Page 58 of Sky Shielder
Where did she get that, do you think?Vorik asked.It’s a krendala, isn’t it? I’ve only heard of them before, not seen one. Nobody left in this era knows how to make them, do they?
I’ve seen a few of the magical tools that allow bonded humans and dragons to communicate from across great distances, but I believe you are correct that centuries have passed since new ones have been made. As far as I’m aware, the knowledge of how to craft them has been lost. Wreylith, however, is not the youngest of dragons.
You’d better not call her old when she’s close enough to overhear, or she’ll light your tail on fire.
I did not say she isold,Agrevlari said.Dragons may live many centuries; some have even reputedly survived for a thousand years. Wreylith is not old but mature, which makes her wise and powerful and extremely…
Sexy?
She is that.Agrevlari rose from his reclining spot in the grass and stretched like a cat, his tail swishing back and forth.She sets the libidos of many male dragons ablaze.
Despite her aloofness?
Perhaps that is part of the appeal. That which is not easy to obtain is valued greatly. Did you know she reputedly killed the last male who sought to court her? She mated with him to sate her urges, then slew him, like a black-widow spider or the legendary female morisaka.
I know the possibility of being killed afterward gets me eager for sex.
I think it’s possible your Captain Lesva would slay a mate who didn’t satisfy her.
Vorik snorted.Thatispossible.
My point in bringing up age is that Wreylith may have been bondedto a human in the time when makers with the knowledge to craft krendalas still existed. That figurine is most certainly linked to her.
Vorik watched Syla turn it over and over in her hand. He didn’t sense her using her magic to activate the power within the figurine, but might she be contemplating it?
Wreylith couldn’t ever have been bonded to a human,Vorik replied as he debatedwhySyla might want to reach out to the red dragon again. Wreylith had, however inadvertently, almost killed her. She would be foolish to want to interact with the dragon again.She has utter scorn for riders—and those of your kind who allow themselves to be ridden.
I’ve, alas, been the recipient of many of her comments on that and agree that it does seem unlikely, but… the krendala exists.
Yeah.Vorik sensed a trickle of magic flowing from Syla and into the krendala.
Bloody daggers, shewastrying to draw the red dragon’s attention.
Vorik jogged over, hoping to stop her before it was too late. Syla had her shoulder toward him and didn’t seem to notice his approach until he reached out to touch her hand.
Syla jumped, dropping the figurine and spinning toward him with alarm widening her eyes.
“I apologize.” Vorik stepped back. He’d meant to interrupt her but not startle her. She must have been quite focused on the figurine not to have noticed his approach. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“You didn’tscareme.” Syla scowled at him and picked up the krendala to hold protectively to her chest. “I didn’t see you coming.”
Her spectacles had slipped down her nose, and she pushed them up as she took another step back from him. A touch of enlightenment came to him as he realized they might affect her peripheral vision—or maybe it was that they couldn’t correct for eye weakness to the sides.
“I didn’t mean tostartleyou,” he said, hoping she would object less to that word. “But I was concerned by… Ah, did youintendto draw the red dragon to you again?”
“Yes. There are four of us, and your dragon can only carry two.”
Vorik gaped at her. “Wreylithisn’t going to carry you. She scorns all dragons who bond with humans or let themselves be ridden at any time.”
Agrevlari let out a mournful rumble.
“I didn’t presume it would be easy to talk her into it,” Syla said, “but I want to try. It would be faster to ride from here to Harvest Island than to find an undamaged ship and a willing captain to take us aboard.”
The aunt headed in their direction. Tibby, Vorik reminded himself. She scowled at Fel as she approached. Even though Agrevlari had destroyed the other machine, Tibby seemed less inclined to glower at him. The bodyguard, who was keeping an eye on Vorik while discussing lizards with the stableboy or whatever that kid was, didn’t acknowledge the aunt’s ire.
“If she comes at all, it might be to kill you,” Vorik warned Syla. “You may think you did her a favor by pulling out that fang, but the wild dragons never feel beholden to humans. If anything, they think we should serve them and give them offerings since we’re supposedly a lesser species.”
I do enjoy when you give me smoked salmon. Oh, and the whale-blubber pemmican that your people make in the winter. What is that delightful seasoning you put in it?
