Trip had no idea who that was but worried a lieutenant wouldn’t have a lot of experience. Had nobody higher ranking been willing to sign on to defend him? But maybe a younger officer would be more open-minded and less likely to dismiss him as something less than human because of his blood.
“At the king’s request, you’ve been granted surprising latitude…” The major looked around the temple, including to where Bhrava Saruth sat in human form on what could only be considered a throne with a woman in his lap and another kneeling on the dais, his hand on her head.
Trip wondered exactly what kinds of “blessings” the dragon was giving.
“I knew he wasn’t cleaning latrines,” the lieutenant muttered.
Trip had the urge to take them out back and show them what he was working on, but there were a lot of reasons to keep that a secret for now. Further, even though he trusted himself—and Rysha had come over one evening to check his math—he couldn’t be certain the weapons platform would do all that he’d promised until they got it in the air and a dragon attacked.
“So, make sure you’re there on time,” the major finished, pulling his gaze back from Bhrava Saruth.
“Yes, sir,” Trip said, though he wished he could push it back a couple more weeks until he’d finished everything here. Or push it back until half past never.
What did Lockvale stand to gain from this, anyway? Was it all out of spite? Because Trip had embarrassed him in front of his friends? But those same friends were testifying to an attempt at murder, so they were clearly willing to stand with him.
With their news delivered, the major and lieutenant hurried back the way they had come. Hunches to their shoulders and the quickness of their pace suggested they couldn’t wait to leave the temple. Because a dragon god lived there? Or because they suspected it oozed magic?
Trip rubbed the back of his neck, wondering if the average person would ever accept that magic and sorcerers could be useful.
21
The evening before Trip’s inquest, Shulina Arya dropped Rysha off at her family’s manor. Rysha faced the double-doored entrance, squared her shoulders, took a deep breath… and didn’t move.
“Do you want to join us for dinner?” Rysha asked the dragon, looking for a reason to stall.
Also, she wouldn’t mind someone who would support her as she argued with her mother and father. She’d come down to ask one or both of them to travel to the city—she would happily provide winged transportation to get them there quickly—and act as character witnesses for Trip. At the least, it would be nice if they talked about how Lockvale had been pressuring them to sell their property. That ought to make the noble’s presence there the night of the fire appear more suspicious.
The eating would be done with forks and knives and spools? Shulina Arya asked.
Spoons, yes.
I find human eating implements confusing. Why do you simply not use your teeth and tongues?
Some foods are difficult to eat with teeth and tongue alone. Rysha remembered the dragon’s difficulty with the jawbreakers and thought she could understand.
Though sweets are enjoyable, I prefer simple food I can eat with my fangs and talons. Also the pleasure of the hunt. While you dine, I believe I shall seek a sheep.
“All right.” Rysha thought about suggesting that a wild ram would be a better choice than one of her family’s woolly livestock, but after killing that silver dragon, Shulina Arya deserved a sheep if she desired one. “I’ll see you later.”
Let me know when you wish to leave.
“Thank you. I will. And thank you for toting me all over the place. I have to admit it’s very convenient to travel so quickly.”
Indeed so. Human legs are so stubby and slow. Everybody should be a rider, so they can have access to a dragon.
“A shame there are more humans in the world than dragons, as your parents pointed out.”
Shulina Arya flew off, and Rysha had no reason to dawdle further. She opened the door, traveling the hallway and several rooms before finding her mother in the library. She sat at a desk, books stacked to either side of her and one open under her hands. The university term had just ended for the summer. Maybe she intended to catch up on personal reading.
“Rysha,” Mother said, looking up and smiling. “It’s good to see you again so soon.”
“Thanks, Mother, but I came on business.” Rysha walked into the library. “Personal business, admittedly. I was hoping to talk to you and Father.”
Mother’s smile faded. “Is this about that military inquest starting tomorrow. Centered around your… friend?”
Her gaze shifted to a newspaper on one of the stacks of books.
For the last three days, Trip had been on the front page. He wasn’t doing anything except hiding out and working on his project, so she assumed Lord Lockvale had a friend at the press he’d asked to stir things up. So far, the articles had been outcries against the sudden influx of those with dragon blood into the capital and the surrounding countryside. The journalists hadn’t mentioned Trip’s little siblings, but Rysha had read between the lines that Lockvale had heard about and was counting them, as well as supposing that more dragon-blooded children would be born soon. Rules had to be established and precedents established, he argued in one interview, or soon mundane human beings would find themselves enslaved to sorcerers once again.
As if that had ever happened in the first place. Rysha shook her head in disgust.
Her mother lifted her eyebrows, and Rysha remembered the question.
“It is about that,” she admitted. “I’m hoping that either you or Father will come to the capital and testify. You don’t have to say anything about Trip, just that Lord Lockvale has been up to dastardly practices and can’t be trusted.”
A faint clink sounded behind her, Aunt Tadelay standing in the doorway and stirring a mug of tea with a spoon.
“Rysha,” Mother said, “I understand you wanting to defend your friend, but we’ve only met him once, and we don’t truly know anything about him.”
“Other than that he has admirable assets.” Aunt Tadelay smirked and brought her mug to her lips.
Mother blinked. “Tadelay, you’re not referring to that—that night, are you? I thought that mortified you.”
“I was extremely mortified. But neither that nor his strategically placed pillow kept me from noticing assets. And understanding why young Rysha might be smitten with him.”
Rysha’s cheeks warmed at this uncertain defense.
“Smitten,” Mother said. “That’s the word the newspaper used.”
“They’re mentioning me?” Rysha had seen most of the articles but must have missed that one.
“The journalist said it’s likely he’s using his power to influence you so that he can marry you and gain a place for himself in the nobility.”
“Mother, surely you don’t believe such nonsense. Or you, Aunt Tadelay. You know what the silver dragon was up to and how Lockvale was trying to take advantage. He came here openly, trying to buy our land.”
“I’m aware of that,” Mother said, “but we don’t have any proof he was working with that dragon.”
“Trip said he was.”