Page 73 of Red Dragon
Large birds flew up from trees along a white-sand beach. A type of vulture, Syla thought, awed by their size. One standing on its feet before her would have been level with her chest, at least. There didn’t seem to be anysmallcreatures here. With huge, sharp beaks clacking, the birds didn’t look much less dangerous than the cloud strikers.
As the dragons skimmed over the trees, an insect the size of Syla’s fist buzzed past her head, making her flinch. She glimpsed a stinger as long as her pinky finger and was glad it hadn’t struck her. The first-aid kit she’d packed held numerous tinctures and ointments, but she would prefer not to test their efficacy against the insects, snakes, basilisks, and other venomous things known to live in the area.
I’ve sensed the other two dragons a number of times.One of Wreylith’s eyes rotated inland toward some spot between the coast and the distant mountains.And twice seen them miles away.
With far less keen eyes, Syla hadn’t seen them. “I’m surprised we haven’theardthem. Agrevlari, anyway.”
Wreylith growled.
Igliana was close enough to listen in and swished her tail and made a clucking noise. Dragon laughter?
“Didn’t you enjoy his singing?” Syla asked.
I told him that if he made such caterwauling noises in my presence again, I would tie his tongue in a knot so that he wouldn’t be able to breathe fire ever again. Or breathe at all.
“He’s trying hard to earn your regard.”
A male must prove himself worthy to stir the libido of a powerful female dragon. Not by caterwauling.
Syla didn’t point out that alotof people—and other beings—had to prove themselves worthy to Wreylith. “Like in battle? He did nobly leap in and keep that big black dragon from attacking you.”
I could have handled Ozlemar. We’ve fought before and mated long ago, before he grew so sour and grumpy. No female wants a dragon with such a disposition in her nest.
Syla blinked. “You mated with General Jhiton’s dragon?”
Long ago. He was more appealing in his youth.
Syla didn’t know what to say to the new information. She supposed it wouldn’t affect her and her mission. It didn’t sound like Wreylith hadfeelingsfor the dragon, such that she might be tempted to turn Syla over to the stormers if he asked.
Back then, he wasn’t lowering himself to let humans ride him,Wreylith said with her usual disdain for the idea, not acknowledging that she, at that very moment, had a human on her back.
Not wanting to risk irking her and being abandoned on this wild continent, Syla didn’t point that out.
For all of his life, he was a wild dragon, distrusting of humans and far more inclined to destroy their settlements than work with them.
Wreylith didn’t soundapprovingof the idea, not exactly, but Syla got the impression she was more likely to respect a dragon like that than one who allied with humans.
“What made him decide to align with the stormers? General Jhiton specifically? Do you know?” It hadn’t occurred to Syla that Wreylith might be a resource on the stormers, or at least the stormerdragons. How the information might be helpful, she didn’t yet know, but once she completed this quest, she hadlittle doubt that her people would have to battle the stormers to drive them off Harvest Island and reclaim it. Every tidbit of intelligence that she could gather might later be useful.
I do not know. The stormer officer must have proven himself worthy.
Syla snorted. Of course.
Maybe he drew a basilisk fang from Ozlemar’s foot,Wreylith added dryly.
“I know that’s what’s endeared you to me and made you eager to assist me.”
It didn’tunendearme.
“I’ll bet the salve delighted you too.”
It tingled pleasantly while soothing the ache. Of course, dragons are extremely stoic and do notneedsoothing. Especially not by humans. They can endure any pain and grow stronger for it.
“Oh, I assumed so.”
That earned her a baleful eye rotating back in her direction.
“I brought some of that salve along. Just in case we run into basilisks foolish enough to bite dragons.”
