Chapter 14 #2
“You look a bit like a friend of mine,” Rylana said before catching herself.
Bringing up that she knew Sylin couldn’t be a good idea.
Of course, every elf in the city already seemed aware of that, so maybe it didn’t matter.
But Layothlee’s friendly mien—and why was that name familiar? —had her less on-guard.
“Oh?”
“She has the same dark-green hair as you without any gold or silver mixed in. I’ve only seen it occasionally among your people.”
“Ah, yes. It’s more common among elves in the south—the dark blue is rare everywhere, and I’ve always found that more striking.
My mother told me it was unseemly to long for that which the gods did not bestow, but…
” Layothlee gazed wistfully toward a male elf twisting and somersaulting through the air after pushing himself from the ground using a staff.
He had short dark-blue hair that was quite vibrant.
“It’s hard to do all that parents advise.” As Rylana wondered why the acrobat had come over, she realized where she’d heard the name. “Oh. You’re Zilek’s, uhm, interest.”
The smile quirking her lips again, Layothlee turned back to her. “You refer to the dragon, Zilek-grozanarav of Clan Killcrusher?”
“Yeah, but that’s a mouthful. I call him Zilek.”
“And he allows that? Dragons can be a touch pretentious.”
“Really? I hadn’t noticed.”
Layothlee laughed.
Rylana was inclined to like her, if only because she wasn’t glowering suspiciously at her. Maybe if her traveling troupe had recently arrived, she didn’t yet know who Rylana was and hadn’t heard about Sylin and her reputation. But what else would have brought Layothlee over to speak?
“If he tries to give you any soup, you might want to avoid it,” Rylana said.
“The taste will be inferior?”
“Oh, it’ll taste magnificent, but there’ll be all kinds of dragon spices swimming in it.”
“Ah.” Her eyes crinkled at the corners. “I’ve heard of their legendary spices and their effects.”
“Zilek thinks you’re…” Rylana noticed that her escort, though they’d moved back a few steps at Layothlee’s approach, was listening raptly.
“He’s apparently a fan of elven ballerinas.
Or do you consider yourself an acrobat?” Since seeing the somersaults, that was what Rylana had been identifying the troupe as, but she didn’t know if that was correct.
“Either could apply. Our performances mingle dancing and aerial maneuvers. I enjoy the athletic requirements and the challenges, even if my mother says it’s demeaning for one of an educated and refined upbringing to fling herself about on a stage.
Never mind that our troupe is one of the most prestigious in the world and draws educated and refined audiences to watch and be entertained. ”
“It’s hard to live up to the expectations of parents.”
“Tremendously so, yes.” Since Layothlee had mentioned her mother twice, she probably felt that as keenly as Rylana did.
Rylana was on the verge of feeling a kinship with her when Layothlee asked, “Might I speak with you in private? About your comrade?” She raised her eyebrows and extended her hand away from the escort.
Rylana’s defenses went up. Right away, she knew Layothlee meant Sylin, not Jildarin.
Was it possible the elves had sent someone friendly to interrogate Rylana not with physical—or mental and magical—force but by saying the right things to prompt her to lower her guard? Despite being a visitor, Layothlee might know exactly who Rylana was—and who she traveled with.
“All right, but I don’t know where my comrade is right now.”
“That’s fine. I’m just curious about her.”
“Curious isn’t the word others of your kind have used.”
“Probably not, but they’re stuffier than I am.” Layothlee winked and again gestured, walking off the path and inviting Rylana to follow.
Rylana decided Layothlee was probably on the younger side, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t be dangerous.
Regardless, Rylana walked with her. Jildarin was still speaking with Lady Hythia, and it wasn’t as if the escort would let Rylana wander off to explore on her own, so there wasn’t much else she could do.
“How long have you known… She goes by Sylin, right?” Layothlee asked without hesitation once they were out of earshot.
“You were sent to interrogate me,” Rylana said.
Layothlee blinked in surprise. Apparent surprise. It had to be an act.
“Nobody sent me. Well, my mother did suggest that as long as I’m up here, twirling about, I should keep my eyes and ears open, but I know she wasn’t referring to you. She wouldn’t even know you.”
“I trust I’m only of interest to the elves because of my association with Sylin.”
“That is true, although… You said your surname is Avandar? Was that your family’s castle that was glowing the other night?”
“Yes, but not because of anything my family did. An intruder got in, tipped over some troll-god idols, and possibly did something else of significance. He keeps disappearing before I can get answers out of him about that. But that night is when the curse started, I think. I don’t suppose you know anything about the history of the new god and the establishment of Tranquility?
” Rylana didn’t expect that, but if she could ask questions of her own and derail Layothlee from inquiring about Sylin…
“I… know what the height from the ground needs to be to complete three rotations in the air and land on your feet.”
That wouldn’t be helpful in alleviating a curse, but Rylana caught herself asking, “Mathematically or intuitively?”
Layothlee shrugged. “Both.”
Rylana supposed it wouldn’t be logical to invite the elf who was covertly questioning her to the coffee shop to chat about life experiences employing math.
“Elder Valesena might know more about the establishment of Tranquility than the history books tell us,” Layothlee said.
“I believe her mother was traveling in the north at that time and lived in the area with a dwarf lover from the Skyfang Mountains.” She waved toward the snowy peaks on the horizon.
“Valesena enjoys telling stories about her family history and might not mind sharing them with an outsider. She speaks seven languages, including the challenging orc tongue, and doesn’t think people are ignorant twits just because they’re not elven.
Of course, if they prove themselves twits through their actions, she has no trouble telling them so. ”
“Does she live in the enclave?” Rylana looked toward Jildarin, wondering if he was getting anywhere with Lady Hythia.
Three more older elves had joined them, another female and two males. Maybe Jildarin had already found a wise elder with a long memory. But they’d all joined in on the pointing and gesturing at Rylana, all while wearing stern expressions. She doubted they were discussing the city’s origins.
“I don’t think we’re getting a pergola made from living trees,” she murmured.
Layothlee was peering toward her rolling, twirling, and somersaulting troupe and pointed to someone observing the practice from beside an ancient oak. “There she is. She travels with us as our advisor and diplomat, and has been all over the world.”
“An acrobatic troupe needs a diplomat?”
“To gain access to perform in places that don’t feel fondly toward elves, oh, yes. We didn’t used to have much trouble traveling all over the world, but that was before the Ore War.”
Rylana herself would feel more fondly toward elves if they would stop pestering her. “Can you introduce me?”
“Sure.”