Chapter 21 #2
“My aunt is communicating with me,” Jildarin said, probably unaware of Rylana leaning against him. Well, as long as he didn’t mind. “She is… peeved.”
“That’s not a word I’ve heard used to describe dragons often.”
“She thinks that because I’ve turned into a human and am nestled in the trees with you—her word—that I am flouting my mother.”
“Tell her about the curse, and that we’re spying, not nestling.” A chilly breeze whispered across the island, and Rylana shifted, wishing they were nestling. Somewhere warm, not in the damp foliage.
The two peacekeepers left the beach and headed for the boardwalk. The pair checking the observatory walked out.
“I am attempting to explain.” Jildarin looked at her. “You tremble because you are cold?”
“Yeah, someone knocked my ass out of a boat into the lake.”
“My aunt,” he said grimly.
It had been Sylin, but, since it had been the dragon’s fault, Rylana didn’t correct him. “I don’t like her much either.”
“Understandable. You seek the warmth of my body.” Jildarin sounded like he was trying to puzzle out why she was leaning on him—she supposed dragons were similar to lizards and didn’t snuggle for body heat.
“Yeah, it’s nice.” She shivered again. “You’re dry.”
“Yes.” Jildarin wrapped an arm around Rylana’s shoulders.
Oh, that was especially nice. She snuggled closer, delighted that he cared enough to want to keep her warm. Maybe he felt guilty because his aunt was trying to kill her. Whatever prompted his solicitude, she welcomed it.
“It sounds like you received my letter,” Vormalt said when the uniformed gnomes had departed, leaving only the high priest and the mayor.
“You are fortunate that I did so before our government offices caught on fire,” Sedgewick said coolly. “Were you responsible for that? It is hard for me to believe that the troll gods, after all this time, are suddenly affronted by gnomes and are lighting our buildings on fire.”
“I’ve set no fires,” Vormalt said, indignation in his tone. “I’m not a criminal.”
Rylana eyed the temple, thinking of the magical devices he’d placed. Magical explosives unless she was wrong.
“I’m not the one,” Vormalt continued, “who’s been lying to an entire city. It is the gnomes who came up with this fabrication and have for generations allowed and encouraged the new god to be spoken about and prayed to all over the world.”
“Nobody is lying,” the high priest said. “You’ve been spreading nonsense.”
Sedgewick lifted a hand toward his fellow gnome.
“Even if the accusations you make now and also shared in your letter were correct,” he said to Vormalt, “which they are not, what is it that you seek to gain? And why would we believe that you, a human who has nothing to do with the trolls and their gods, can put an end to the curse?”
“I’m an archaeologist and have researched this area extensively.
I know all about the trolls who originally inhabited these banks.
As to what I want, a small monthly payment to my family of ten percent of the shipping revenue the docks take in via fees and taxes.
As you’ll find if you dig into your records, my ancestors once owned the land where the major freight docks are now situated.
They were tricked into giving it up for a pittance by a high priest of the supposed new god who said he would bless the family—but threatened to curse them if they didn’t agree.
” Vormalt lifted his chin to glare down at the gnomes.
They exchanged long looks with each other.
“Today, your family owns other quality land and has businesses in the city, does it not?” Sedgewick asked. “It seems the blessing worked.”
“The blessing was a sham,” Vormalt snapped. “Your whole religion is a sham. That you’ve deluded thousands—probably hundreds of thousands—into not only believing it but basing their lives and cultures around it is ludicrous.”
“Neither the new god nor his Ten Righteous Ways is a sham,” the high priest snapped back. “I’ve personally received visitations and wisdom from he who looks over all those who embrace peace.”
“After how many mugs of ale?” Vormalt asked.
“I was not drunk when I communicated with the new god.”
“Then you were hallucinating. If that happens frequently, you should seek medical advice.”
The high priest seethed. “I will not—”
Sedgewick stopped him with a hand on his forearm.
“Listen, Vormalt. Even if what you say is true and that your family once held land on that side of the lake—and I’d want to thoroughly investigate our history records before accepting that as a fact—I’m sure that your ancestors didn’t gain it through rightful means.
If you’ve studied the local history, you know that trolls have lived in this area for millennia and claimed the lands around the lake long before your kind settled in the north. ”
“Trolls lived in the area, yes, but they’re a nomadic people, and it’s not part of their culture to claim ownership over land. Humans are different.”
“Tell me about it,” Sedgewick muttered.
Rylana shifted her weight, her thighs growing tired from crouching in the trees, but she didn’t want to stand and risk making noise.
Now that the pillar had stopped its alarm, the snapping of a twig might give them away.
Next to her, Jildarin wasn’t moving in the least. He could have been a statue, save for the warmth he continued to share with her.
She debated what they should do. She wasn’t sure what she had expected Vormalt to demand, but she hadn’t realized his family might have a legitimate claim on land the city had been built atop.
Even so, the method he was using to try to get reparations—if his demands could be considered that—was far from legal.
“This is a waste of time,” the high priest said. “That we’re here listening to you threaten us with blackmail is—”
“A sign of your desperation,” Vormalt interrupted, though his gaze remained on the mayor.
Maybe he considered Sedgewick more likely to listen—or more able to meet his demands if the gnomes agreed to them.
“And you should be desperate. The curse is getting worse by the hour, isn’t it?
” Vormalt waved in the direction of the elven enclave and government buildings, though the trees kept them from seeing the flames from their current position.
“I know how to end it, and I’m being very reasonable.
I could demand ten percent going back for all the centuries that have passed and that gnomes have profited. I could demand the land back.”
Sedgewick sighed and looked toward the sky. “We must have time to consider your terms. I’m an elected official, so I can’t unilaterally make deals that would affect Tranquility beyond the years during which I’ll serve.”
“Deals can be made that bind a government in perpetuity. I would be happy to send a list I’ve prepared of instances when it’s happened.”
“I’ll bet.”
Faint crunches came from the woods behind Rylana and Jildarin.
“A golem approaches,” he murmured.
“Us or them?” she whispered back.
Snuffling noises came from the same direction as the crunches. That sounded more like a dog than a golem.
“Mayor?” a call came from the woods. It sounded like the lieutenant. He must not have departed after all. Or maybe he’d had a hunch there was magic out here and had gone to fetch some of their trained hounds.
“Due to my magical nature,” Jildarin said quietly, “I may have been detected.”
“There aren’t just dragons in the air,” the lieutenant called. “There’s one here on the island.”
Rylana slumped, worried she and Jildarin would somehow be blamed for Vormalt’s scheme.