Chapter 13
Instead of descending to the road leading into Tranquility to change into his human form, Jildarin flew over the city, flapping his wings languidly, as if he were still enjoying himself.
Maybe he didn’t want to shift back. Or maybe he liked the freedom of doing what he wished and not having to abide by the rules of the city.
And yet… to share his culture and prove that dragons were educated and sophisticated, he continued to live among the residents and cook for them.
I must return soon to prepare for the dinner service, Jildarin said.
“Can you fly over the elven enclave first? And deliver a message telepathically?” Rylana had been wondering how she could inform Layothlee that Sylin might meet her at the Avandar Castle boathouse at dusk.
I have the ability to do so. Since, however, I cannot inform the queen that I’ve acquired the promised enchanted morels, I am hesitant to initiate a conversation. She might be disappointed.
“I’m sure she’ll be crestfallen, yes, but it’s Layothlee that I have a message for. If she’s down there, can you let her know Sylin is willing to meet her—probably—at Avandar Castle?”
Probably.
“Yeah, let Layothlee know that she’ll hightail it out of there if a bunch of other elves come along, especially the kind with inimical intent.”
A tail would be an atypical appendage for one of elven blood to possess.
“It’s an expression. Did you find Layothlee yet? Is she down there?”
She is practicing with the other acrobats in the enclave, yes.
“Good. Message, please.”
Jildarin’s head turned enough for him to point one of his emerald eyes at her. Unlike goblins on bicycles, dragons are not message delivery services. Were you not so useful to me in my business, I would sometimes consider you presumptuous.
“If you want, you can fly me down there, and I’ll give her the message. Dragons are transportation services, aren’t they?”
Only for their dearest and most trusted two-legged allies will they deign to fly with a rider.
“I’m honored.” Since she truly was, Rylana dropped low to wrap her arms over his back in as close to a hug as she could manage while he was in this form.
He didn’t react immediately, but then said, I have delivered your message.
“Thank you.”
You will research further on where enchanted morels might be found.
“Yes, I will.”
Jildarin continued over the city and toward the lake, not commenting on whether Layothlee had replied and agreed to come, but Rylana suspected she would. Since their first encounter, she’d been curious about Sylin.
They passed over the Dragon Diner, a surprising amount of green foliage now growing on the rooftop, but Jildarin didn’t land.
If he did so in the middle of Tranquility, the alarm pillars would gong.
Rylana didn’t know how high he needed to fly over the city to keep them from doing so, but he probably knew the exact altitude.
Do you wish me to drop you at your father’s estate before I return to the diner?
“Actually, yes. That would be great.” It was still an hour or two until dusk, but that would give Rylana time to talk to him before Layothlee arrived.
Very well.
On Lumi Lake, the public ferry was departing for the western shoreline.
In nearby waters, numerous freight vessels were angling toward the docks or had already arrived.
Industrious gnomes drove magic- or steam-powered lifting contraptions while ogre, troll, human, and orc laborers in brown uniforms unloaded freight and carried it toward waiting wagons.
Rylana was surprised to spot Tezilly and Brella on one of the docks, waving and pointing at a vessel from one of the southern kingdoms.
“I’ll bet their special shipment came in,” she mused, curious about what they’d ordered.
Deep resonating barks came from the ferry.
Two gnome peacekeepers with their canine log inspectors on leashes looked up at Jildarin.
The copper-furred dogs not only barked but pulled at their handlers, one even rising up on two legs, as if it would spring over the railing and try to reach Jildarin.
The other’s long whippy tail wagged furiously as it bayed, slapping its handler in the hip.
The gnome’s cap fell off, revealing short red hair, and he hurried to retrieve it before the agitated dog stepped on it.
Since the pillars hadn’t sounded, and nobody tried to enforce the Tranquility no-dragons-in-their-native-forms-allowed policy for their airspace, the gnomes didn’t do anything other than try to calm the hounds and watch Jildarin fly languidly across the lake.
At least, Rylana thought he was flying in that direction.
Then his tail twitched, and he turned slightly to circle over the ferry.
Those hounds are trained to sniff out magic.
“And apparently bark at dragons,” Rylana said, though that was a natural instinct and not a trained behavior.
Dragons are the highest form of magical creature.
“I think it’s more your fangs and talons that they’re alerting everyone on the ferry to.”
