Chapter 20 #3
He squinted at Rylana, then walked up the beach, not heading toward the road that led from the boardwalk across to the island but toward the evergreens and deciduous trees that covered much of the center.
She recalled that the pillar, wedding pavilion, and observatory were on the far side of the island, placed to offer views toward the lake.
And wasn’t there a small temple for the new god over there too?
Not sure what to make of Jildarin’s squint, Rylana started after him.
A tremor coursed through the ground, and she paused. The quaking went on for several long seconds, tree branches rattling, and she was on the verge of seeking cover when it subsided.
“It looks like the curse extends into the lake and around it.” Rylana wondered how far away the tremors could be felt and where exactly they originated. She looked in the direction of her family’s castle, but she couldn’t see it through the trees.
“Do you want me to take the rowboat back to town?” Sylin waved to the oars. “And leave you two alone so that you can fern frolic if desired?”
“That’s not desired, and I’m not sure it’s safe to row across the lake right now.” Rylana pointed toward Jildarin’s mother. The small earthquake hadn’t disturbed her enough to take flight.
“I can follow the shoreline so that I’m not far from land if I need to get out of the water in a hurry, but I assume the Killcrusher Clan doesn’t have reason to attack me.”
“You’ve admitted to chopping off the tail of a dragon during the war, and I’m sure you targeted others.”
“It was just the tip, and that’s not as egregious a crime to dragons as being of the wrong species and trying to woo one of their kind away from the clan.”
“I wish that weren’t a true statement.” Rylana, thinking of the way the two sisters had still wanted to mate with Jildarin after he’d torn them to pieces, decided dragons were more likely to respect enemies than loathe them and plot revenge.
“But you accept that it is.”
“Yes, fine, but I’m not trying to woo Jildarin. If anyone scaled asks you that, make sure to let them know.”
“You did lean forward and gaze adoringly into his eyes when he touched your shoulder,” Sylin pointed out.
“That’s not wooing, it’s…”
“Admiring?”
“Go away, Sylin.” Rylana made a shooing motion toward the rowboat.
“All right, but what do I do with the pot of water when I get there?”
“Take it back to the diner, please. Oh, and I have another favor to ask of you. If we’re not back yet when Mya comes to work in the morning, will you ask her about aquatic yeasts and if she’s ever used any in baking?
Also if she has any idea how to isolate them from among the other plankton in the pot.
And identify them, I guess. We have no way to know if we lucked into what we need or not. ”
“That’s a detailed favor.”
“More for Mya than you. I just need you to carry the pot and deliver the message.”
“And row the boat across the lake.”
“Maybe this will result in the ending of the curse, and the elves will be in such a good mood that they’ll stop looking for you.”
“If the curse ends, it’s likely they’ll have even more time to look for me.”
“Fortunately, you’ve found a fail-proof new hideout.”
“You’re lucky I returned to Tranquility.”
“Exceedingly so. Shoot, where did Jildarin go?” Rylana squinted into the gloom of the woods, but he’d disappeared, searching for whatever individual whose presence he found suspicious.
“Perhaps he’s looking for frolic-appropriate ferns.”
“If only,” Rylana murmured and walked into the trees to look for him.
Since the island was close to town and popular with the locals, numerous trails traversed the wooded area, and she didn’t have much trouble maneuvering along them in the dark.
Only about twenty acres in size, the island didn’t take long to cross, and she soon spotted the dome-shaped observatory through the trees and the solitary pillar rising near it.
Rylana paused before walking out of the woods toward them, catching faint clinks and scrapes off to her right. Digging sounds?
“Over here,” came Jildarin’s soft voice, also to her right.
She left a path to pick her way through undergrowth toward him and found him with his shoulder to a tree while looking toward a hexagon-shaped stone structure.
A temple to the new god, its steep roof slanted upward to a point with a finial on top.
The digging sounds were coming from the outside of one of the walls.
Because of the shadows, it took Rylana a moment to pick out a human figure kneeling there with tools.
She scratched her jaw, wondering who it was and what he or she was up to.
Jildarin looked upward, the starry sky visible through the branches of trees that hadn’t yet fully leafed out. One of the black dragons soared overhead, looking down at the island. The pillar started gonging with indignation.
Rylana grimaced at the noise and shook her head, surprised the peacekeepers hadn’t brought a patrol out to check on the situation yet, but maybe they were so busy responding to fires and other manifestations of the curse that they hadn’t noticed the dragons flying around.
“Cursed blight,” the digger growled, glancing toward the pillar and also the sky. “What now?”
Rylana gaped. She recognized that voice. Vernest Vormalt.