Chapter 19 #3
“It was a joke.” Rylana pointed and led the way in the direction the hound and gnome had gone.
They were circling back toward Toadstool Rock, so she decided to check the burned area herself.
“Anyway, you had to work within the schedule of the coffee-shop owners to enact your scheme, and they were planning their unveiling of their specialty whatever it is tonight.”
“Dragons do not scheme.” Jildarin sniffed with derision. “Gnomes scheme. Goblins scheme.”
“What does a dragon call it when he’s manipulating other people to achieve his goals?”
“The urging of lesser species to rise up for a greater purpose is considered a noble act.”
“And getting the elf queen’s name on your plaque serves a greater purpose.”
“Clearly.”
Rylana squinted at him. Was that a hint of a smile on his lips?
“I’m never sure when you’re being obtusely pompous and when you’re joking,” she said.
“Dragon humor is sophisticated and difficult for lesser species to grasp.” Yes, he was smiling, and his eyes even glinted with amusement.
“You’re lucky I’m not easily offended. If I left in a huff, you’d have to go back to handling the books for the diner yourself.”
“That would be most dreadful. Fortunately, due to the installment of your new nesting area, you are doubtless pleased enough with me to forgive me for a faux pas inadvertently created due to dragon-human cultural differences.”
“I am pleased with you about the nest.”
“As I suspected.”
The third round of baying announced the discovery of an ancient hunting horn made from ivory with a gold filigree around the rim.
Surprisingly detailed pictures were carved on two sides, one featuring dwarves battling an ancient woolly mammoth and the other depicting the same warriors at a feast with mugs and platters of food laden with steaks presumably carved from the downed mammoth.
The workmanship was impressive, especially given how long the horn might have been buried out there, and Rylana could imagine it cleaned up and on display in a museum.
Jildarin, of course, sighed again.
“I’m sorry, Lord Dragon.” Despite being excited by all the finds—this had to be an atypical number of priceless magical artifacts to locate in a single morning of searching—Bixtok looked a little abashed.
“Perhaps if you direct your hound to search around the burned trees over there.” Rylana pointed toward her former battle site, the charred trunks visible from their spot. “I read that morels enjoy such environments.”
“Ah, of course. I should have thought of that. Admittedly, this is what Willow and I usually do.” The gnome lifted the horn. “I’ve actually only foraged for mushrooms a couple of times. With, uhm, my grandmother when I was a boy.”
“You informed me that you had great skill in this area,” Jildarin said.
“In the area of finding enchanted things, yes. A gift for you, Lord Dragon.” Bixtok offered the horn.
“I do not desire that gift.”
“Actually,” Rylana said, a thought of bribing someone who did desire such things sprouting, “I’ll take it, if you don’t mind.”
“Certainly not,” Bixtok said. “You’ve paid for my time today.”
“Let us go to the burned area,” Jildarin said.
Rylana thought of her brother’s collection on the walls in the shipping office as she tucked away the horn. If she had to bribe him to tell the landlord not to evict them, she would.
When they reached the charred trees, the dog bounded eagerly about, alternately pointing her nose in the air to catch scents in the wind and sniffing at the ground as she meandered around logs, stumps, brush, and trees.
At the base of a charred pine, she wagged and looked expectantly at the gnome. As if she anticipated praise.
“Ah, a more subtle alert.” Bixtok jogged over.
“Let’s hope enchanted morels prompt dog subtlety,” Rylana said, following him.
Jildarin folded his arms over his chest and waited, not looking like he expected the desired result.
But when Bixtok bent to investigate what the hound had located, he smiled and looked back at Rylana. His expression wasn’t much different from the dog’s.
“Good girl, Willow,” Bixtok crooned and doled out treats.
Then he took a knife and sliced something off the ground. He held it up into the air, the morel mushroom shape clear, and… was it beaming a faint moonlight silver?
“I hope it stops glowing by the time you eat it,” Rylana murmured.
“The enchanted morel. Finally!” Jildarin strode forward and knelt to pick others growing in the disturbed area.
The dog tentatively wagged her tail at him.
Rylana expected Jildarin to ignore Willow, since he hadn’t been impressed from the beginning by the hound. And, surely, a four-legged canine was even less of a lesser species than humans, at least in the eyes of dragons.
But he gave her an awkward pat on the back and said, “Yes. You and the gnome have earned meals at the diner and may come to eat.”
The tail wag grew more vigorous. Bixtok beamed.
While Jildarin collected his mushroom bounty, Rylana eyed the horn and wondered if it would be enough of a prize to entice her brother to leave the diner alone.