That is possible. Do you suppose the peacekeepers’ hounds could find magical morels in the forest?
“Maybe. I know there are breeds of dogs trained specifically to find desirable types of mushrooms.”
Enchanted morels are especially desirable.
“If you’re an elf, maybe.” Rylana would happily try his dish if he found some morels, but she didn’t get excited in general by the prospect of mushrooms. And hadn’t Sylin said something about side effects from the magical morels if one overconsumed them?
Noticing that Jildarin was now flying back and forth over the center of the lake, thoughtfully considering the ferry instead of continuing to the far side, Rylana poked him in the back.
“Why don’t you drop me off at my father’s castle, and then you can go ask those gnomes if you can hire them—and their dogs—to search for your mushrooms?”
Hire?
“Yeah, you’re supposed to pay people to work for you, not make them subsist on tips.
” Since that was an old argument for them, and Rylana didn’t expect his opinion on the matter to change, she didn’t mention their servers, but she doubted he would talk the gnomes into trekking outside the city and deep into the forest for tips.
They should be honored to work for a prominent dragon chef from a distinguished clan.
“You can try telling them that, but I’d be prepared to offer gold.”
Gold!
“Silver at least.”
I will offer them several complimentary meals at the diner.
“If they’ve heard of your food, that might suffice. And I’ll bet those hounds would track mushrooms across the world for you if you gave them some bacon.”
Since mushrooms are not ambulatory, they do not need to be tracked, only located.
“It was a joke. Not the part about them working for bacon though. But don’t give them the coffee-rubbed version. Those dogs don’t look like they need any extra stimulation.” Besides, the coffee-rubbed bacon was for her.
Hm. Jildarin shifted his route toward the far bank. I will drop you off to confer with your father and meet the elf. Then I will shift into my human form to speak with the gnomes before returning to the diner to make meal preparations. Once they are satisfactorily underway, I will retrieve you.
“That works.” Rylana hadn’t expected him to return and had planned to take the ferry back to the diner, but if he was offering, she wouldn’t object to a much swifter dragon-back ride. “And I think you’ve got a good idea about getting a gnome with a hound to help.”
Yes. We will locate enchanted morels.
Nervous as Jildarin spread his wings to descend toward the castle, Rylana vacillated between hoping her father wasn’t home again and knowing she had to resolve the eviction issue.
Perhaps cognizant of the wards in the castle, Jildarin didn’t land on the rooftop—not that even the strongest of gnomish security systems would perturb a dragon.
He alighted on the grassy lawn between the castle and the kennel and stable.
Though they couldn’t see them from their enclosures, his arrival prompted horses to whinny and dogs to bark—the log inspector hounds weren’t the only canines who objected to dragons.
Once Rylana slid off Jildarin’s back and he shifted into his human form, they subsided, aside from a few faint whuffs of unease from the stable.
A gargoyle on a corner of the castle roof pulsed and glowed, a warning that the security system had noted their presence.
Rylana headed for one of the back doors and waved at Jildarin as he, not bothered by the animals or the gargoyle, strode around the castle and toward the road to walk down to the dock to greet the peacekeepers.
The door opened before Rylana reached it, and the butler, Zames, stepped out.
“What’s bothering the hounds?” Right away, he spotted Rylana, but he kept looking around until he noticed Jildarin walking away.
“A dragon,” Rylana said. She might have made a joke, but her father walked out after Zames, and she braced herself to confront him.
He carried a ledger book and an atlas of shipping routes under his arm and had a pencil tucked behind one ear. A man in a button-down shirt who carried a notepad and had a pen in hand peered out the doorway after him.
“Rylana,” her father said as Zames hurried to check on the animals, “you didn’t make an appointment.”
“No, but I need to talk to you anyway.” She glanced at the man in the doorway. “It’s important.”
“Did your cousin Tharla visit you?”
“Er, yes, but that’s not what I want to talk about today.” Rylana didn’t want to discuss her fertility with her father on any day. Meeting his gaze, she said, “I know you met with Aztor Melnakin.”
“I do not know who that is.”
That wasn’t the answer that Ryland had expected. Was it possible he’d found and delivered an ultimatum to her landlord without learning his name?
“The owner of the building we’re leasing for the Dragon Diner,” she said.