Dave Smeds - The Schemes of Dragons

"But that's not a trap," Elenya interjected. "That's an escape."

"True. That is one of the reasons Struth hopes Gloroc does not suspect his vulnerability. The portal is an escape route. When we surprise him, we must do it so suddenly and completely that he cannot slip out through it. Or if he does, we must be prepared to follow."

"And how are you going to manage that?" Elenya asked skeptically. "How can you even get into the city without being discovered, much less get inside the palace?"

"There is a tunnel under Dragonsdeep, again built by the Dragonslayer. His own escape route, you might say, though he never had cause to use it. It runs from the art gallery adjoining the reception hall to a spot two leagues outside the great dome. We'll come up inside his guards, inside his gates. We've only a few dozen yards of gallery and a long foyer to traverse to get to him."

"It seems too easy," Elenya countered.

"With luck, getting there will be easy. The assassination itself will be the hard part." Toren splayed his fingers, holding the gauntlets up to the sunshine filtering through the forest canopy. "That's when these play their part. If I am indeed able to use them to full potential-and if the Dragonslayer designed them correctly in the first place-then Gloroc will be powerless. There is a deposit of thrijish coral under Dragonsdeep, though not as much as under other Elandri cities. As you know, thrijish disrupts dragonmagic. Gloroc thinks he has insulated himself from it, but with the gauntlets, I can heighten the effect of the coral many times over. I can immobilize him while my companions stab him with knives coated with dragonsbane. The uncertainty is that we really don't know just how powerful Gloroc is, or whether I have the needed resources. If he breaks free, if I lose my concentration, if human guards appear at the wrong moment… I think you see the challenge. In particular, if he slips through the portal, my capture spell will be shattered. I can follow, but I would have to cast it anew on the other side. Without the element of surprise, Gloroc would surely roast me to a cinder before I could succeed."

Elenya pursed her lips and said nothing.

"Those who accompany me may die," Toren said solemnly. "Even if we succeed, Gloroc's guards or sorcerers could find us before we make it back to the tunnel. I have no choice but to go, but I will demand it of no one else. Geim has volunteered, but I will need others who know the ocean."

"I will go," Tregay announced. "I was born in Elandris." Several others echoed his cry.

"I'll make no choices today," Toren said. "I want all of you to think about it. Tomorrow is soon enough, or the day after. Come to me one by one, when the presence of your comrades is not there to goad you to impulsive decisions."

Alemar felt Wynneth's gaze boring into him. He turned and met it. Her expression intensified.

"Oh, no," she murmured. "I know that look."

"I have to go," he said as they lay in their tent that night, naked bodies pressed against each other for warmth.

"Why?" she hissed. "Alemar. The baby."

"I'll be back before the birth."

"Let Elenya go. She wants to see Gloroc dead. She won't believe it unless she's there when it happens."

"Elenya hasn't looked into Omril's mind as I have. I know the layout of the palace, of the city. If something goes wrong, we may need that information."

"But you're needed here," Wynneth insisted. "The Dragon's ships could arrive any day with the reinforcements. The people need their prince."

"They'll accept Elenya. In pitched battle, she's a better leader than I."

She tugged at an errant lock of hair. "I'm sorry. I know you have your duty. I know we have to use every resource. But I just can't be stoic about this."

He stroked her cheek. "You've survived before, when I was gone to the Eastern Deserts."

She sat up abruptly. "Don't try to console me with that! You were supposed to be gone a few months. It turned out to be two and a half years. Besides, we had scarcely become lovers when you left. We had no obligations to each other."

"This obligation can't be transferred."

He hated having to argue his side. Wynneth's every word stung, because he could not deny her right to feel as she did. It irked him to have to put Elandris first. Though he could name every island in the Dragon Sea, and every city beneath it, he had never been to his father's kingdom. Cilendrodel was his home, a frontier province free of the whimsies and affectations of the ancient kingdoms, a place where he could disappear into the groves and sing with the rythni. Except for a few brief months during his apprenticeship with Gast in the Eastern Deserts, he had never been happy anywhere else.

"I don't want to go," he said hoarsely.

She opened her mouth to say something more, but her shoulders drooped in defeat. "Of course not, you wood maggot," she cursed, but the spite was gone from her tone. Suddenly she leaned down and pressed her lips against his. They lingered that way, and when she at last pulled away, a different kind of fire smoldered in her eyes. She cupped her hand around his groin, and squeezed gently until she obtained the response she wanted.

"You're here now," she sighed. She shifted her round belly out of the way with an experienced air and pulled him toward her.

Toren and Deena snuggled together, savoring the afterglow. She wiped a light beading of sweat from her cleavage and wiped it impishly over his nose. He jumped in surprise.

"Thoughts elsewhere already?" she asked.

He ran his fingertips along the side of her body and down her leg from the knob of her pelvis to her knee. "I'm afraid so," he admitted.

Her light-hearted gleam dimmed. She turned his head away from the gauntlets, which lay quiescent beside them. "Are you sure you won't let me come with you?"

He shook his head. "It's as I said before. I would worry about your safety. I need as few distractions as possible."

"And the revolt here could use an archer of my caliber," she said, finishing his speech for him.

"Yes."

She rolled over and shook a twig from her short brown locks. "To be truthful, in some ways it is easy to part ways now. I will lose sleep over your safety, of course, but if fortune favors us, we'll be reunited. Much better for me than to see you depart for the Wood, never to return." Even in the dim illumination, Toren could read her posture. She was not reconciled to either course.

"I haven't decided what I will do once this task is over," he said. He stroked her spine. "If I went back to the land of the Fhali, would you come with me?"

"I've been there," she said in Vanihr.

"Your accent is terrible," he said, realizing as he spoke that she had deliberately exaggerated it.

"That's my point. I don't belong there. But if you asked me to go, I would."

She lifted her head to peer at him. He stared back, lips poised to respond, but he thought of nothing to say. She nestled up against him and they began a long and largely unsuccessful attempt to sleep.

The surface of the sea loomed just above Elenya's head, thick with foam. The breakers boomed, loud despite being muffled by the water. She adjusted her airmaker and glanced back at her team. They rose in perfect formation. The dive had wasted away most of the morning, but it was time well spent. Her students had shown how well they had absorbed their lessons.

Behind her swam Toren, Geim, and the three men chosen to fill out the raiding party. The latter included Tregay and a pair of Elandri refugees named Match and Ebben. All were longtime rebels of unquestioned loyalty. They scarcely needed to hone their underwater skills. The trio knew the sea better than Elenya, and had proved it during the week of training with their suggestions and demonstrations. But they participated in every dive, to adjust to working as a team.