Chapter 20
Jildarin! Rylana shouted in her mind as she rowed furiously, but humans, unfortunately, had no telepathic abilities. That didn’t keep her from adding, If there’s any chance you’re monitoring the situation and can hear me, I could use some help. Really soon!
The black dragon opened her maw as she descended toward the rowboat. Rylana rowed faster, certain the creature didn’t intend to aim at the water to stir up the bioluminescent organisms next to her.
Ahead, someone in a cloak was running across the boardwalk from the shoreline toward Lucky Island.
“Go back!” Rylana yelled, wondering why anyone would race toward an approaching dragon instead of away. Maybe they hadn’t seen Lysilria?
There wasn’t time to yell anything else. The black dragon swooped in, talons flexing toward Rylana. She lunged off the bench and flattened herself to the bottom of the boat, puddles of water soaking her clothes. The talons snatched at the air where she’d been, missing her by inches.
With momentum carrying her forward, Lysilria didn’t get a second chance to try to grab Rylana, not on that pass.
The boardwalk ahead forced the dragon to flap her wings and gain altitude lest she hit it.
But the obstacle didn’t deter Lysilria for long.
As the boat floated under the boardwalk, not far from the spot where Rylana had met the fisher goblin with Jildarin, his aunt banked to come around again.
Rylana lunged for a piling while hooking her feet around the bench so that the rowboat—and her precious stockpot of aquatic yeast—wouldn’t continue on without her. She managed to stop the craft under the boardwalk, but she was far from protected.
The person she’d seen running earlier threw something at the dragon.
For a bewildered moment, Rylana thought Jildarin might have turned back into his human form, but that looked like the outline of a slighter person, of someone female. Someone elven and female, Rylana realized, recognizing the throw—and the pinpoint accuracy of the knife wielder.
The blade struck the approaching dragon in the snout but didn’t deter it.
Worse, Lysilria roared, opening her maw wide.
Fire roiled in the back of her throat. Gonging noises came from pillars on the shoreline and also at the center of Lucky Island.
The alarms didn’t deter the dragon—it wasn’t as if Lysilria ran a business in Tranquility and cared about being banished.
Rylana lifted one of the oars, but it would do precious little against a dragon.
Sylin swung down from the boardwalk. Startled, Rylana gaped as her friend’s boots connected with her shoulder.
Rylana tumbled over the side of the boat, splashing into the cold water.
As the shocking chill enveloped her, another splash erupted nearby—Sylin dropping in right after her.
Expecting the dragon to breathe fire, Rylana welcomed the icy water and dove down deeper. Sylin had the right idea.
The alarm gongs reverberating from the pillar on the island were audible—Rylana could sense them in the water.
No burst of brilliant orange came from above.
Even so, she held her breath, paddling to stay under.
Her knuckles bumped against the side of the rowboat.
Surprisingly, the dragon hadn’t yet lit it on fire.
A purple glow started up beside Rylana. She would have laughed—no doubt, her fall had agitated the organisms into creating their defensive light—but she worried the illumination would make her a target.
When something brushed against her side, Rylana yelped, air escaping in bubbles. But it was Sylin patting her arm. And indicating that it was safe to go up? It was too dark to see her gestures, but the currents stirred, and Rylana sensed Sylin rising to the surface.
Warily, Rylana followed, sucking in air as soon as her head broke the surface.
The rowboat had drifted out from under the boardwalk, but they remained under it, the wood planks blocking part of the sky.
Rylana didn’t see the dragon but imagined her perched atop the boardwalk, talons curled over the railing.
A roar out in the middle of the lake made her look that way.
“How did you know he would arrive in time?” Sylin asked.
It took Rylana a moment to spot not one but two dragons, scarcely above the surface of the lake as they rolled and gyrated, tails splashing the water.
Fighting, she realized. The moonlight was just bright enough that she could see the paler scales—the silver scales—of Jildarin.
Had he flown in and knocked his aunt away before she could light up the boardwalk, the boat, and Rylana?
“He’s my partner,” she said, not admitting that she hadn’t had any idea that Jildarin would arrive in time. “I have faith in him.”
“I guess it’s been a while since I heard him call you my enemy.”
“As we discussed earlier. Jildarin and I are allies now. He faces down enemy dragons, rival chefs, and aquatic yeast, and I reconcile his books and hold his Whiskmaster.”
