Page 69 of Red Dragon
Riders are, of course, still puny humans, but those who’ve convinced dragons to lend them power are less puny than most.
“Er, yes.” Syla imagined telling Vorik that Wreylith had described him asless puny than most.
To have won such a mate for yourself speaks to your prowess as a female,Wreylith added.Whether you’d ever be worthy enough for a dragon to desire tobondwith you, I do not know, but I believe you are correct. As you said, you have potential.
“Because Vorik, uhm, satisfied me.”
From his knees!
Syla bit her lip, barely keeping from saying that it hadn’t signified anything like Wreylith seemed to believe, and that she would have happily knelt before Vorik to satisfyhimin a similar manner. Maybe one day, she would correct Wreylith, but for now… she needed a ride. With the stormers threatening Harvest Island, and continuing to plot against the Kingdom as a whole, herpeopleneeded her to have a ride.
Perhaps one day,Wreylith added, not commenting on her thoughts,you will be like Queen Erasbella.
“She sounded like a capable ruler.” Syla looked forward to reading about whatever secret side of her great-great grandmother was in the book she’d found. “I would be proud to be like her.”
Only belatedly did Syla think to wonder if the dragon was implying her great-great grandmother had led a… lurid life. The other books hadn’t mentioned sexual escapades, so that would indeed be asecret side.
Yes. Now climb up here and get onto my back. Not my tail. Igliana has arrived.
Syla grimaced, knowing that she would not only have a hard time pulling herself onto Wreylith’s back but that even clambering onto the roof of the wheelhouse—what remained ofthe roof—would challenge her athleticism. Oh, to have even a tenth of the ability that Vorik possessed.
Curious about who Igliana was, Syla affixed her pack over her shoulders and walked outside. Some of the crew had started on repairs that could be done while at sea, but many continued staring at Wreylith and also at a smaller dragon that had arrived. A vibrant orange dragon, it—she, Syla reminded herself—perched on one of the harpoon launchers, balancing easily considering how small it was compared to a dragon. The newcomer might not be as large as Wreylith, but she was still capable of carrying two riders.
And, Syla thought, her earlier concerns returning, capable of flying back to the stormers and reporting the group’s activities.
Greetings, humans!The orange dragon sprang into the air, flew vertically dozens of yards, then turned and tucked her wings in close to dive.
She plummeted into the sea ten feet to the port side of the whaling ship. Scant seconds later, she came up on the starboard side, then arched over the deck like a leaping dolphin. Droplets of water spattered down as she barrel-rolled through the air before finishing with an acrobatic maneuver that Syla, after a moment’s consideration, labeled as a pirouette.
The captain’s jaw dropped.Mostof the crewmen’s jaws dropped.
Wreylith sighed into Syla’s mind.There were few options available.
“Is she… young?” Syla guessed.
Very young.
Once again, the dragon—Igliana—alighted on the harpoon launcher.Climb aboard, humans who will ride me. I will take you aloft for a glorious flight.
Teyla stood near the railing of the ship, and her eyes brightened, then turned hopefully toward Syla. Did shewanttoride with Igliana? Hadn’t her sword fight taught her that she wasn’t quite as prepared for the world as she’d imagined? And, surely, no Kingdom woman was prepared fordragons.
Fel, still standing by the door to the wheelhouse, hadn’t missed any of this. Older and wiser than Teyla, he gave Syla a baleful look. No doubt, he already anticipated that he would have to ride that dragon—and figure out how to stay on her back. What if she barrel-rolled and pirouetted while a thousand feet in the air?
Syla spread her arms apologetically, but that didn’t keep her from saying, “I’ll go with Wreylith, Sergeant. I need you and Teyla to ride that one. Her name is Igliana.”
Fel grumbled under his breath as he retrieved his pack. The newspaper he’d picked up in town was tucked under one of the straps, and he offered it to Syla while looking with dread toward the orange dragon. Meanwhile, Teyla danced across the deck toward Igliana. She might even have pirouetted. If she could stay on, she and that dragon might be perfect for each other.
“I didn’t want to stop to make you read while we had soldiers stalking us,” Fel said, “but you should probably know about that.”
“I like reading, Sergeant. You never have tomakeme do it.” A true statement, but Syla and Teyla had been busy discussing how to find the various shielder components since leaving the harbor, so she hadn’t had time for reading. Now, she grimaced as she accepted the newspaper.
“For that,makingmight have been required.” Fel shouldered his pack, a resolute expression on his face, and strode toward the orange dragon.
The headline on the front read:Invaluable Shielder Scrolls Lost; Harvest Island Lost; Princess Syla to Blame.
“Wonderful.” Syla correctly anticipated her cousin Relvin’s name on the byline, but she was surprised he’d chosen to soblatantly defame her. Shouldn’t one use a fake name when one was secretly angling for the throne? “How did he even find out about the scrolls?” she muttered and started reading.
A shadow fell over her before she’d absorbed more than a paragraph—Wreylith’s head blotting out the sun.
