Page 77 of Ale Storm

“You were concerned about Jildarin’s feelings,” Rylana reasoned, “and tried to offer me a way to stay alive so that he wouldn’t be upset. I don’t think you’ll deliberately kill me.”

“You’re presumptuous.”

“Yes, I am. I’ll get my bow and arrows.”

21

The wind whipped through Rylana’s hair as Killaynia flew over the forest between Tranquility and the foothills of the Icefang Mountains. The golden dragon’s scales were cool underneath Rylana, the sun glinting off her sharp horns, and she radiated aloofness. Killaynia glanced over her shoulder frequently, as if wondering what in both hells she was doing carrying an inferior human on her back, but she didn’t fly upside down or otherwise try to cause Rylana to fall.

Which was good. As soon as they’d left the city, Rylana had pulled her quiver into her lap and her hands were busy untying the tranquility knots binding her arrows. She’d already worked her bow free and nocked it. The bag of supplies she’d hastily packed kept threatening to slump off her shoulders, and the horn swayed on her chest with the movements of the dragon, getting in the way of her work. But Rylana was determined to prepare for trouble. If—when—they ran into it, she would be ready. Somehow, she felt certain they would find it.

But where? Rylana had hoped Killaynia might be able to sense her brother and automatically know where he was, but she’d said they would need to be within five or ten miles for her to detect him.

Under Rylana’s guidance, they flew over and around Toadstool Rock—or Calling Rock, as the dragons had named it. Since Jildarin had met the sisters there before, Rylana thought it a likely spot for a tryst—or a trap.

No dragons have been here, Killaynia said and banked to fly east, toward the Icefang Mountains.

“Do you know where else they might have wanted to meet him? If mating is what the sisters have in mind, are there any places that might get them, er, in the mood?” Of all the things Rylana had never thought she would discuss with a dragon she barely knew…

I will check such places, but dragons prefer southern climes. We have many preferred mating places in the Skyfang Mountains. It is a testament to how much those females want Jildarin that they are willing to come so frequently this far north, hoping for his attention.

“Lucky him.”

Killaynia issued a noise somewhere between a bark and a cat hawking up a hairball. Was that… a laugh? Some males would be most chuffed to be pursued by so many females, but I agree that mating has never been that much of an interest for him.

Rylana didn’t mention that Jildarin was starting to get interested in it when he was in his human form, but when Killaynia slanted another look back at her, Rylana wondered if the dragon was again reading her thoughts. If she was, she didn’t comment on what she found there.

Powerful wings beating, Killaynia headed for the snow-capped mountains. Even with midsummer approaching, the peaks remained smothered, glaciers stark against the dark rocks above the tree line.

I sense dragons. Killaynia adjusted her flight path to head toward a valley between two craggy peaks.

“Jildarin?”

He is there.

“With how many others?” Rylana pulled an arrow free, but what if Jildarin was up there alone with Loxvonla?

If they were mating, not fighting, Rylana shouldn’t intrude. Despite what Killaynia claimed, Rylana wouldn’t feel betrayed if it turned out that Jildarin was with the female dragon. Rylana didn’t want to witness them together, and she might not be able to keep from experiencing envious anguish, but she suspected he would be doing it to protect her, not because he truly wanted Loxvonla. Rylana knew he didn’t like her. Both of those sisters were odious. She wished that if Jildarin did need to be with a female of his own kind that he could find one who made him happy, or who he would at least be content to sire offspring with.

Once more, Killaynia looked back at Rylana. This time, the expression didn’t appear hostile.

“Are you reading my mind?”

When I am in my native form, my magic is powerful, and, like my mother, one of my gifts is telepathy and mind reading.

“I’ll take that for a yes.”

You are at least loyal to my brother.

“I don’t keep the books and shop for ingredients for just anyone.”

Killaynia snorted, wisps of smoke wafting from her nostrils. A loyal servant.

Rylana sighed. Let Killaynia call her what she wished. At least she was flying Rylana into the mountains.

There are many dragons in the valley ahead. I have traveled over it before. There are statues of the dwarven gods and preserved skeletons of dragons, mammoths, and yetis. There are also mithril spears thrusting from great rock cairns. The valley is of historical significance to the dwarves and was also the place of a great battle millennia ago. Only those items preserved by magic remain from that time. We call this the Vale of the Lance.

Rylana didn’t care that much about the history or the valley’s name. “When you say many dragons, are they all female? Can you tell? All except Jildarin?”