Chapter 10
The black dragon circled the top of the knoll, baleful amber eyes looking down on the ruins site with disdain.
Vormalt scurried back into the tunnel of the pyramid.
As Rylana searched the sky for Jildarin, thinking he wouldn’t let his aunt come molest her without stepping in, she traded the journal for her bow and eased an arrow out of her quiver.
Wait, was this the aunt? He’d said his mother was in the area as well.
The dragon’s talons flexed as those eyes locked onto Rylana. She eased sideways so she could put her back to one of the slabs and lamented that all the roofs of the buildings had caved in. Not that even the stone pyramid would necessarily save a person from the wrath of a dragon.
I am Jixana-grozanarav of Clan Killcrusher, a telepathic voice boomed into Rylana’s mind.
Nope, that wasn’t the name that Jildarin had given to the aunt. This had to be his mother.
But where was he?
You are an inferior human, not even an elven warrioress with modest magical power.
“That’s correct,” Rylana said.
The dragon glided down to land on the apex of the pyramid. A few old stones disturbed by her talons bounced and slid along the surface to rain down in front of the tunnel opening. Vormalt backed farther inside, disappearing into the shadows and leaving Rylana to face the dragon alone.
“Figures,” she muttered, though it wasn’t as if she could blame him for not wanting the attention of Jildarin's mother. She would blame him for everything else going wrong in the area, but this… This was what she got for applying to be a bookkeeper for a dragon.
The dragon slapped her tail against the side of the pyramid. More pebbles skittered and bounced to the ground.
You are having sexual relations with Jildarin-grozanarav? Was that a question? Or a statement?
“No. No, I’m not. I’m just his bookkeeper.” Rylana thought about explaining that he’d also made her a partner in the business, but she doubted the dragon cared about the diner.
His bookkeeper, she—Jixana—said slowly. Her amber eyes slitted, as if she was suspicious about the term having hidden connotations. Hidden sexual connotations.
“Yes, of his business. He likes to focus on his passion of creating culinary masterpieces. He’s very talented. I run the numbers, keep the records, pay the landlord, and buy ingredients and such. That’s all.”
The sensation of ants crawling around inside her skull swept over Rylana, and she barely resisted the urge to shudder.
As she knew from the war, some old and powerful dragons had the ability to read minds.
She had never experienced it herself—she hadn’t been an important general or unit commander with military intelligence floating around in her brain—but she’d heard about it from Captain Maverick.
She knew some dragons could also inflict mental pain with their power, and braced herself for the feeling to get worse.
Her hands twitched, her instincts suggesting she might have to point the arrow she’d nocked at Jixana, but she didn’t want to threaten Jildarin's mother. Further, if the dragon spewed fire, the bare-branched aspens wouldn’t do anything to block the flames, not like the dense evergreens that she’d darted through to escape being incinerated by that sister.
You consumed our spices? Jixana asked.
“Uhm, yes, once. They’re very nice.” Rylana couldn’t help but think of the delicious soup.
They caused you to desire my son. It was a statement, not a question. To want to seduce him.
“No, no. He’s not interested in recreational sex. He assured me of that.”
Rylana glimpsed movement in the shadows of the tunnel, and her cheeks heated.
Was Vormalt listening? Maybe she could answer silently, and only the dragon would hear?
Though she would prefer not to answer questions on this topic at all.
Where was Jildarin? Had his aunt deliberately drawn him away so that his mother could come over without him noticing?
But you are interested in it, Jixana stated with certainty. I forbid it.
“Okay.”
He must mate with appropriate females from our clan and our ally clans to ensure the procreation of superior young hatchlings that will grow into great warriors.
Our kind must be—we will be—prepared the next time the savage and unpredictable human kingdoms raise allies from the other two-legged species and invade our mountains.
Two tendrils of smoke wafted from her nostrils, and those cold reptilian eyes never wavered.
If Rylana sprang behind the stone slab, it might be enough to protect her from fire. Briefly. But all the dragon would have to do was fly closer to stream a gout of flames behind that meager cover.
