Chapter 10
As Rylana followed Jildarin away from the entertainment and toward the magnolias at the back of the field, she noticed a special seating area had been prepared on an elevated platform in the rear.
Blankets and chairs had been placed where they offered a good view of the stage, and elven guards were stationed around them.
Someone in a veil sat among numerous elven elders, and Rylana paused, wondering if that might be the queen.
“This way,” Jildarin said quietly, barely glancing at the elves.
Nerves fluttered in Rylana’s stomach as he drew her into the trees.
They could still see much of the performance, but the flower-filled branches gave them a semblance of privacy.
He stood with his back to one of the trunks and faced the stage, as if he’d merely wanted to watch from a more distant and private nook.
She stood shoulder to shoulder with him, waiting for him to divulge whatever was on his mind.
As the music softened for a slower dance scene, Jildarin looked at her. “You are aware that I sometimes fall asleep in my human form before shifting into a dragon, yes? Especially when I’m tired?”
“I’ve noticed that a few times, yes.”
“A few times of late, I’ve even shifted in my sleep, as if, for some reason, my body unconsciously desired to be in that state.”
“That’s interesting.” Rylana had no idea where the conversation was going.
“When I sleep in this form, I find myself waking up with… I believe the human term for an engorged male sex organ is an erection, yes?”
Startled, it took Rylana a moment to find an answer. This wasn’t what she’d expected him to want to talk about back here. “Like the goblin-zerg-stick cakes from the bakery, yes.”
“Correct. I’ve not previously spent so much time in this form, so I am uncertain… Well, in my early days, even months, at the diner, I was barely aware of that appendage, other than for the role it plays in waste excretion.”
Rylana rubbed her face. Had she truly thought he might have romance in mind when he’d brought her back here? That he might whisper his secret adoration for her?
No, he had concerns that he should be taking up with a doctor.
“Lately, it has been more… active,” Jildarin said. “A daily occurrence.”
“Waking up with your zerg stick pointing skyward isn’t that uncommon for males of the intelligent mammalian species. The ogres call theirs trees. Dawn trees.”
Judging by the why-are-you-explaining-this look he gave her, Jildarin wasn’t interested in the terminology of the various species.
“Anyway,” Rylana said, “it’s especially common when you’re younger, but I think it still happens when you’re older.”
“I am not certain what age my body simulates or appears to be when I shift into human form, but it has been approximately two hundred years since I hatched.”
“Pretty impressive that you’re still getting dawn trees then.”
Jildarin sighed at her.
She waved away the term. “If you’re concerned about it, you could talk to a doctor, but I think it means you’re kind of normal and have, uhm, healthy blood flow.” Why were her cheeks heating?
“The frequency has increased since you started sleeping in my lair.” Did he sound… puzzled? Or accusatory? His brow remained creased, and it was hard to tell.
“Sorry. Do you want me to leave?”
“No. But I am attempting to understand this phenomenon. I have heard that human females emit pheromones as part of the process to attract a mate.”
Rylana rubbed her face again. “I doubt I’m doing that, but, if I were, it wouldn’t be a conscious choice.”
“That is what my reading informed me.”
“You’ve looked this up?”
“At the library one morning when I woke especially…” Jildarin glanced at her.
“Alert. Apparently, while common in other species, there is little documentation to suggest human females emit chemical signals. Further, it’s believed that male humans lack a functioning vomeronasal organ, which would be required to detect pheromones if they were emitted. ”
“That must have been fascinating reading.”
“Increasing one’s understanding on topics of personal importance is fascinating.”
“You’re an interesting date, Jildarin.”
“Yes.”
Rylana smiled, gazed around the trees and the park, and decided she didn’t mind discussing Jildarin’s library readings with him. Even if this wasn’t what she’d thought they would talk about when he’d drawn her back into the shadows, he was a more entertaining companion than many she’d had.
Her roving gaze chanced upon an elven guard who’d wandered away from the gathering of elders and stood on the path nearby.
He wasn’t looking at them, but why did Rylana have a feeling he was monitoring them?
