Page 131 of The Queens and the Kings
“We have twenty more minutes,” she whispered to fill the void, “don’t you think?”
He chirruped.
Britt crept along the wall with her right hand. To her left, the wall opened like a starless sky. The same smell lay thick here. A wyvern, for sure. They might have found it. But how was it so quiet? So steady? Was it arcane?
“Wyvern?”
The question rippled, as if she'd tentatively set it down to see what would happen. From not far away, a soft hiss slid through the air. Denerfen perked up with an answering chirrup. A louder chirp replied.
The wyverns could chirp?
Heart in her throat, Britt angled toward the sound. “Wyvern?”
Rustling, leathery wings beckoned her deeper into the darkness. She thought she heard splintering boards, muffled shouts. Something arcane must quieten this space. If the ship truly was a merchant ship, or part of a shipping armada, the owner might have arcane that kept noise to a minimum, so that animals remained calm in their hold.
Quicksilver flashed in the darkness, so fast she might have imagined it. Britt froze.
Denerfen chirped a test sound. A low growl replied in a rumbling bass. The hair on the back of her neck stood straightup. Her only hope lay in one fragile, tenuous thread: this unexpected connection between dragul and wyvern. Something must exist between the species, because Denerfen showed no fear of the wyvern. He hadn’t, either, on the night the wyvern swept by.
What did it mean?
Anything?
“Go,” she whispered to Denerfen.
His wings beat a steady, quiet rhythm as he soared into the dark. She paused another fifteen seconds, allowing him to explore, perhaps disarm the wyvern. Every beat of her heart exploded like cannon fire.
“Wyvern,” she whispered, “we mean you no harm. My dragul and I have come to figure out what’s going on, but now . . .”
She trailed off.
Yet again, their plan failed on launch. She’d made it into the ship, and immediately locked herself into a hold with a ferocious Wyvern King.
Lovely.
There must be other ways out—how else would they get the wyvern in here?—but she had little chance of discovering those paths. The sailors would be hard on her heels in minutes. If she could find another exit, she’d scamper above the deck and be on her way.
Except . . . Wyvern Kings.
Tempests.
And a gut-deep feeling that all wasn’t as it seemed. No one spoke kindly about the Wyvern Kings, but maybe . . .
. . . maybe they weren’t that bad. An unexpected opportunity presented itself. Pedr wouldn’t take it. Maybe not Henrik, either.
She was neither of them.
“Change of plans, Den,” she whispered. “We’re setting the Wyvern King free.”
Air brushed her cheeks as Denerfen chirruped gaily, swirling loops around her head. “Did you hear that, Wyvern King? We’re going to set you free.”
A breathy sound, like something sweeping toward her, answered. Air rushed over her cheeks. She lifted a hand and let it fall to her side. No audible response from the wyvern. An insistent and steadythud thud thudbecame more apparent with every passing second. Whatever barrier muffled sounds, it would soon fail.
Britt approached, however slowly.
“You have three options. Do nothing and stay captive; claw me to death, which I really don’t prefer; or escape with me and prevent all of us from dying in this horrific storm. The Siren Queens are going to bash you to death with the incoming storm, no matter how powerful your current.”
The boat lurched at that moment, sending her flying forward. She flailed, caught herself, and skidded several steps before righting.