Rylana shifted her grip on her bow so that she could wipe palms that had grown moist with sweat, but she didn’t yet try to hide. Why it mattered, she didn’t know, but she didn’t want Jildarin's mother to think she was a coward.
The itching bug-crawling sensation swept through her mind again.
You fought against our kind in the war, Jixana stated.
“Yes.”
You fired one of your puny arrows at my son.
Rylana licked her lips and was tempted to say it had been an accident, but if Jixana could see her thoughts, there was no point in lying. “Yes.”
How foolish of him to bring you into his lair. If you had the opportunity, you would slay him with those arrows.
She would not, a second telepathic voice boomed. Jildarin.
Rylana slumped against the stone slab in relief as he soared into view, silver wings spread wide. He landed on a pile of fallen rubble a few yards to the side of her and faced his mother, not noticeably daunted by her or the fact that she had the high ground.
Rylana’s relief was short-lived because the other black dragon—that had to be his aunt—also flew into view, finding a perch near the pyramid. She faced Rylana, icy yellow eyes scouring her.
She fought with me when other dragons attacked me, Jildarin added.
What other dragons dared attack my son? Jixana asked.
Foxvonla and Loxvonla.
His mother’s gaze shifted from Rylana to Jildarin. My son, those were the females you were supposed to mate with. You weren’t supposed to battle them.
They sought to manipulate me into doing their bidding. Jildarin's tail went out rigid, and he flexed his wings. No respectable male would allow that.
That is true, his aunt, Lysilria, said.
No doubt that is why they desire him even more and are complaining daily to me, Jixana said dryly. They both returned with wounds. Did she sound pleased?
For Jildarin's sake, Rylana hoped his mother was proud of him.
You should slay this puny female human so that she doesn’t attempt again to seduce you, Jixana said.
Seduce him! Lysilria boomed in indignation. She is not even elven. Who would rut with such an inferior female?
Rylana sighed and hoped Vormalt wasn’t getting all this, but she feared the telepathic voices of the dragons carried far and wide. With her luck, Sylin, who was probably back sipping coffee on the rooftop of her favorite shop, was hearing everything too.
I will not slay my bookkeeper, Jildarin stated. She has proven useful.
She tried to kill you! Jixana snarled, her own tail going rigid and her icy gaze returning to Rylana.
Yes, in the war. We killed many of her kind.
And her kind managed to slay a few of our kind.
It is the way of conflict. Jildarin's reasonable comment almost surprised Rylana since he’d been furious with her when she’d first appeared at his diner, but she was glad he was here, standing up for her now.
For some, the war never ends, Jixana said. She will bide her time and slay you if you are not vigilant.
I am always vigilant, Mother. Many of the two-legs seek the end of dragons. I do not lower my neck near to the ground where they can reach it with their blades.
If you slay her, your neck will not be in danger.
There are others in the city who seek the death of dragons far more than she.
Yet, you desire to live there, Jixana said. And, as your brother has informed me, you serve them!
I am teaching them about dragon culture and what wonderful creations we are capable of making. Perhaps they will one day see our kind as wise and worthy, not as simple beasts.
How they see us does not matter, Jixana said.
They are inferior, and their opinions are insignificant, his aunt added.
Because of their opinions, they thought nothing of starting a war with our kind, Jildarin said. Through my work and education of them, the future may be different.
Listen, my son, you have earned a respite after your many years of battle, and I do not care that you pursue this strange… hobby, but I insist that you return home to mate with the fertile females who are worthy of having your hatchlings. There are several that I have deemed suitable.
Rylana blinked. Several? Jixana wanted her son to be like a stud horse, not caring if he felt anything for those dragons or not?
I will not be manipulated by any females, Mother, Jildarin said dryly. Not even you.
This is not about manipulating you to some personal end. This is about what is best for our kind, the continuation of our species.
We were not so decimated by our enemies that the dragon species is in danger of going extinct. Jildarin still sounded dry, as if calling his mother out for being melodramatic.
