“I believe so, sir.”
As Ahn shifted her fingers to scratch the ferret’s armpit, Zirkander turned his gaze back to Trip. After a brief moment of contemplation, he said, “Very well. Colonel Grady will go with you. From what his commander tells me, he’s a perfectly capable officer, if newer to the dragon-slaying swords.”
“Thank you, sir,” Trip said, though it occurred to him that he might be getting his way because he was letting some of his scylori show today. He didn’t want to manipulate people, and worried he might have inadvertently done so.
No, they will simply sense your power and your right to lead and be heard, Azarwrath informed him, sounding pleased. This is not bad, Telryn. Your blood gives you those rights.
I’d rather earn rights through my deeds than because of my blood.
You will find you’re given more opportunities to earn them as people regard you with the respect you deserve. It is not as if your blood is causing you to trick them. This is who you are.
Trip sensed someone else coming into the citadel, the aura strong even though she was in human form. Shulina Arya.
His heart warmed as Trip sensed Rysha walking at her side. Actually, she walked several paces behind. The dragon seemed to be running. Or was that skipping? Did dragons skip? Trip looked over at Bhrava Saruth.
Bhrava Saruth sat up on his haunches, chittered, then hopped into the air. When he landed, he was in his human form, shaggy blond bangs hanging in his eyes, and his clothing more appropriate for a day at the beach than a military mission. He patted down his loose terry vest, straightened his long beaded necklaces, then licked a finger and slid it over his eyebrows.
“Guess that means the female is here,” Zirkander said.
“Greetings, humans!” Shulina Arya cried in her exuberant voice as she skipped into the room. “Captain Trip,” she blurted, coming over to him. “My rider said you might be able to make me something called roller-skates.”
“Would that facilitate the capture of a pesky silver dragon?” Trip asked.
“No, but they sound like so much fun.”
Rysha walked in, immediately spotting Trip and smiling shyly at him. His body hummed at the memory of their night together. As much as Shulina Arya’s appearance had seemed untimely the night before, it was better that they had ended up back in Rysha’s barracks room rather than rolling around on her parents’ gravel driveway.
“Silver dragon?” Zirkander asked.
“One has been flying over my family’s property and scaring away workers, sir,” Rysha said, coming to attention and saluting him. “But we’ll handle it. Trip is going to build a dragon trap.”
“A trap and roller-skates, Captain?” Zirkander quirked an eyebrow at him. “Shall we set up a metalworking shop in your cockpit?”
“I thought you were going to say in the hangar, sir,” Trip said. “And I started to get excited. The cockpit would be crowded with shop presses and lathes inside.”
“There’s one in the fort I’m sure you could use.”
“Oh?” Trip felt inordinately pleased at the notion of being invited to use the army’s shop. He wagered they had the latest tools, far superior equipment to what his grandfather had in his woodworking area out back. “Thank you, sir.”
“You sound more enthused about that than you would be about a promotion,” Rysha said, stepping close enough to nudge him with her elbow.
“Tools are fun. Promotions mean an increase in responsibilities.”
“And often a desk,” Zirkander muttered. He raised his voice, “Since we’re all here, let’s begin. Assuming Bhrava Saruth is done playing with his eyebrows.”
“Really, mate of my high priestess,” the now-human-dragon said. He’d managed to ooze over to stand close to Shulina Arya, though she hadn’t so much as looked at him. “I merely wish to ensure they appear well-groomed.”
“I don’t think it matters when your hair is covering them.” Zirkander shifted to face all of them. “This is a small team as you can see. Captains Trip and Ahn, and Lieutenant Ravenwood, along with our dragon allies if they’re willing to go.” He extended a hand toward Shulina Arya and Bhrava Saruth. “I’ll inform Colonel Grady that he and his sword will be joining the team. Ideally, you won’t be picking a fight with anyone. Trip, you were the one to suggest this mission, so even though the colonel will be in charge, you’ll be leading. I’m sure you and the dragons are the ones who’ll be able to find him.”
“Him?” Ahn scratched her head.
Trip was getting just enough of Zirkander’s surface thoughts to understand who he was talking about. “Drysaleskar, the elder gold, sir?”
After the battle in Portsnell, Trip had mentioned the idea of making an alliance with the dragon, since all the other dragons had been terrified of him, but from the way Zirkander had neutrally said he’d think about the idea, Trip hadn’t expected to hear about it again.
Zirkander pushed aside folders to reveal a newspaper on his desk.
“The king brought this to me personally last night and said to do something about it.” He held up the paper to show the front page.
Above the columns of text, a dragon had been drawn sinking its talons into a large fishing vessel and thrusting its head into the hold, presumably to devour the crew’s fresh catch.
“Is that supposed to be Drysaleskar?” Shulina Arya asked. “It’s not an accurate rendition.”
“I understand he doesn’t stay around and pose for the cameras. He steals weeks’ worth of fish, then flaps back out to sea. But as Trip noted, his presence may be what drove all those scheming dragons to flee Portsnell.”
“Not all of them,” Shulina Arya said. “My rider and I had already slain the big gold.”
“Of course, excuse me.”
“And naturally, I would have slain those silvers before they could escape,” Bhrava Saruth said, “but I did not wish to do damage to the human structures along the water.”
“We appreciate your thoughtfulness,” Zirkander said.
“One of my worshippers in that town is a fisherwoman.”
“The mission, sir?” Ahn prompted, glancing at the grenades lined up on the desk and then at Targoson, who merely shrugged in response.
“After some discussion with the king, he’s agreed that Trip’s idea has merit, especially since dragons seem to prefer warmer climates. Our Tlongan Steppes in the south aren’t overly populated, so we could turn an area there into a private dragon park and invite this elder gold to live there. With the understanding that he would let other dragons know this is more or less his country, and that he’ll chase off any of his kind that pester it.”
“If he wanted the Steppes, wouldn’t he have already claimed them?” Targoson asked.
“Maybe he hasn’t been down to see the property yet and note all its fine merits.”