She hoped the elves didn’t think she was a threat to their elders—or the queen, if that was who was under the veil.
“With the morning erection comes a desire for coitus which is not logical since I do not intend to impregnate any females of a two-legged species. I am doubtful that is even possible since I am a dragon.” Now, Jildarin sounded a little exasperated.
Or annoyed. That the biology of the form he’d chosen was imposing itself upon his day?
“I think human males—and the same goes for dwarves, ogres, orcs, trolls, and especially goblins, from what I’ve seen—have a subconscious imperative to, ah, impregnate as many females as possible. To ensure their genetic material will be passed on. A lot.”
“Ah. Yes, that was discussed in the book I read. A subconscious imperative. I’d glossed dismissively over it. Hm.” Now he sounded more thoughtful than annoyed or exasperated. Maybe even enlightened.
Rylana didn’t laugh, but she had to stifle the urge to do so.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to get my own room? Your life might be less complicated if my pheromones weren’t floating all over your lair.”
“You will not leave,” Jildarin said promptly. “You are my business partner.”
“And thus should sleep on the floor in your storeroom.”
“In the place of our work, yes.”
“Even if nice lodgings with a bed and a mattress happened to become available nearby?”
Jildarin gazed at her. “You require such furnishings? Did you not, as a mercenary, sleep in a tent or, if you were patrolling the jungles in search of enemies, on the ground or in a tree?”
“Yes, but that’s not ideal for humans, especially human women. We like a few comforts.”
“Like nesting material? Female dragons are more drawn to preparing nesting areas in our caves, especially when the egg-laying time approaches, than males, who are content sleeping on rocks.”
“I’m not planning to lay any eggs, despite my father’s wishes, but, yes, I suppose you could think of a bed that way. As a nest.”
Jildarin nodded. “I understand. Perhaps there would be room to dedicate a small section of my lair to such a thing.”
Rylana scratched her jaw. She’d been thinking more of getting a room somewhere nearby, one furnished with such niceties as a bed, wardrobe, and maybe even a bathtub.
“What materials do humans favor?” Jildarin asked.
“For… beds?”
“The favored nesting materials for female dragons are pine boughs, silver-feather maiden grass, giant reeds, mud, the furry hides of their prey, and, to scratch itchy scales, the bones and fangs of fallen enemies.”
“You know, a rented room is sounding more and more appealing.”
“You will not leave. You will prepare your nesting area as you wish. As someone who has slept with gnomish commercial ovens prodding me in my back, I understand that it is not desirable to rest in an uncomfortable position.”
“That is true.” This also wasn’t a conversation she’d expected to have with Jildarin, and she wondered what that pointy-eared guard—he was clearly eavesdropping—thought of it.
If she’d just been given permission to spruce up her corner of the warehouse with a bed and wardrobe, she wouldn’t regret the chat, regardless of what the elf thought.
“After we’ve resolved the eviction issue, maybe I’ll go shopping. ”
“Do so.”
“It would be a shame if I left, and you didn’t wake up alert as often.”
She’d meant that as a joke, but he considered it in silence for a long moment.
Then he stepped closer, his chest brushing her arm and his hand rising to rest on her shoulder.
A zing of awareness went through her as she felt the heat of his body, the magical power that he emanated, electric against her skin.
“Lately,” he said quietly, “it is not only in the morning that my body is in that state.”
“Oh?” she asked, a hitch to her voice.
Rylana wanted to lean into him, to shift to face him, but he hadn’t yet admitted… Did he want intimacy with her? After he’d made it clear several times that he didn’t, she hesitated to assume.
“Since you first battled the sisters with me by what your kind call Toadstool Rock, and I realized you do not desire to kill me… I’ve been more drawn to stand close to you. Notions have swept into me, a desire to… touch you.” He leaned his head close and nuzzled her hair, inhaling her scent.
Tingles of desire shot through Rylana, and she couldn’t resist leaning into him.
She wanted to feel the hard musculature of his chest under his tunic, wanted him to do whatever he’d been fantasizing about as he woke from his dreams. She shifted enough to rest her hand on his shoulder and turn her face toward his.
