Page 107 of Red Dragon
Syla followed Atilya to the campfires, but she had lost her interest in eating.
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As Vorik layon his side, little light penetrating the hide flaps creating three walls of the room that he’d been placed in, he waited impatiently for voices and sounds of people moving about to die down. Not long ago, one of Atilya’s warriors had come to check on him, and he’d continued to feign unconsciousness.
Hours earlier, Syla had arrived with her allies, and he’d done his best to listen to what she and Captain Atilya had been discussing, but without Agrevlari nearby to facilitate eavesdropping, he hadn’t caught much of it. Only that she was being invited to take ore—he’d had no trouble sensing Wreylith breathing fire to incinerate the rock around the impervious stuff. The men who’d dragged Vorik into this room had brought the amphora with him, setting it and his pack near the rock wall. Only his sword had been taken elsewhere. He would have to find it before he left, then catch up with Syla.
Or would he need to catch up with her? He sensed Wreylith and that orange dragon here with the others of their kind, so Syla ought to still be here. Would she think to ask about the amphora? If she came in to take it, what would he do? It woulddepend on whether she came alone or was accompanied by others.
Vorik flexed his shoulders. He’d already broken the bonds his Freeborn captor had tied around his wrists and ankles. They should have known that such wouldn’t hold him, but they’d probably expected to keep him unconscious with that drug.
Are you still out there, Agrevlari?Vorik asked, trying to use his power to make his words travel farther to reach the dragon.
I am on the next mountain over,came Agrevlari’s distant reply.I’ll fly over there when you’re ready to escape, but I had to hide far enough away that I wouldn’t be sensed. Dragons came out to check and see if we were lingering in the area.
All right. I’m waiting for most of the camp to be asleep so I can sneak out with the shieldercomponents.
You’ve acquired the ore?
Not yet, but I will.It occurred to him that stealing what Syla’s dragon had excavated would be easier than acquiring a piece on his own. But his honor threatened to crumble at the thought of absconding with something else that she’d found. He touched the amphora. Already, he felt like a thief for taking that. Even if he was following orders, his actions were not honorable.
Vorik closed his eyes, wishing he could find another solution. There was a part of him that wanted to gather all three components and give them to Syla. He could even return to the Kingdom with her to help her claim the throne that was rightfully hers.
But what would he tell General Jhiton? And all their tribal leaders?
When the gardeners returned a working shielder to Harvest Island and, with their vastly superior numbers, were able to drive out his people, the stormers would lose all they’d fought for. Yes, they’d claimed some food that would help see themthrough the coming winter, but what about the winter after that? And the one after that?
The flap stirred, and Vorik sensed someone coming in. A soft tick sounded as something hard tapped the stone floor. He half-opened one eye. In the dim light, the person was a shadow, but he or she carried a long slender white object. That was his gargoyle-bone blade. Had someone come to ensure he didn’twake up in the morning?
A strange scent came in with the person, stirred by the flap as it closed. Something astringent.Anotherdrug? Or a poison this time?
When the person stepped close, crouching down to reach for him, Vorik surged into action.
As he grabbed a wrist, yanking the intruder down to him and knocking the blade aside, the startled gasp of a woman reached his ears. Since more than half the faction people were female, that didn’t stop him from wrapping an arm around the intruder and turning her so that her back was to his chest and he could flatten a hand over her mouth to keep her from crying out.
His hand bumped something on the woman’s face. Only as he decided the curves pressed against him were familiar did he realize it was the frame of a pair of spectacles that had fallen down her nose.
“Syla?” he whispered, loosening his grip over her mouth. He didn’t let her go completely, reminded that they were at cross-purposes. She must have come for the amphora. But why would she have brought his sword and whatever was making the astringent scent? “You smell funny,” he added as she nodded.
“You’re not a delight either,” she whispered back. Most of the camp might be asleep, but the hides wouldn’t do much, if anything, to muffle their voices. “Haven’t you bathed at any point in this journey?”
His arms loosened of their own accord, and he caught himself smiling. “Sorry. The rainforest rivers are full of fanged fish that like the taste of human flesh.”
“I’ve heard.”
“Had I known you would sneak in and fling yourself upon me in the middle of the night, I would have scrubbed my armpits with the ropes my captors used to bind me.”
“I’ll wager those ropes are lying on the ground, far from your wrists and ankles where they belong. Also, I didn’tflingmyself. You yanked me down on top of you.”
“Yes. That was rude of me.”
“Very.”
“You’re still here.” He’d loosened his grip enough that she could have squirmed free. Instead, once he’d removed his hand from her mouth, Syla had relaxed against him. Her weight and warmth made him want to tighten his grip again, this time in a snuggling embrace rather than a restraining one. “Perhaps my aroma isn’t as distasteful as you implied it is.”
“Youaren’t as distasteful as you should be.” She sighed and leaned her head back against his shoulder, her soft hair brushing his cheek.
His nerves lit up, desire flaring to life, and he decided snuggling wasn’texactlywhat he wanted to turn his embrace toward. “I’ve never found you distasteful. You’re quite lovely. Astringent scents notwithstanding.”
