Chapter 24
Jildarin stepped protectively in front of Rylana before she could come up with a response to Zilek’s statement.
“I trust you are not considering obeying Aunt Lysilria,” Jildarin said.
“It’s generally a wise idea to obey one’s elder relatives,” Zilek said, “especially if one wants to retain access to the family hoard, and I do, indeed, enjoy the lifestyle that our clan’s gold provides.”
“You will not harm my business partner. Dragons do not need opulent lifestyles.”
“Oh, but you know I enjoy the amenities and entertainment of Tranquility. Though the curse has meant fewer venues are open, and did you know that the elven Windsong Traveling Troupe has postponed their opening night performance indefinitely? At least until the curse can be lifted. I had hoped to watch the agile and beauteous Lady Layothlee perform last night.” Zilek clenched a fist to his heart and looked at the ceiling, as if pained deeply.
But he soon lowered his arm to look at Jildarin and Rylana again.
“My brother, our aunt claims that your infatuation with this human is the reason that you’re not springing forth to mate with females of your own kind.
I tried to explain that I am quite certain you’re not having sexual interactions with your bookkeeper, and that she shot you during the war, but we both know that a little violence wouldn’t deter a dragon’s interest, should he have any.
If anything, it might bestir greater interest in a possible mate. ”
“Excuse me, but I’m trying to make dough to satisfy a troll god here,” Mya said, her sleeves rolled up as she kneaded the mixture she’d put together. The look she gave Zilek—actually, she directed her glower toward all of them—suggested she would prefer they have the conversation elsewhere.
“Are troll gods picky?” Zilek asked in bemusement, not taking the hint to leave the kitchen.
“More than you might expect,” Jildarin said.
Rylana didn’t know how seriously to take the threat of Zilek, but she had no doubt that he was capable of killing her.
After all, he’d battled enemies in the war, the same as Jildarin, and survived.
She tried to see past Zilek, to her bow and quiver leaning by the exit of the bakery, but he stood in the doorway to the kitchen, effectively blocking access to the weapons.
Even if she could get by him and snatch them up, she would still have to untie the tranquility knots, and their magic made that a difficult task within the borders of the city.
“Interesting,” Zilek said. “I hope the gods will be appeased by it. But, my dear brother, won’t you let me obey Aunt Lysilria?
As you might recall, you didn’t desire to hire the human female.
You can’t have grown that attached to her in such a short time.
You even told me that you might have killed her yourself when you first saw her, except that the peacekeepers intervened. ”
“We have been through much since then.” Jildarin stepped aside but only so that he could rest a hand on Rylana’s shoulder as he gazed defiantly at his brother. “You will not kill her. She is not even armed. An attempt to slay even a loathed enemy in such a manner would be ignoble.”
“Would you allow it if she collected her bow, we left Tranquility, and I attacked her while she’s capable of defending herself with her chosen weapon?”
“No, I would not. She is not…” Jildarin looked at Rylana as if groping for a way to explain their relationship.
She didn’t mind the pause. She was touched that he cared and wanted to defend her, and his hand on her shoulder made her think of him offering his warmth when they’d crouched in the undergrowth.
“She is not an enemy,” was how Jildarin decided to finish the sentence, facing his brother again.
“I see that.” Zilek looked back and forth between them. Considering how close Jildarin stood to her? “Perhaps I was wrong. Is Aunt Lysilria correct that this female is a distraction?”
“Certainly not.” Jildarin stepped even closer to Rylana, his chest brushing her arm, and a little shiver went through her. “She is my business partner.”
“Have you claimed her sexually yet?”
Mya had been oiling a bowl, but she knocked it on the floor.
“Certainly not,” Jildarin repeated.
Amusement gleamed in Zilek’s amber eyes. “Do you want to?”
“There is no point in mating for recreational purposes.” Did Jildarin sound flustered?
No, that was Rylana’s imagination.
Zilek glanced at her chest. “Oh, there’s a point.”
Rylana clenched a fist. “I might delight in leaving the city so that I could shoot you with my bow.”
Zilek grinned. “She has spirit.”
Jildarin growled, his gaze icy as he glared at his brother. Dangerous power radiated from him.
Zilek’s grin only widened. “I would not blame you for being distracted by her.”
“But you would kill her, regardless?”
Growing more somber and thoughtful, Zilek looked at his brother, then at Rylana and also at Mya, who’d retrieved the fallen bowl and gone back to working on the dough, though she appeared to be listening intently. She hadn’t reiterated her suggestion that they leave.
“If the female matters to you,” Zilek said, “I will not slay her.”
“Good.” Jildarin’s expression grew slightly less dark. “I will make the soup you requested.”
“To help me woo the elven ballerina? Excellent. Since her performances have been canceled, she’s probably bored and woefully bereft of companionship.”
“I have no doubt,” Jildarin said.
Rylana thought about mentioning that she’d warned Layothlee about Zilek and his soup plans but decided against it.
Though Jildarin seemed to believe that his brother had spoken the truth when he’d said he wouldn’t go after her, she wouldn’t feel safe around him going forward—that whole clan seemed to have it out for her.
She decided it would be wise not to go out of her way to annoy Zilek.