Rylana approved. Now, if he would ask them to leave the area and stop talking about slaying her…
It is time for you to mature, my son, and do your duty as a mighty dragon of the Killcrusher Clan. His mother didn’t sound amused or impressed by his dryness.
You should be honored that so many females desire you, his aunt put in, that they do not mind your… quirkiness.
Jildarin's tail twitched. More with irritation than quirkiness, Rylana thought. No son liked being lectured by his mother—his mother and his aunt.
“Jildarin is a strong and independent dragon,” she caught herself saying.
“I’m sure he’ll one day desire to lend his efforts to creating fine offspring, but he’s on another quest right now, and it’s a worthy one.
He’s amazingly talented as a chef. Did you know he just won the Golden Whisk?
A very prestigious culinary contest in Tranquility? ”
Jixana looked at her as if she were a dead rodent that one of the log-inspector dogs had brought to its handler instead of a magical treasure.
Jildarin also looked over at her, but he appeared more appreciative of her defense.
At the least, he didn’t look irritated. Dragon faces were hard to read, but his muscles grew less tense.
She addresses superior dragons when not spoken to, Lysilria said. How presumptuous. We would be within our rights to slay her simply for that.
If you do not come home to fulfill your duty, Jixana said to Jildarin, and if I find out your lack of desire to mate with one of your own kind is because you change into a lowly human form to mount their females…
Her scathing gaze raked over Rylana again.
I will not be pleased. The gold hoard will not be the only thing that I deny you access to, and your human bookkeeper will regret the day she met you.
“I regret that I shot the wrong dragon,” Rylana muttered under her breath.
Do not stray far from the protective borders of Tranquility, human, Lysilria said. It is quite dangerous in the forests and mountains, especially for a bumbling two-legs with no claws or fangs or means of defending herself.
Rylana tightened her grip on her bow. If she’d had mithril-headed arrows that could have more easily wounded a dragon, she might have been tempted to demonstrate that she could indeed defend herself.
She was tempted anyway. But, as she’d noted before, if they attacked her—and if she shot one of them, they absolutely would—there were few places on top of the knoll where she could take cover.
Also, she didn’t know if Jildarin would be as quick to defend her against his mother and aunt as he had the overbearing female sisters.
He did, however, growl at them—at his aunt, specifically. You will not threaten my bookkeeper, Lysilria. She has value to me and my goals.
“I care for you too,” Rylana muttered.
Maybe she should have kept her mouth shut. Even though she wouldn’t have guessed the dragons were close enough to hear her, Jixana growled back, and she was looking at Rylana instead of her son. Damn, had she heard that comment?
We will expect you back at the clan caves soon, Jildarin-grozanarav.
Jixana sprang into the air, her wings flapping to take her back to the south.
Do not forget your duty. Should one of the sisters or another fertile female fly all the way north to visit you, I expect you to reward her for her effort—and to reward the clan with hatchlings.
Lysilria shifted her weight on her perch but didn’t fly after Jixana, instead lingering to contemplate Rylana.
She didn’t think the dragon would attack when Jildarin was so close, but it wasn’t as if she knew his family well.
Maybe his aunt would risk his ire—and his fangs—to ensure nothing stood in the way of Jildarin mating with his own kind and producing those hatchlings that Jixana wanted. Maybe the whole clan wanted them.
Jildarin growled at Lysilria and flexed his wings. Her gaze shifted toward him, and she growled back, maw parting to reveal sharp fangs.
“I’ve heard that Zilek is available to mate with female dragons,” Rylana called, not wanting Jildarin to have to fight his aunt because of her—because his relatives believed something was happening that wasn’t. She also didn’t want to be caught in the middle of it.
Zilek-grozanarav, Lysilria said, her icy tone making it clear Rylana should have spoken of him by his full name, is not the one who felled more enemies than any other and that all the females crave to sire their hatchlings.
His genetic material is similar to mine, Jildarin said. We are from the same brood. He should be an acceptable mate. There are many acceptable males in the clan.
You are the one the females desire. Not waiting for a response, Lysilria sprang into the air and flew straight at Jildarin.