Page 115 of Red Dragon
I must go back and warn them,Igliana said to everyone.And fight beside my parents if there’s a battle.
Wreylith, who was stretching out her wings and talons, about to land in the mouth of the box canyon, let out a fiery breath of irritation.
I must!Igliana said.
Vorik suspected he was only hearing half of their conversation. Still flying, Igliana started to bank around the rock pillar so she could return to the mountains. Fel and Teyla remained on her back.
“Uhm.” Syla raised a finger.
Wreylith roared at Igliana.
At first, the orange dragon looked too determined to pay attention, but she hurried to fly to the canyon floor. She landed, and Fel and Teyla slid off her back. As soon as their feet hit the ground, puffs of pale desert dust wafting up under their boots, the dragon took off again.
“Come back after you warn them, please!” Syla called after Igliana.
Flying with urgency, the orange dragon didn’t respond or even glance back.
Syla looked bleakly around, her gaze settling on Agrevlari. Her lips pinched together in disapproval. Not so much at the green dragon, Vorik was sure, but at the realization that it would be harder for her to seduce him while her bodyguard gathered the components. They wouldn’t be able to escape Vorik with onlyonedragon on their side. One dragon who could carry only two riders. If Igliana didn’t return, one of Syla’s people would have to fly back with Vorik on Agrevlari. Orshewould.
If he hadn’t cared about her feelings, Vorik might have been glad that things were working out in his favor, but he felt more glum than triumphant. Whether he lost or was victorious in their competition for the shielder components, he couldn’t help but feel he would lose in the grand scheme of things.
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Bushy cactuses spreadfrom red-rock wall to red-rock wall of the dusty box canyon, growing without trouble out of the dry earth, even thriving there. A hint of magic permeating the area made Syla wonder if the storm god had found them useful for ingredients in his various creations and cultivated them. Something about the magic was comforting, even relaxing, which surprised her. Shouldn’t a canyon near the storm god’s laboratory reek of malevolence or at least unstable madness?
The air was fragrant with a heady scent wafting from orange flowers that grew from the edges of the cactus pads—the nopales, she corrected, thinking of diagrams she’d seen of varieties of cactus in her herbalism books. She wouldn’t have guessed this was the time of year for anything to flower, but the climate was so different from that of her island home that she couldn’t know if it was atypical or not.
Walking on foot now, with Vorik at her side, her pack on her back, and the amphora in her arms, Syla followed a path through the cactuses toward the pillar-shaped rock formation. Fel and Teyla trailed right behind them. Wreylith had already flown ahead and perched atop it. Agrevlari found a different perch,though he’d flown close to her, eyeing the wide platter at the top with speculation, as if he’d wanted to join her on it. She hadn’t flicked a wingtip in invitation or even looked his way.
“I’m wary about this path.” Fel’s hand never strayed far from his mace.
“There’s magic in it. And in that formation there. It’s practically calling to me.” Teyla waved her hand, showing him her moon-mark. “The whole canyon seems significant. And those flowers smell wonderful. I had no idea cactuses were so fragrant. Archaeology books never mention that.”
“Do they mention cactuses at all?” Syla asked.
“More than you might think. Ancient peoples found a lot of uses for their parts.”
“Modern people do too. I have salves that call for the fruits and flowers. Some of the farmers that work for the royal family have greenhouses and grow them, but I haven’t seen this variety before. I’m not familiar with it at all.” Syla would have been tempted to take a sample, maybe some of the flowers to dry, but bristly clumps of sharp thorns protruding from the nopales didn’t invite one to stray from the path.
A screech came from above, a wyvern flying over the valley. It saw the dragons and veered away.
“The best sky watchers you can have.” Vorik smiled and waved toward Wreylith and also Agrevlari, who’d found a perch along the rim of the canyon where he could observe without intruding upon the red dragon’s space.
Surprisingly, she was looking in his direction now. She’d even shifted to gaze at him. Maybe there was something else interesting in that direction.
“Have you had an opportunity to practice your juggling yet?” Vorik gave Syla a sidelong look.
“Between being attacked by gargoyles and soldiers from my own kingdom, my schedule has been oddly busy.”
“When you ride a dragon, there are many hours spent idly on his or her back.”
“Are you suggesting I attempt to learn an entirely-new-to-me hobby involving throwing and catching balls while flying a thousand feet in the air? That sounds like a quick way to lose all the balls someone gave me as a gift.”
“That is true. Starting on the ground is ideal since even the most dexterous and agile of people drop the balls a lot in the beginning. Or any time they’re trying to learn a new trick.”
“The words dexterous and agile do not describe me.”
“Well, the juggling might help with that.” Vorik winked at her.
