Are you sure they weren’t afraid of Shulina Arya’s approach?
They all grew noticeably agitated at the elder’s arrival. The bronze broke a hole in a wall, shape-shifted, and flew out, abandoning her plans. You are the one who can more easily read dragons’ thoughts, but I believe she would have attempted to use the hostages to negotiate with us.
Hm. Trip gazed thoughtfully out to sea.
“Trip?” Rysha dismounted and ran over to him. “Are you all right?”
“Yes. Are you?” He lifted an arm and looked her up and down. He needed to go heal the others, but he would gladly take a moment to help her if she needed it. Or simply to hug her.
“Yes.” She wrapped her arms around him. “We think they were trying to get the swords.”
“Or at least ensure we couldn’t get to them anymore, yes.”
“I think they’ll try again.”
He sighed and rested his cheek against her hair. “That does seem likely.” He gazed off toward the horizon again. What had that elder dragon’s name been? Drysaleskar?
Trip stretched out his senses and located Zirkander and the others. They had given up on chasing the silvers and were heading back to the city.
Sir? Trip telepathically contacted Zirkander. I have an idea.
8
Three mornings after the battle, Rysha waited outside the army’s stables for Trip. While the higher-ups debated what to do with the dragon problem, lowly lieutenants and captains had a day off. Trip had invited her to come out to see his little siblings with him, and she was glad to do so, though she wouldn’t have minded spending the day in her barracks room with him. They had finally been able to enjoy an uninterrupted night together and had found that her bed, though not spacious, was indeed more comfortable than a cave floor. Albeit somewhat noisier than a cave floor, with the old wood creaking and groaning under the admittedly robust use.
Rysha grinned, remembering Trip pausing to peer at the frame underneath the mattress and make suggestions regarding the support brackets and a cracked board. Naturally, she had tugged him back into her arms and informed him that repairs could wait. It hadn’t been hard to divert his attention back to her, but she had woken at dawn to find him using his magic to improve the bed. He hadn’t yet added cup holders, but it was just a matter of time.
“Good morning,” Trip said, strolling out of the stable leading a mare. He must have caught her smiling—or grinning in remembrance—for he offered a return smile.
“Good morning.”
“Shall I saddle you a mount or do you want to ride together? It’s not far to Sardelle and General Zirkander’s house, so I’m sure the mare could carry two.” He wiggled his fingers toward her waist. “Holding would be involved.”
“Sedate holding or vigorous holding?”
“Well, the mare might object to the latter.”
“You think so? She seems placid.”
Greetings, Storyteller! Shulina Arya announced into Rysha’s mind from wherever she was this morning. You’re not going to ride somewhere on that inferior beast, are you?
We’re going out to visit Sardelle and the babies. Do you wish to come?
Naturally. It is most enjoyable for me to spend time among magical beings. Also, I have not had any tarts in almost three days.
That is an eternity.
It is. I was especially depleted after the battle and would have relished sweets. There should have been tarts waiting for us when we returned.
I’ll suggest it to my superior officers.
I’ve already informed your king of this necessity.
Rysha grimaced, hoping the dragon hadn’t been wheeling around the castle on a scooter as she’d made the request.
Trip, gazing skyward, didn’t seem to notice Rysha’s long silence.
“Your dragon is coming,” he informed her, though Shulina Arya wasn’t visible in the sky yet.
“I know. We’re chatting. She thinks it would be beneath me to ride a horse.”
Trip’s eyebrows drifted toward his hairline. “I knew when I started dating a noblewoman with her own castle that she would be accustomed to the finer things in life, but I didn’t know a horse wouldn’t qualify. Especially elite army horses from quality lines.”
“It’s a manor, not a castle,” Rysha said, smiling at the old joke, though it prompted her to remember her mother’s visit.
When she’d gone out to dinner with her and Aunt Tadelay, she hadn’t been able to extract any more information from them about the troubles at home. And they’d said no more about that hint that her father might be considering selling the family land. Rysha found that inconceivable, but the mere suggestion made her want to go home to dig further. Perhaps, if Shulina Arya was willing to fly her around today, she could make it down there later and talk to everyone at dinner. Of course, she might be met with silence on the matter of her concerns, and she couldn’t imagine asking Shulina Arya to telepathically poke into her parents’ thoughts. Someone subtler would be ideal for that. Someone she needed to officially introduce to her parents anyway, even if that would be more awkward after the barracks room incident. Maybe they wouldn’t recognize him in clothes.
“Do you want to go to dinner with me tonight?” Rysha asked.
Trip appeared puzzled at the topic change, but promptly said, “Yes.”
“At my family’s home?”
“Er.”
“You’re not going to change your answer, are you?”
“No. I just… Are you sure it’s allowed? That I’ll be invited? After…”
“It’s my home. I can bring anyone to dinner that I wish.” Rysha was on the verge of adding that she could use his help in sussing out information, but the mare squealed, her brown eyes growing large.
She reared up on her hind legs, almost pulling the reins from Trip’s hands.
Rysha scurried out of the way. Trip made soothing sounds and tried to catch the mare’s gaze.
Suspecting what was coming, Rysha didn’t think he would be successful in calming her. More alarmed whinnies came from the stables, and a shadow blotted out the sun.
Surprisingly, as Trip gazed into the mare’s eyes, she settled down. Her nostrils continued to flare—she surely knew a great predator was drawing close—but she didn’t rear up or try to jerk away again.
“Am I correct in assuming Shulina Arya has offered to fly you to Sardelle’s house?” Trip asked.
“I believe that was implied.”
“If she’s willing to take me, too, I’ll put the mare away.”
“Yes, I think the mare would like that.”
As Trip led the horse into the stables, Shulina Arya landed in the yard in her full golden majesty with her wings spread wide. The alarmed whinnying—or was that screeching?—from inside escalated. Rysha winced, imagining Trip being struck in the head by hooves as horses reared in their stalls. But the whinnies grew quieter, and much of the noise subsided.
“Are you doing that?” Rysha asked Shulina Arya.