“We are enacting a plan to end the curse,” Jildarin said. “You may leave now. Once we’ve been successful, I will have the goblin deliver soup to you. You may attempt to woo whomever you wish with it.”
“Excellent.” Zilek bowed to him and started to turn, but he paused.
He looked back and pointed to Jildarin’s hand, which still rested on Rylana’s shoulder.
“For your edification, should you change your mind about recreational mating, that is not the body part you’ll want to grip.
” Zilek slapped a palm to his pectoral before walking out.
Brow crinkling in confusion, Jildarin looked at his hand on Rylana’s shoulder, then shifted his gaze lower.
A little wistful, she supposed she shouldn’t hope that enlightenment—and arousal—would dawn upon him as he eyed her chest. His head tilted, as if he were considering…
something. But then Mya thumped her dough into the bowl and dragged over a box-shaped item, and Jildarin let go of Rylana’s shoulder and looked away from her chest.
“Thanks for defending me,” Rylana said. “Your family is a problem.”
“Zilek has always been a problem.”
“I meant for me.”
“I know. But I will ensure they do not harm you.”
“You can’t watch me every second of every day. Do you think Zilek will obey your wishes and leave me alone?”
“You do sleep in my lair and work in my diner. Should you refrain from visiting the coffee establishment, I can watch you most seconds.”
Rylana opened her mouth to give a tart response about the likelihood of that, but the front door opened first, and the half-gnome server, Vilma, walked in, carrying a large latte.
“Ahhhh,” Rylana purred, fishing out a coin and a tip before accepting it.
“You will not refrain,” Jildarin said, watching her as she took a long gulp. The sample had tided her over, but she needed this.
“Nope.” Rylana sipped again.
“Let me know if you need a second serving,” Vilma said with a smirk, waving to Mya before departing.
“What I need,” Mya said, “is a dragon with hands that emanate magic. The sooner the gluten develops, the sooner we can bake it and offer it to a god. Come, Chef Jildarin. Hold my proofing box.”
Rylana almost said that sounded suggestive, but the ongoing crease to Jildarin’s brow promised he was still trying to work out what his brother’s comment had implied.
“I will come,” he said but turned back to Rylana first. “At the elven enclave, you spoke to the ballerina known as Layothlee.”
“I did.”
“That is the elf Zilek has a sexual interest in, yes?”
“Yeah.”
“Did you warn her about the soup?”
“I did, actually,” Rylana said, surprised Jildarin already knew. Maybe he’d caught some of their conversation, either with his keen ears or with his magic.
“Good. Zilek will not have success with his pursuit unless she desires it.”
“I think that’s right.” Rylana was glad Jildarin cared that his dragon spices might be used against the wishes of the unsuspecting and had only agreed to make the soup because Layothlee already understood the risk.
Rylana almost pointed out that the elf had seemed too sharp to fall for Zilek’s ploy regardless.
But, since she’d been seduced by the aroma of the soup, she couldn’t make too many assumptions about people’s ability to resist it.
“Good,” Jildarin repeated and joined Mya at the counter.
“Rylana,” came a whisper from behind the kitchen.
Sylin crouched on the narrow stairs up to the attic.
“How long have you been there?” Rylana joined her while Jildarin held the proofing box, a kitchen tool Rylana knew nothing about.
The dough was in there, though, presumably rising and doing whatever else dough needed to do.
“I would have ordered a coffee for you if I’d known you were still in the area. ”
“I just returned. There are elves and gnomes out front so I came in the back way.” Sweat gleamed on Sylin’s forehead as she pointed toward the attic. Had she been jogging?
“There’s not a door up there.” Rylana knew that well since she’d been up there so recently.
“The window overlooking the alley counts as a back way,” Sylin said.
“Only if you’re a squirrel.”
Sylin waved away the argument. “I ran back to Lucky Island to see why it was glowing blue.”
“Because Vormalt’s explosives blew up the temple, I assume.” Rylana hoped the gnome peacekeepers who had been left in the area hadn’t been nearby when that had happened.
“The explosives blew up a temple.”
Rylana had been about to ask if the gnomes were all right but paused at the emphasis in Sylin’s sentence. “What do you mean? The new-god temple is the only one on Lucky Island.”
“That you knew about, perhaps. What the explosion revealed is another buried—formerly buried—troll-god chamber. It’s larger than the one under your castle. It looks like someone brought in a lot of dirt a long time ago and that the new-god temple was deliberately placed on top to help cover it up.”
“I’ve heard that some of the new-god temples in Tranquility were built over old religious sites. Is that where the blue glow is coming from?”
“It is. And your castle is still glowing.”
“I’m aware. If Vormalt hadn’t been here at the time, I would think he’d tipped over the idols again.”
“Is that your offering?” Sylin peered past her shoulder.
Per Mya’s instructions, Jildarin was holding her box, but he was also watching them speak.
“Bread dough, yeah,” Rylana said.
“You may want to bring it to Lucky Island.”
“After the bread is baked? To leave as an offering? That’s the plan, though that wasn’t the temple I’d been thinking of.”
“You may want to bring it to the island before it’s baked,” Sylin said.
“Uh, just the dough?”
“Bring a shovel too. One full side of the troll-god temple is taken up by what I think is an ancient brick bread oven.”