“Ah, that is an important cargo.”
“I know of several dragons who would have been distressed if the markets in the capital ran out of sugar.” Rysha glanced back at Shulina Arya. “That being a primary ingredient in tarts.”
The captain squinted at her, as if he was trying to figure out if she was joking or not. Then he looked past her, and his eyes grew rounder than silver nucros. He stumbled backward, almost tripping on his own feet.
Shulina Arya’s head appeared over Rysha’s shoulder, as large and intimidating as always. The crew must have found it easier to appreciate her from the other side of the ship. Up close, she was admittedly large.
The group took several more steps back when her mouth parted slightly, enough to reveal her long white fangs. Even Ahn and Grady appeared concerned.
Tarts? Shulina Arya asked. Did someone say there are tarts here?
“Sorry, no,” Rysha said. “Merely one of the ingredients integral in making tarts.”
That is disappointing. I find sweets delightful, especially after a strenuous battle. We did not have sweets in the other world.
“So that’s why dragons came back,” Colonel Grady said.
“I have a sack of jawbreakers in my cabin,” the captain said, transfixed as he continued to stare at Shulina Arya.
Rysha didn’t think the dragon was trying to manipulate the crew in any way, but they did appear influenced by her presence, her strong aura. Rysha tended to forget how powerful and compelling it was since she so often carried Dorfindral and was less affected by it.
Jawbreakers? Shulina Arya asked.
“I’ll get them for you. You can try one.” The captain ran for a hatchway leading below decks as if he worried someone would flog him if he didn’t move quickly enough.
“Is he coming back?” Grady arched an eyebrow. “Or was that an excuse?”
“I think he’s eager to please Shulina Arya,” Rysha said. “She was paramount in saving the ship.”
“You did well, too, Lieutenant.” Grady nodded at her. “I’m fortunate to be surrounded by competent officers, especially considering how useless I felt until the very end.” Grady patted his sword scabbard.
Ahn winced. Rysha didn’t think the words had been meant as a slight against her or her piloting skills, but Ahn said, “I’ll have to practice to get better at bringing the flier close enough for someone with a chapaharii sword to attack. I’ve been in the position you were in, sir, and I know it’s frustrating not to be able to reach the target. In the battle with Morishtomaric a few years ago, I had to tie a rope to my ankle so I could run out on the wings.”
Grady’s mouth dangled open at this image. Rysha expected him to say that was ludicrous and that whoever had been in charge of that mission should have been punished for allowing Ahn to take such dangerous measures.
Instead, he called out, “Does anybody have any rope they can spare?”
Most of the crew were gazing at Shulina Arya with enraptured expressions and didn’t seem to hear him.
“I’ll go look for myself,” Grady said. “And help with repairs. Or will Captain Trip be able to use his magic to do everything?” He looked dubiously toward the fliers.
Trip remained in his cockpit, slumped forward with his forehead resting on the dashboard. He looked so out of it that Rysha worried he’d been injured. If he had been, he hadn’t said anything.
She took a step in that direction, intending to check on him, but paused when the captain jogged back out on deck, holding what looked like a sack of marbles. At first, it seemed he would keep going and thrust the bag out to offer to Shulina Arya, but her jaws parted in interest, and the motion happened to reveal even more of her fangs. The captain stuttered to a halt.
“I’ll give them to her.” Rysha walked toward him. “Are you offering the whole bag or just one?”
“She would eat the whole bag?”
“You should see what she does to a tray of tarts.”
The captain looked inside and plucked out the largest jawbreaker Rysha had ever seen, its spherical surface covered in blue, yellow, and green swirls. Though she doubted the captain was lying about the contents of his stash, Rysha sniffed it to make sure it was indeed food. The ultra-sweet scent didn’t appeal to her, but she also hadn’t spent all day flapping her wings and carrying a rider.
She walked the jawbreaker to Shulina Arya as the crew watched.
“You suck on it,” Rysha told the dragon. “They’re too hard to chew. Well, they are for humans. I don’t imagine anything could break a dragon’s jaw.”
Suck? Shulina Arya sounded puzzled. Maybe dragon anatomy didn’t allow for sucking.
“You’ll see.” Rysha held the treat out in offering.
A giant pink tongue lolled out, coming to rest on the deck. As large as the jawbreaker was, it appeared small in comparison. Rysha rested it in the center of the dragon’s tongue and stepped back.
Shulina Arya lifted her head, drawing her tongue in. It tastes good. Not as good as tarts, but tangy.
She shifted her jaw around, opening and closing it without actually crunching down. Maybe she was trying to suck. The jawbreaker slid sideways and fell out between two large teeth. It clattered on the deck and rolled away. The tongue shot out, startling the crew as it landed on the jawbreaker and flattened, keeping it from escaping. Next, the tongue tilted and flexed as Shulina Arya tried to pick up her lost prize.
Rysha gripped her chin, debating if her duty as a rider extended to picking up saliva-covered candy to deposit—re-deposit—in a dragon’s mouth.
Shulina Arya gave up on recapturing it with her tongue and instead floated the candy back into her mouth with her magic. This time, she crunched down on it. It sounded like bone breaking. Apparently, the treat satisfied her, because she turned her head toward the captain and his bag, her expression most expectant.
Rysha patted her on the neck and walked toward Trip. She trusted Shulina Arya could handle the rest of the bag on her own if the captain was willing to share it.
Trip’s forehead still rested on the dashboard, and his eyes were closed. Rysha didn’t want to disturb him while he concentrated on his magic, so she climbed into the empty seat behind him.
I am healing his injury, Azarwrath informed her.
She frowned, almost reaching forward to touch Trip. He had been injured.
Will he be all right?
Something floated back to her, then clanked onto the floor of her seat well. A bloody bullet. She grimaced. That was even worse than a dragon-beslimed jawbreaker.
Yes, Azarwrath said.
That’s good. Can I help with anything? Rysha couldn’t imagine what, but she felt like she should be doing more than sitting down. The captain was shooing his crew back to work cleaning and repairing the ship. It was a mess, with broken boards and soot everywhere.