Page 130 of Red Dragon
“Oh, the silver are helping.”
“Yes.” Vorik watched the moonlight-colored balls streaking from the platform and the concentration on Syla’s face. One by one, she was blasting them into the orifices in the canyon walls, destroying the storm god’s weapons.
Fel and Teyla, both slumping against a rock wall some yards from the platform, watched it warily as they gripped wounds. The bodyguard didn’t look like he had the energy to lift his mace again. Even Teyla’s face was bruised and bloodied, and she appeared on the verge of collapse.
Vorik noticed the amphora resting on the floor beside the weapons platform, and Syla’s pack with the other components had fallen down beside it. Maybe he could have darted over there to snatch them, but the thought of stealing them from Syla, whether it was his mission or not, turned his stomach. Besides, it might be suicidal to approach that platform while it was shooting out such powerful blasts.
In the sky above, the battle had faltered as the combatants realized that what they’d thought was the desert floor of the canyon was a huge strange laboratory. One with weapons that could kill them.
Most of the dragons soon flew out of sight—if they were wise, they would fly all the way back to the mountains. But Vorik spotted a familiar black dragon, onewithoutred eyes. Ozlemar.
At the same time, Jhiton saw him. Vorik smiled and lifted a hand.
“Sir.” Wise pointed at the weapons platform.
Syla had launched another silver ball out, slamming it into the last of the storm god’s defenses. No more black balls hurled up toward the dragons in the sky. Vorik started to nod in relief but was watching Syla’s face when she noticed Jhiton.
Her eyes tracked him, and an unsettling premonition filled Vorik. She was a healer and had a gentle soul—he believed that—but the gods had given her the opportunity to slay the man who’d ordered the invasion of her kingdom—the assassinations of all of her close family.
Before her eyes hardened with resolve, Vorik was sprinting across the laboratory toward the platform.
Her fingers twitched on the columns, the moon-mark on her hand glowing silver. Terrified that he would be too late, Vorik dropped his sword and summoned all of his strength to leap at her.
An instant before more deadly magical blasts would have shot out, he slammed into Syla. He struck so hard that they tumbled off the platform, hitting the ground on the far side and rolling away. Syla cried out in pain, and Vorik regretted that he’d hurt her, but he couldn’t regret saving his brother.
When they came to a stop, he made sure to come down on top of her, pinning her so she couldn’t return to the platform. She slumped under him, her face bathed in sweat and exhaustion seeping from her. She might have wanted to curse his name for stopping her, but she didn’t have the energy to do more than groan in disappointment.
Overhead, Ozlemar flew over the rim of the canyon and out of view, but not before Jhiton lifted a hand again, acknowledging what Vorik had done.
A snarl came from nearby. “Traitor!”
Fel half-ran and half-limped toward them, his mace raised.
Vorik rolled off Syla and got to his feet. He’d dropped his sword, not wanting to risk striking Syla with it, but he wasn’t afraid to face Fel unarmed.
“I am not that, my friend,” Vorik said.
Fel stopped when he reached Syla’s side and stood protectively over her. He surprised Vorik by not attacking, but they’d fought together numerous times now. It was hard to try to kill a battle brother, even one who remained an enemy.
Teyla didn’t move from the wall but watched, her gaze locked on them. Syla seemed dazed, her unfocused eyes toward the sky, her spectacles askew.
“Get out of here, Captain,” Fel growled.
From his position, Fel couldn’t see behind the platform, but in his peripheral vision, Vorik could. So he saw Wise sneaking toward it to grab the shielder components. Though Vorik hadn’t been willing to take them himself, and he almost moved to stop his lieutenant, he didn’t. In the end, this was their mission.
“If that’s what you wish.” Vorik shifted to keep Fel’s and Teyla’s attention on him.
Behind the platform, Wise gave him a sky-is-clear gesture and slipped away with the shielder components.
A green dragon soared into view overhead. Agrevlari.
“It is.” Fel knelt to touch Syla’s shoulder. Her eyes remained open, but she barely reacted. “We’ll deal with you no more,” Fel added.
Though he wished he were the one who could kneel by Syla’s side and make sure she was all right, Vorik bowed, retrieved his sword, and walked out of the laboratory. It was time to meet Agrevlari and go home.
Vorik was gone. All the stormers and their dragons were. The Freeborn Faction had left as well. Syla hoped Wreylith hadn’t abandoned her. After her encounter with the black dragon—and the storm god’s weapons—she’d left the canyon to recover—or because she’d had enough of dealing with Syla and humans.
She frowned at the thought. If all the dragons had departed, how would she and her allies get home?
