I believe Telryn would find it extremely helpful if you rested your hand on his shoulder in a loving and encouraging manner.
Rysha snorted, amused that Trip had his sword, knowingly or not, lobbying for him to get feminine attention. She leaned forward, careful not to touch the bloody bullet with her boot, and laid her hand on his shoulder. She also rested her head against his upper back, though she lifted it when something tarp-like floated by.
Something for repairing the envelope? She glanced up as it sailed past and laid itself against the framework for the balloon in a spot where a giant charred hole had burned. It acted like a patch, and as she watched, the edges seemed to glue themselves to the existing fabric. Or melt to them, maybe. The material appeared coarse and strange, not like the typical patch fabric that would have been stored below.
That’s because they had very little patch fabric down there, Trip spoke into her mind. I’m making my own.
Out of what?
Remember what I thought was lemongrass?
I remember that you only vaguely know what lemongrass is.
True. The long sticks are sugarcane. I’m pulping some of them and creating a fabric that should work for the short term.
Better not let Shulina Arya know you’re destroying future tart sugar.
Actually, I’m extracting the juice before using the fibrous pulp. I had a discussion with the first mate—once he got over the fear of me speaking to him in his mind—about how not to ruin his cargo. I would have had the discussion with the captain, but he was distracted by your dragon.
Shulina Arya is a distracting being.
Yes. I’m a little disappointed that you didn’t bring me a jawbreaker.
Sorry. Rysha peered over the side of the flier, wondering if any were left.
Shulina Arya was pushing the empty bag around on the deck with her tongue. Trying to fit it inside to lick any remaining sugar?
“Trip, I’m growing more and more convinced that we could turn all dragons into our allies if we could just get them to sample our candies and baked goods.”
He chuckled. Maybe so, but what would happen if we ran out and—
He sat up, frowning out toward the ocean.
“What is it?” Rysha asked.
“I sense another dragon.”
As do I, Storyteller, Shulina Arya said. I was distracted, or I would have noticed him earlier.
Distracted? Is that what you’re calling it? Though she joked, Rysha worried they were about to have to go into battle again.
“I believe it’s the elder dragon we’re looking for,” Trip said.
Rysha looked at the empty jawbreaker bag. “Maybe we should have saved a few of those.”
Weariness weighed down Trip’s limbs as he piloted his flier to the south, in the direction he sensed the elder dragon. Once again, Ahn and Grady flew beside him. Shulina Arya and Bhrava Saruth were sometimes ahead, sometimes behind, and the bronze dragon, Telmandaroo, trailed far behind. Trip wouldn’t be surprised if he disappeared and flew back to his islands. He ought to be grateful, since Trip’s team had extracted him from a servile position, but Trip didn’t expect that from any dragons.
I don’t think I’m up for another fight, Azarwrath, Trip said silently, saving the words for the soulblade rather than the communication crystal. He didn’t want his comrades to worry that he wouldn’t be reliable.
He was sure he could summon some energy if they ended up battling the elder dragon, but repairing the airship had taken as much out of him as the battle. More. He never would have guessed how painstaking it was to turn sugarcane into thread and then weave the thread into fabric. The fact that he’d had to make so much of it hadn’t helped. The next time he bought clothing from someone, especially if that someone had been the one to make it, he would leave a large tip.
“How far away is the dragon now, Trip?” Ahn asked.
“Still about twenty miles.”
“He’s not flying toward us, I gather.”
“No. He’s heading south and we’re trying to catch him. Fortunately, he’s set a languid pace.”
“I don’t suppose you can talk to him and invite him to head this way?”
“Are you in a hurry to have tea with him?” Trip had no idea how this meeting would go, and he believed a battle was as likely as a successful negotiation.
“I’m in a hurry to have these fish out of my storage hold. The sun beating on the hull isn’t helping with the aroma.”
“At least they didn’t fall out during the battle.” Trip had forgotten all about their bribes. He suspected the baked goods in his storage hold had been smashed from side to side and battered beyond recognition when he’d piloted the flier in loops and barrel rolls.
“Yes, that would have been unfortunate.”
“Captain Ahn, I suspect you of having more of a sense of humor than your reputation suggests.”
“Then you won’t mind if I laugh when you find out Colonel Grady stuck a couple of our fish in your storage hold?”
“Uh.” That wasn’t true, was it?
Trip sniffed to either side of his seat. He poked his senses into the storage hold and did detect a couple of overly ripe fish lying inside it. He suspected the smell would grow noticeable before long.
Snickers came over the crystal. From Colonel Grady?
“Sir, you’re not what I expected from an elite troops veteran.”
“Just be happy I’m more fun than Colonel Therrik.”
“A brick wall is more fun than Colonel Therrik,” Ahn said.
“And less likely to fall mercilessly on you,” Grady said.
Drysaleskar has contacted me, Shulina Arya told them. He wishes to know why we’re stalking him.
Why did he contact you before me? Bhrava Saruth wondered. I am the elder dragon in our group and clearly the leader.
Shulina Arya is much prettier than you, Telmandaroo replied. I would have contacted her first too.
Prettier? Bhrava Saruth said. That is not what my human worshippers say. They make statues of me. One even baked a cake in my likeness.
I have informed him that Captain Trip has baked goods for him and wishes to make an offer, Shulina Arya said, ignoring the males.
Trip was beginning to think she was the most mature Iskandian dragon ally they had, propensities for scooters and roller-skates notwithstanding.
“Thank you,” Trip said, speaking out loud so everyone would be apprised. It sounded like the dragons were sharing their telepathic words with everyone, but he wasn’t certain Ahn and Grady would appreciate having him speak into their minds.
What do you want, human? a deep sonorous voice boomed into Trip’s mind.
He took a deep breath. This was it. His idea, his mission.
Drysaleskar, we have heard of your greatness, and we of the Iskandian military, officers sent by King Angulus himself, have come to offer you a place in our homeland.
What do I care of human kings and human offers? If I want a place in your homeland, I shall take it.