I wouldn’t consider it unctuous.
Slimy,Wreylith corrected.Many of your salves are slimy.
Dragons may experience tactile sensations differently than humans, but I maintain that nothing I craft is slimy. And the nail salve speeds the healing process, I believe by as much as three times the usual rate. Once all this chaos is over, I hope to perform a few tests on the new formulation to prove that, but I’m sure you’ll appreciate— Oh, never mind. My medical kit and my pack are still in the carriage. Damn, I could use both for the next stage of our journey. Will you?—
Wreylith sprang into the air.You are a most needy rider.
It’syourbroken claws that I’m thinking of, but, uh, please prioritize finding the others so we can help them.
“Launch the dinghies,” Hixun called as Wreylith headed inland again.
Without the heavy sphere, the return trip went quickly. Smoke wafted up from burning buildings near the glassworks, but the fire didn’t look to have spread. Good. Syla didn’t want Tabuvar to be financially ruined—or be hurt himself—because he’d dared help them.
Uniformed men continued to flood the streets of Lyvor. Most of the civilian citizens had wisely hidden themselves indoors. Wreylith flew over the glassworks, but Syla didn’t see Tibby, Teyla, or her other allies below. Had they already left for the cove?
Near the guard towers at the entrance to town, shouts and the cracks of hand cannons rang out.
“That way,” Syla urged, guessing her comrades were at the heart of the chaos.
They soon came into view on the road heading out of town. Fel and Vonla had gotten a horse team with a wagon and were charging toward the towers, with Celena, Tibby, the Royal Protectors, and the numerous packs from the carriage bouncing in the back. The eyes of the horses were wide with fear—had they been running in a less confined area, they might have taken off, fleeing all the chaos of the city. Instead, they galloped toward the towers—and four squads of men crouched there with their weapons out.
Try to knock them out of the way without killing them, please, Syla told Wreylith as they flew closer.
The way the red dragon flapped her wings harder, arrowing toward the troops with smoke streaming from her nostrils, made Syla worry she would do things her own way. Maybe her broken claws were irritating her.
“Get out of the way!” Syla shouted toward the guards.
Wreylith opened her maw to roar.
The men glanced in her direction, then sprinted to the sides of the road. Wreylith flew low over the spot they’d vacated and roared again, but she didn’t spew fire. The horses pulling the carriage saw her and tried to veer to the side, but they were too hemmed in by buildings and the towers. They ran through the vacated area, sweat gleaming on their coats as they tore out of the city and toward the highway.
Some of the guards ran out from under cover, as if they might follow, but Wreylith turned around. She flew down and landed in the road, facing them and roaring.
Behind her, Syla’s allies continued away from the city. From the top of one of the towers, someone fired an arrow at thewagon. It hit the tailgate, embedding in the wood. Wreylith twisted her neck and sent a gout of fire toward the tower. The archer flung himself out of view. The troops in the street also decided not to stick around with a dragon blocking the way. They disappeared into the city.
Once the wagon was out of view, hurrying on its way to the cove, Wreylith sprang into the air again. She followed it, flying leisurely high above, but not so high above that the horses didn’t notice.
“Those poor creatures,” Syla said, glad they didn’t have to travel far. They would work themselves to death if they had to run far at that speed. She was amazed that Fel and Vonla were keeping them going in the right direction.
Cannons boomed in the distance, and Syla grimaced. “That sounded like it came from the cove.”
Shall I fly back in that direction or accompany your minions and their wagon?Wreylith asked.
They’re my friends, and we’d better check on our ships.
Is your medical kit among the bags tucked into that wagon?
I hope they grabbed it.
Perhaps we should accompany it to ensure it reaches its destination.
So I can tend to your claws?
I am a mighty and powerful dragon, and my claws will heal adequately on their own.
But you’d endure a little salve if it promoted good health, right?
A minute amount, providing it is not slimy.
