ozlemar had known where Vorik was and had been checking on him.Jhitonhad been checking on him.
For a moment, Vorik started to feel relief and even delight that he hadn’t succeeded in killing his brother—he’d never wanted that—but… if Jhitonwasalive, he would be pissed at Vorik. Very pissed. And if he was heading to the meeting of the tribes, he would add his voice to Lesva’s in explaining in precise detail how Vorik had betrayed him and their people.
Vorik bent and gripped his knees. He felt compelled to fight for the tribe and try to sway his people, but that seemed more of an impossibility than ever.
10
When Syla had mentionedthat Celena from the brothel might be a good person to speak with, she hadn’t expected Captain Vonla to bring her along. But, glad for any information she could get, she stood with the group in front of the farmhouse and listened intently as Celena spoke.
“I’ve heard that Lord Fograthvisitsthe castle, Your Majesty, but he hasn’t taken up residence there. He’s just presumptuously hanging his family’s flag from the battlements.Sopresumptuous! From what people are saying, he’s not staying in his manor at the edge of the capital either. I figure the military men he orders around know where he is, and I’ve been listening for details, the way I told you I would, but I haven’t caught his location yet.”
Captain Vonla stood in front of the carriage and horses, also listening, though she’d probably heard the information already. One of the Royal Protectors walked around, lighting lanterns on the fence and farmhouse to go along with two mounted beside the carriage door. There was enough illumination for Syla to see Celena’s lean, tired face but also the bright earnestness in her eyes as she spoke.
Even though the magically-induced gratitude and desire to please should have worn off in the weeks since Syla had healed her, Celena had fallen to her knees with relief when she’d walked up. Apparently, Fograth had not only been spreading rumors that Syla was dead, but he’d had Relvin publish an article to further convince people of the falsehood. An obituary. Thanks to Vonla, who’d found a copy of the newspaper in the capital, Syla held it under her arm. She hadn’t been that tempted to read its lies yet. Or see what Relvin had written about her life when he’d penned the obituary.
“If he’s not staying in the castle, I suppose flying over the courtyard walls on a dragon, jumping down inside, and fighting my way to the throne room to deal with him wouldn’t work.” Syla had thought that sounded suicidal, but when Vorik had suggested it, she’d allowed herself to grow wistful at the idea of a simple solution.
“I… wouldn’t think so, Your Majesty,” Celena said. “Are you a brilliant sword master? Like your mother? And your sisters were known to challenge soldiers to practice too.”
“I’m not, but Iknowa brilliant sword master.” Syla looked back toward the machine shop.
For some reason, Vorik hadn’t followed her to the farmhouse, but she sensed that he was still over there. Maybe he’d spotted Celena on one of the horses and worried the presence of a stormer would alarm a woman not familiar with him.
“And you have adragon. That brilliant and beautiful red dragon.” Celena looked around. “But she’s not here, is she? She’s been spotted flying around the countryside without a rider, and people are afraid that means the obituary is true, that youdiddie in the fighting at Harvest Island. They think she’s trapped here forever, not able to escape the barrier without a link to you.Some think she’ll haunt all the people on Castle Island for all eternity.”
“She would more likely haunt their livestock.” Syla paused to consider that Wreylithmightbe trapped on the island if someone succeeded in killing her. Even with Syla still among the living, the dragon’s ability to fly through the Bogberry Island barrier had come with difficulties. The shielders, it seemed, were persnickety. “Maybe she would have to find someone else with a moon-mark to bond with so she could escape.” Syla smiled at the thought of Aunt Tibby riding on Wreylith’s back, though the dragon would be more likely to pick someone like Teyla. “She would find a way out, I’m sure.”
“Your Majesty?” Celena asked.
“Sorry. I’m musing to myself. Wreylith is elsewhere on the island, distracting people for me.” Syla decided not to mention her dragon’s interest in searching for caves.
“Did you hear any news in the city about my father?” Teyla asked Captain Vonla as much as Celena. “About his death and why someone would have killed him in the first place? It sounds like… from Syla’s description, it wasn’t an accident.”
“It was not,” Syla said.
“But nobody on the estate should have had a reason to kill him,” Teyla continued. “He wasn’t alwaysmymost staunch supporter, especially when he locked me in my room with those stupid books, but he wasn’t cruel in general. We were never that close, especially after Mother passed, but he didn’t collect enemies.Relvinrubs a lot of people the wrong way, but Father was subtler about his ambitions.”
“I didn’t hear anything about that, my Lady,” Vonla said.
“His death was recent,” Syla pointed out. “This morning, we think. So the news probably hasn’t made it to the capital yet.”
“I suppose,” Teyla said, “but if some of the staff left, news like that could spread rapidly.”
“It sounds like I’ll have to go to the capital myself to search for Fograth.” Syla had planned to head there anyway. She was more concerned about getting the throne back than anything else; once she had control again, she could have the murder of Teyla’s father investigated. But how would she find Fograth if she had to skulk around and worry about being spotted at every turn?