“His Whiskmaster? Is that a gnomish term for something the baker would twist into an adult croissant?”
“No. I— Oh, the yeast!” Worried they’d knocked the stockpot over while leaping out of the boat, Rylana swam toward it.
“Yeast?” Sylin held the craft steady so Rylana could climb in.
“Aquatic yeast.” A wave washed into her face, keeping her from explaining further.
Grunting, Rylana pulled herself over the side of the boat.
It rocked, and her muscles strained as her soggy clothing and boots weighed her down, but she clambered inside and huffed out a relieved breath.
The stockpot remained upright, the cheesecloth still covering it, though some of the water had sloshed out.
A puddle in the bottom of the boat glowed green.
“Let’s hurry up and row to…” Rylana looked around. She wanted to return to the dock where they’d borrowed the boat, but that part of the shoreline was distant, and the dragons were roaring and snapping at each other not far away. “Lucky Island. That’s closer.”
“There’s another dragon out here somewhere.” Sylin slithered over the side of the rowboat without trouble. “I can sense it.”
“Jildarin’s mom.” While she grabbed an oar, Rylana glanced toward the southern end of the lake, worried Jixana might attack next. She hadn’t been as quick as the aunt to suggest Rylana’s death, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t approve of it.
“His mom?” Sylin took the other oar, and they squished together on the bench to row as a team toward the island.
Rylana looked toward the skirmish. Jildarin and his aunt had stopped attacking each other, but they continued to circle and roar, so she didn’t assume the confrontation was over.
“Who’s that?” Sylin added, pointing at Lysilria.
“His aunt.”
“Is he estranged from his family? That may be an inadequate word for relatives trying to kill you.”
“They don’t want to kill him. They just want to kill me.”
“Are you estranged from his family?”
“They think I’m distracting him from mating with all the female dragons who want his apparently very desirable sperm.”
“I don’t know what to say to that.”
“Well, if they ask you, tell them that I’m not distracting Jildarin because we’re not lovers or mating, as the dragons call it. We’re not anything except business partners.”
“You do sleep next to him in his lair.”
“Sleeping isn’t mating. There are stacks of crates between us, and he’s a dragon when he sleeps.”
“That does suggest a degree of incompatibility.”
“A large degree.” Rylana glanced back to check their progress.
Thank the gods; they were almost there. Not that Lucky Island, with little more than trees, a wedding venue, and an observatory, would be a great place to fend off a dragon attack.
She hoped that with Jildarin here, his pesky relatives would go away.
Farther out in the lake, the roars were dying down. Rylana eyed the southern shoreline again, sure his mother lingered. Not trusting that they were safe, Rylana didn’t slow her rowing.
“Thanks for coming to help and punting me over the side of the boat,” she said, realizing she hadn’t admitted yet that she might have needed that help.
“You’re welcome, but I feel now like I overreacted. You looked like a defenseless duckling staring at your doom approaching. I didn’t realize your... ally was right behind her.”
“It’s fine. Better to overreact than underreact when a dragon is approaching, and thank you for saying ally rather than whatever snarky word first came to your mind.”
“I was going to say partner with a touch of innuendo, but since we’ve established the incompatibility, I stopped myself from uttering something illogical.”
“Good.”
The situation with the mother and the aunt would probably be even worse if they truly were mating. Not that it could get much worse… Was that the dark outline of a dragon perched in the treetops of the wetlands?
Rylana and Sylin reached the island, and the rowboat bumped against the pebbly bottom.
They climbed out, leaving the oars inside, and dragged it onto the beach.
A dragon was flying toward them. Fortunately, it was a silver dragon.
And those were Jildarin’s green eyes visible and flashing with irritation in the moonlight.
Rylana exhaled with relief. For now, he was the only dragon flying toward the island.
“I hope he explained the situation to his mother and aunt.” Rylana looked down at the boat, wondering what to do with the stockpot.
They would either have to row back across the lake or walk along the shoreline with it in their arms. Well, she’d seen Jildarin carry a large and very heavy gnomish commercial oven, so he could manage it.
“I’ll handle toting this,” she said to herself, pulling the Whiskmaster out from under the bench.
She was impressed that it also hadn’t been knocked overboard.
But Sylin always had a light touch, even when she was kicking someone out of a boat.