“What do you think?” Tamri asked. “Can we try it?”
Dara glanced at Melloch before answering. “I’m glad you’re eager to learn, Tamri, but we made a commitment to Queen Rochelle. We must seal the Lightning and its mistress back in the chasm before they hurt any more Soolen citizens.”
Tamri grimaced, wishing they could talk without Melloch hovering nearby. The Wielder-scholar was loyal to Queen Rochelle. Relations between the Vertigonians and Soole’s monarch had become strained after the death of her son, Prince Chadrech—another reason they’d moved their base of operations out of the capital. To make matters worse, Dara’s husband, King Siv, had departed for Vertigon several weeks ago, unable to leave it unattended any longer. Queen Rochelle suspected Dara and Siv planned to go back on their agreement to contain the Lightning.
Despite the complicated political situation, Tamri couldn’t believe Dara would just give up when the Lightning had so much potential. She took a step forward. “You’re really going to stuff all that power back underground?”
“Yes,” Dara said brusquely. “We’ll do it as soon as Sel and Latch return with the Air Sensors.” After her success using Fire and Watermight together against the Lightning dragon, Dara had theorized that a group of Wielders using a mix of the three magical substances—Fire, Watermight, and Air—could force the Lightning back into its chasm on Thunderbird Island. Lord Latch and Princess Selivia had traveled to the land of Trure to ask the Air Sensors to gather a reservoir of their elusive power for the final assault.
It didn’t leave Tamri with much time. She squeezed rainwater from her clothes, trying to think of some way to change Dara’s mind. The voice in the storm had opened up so many possibilities. “We can’t just ignore this. It’s too good of an opportunity to waste.”
“I understand your frustration,” Dara said. “But I won’t let the Lightning dragon get her claws into you or anyone else.” She sighed. “Maybe I sent you out on patrol too soon.”
“No, it was fine.” Tamri’s knees picked that moment to wobble, and she fought to hide her fatigue. “If she hadn’t recognized me, she might not have spoken at all. Now we know she’s lurking.”
“I suppose we do.” Dara glanced up at the clouds, her hand drifting back to her sword hilt. “But I’ll still have someone else take your next patrol shift.”
“What? But I want—”
“This isn’t negotiable,” Dara said. “You could use the rest, and we need to see if the Thunderbird Queen will try to speak to other Wielders. Didn’t you say we should figure out how she works?”
Tamri’s shoulders slumped. “Yes, Your Majesty.”
“We should stop sending patrols altogether,” Melloch said, holding up the bloodied cloth from his wounds. “We’re provoking the creatures.”
“If the Lightning dragon attacks again, Queen Dara can defeat it,” Tamri said sharply, not feeling particularly sympathetic toward Melloch at the moment. Besides, the wave of pressure when Dara combined Watermight and Fire had been nothing short of magnificent. They didn’t have to be afraid while she was looking out for them.
“We can’t count on that,” Dara said. “I don’t want to use power like that again for a while.”
Tamri frowned. “Why not?”
Dara hesitated, her hand moving briefly to her stomach to fiddle with the buttons on her coat. It was an uncharacteristically nervous gesture. “I might not always have access to the right magical substances. I agree we shouldn’t provoke the dragon, but we can’t afford to stop our patrols. Khrillin could still return, and we can’t let anyone take us by surprise again.” She glanced at the sky again then rolled her shoulders and resumed her usual no-nonsense manner. “Melloch, let’s find you a Watermight healer. Tamri, go get cleaned up. I have some notes for you to read over.”
Tamri didn’t move. “Are you really taking me off patrol duty?”
“I’ll put you back out there soon enough.” Dara gave her an unyielding look. “But I won’t let you get ensnared the way Latch was.”
Tamri sighed. The queen put up with a fair amount of debate, but arguing was pointless once she put her foot down. “I’d better go change out of my wet clothes.”
Tamri edged around Melloch, ignoring his suspicious gaze, and entered the manor through the blue door. She crossed the large, airy dining room they used as their research headquarters, trying not to drip on anything important. Scrolls and notes filled the main table completely, and additional smaller tables had been brought in to hold more. Maps pinned to the walls marked the locations of the thunderbird sightings, with different colored pins depending on whether the thunderbirds had assaulted humans or not. The incident with Melloch was the first such attack since Dara had hurled the Lightning dragon and her thunderbird servants out of Sharoth.
A separate map posted by the door to the inner corridor noted all possible sightings of King Khrillin’s agents. He’d been sending spies to Soolen territory for months if not years, and they were trying to root out as many as possible.
Their own informants in Pendarkan territory reported that the fallout from Khrillin’s disastrous invasion of Soole was keeping him occupied. He’d gathered unprecedented support from the Waterlords and Waterladies of Pendark, who were notorious for infighting and rivalries. They had shared their considerable Watermight reserves to enable the surprise attack, and they weren’t happy at how spectacularly Khrillin’s aggressions had failed. Hopefully that would buy Tamri and the others time to deal with the Lightning before the Waterlord King tried again.
Tamri left the dining room and squelched down the tiled hall leading deeper into the manor. She and Gramma Teall were staying in the west wing, on the other side of the sprawling house. As she neared their room, Tamri’s stomach twisted with the familiar worry that her grandmother wouldn’t recognize her—or that she would be gone. Tamri had slept on a couch in the dining room twice since they arrived in Starry Cove because Gramma Teall called her a stranger and forced her out of their shared bedroom. And the previous week, Gramma Teall had left the manor to go for a swim and couldn’t find her way back.
Tamri worried that moving her grandmother to this cliffside manor had aggravated her memory problems. She couldn’t have left Gramma Teall at the royal palace in Sharoth, though. Queen Rochelle knew how much Tamri had helped the city, but the other Soolens disliked Pendarkans—especially after their Crown Prince had been killed during the Pendarkan invasion. Besides, Tamri had no intention of leaving Gramma Teall behind ever again.
She turned the corner into their corridor, and Gramma Teall’s reedy voice drifted toward her. The knots in Tamri’s stomach loosened. She wouldn’t have to go searching for her this time.
She knocked once on the delicately carved wooden door to their room then pushed it open. “Gramma, it’s Tamri. I’m back from—”
She broke off as Heath Samanar leapt from the chair beside her grandmother. The tall, broad-shouldered dragon rider had a needle and thread in one hand and Tamri’s old brown tunic in the other. His sleeves were rolled back, revealing the thin scar on his forearm.