“I’d be okay with that,” she whispered.
“I am aware. But, even if there were some logical reason to engage in coitus, it would be unwise.”
“I don’t mind being unwise.” She let her fingers touch his neck, tracing the strong tendons there, then brushing her nails along his jaw. “I’m regularly unwise.”
Jildarin snorted softly, his warm breath stirring her hair, sending another tingle through her.
“Through no fault of your own, you’ve drawn the ire of my clan.
I would prefer they come to realize you are not a…
distraction to me. That is what they call you.
They are unfairly dismissive.” He mirrored her light touches, running his fingers along her jaw, then brushing her ear before sliding them back into her hair, where they lingered.
“This is curiously soft. Unlike dragons, who are hard everywhere. Scales are not soft and… silky.”
Heat and pleasure thrummed through Rylana. She longed to kiss him, to plaster herself to him and show him what arousal really was.
“You’ve faced many dragons in battle,” he murmured, “and, yet, they do not realize that you are brave and have value. My clan wants you gone, dead. That is intolerable.”
“I agree completely.” Rylana rose on her tiptoes and brought her lips to his, daring to touch them, to even trace them and tease them with her tongue.
The last time she’d kissed him, under the influence of his dragon spices, he’d stood stunned, not reacting at all, not giving any indication that it was pleasurable. But this time, he kissed her back while sliding his arms down to wrap around her.
Surprised and pleased, she leaned further into him. Maybe the book he’d read had discussed the proper response to a kiss. If it had been responsible for this, she would cheer its authors and have gifts of coffee and baked goods delivered to them.
Unfortunately, as Rylana slid her arms over his shoulders and up into his hair, wanting to enjoy its soft silkiness, a throat cleared nearby.
They broke the kiss and turned to look toward the path.
What had been one elven guard had turned into three, and they were all looking at Rylana and Jildarin.
Her cheeks heated. What, was kissing not allowed in a park where an elven ballet was taking place?
Jildarin hadn’t yet stepped back from Rylana, and he lifted his chin, as if he might say something defiant, but one of the guards spoke first.
“Pardon the interruption,” he said, more politely than she’d expected, “but one of our elders desires to speak with you.”
Right away, Rylana had a hunch and looked toward the audience. Most people were still seated and watching the final act of the show. The veiled female had disappeared, however, and so had the entourage of elves who’d been around her.
Rylana still didn’t know if that had been the queen, but if that was who wanted to speak to Jildarin, she didn’t want to keep her waiting. He might regret it if their dalliance distracted him from his quest of making a fine meal for her. Reluctantly, she lowered her arms and stepped back.
“Go ahead.” Rylana nodded at him and waved toward the elves.
“Actually, you are the one she desires to speak with.” The male elf pointed at her.
Rylana touched her chest and almost looked behind her, as if someone more interesting to the elves might lean out from behind a tree.
“Yes, Lady Avandar.”
She bit her lip, thinking of all the suspicious looks she’d received from their people these past weeks, of how more than one had wanted to take her to their enclave for questioning about Sylin.
Then she thought of the sealed envelope that she hadn’t yet had a chance to give to Sylin.
At the time, she’d assumed Layothlee had written whatever lay inside, but she had said she’d been instructed by someone else to deliver it.
Could the queen have written it? Did she want to meet Sylin for some reason?
Or maybe she wanted personally to confront the elf who’d killed so many of their kind during the war.
Maybe she even wanted to get rid of that person, especially if she, like so many others, believed Sylin a threat to her.
Rylana had no idea about the elf queen’s motivations or her personality or anything about her.
She’d been a distant figure in the war, far from the front lines.
“I will accompany Rylana,” Jildarin stated.
Maybe he had reservations of his own. Of course, it was possible he’d also guessed the veiled female was the queen, and he wanted to speak of his mushroom medleys to her.
The elves glanced at each other. The speaker looked like he wanted to say Jildarin hadn’t been invited, but he must have decided he would let someone else deny such a powerful being.
“Very well, Lord Dragon.” The speaker crooked a finger in invitation.
Rylana braced herself to find out what her summoner wanted.