Adrina. She glanced over her shoulder at Damin. “You ready?”
“I suppose.”
Dranymire must have heard him. A gust of warm wind rushed over them as the dragon beat its powerful wings and lifted them into the darkness.
CHAPTER 27
Dregian Castle grew out of a promontory that jutted into the ocean like an upright sword buried hilt-down in the white chalk cliffs. It was a tall, narrow structure, more tower than keep, its white stone pitted and yellowed by years of being assaulted by the corrosive sea air. Unlike Krakandar, the main city of Dregian Province was some distance away from the castle, crowded around a small bay eight leagues to the east of the keep.
Dranymire landed near the woods that ringed a vast open field of cleared ground surrounding the fortress, just as dawn was feeling its way over the horizon.
R'shiel climbed down stiffly from the dragon, her thighs aching from the effort of keeping her seat. Damin appeared to have fared no better than she as he stumbled to the ground. The two of them hobbled about for a few moments, trying to work out the knots in their muscles. Dranymire seemed highly amused by their plight.
“As I said, Your Highness, riding a dragon is a skill that takes years to acquire.”
“I didn't fall off. Give me some credit.”
The dragon lowered its head and studied her with his plate-sized eyes. “Yes. You managed that much. Did you want me to wait for you?”
“For me, yes. Damin's probably going to have to return to Greenharbour by more conventional means once we've found Adrina.”
“I shall await your summons, Your Highness.”
Looking rather relieved that he would not have to repeat the journey, Damin caught up with R'shiel as she stumbled down the small slope to the open ground below.
“What are you doing?”
“I'm off to rescue your wife.”
“What are you going to do? March up to the drawbridge and knock?”
“Pretty much.”
“R'shiel!”
She stopped and turned back to him. “What?”
“You can't do that!”
“Why not?” She smiled at his expression. “Stop thinking with your sword, Damin. We can't storm the place, so we have to get them to let us in. Once we're inside, I can deal with any opposition.”
“You're not even armed.”
“There you go, thinking with your sword again.” She resumed walking, pleased to discover the exercise was beginning to loosen the stiffness from her thighs. Damin ran to catch up with her.
“So what
“Two people walking across a field are no threat to the castle. Even if you're recognised, they'll be so surprised you came alone, that they won't do anything straight away. At worst they'll send for Cyrus.”
“And what do you think he's going to do?”
“Nothing. By the time we're inside, it won't make a difference.”
“You're going to use magic then?” he asked, rather sceptically.
“Of course.”
“But you don't know what you're doing. You admitted as much before we left Greenharbour. You might accidentally harm Adrina.”
“I did learn
“Not nearly enough, from what I've seen so far.”
“Trust me.”
“I hate people who say that.”
She grinned at him. “Stop worrying about me and start thinking about how you're going to apologise to Adrina.”
“Apologise? Why should I apologise?”
“Because she deserves one. And besides, an apology is always a good way to make a woman listen to you.”
“And when did you become such an expert on affairs of the heart? You're a child. And a spoiled one, at that.”
“I'm the demon child. I'm omnipotent.”
“I hope you never actually begin to believe that, R'shiel.”
She glanced at him, her grin fading. “So do I.”
The castle was just beginning to waken as they reached it. With an ear-piercing squeal, the gates swung open and they hastily stepped back to let a troop of Raiders thunder past them, heavily armed and armoured. They were too intent on their own business to notice the couple standing in the shadow of the castle wall. Damin watched them leave, his brow furrowed.
“They're getting ready to fight.”
“What did I tell you? Cyrus has probably got his borders lined five deep in Raiders, waiting for you to attack.”
“I hate people who say, 'I told you so', almost as much as people who say 'trust me'.”
She smiled. “Come on. Let's get inside before they close the gates again.”
R'shiel carefully opened herself up to the power as they entered the cool dimness of the short tunnel that led to the iron-studded gates. She had seen Brak attempt this once and hoped she remembered how it was done. She wove the glamour clumsily as they moved forward, but somewhat to her astonishment, the guards on duty paid them no attention as they walked boldly into the small yard that surrounded the tall white tower. Damin glanced at her in surprise when they were not challenged, nodding in understanding when he noticed her black eyes.
“So we're inside,” he whispered. “What now?”
“There's no need for whispering, Damin. They cannot see us or hear us.”
“Are you sure?”
“Almost.”
Unconvinced, Damin glanced up at the tower. “She'll be in there, I suppose.”
“Great deductive reasoning, Lord Wolfblade. Where else would she be?” R'shiel ignored the look he gave her and looked up with a frown. “How much do you want to bet she's right at the top and we're going to have to climb about a million steps to get there?”
They let themselves into the tower through the main hall, which was littered with the remnants of the previous evening's festivities. The slaves were starting to stir from their places near the cooking hearths, rubbing bleary eyes as they yawned themselves into wakefulness. A few of the more alert slaves were already up and about, righting overturned stools and clearing away dishes stained with congealed fat and limp vegetable remains.
“Looks like it was quite a party,” R'shiel remarked.
“Cyrus would have feasted his troops before he sent them out.”
She glanced around the hall, at the low, vaulted ceiling and the rough stone floor. “This place is pretty old, isn't it?”
“It's one of the oldest structures in Hythria,” he agreed. “It predates Greenharbour, I think.”
