Chapter 10 #2
“Goodie,” Rylana answered aloud. “I love meeting and chatting with new dragons about him.”
Sylin, who presumably hadn’t heard the telepathic summons, gave her a sidelong look. “That’s not a healthy hobby. You should stick to archery and math.”
“I’ll keep your advice in mind.”
Telling herself it wasn’t magical power that compelled her off the ferry, Rylana strode onto the dock.
She wanted to continue past the waiting dragon and head to her father’s castle, but she didn’t want to bring trouble to his doorstep.
Besides, her feet shifted route, seemingly of their own accord, and she found herself face to face with the blonde.
I am Killaynia.
A dragon with the word kill in her name. That boded well.
“Rylana,” she said.
“Rylana,” the dragon said slowly and aloud.
Was she trying to imprint the name in her memory? Or maybe she didn’t shape-shift often and wasn’t that used to employing vocal cords and lips for communicating. She hadn’t spoken aloud in the diner, Rylana recalled.
“During the war, it was Sergeant Falcon,” Killaynia added, not speaking slowly now.
“Yup. I’m touched you remember.” Rylana doubted Jildarin had been the one to bring it up, but who knew what they’d spoken of that morning.
“I told our mother that Jildarin fought nobly and daringly while leading well for many years during the war,” Killaynia said, “and deserved a respite and to be left alone to pursue whatever hobbies he wished for a time. I will admit, however, that I did not expect he would take up mating with humans, especially humans who battled and slew our kind.”
“Our mother?” Rylana asked. “Are you Jildarin’s sister?”
“I was less surprised when Zilek adopted that pastime. After all, he appointed himself a spy and went behind enemy lines numerous times to gather intelligence by seducing female dwarf, orc, and human officers. Nobody was that impressed by the pittances of information he brought back.”
A soft snort came from the side. Sylin leaned against a piling several feet away, sipping her coffee and gazing out toward the lake, but she was listening.
“This matter does not concern you, elf,” Killaynia said.
“She’s dating Zilek,” Rylana said. “She needs to know all about his proclivities.”
Sylin shot her a dark look.
Rylana smiled at her.
“Dating,” Killaynia mouthed, as if the word weren’t familiar.
“As in love with his own tongue as he is,” Sylin murmured into her flask, “it’s a wonder Zilek managed to gather any intelligence at all.”
“Jildarin hasn’t spoken much about having sisters.” Rylana watched Killaynia’s face, trying to tell if anything about the dragon suggested she was indeed related to Jildarin.
This could be a ruse. Killaynia might be another fertile female wanting him to mate with her. Maybe she was pretending to be a reasonable relative so she could lure Rylana away from the protection of the nearby pillar to slay her.
“Most of the females that were born in his clutch are obstreperous and bossy,” Killaynia said.
“It’s somewhat amazing that he’s so equable and unflappable.
That combined with his fighting prowess is why so many more combative and hotheaded dragons accepted his leadership during the war.
The independent and often aggressive nature of our kind doesn’t make us that easy to lead. ”
“Imagine,” Rylana murmured.
“I am an older sister, however, not a clutch mate. A half sister, technically, though our kind don’t differentiate. Females usually choose different mates for different broods. We share the same mother. And, though we had different sires, we have in common that they’ve both passed.”
“Huh. What do you want from me? And, uhm, what did you come to talk to Jildarin about this morning?”
“He hasn’t told you?” Did Killaynia sound… bemused? “He spoke highly of his business partner and bookkeeper. I gathered you are a confidante for him.”
“It’s been a busy day, and he had to start prepping for the lunch service as soon as he got back.
He does talk to me.” Maybe Rylana shouldn’t have admitted closeness to Jildarin, but the sister hadn’t threatened her life.
“Cooking is his priority, however. Even when we’re talking about other things, his mind drifts often to topics related to his passion. Like pickling porcinis.”
“I’m aware that he learned to love food, and preparing it in ways atypical for a dragon, from the elf warrior—and chef—whom he often flew into battle with during the war.”
Rylana nodded. “Jildarin told me about him. I gather they were close.”
Killaynia gazed thoughtfully at her. “He speaks of the passing of his elven comrade to few. Perhaps you are a confidante.”
“I think so.”
“Mother thinks you’re using potions to seduce Jildarin and are taking revenge upon our kind by keeping him from mating with fertile females who would then produce superior offspring. She’s worried you’ll find a way to kill him in the end.”
“That’s an interesting hypothesis.” Rylana was aware of other people standing on the dock, queued up to take the ferry to the city, and kept her voice down.
Killaynia surprised her by chuckling. “As I told her. I’m not sure she really believes that. Aunt Lysilria particularly loathes you and has been telling our mother stories. She’s mostly frustrated that he’s wasting his time with you and not doing what he’s told.”
“I understand it’s tedious to parents when their children aren’t obedient, but isn’t Jildarin of the age when it’s expected to be independent?”
“You’re never supposed to be independent of she who hatched you. It’s a dragon rule.”
There was some amusement in Killaynia’s eyes, but Rylana couldn’t tell if she was joking or stating a truth. Did dragons even know how to joke? Jildarin had tried it a few times but hadn’t quite gotten the knack, at least when it came to human humor.
“I came of my own accord to see if a solution could be achieved,” Killaynia said. “One different from what our aunt has ordered be done.”
“Killing me?” Rylana thought of the warning that Zilek had given Sylin.
“Yes, that’s what she wants. I came to see how strong Jildarin’s emotions regarding you are.
After speaking with him this morning, and hearing about the many ways you’ve apparently stood by his side and helped him with his business—that latter being particularly important—I believe he has genuine feelings for you.
Feelings that couldn’t be inspired by a potion. ”
“I think he does too.”
“It could create a deep rift between Jildarin and our aunt—if not between Jildarin and Mother and the entire clan—if one of his eager female pursuers killed you. Originally, I suggested we find him a male replacement bookkeeper before slaying you, but it sounds like you may do more than his calculations.” Killaynia looked her up and down and shook her head, as if having a hard time imagining there being anything special about Rylana.
“I sell his surplus ovens too,” she said, though she’d gotten rid of the last of those weeks earlier.
“I… do not know what that refers to. Sex?”