Fel drew his mace as if he might smash the dragon on the flank to keep him from taking off with his charge, but Agrevlari gave him a baleful look and growled fiercely, no hint of aharrumphmixed in.
“What am I supposed to do?” Fel spun toward Aunt Tibby as Agrevlari sprang into the air.
“Solve problems with tools other than a mace?” she suggested.
“You don’t think a mace is the appropriate tool to use when a dragon is kidnapping your queen?”
“Gargoyle-bone blades are more effective,” Vorik called to the bodyguard as Agrevlari flew over the railing.
Fel turned his back to Aunt Tibby before making an obscene gesture toward Vorik.
“Your bodyguard hasn’t warmed up to me yet,” Vorik observed.
Syla settled behind him, her arms wrapped around his waist. “Not many of my allies have. Until recently, you’ve been determined to work with the enemy.”
“Theyaremy people.”
“I know.” She squeezed him, then adjusted her spectacles and rested her cheek against the back of his shoulder.
Vorik hadn’t expected her to hop onto Agrevlari with him and wished they could fly off in such an embrace for a long, leisurely flight followed by a picnic somewhere, but the three ships were firing range-finding shots with their cannons. Sighing, Vorik touched Agrevlari’s shoulder, though the dragon didn’t need any guidance—except perhaps when it came to gentleness.
Dodging cannon fire, Agrevlari flew toward the lead ship. Vorik wished he had his bow, but he’d lost it during one of the battles and had only his sword. He drew it in case Agrevlari dove close enough for him to use it, but, with Syla behind him, he planned to let the dragon handle the attack.
And Agrevlari gleefully whipped, banked, rolled, and dove, biting and slashing with fangs and talons whenever he flew close enough.
“Aim for the hull, please,” Syla called. “Not people! Iknowyou have good aim, Agrevlari.”
Vorik looked over his shoulder, curious about what she referenced.
“Well, I assume he’s the one who, uhm, impregnated Wreylith. If your guess is right and she is… with egg? Is that what you would say?”
“Witheggs, yes, you could say that. I’m not sure that act is quite the same as loosing arrows at a target on an archery range.”
“So, aim wasn’t required?”
“I suppose I’ve not had the exact experience so shouldn’t attempt to speak with authority.”
What Agrevlari thought of the conversation, Vorik didn’t know, but the dragondiddive low and target the hulls of the ship with great bites that tore into the wood. He could easily have streamed gouts of fire onto the decks, but he refrained. Unfortunately, the crewmen didn’t refrain from targetinghim. In addition to cannonballs, arrows and crossbow quarrels launched from the ships. Syla tensed behind Vorik.
Using his sword, he deflected an arrow, glad for the magic that made such an act possible, since he didn’t have another way to defend Syla. Interestingly, the projectiles focused more on Agrevlari than on his riders. As they flew from ship to ship, the dragon biting to leave holes in hulls and snap masts in half, not all of the crew raised the weapons they held. Several were whispering to each other and pointing at Syla, despite officers running around, ordering all hands to fire and, “Bring that dragon down!”
“This may not have been wise,” Syla said as Vorik deflected another arrow, one that had been streaking toward her head.
Notallof the crew were hesitating to fire at her.
“Your bodyguard did imply that,” Vorik said. “I may be a bad influence on you.”
“You’re ascandalouslybad influence.”
“And yet, your arms are tighter than ever about me.”
“I’m trying to mold myself to your back to use you for a shield.”
“Stop firing, men!” someone called. “That’s the queen!”
“But she’s dead!” someone else called.
“I thought she was kidnapped!”
