Page 15 of Red Dragon
“It might be better for me to ride Wreylith,” she murmured.
“Is that likely to happen again?”
“Ah, we’ve left the safe topic and turned back to discussing advantages and disadvantages.”
Vorik inclined his head, his mouth quirking with sad acknowledgment. “You could try juggling.”
“Pardon?”
“That wouldn’t help distance vision, but it’s good for the periphery. You can’t focus on all the balls at once, but you canseethem all if you are calm and aware of what’s around you.” He tapped the side of his eye.
“I can barely catch one ball that someone warns me they’re going to throw,” Syla said, an automatic protest, though she appreciated that he’d been willing to veer back to the safe topic.
“All the more reason to learn a skill that improves your ability to throw and catch. Would you be open to learning?”
“Would I have a charming and handsome instructor with gifted hands?”
His eyelids drooped again. “Verygifted hands.”
Syla opened her mouth, but a boom came from the direction of the harbor.
“Was that a cannon?” Syla leaned as close to the window as she could, her spectacles clunking against the glass as she tried to peer in that direction. The courtyard walls were being rebuilt, however, and there were no gaps through which she might see toward the ocean. The harbor was below the bluff on which the castle perched, regardless.
Fel rushed forward, reaching for her as he came shoulder to shoulder with them.
“I’m not planning to jump out the window,” she told him.
“It wouldn’t be the first time you escaped that way.” Fel didn’t grip her arm, but hedidloom close.
“If you’re referring to when Wreylith absconded with me, it was more of a kidnapping than an escape, and it was through the roof, not the window.”
He gave her a dour look.
“Fireworks.” Vorik had leaned close to the window from her other side and pointed at a narrow red blaze that streaked into view against the darkening sky.
“We don’t have any celebrations planned,” Syla said. The solstice festival had taken place well before the invasion, and there was certainly nothing to celebrate now.
“It’s Night of the Hatchling,” Vorik said. “A celebration time for our people.”
“Night of the Hatchling?” Syla eyed him.
What kind of holiday was that?
“Dragon eggs take a long time to mature enough for the babies to come forth. They lay them in the spring, but this is the time of year when they’ll hatch. Since they’ve been bonding with us, we’ve started to celebrate their birth, the potential for future allies to join our people.”
Fel also squinted suspiciously at him. “Are you sayingyourpeople are lighting fireworks off from their ship?”
Several additional booms sounded, strong enough to make the floor thrum underneath them, and two more flares streaked into view over the harbor, one red and one orange. The unsettling colors reminded Syla of dragon fire.
“I wasn’t aware that they planned to do so,” Vorik said, “but it’s possible one of the chiefs ordered it as… Well, I wouldn’t say it’s part of their negotiating strategy, but they may want to signal that they’re not cowed by your forces surrounding their ship.”
“How would they be cowed when yourdragonsare surrounding our island?” Syla shook her head, finding it hard to believe either of those chiefs had thought loosing fireworks in an enemy harbor was a good idea.
Shouts came from men on the courtyard walls, several pointing toward the edge of the bluff. From their elevated positions, they would have a good view and a better idea of what was going on.
More fireworks streaked across the sky, this time from a more distant origination point.
“Those had to have been lit from beyond the barrier and out to sea.” Syla looked at Vorik again.
