Chapter 18 #2
His shoulder muscles bunched, and he tried to escape, but Rylana's years as a mercenary had left her capable of keeping a man pinned—especially one whose thinking and reflexes were slowed by dragon spices.
“Let’s go, Jowlark.” His companion took his free arm and nodded to Rylana that she would take him away.
She released the man, but as she headed toward another couple, a hint of smoke reached her nose.
“Do you smell that? Is something on fire in the kitchen?” Rylana waved for Sylin to keep dragging people into the street and jogged to check.
Flames burned heartily in the pantry as someone skulked away from it. A goblin in a cloak. For a confused moment, Rylana thought it was Rolf, but he was out front helping Gniknik.
“Fire!” the goblin blurted when he saw her.
He pointed at the pantry and tried to run out the door. Rylana intercepted him, suspecting he’d started it.
“Who are you?” she demanded, then called, “Zalani, bring your water bucket!”
That wouldn’t be enough. The flames were spreading, and Rylana grimaced, almost releasing the goblin when he struggled for freedom.
“I’m nobody,” he squeaked, flailing and trying to escape her grip. His head came down, and he bit her arm.
Rylana snarled and pushed him against the wall beside the doorway as Zalani ran in. “Who hired you?”
“Nobody!”
“You’re nobody, and nobody hired you?”
“Yes!”
“Fire!” someone called from the storeroom.
“Another one?” Rylana patted down the goblin, finding pockets with matches in them. She also pulled out a sack with what felt like sand inside. “What’s this?”
“Nothing! Let me go. I’m innocent!”
“As innocent as Rolf, I’m sure.”
Gniknik ran past in the hallway. “The whole building is on fire! Everyone out!”
“I need help, Rylana!” Zalani blurted, filling a pot and throwing water into the pantry.
The second time the goblin bit Rylana, his teeth grinding through her sleeve to tear into flesh, she yelped in pain and released him.
She almost lunged after him, but the gong of a pillar sounding reached her ears.
Peacekeepers might run inside at any moment, and she didn’t want to be caught pummeling someone.
Besides, the fires were a greater concern at the moment.
She did, however, stuff the sack of powder into her pocket before leaping to the sink to grab and fill a stockpot.
Meanwhile, the remaining amorous couples realized their danger and raced for the front door. Smoke hazed the air and made Rylana's eyes water, but at least the dining room wasn’t on fire yet.
“What is happening?” came a booming voice from the storeroom.
Jildarin.
“Two hells,” Rylana blurted, distressed that she hadn’t been able to fix the mess before he’d returned.
“He can help!” Zalani cried as she threw more water onto burning pantry shelves and flames licking an overhead beam.
Thumps, cracks, and shouts came from throughout the building.
Feeling overwhelmed, Rylana filled and threw pot after pot onto the flames in the pantry.
Fortunately, they’d caught the fire before it had spread into the kitchen, but she could tell from the amount of smoke in the hallway that greater flames had to be burning in the storeroom.
Jildarin roared. He still sounded human—barely.
“The peacekeepers are here!” came Gniknik’s yell from the dining room. It sounded as much a warning as a cry of relief.
“Give them buckets!” Rylana yelled.
Convinced the pantry fire wasn’t in danger of rekindling, Rylana backed out.
She feared the ingredients stored within were all ruined, but she had Rolf’s bag full of ill-gotten coins.
Maybe it would be enough to repurchase groceries.
As far as fixing the fire damage… She had no idea what that would cost but grimaced and wished she’d managed to keep hold of the goblin for the peacekeepers to question.
All she had was the sack of sand or whatever he’d been carrying around with the matches.
Carrying another pot of water in hand, Rylana headed into the hallway and turned toward the storeroom. The smoke was thicker in that direction, and she couldn’t tell if the fire was out. That part of the building wasn’t plumbed with water.
As she drew closer, the air wasn’t as hot as she expected. If anything, a great chill swept through the storeroom, stirring the smoke and raising gooseflesh on her arms. It was as if someone had opened the carriage doors as an arctic storm swept in from the north.
Two gnomish peacekeepers coughing and wiping at their eyes came down the hallway from the dining room to follow her.
“What’s happening here?” one asked.
“A goblin started fires.” Rylana tried to wave smoke away as she entered the storeroom. “If you go outside, you might be able to find him before he gets away.”
Unlikely. The goblin had taken off at top speed when she’d released him, but she worried that the peacekeepers would find a way to blame Jildarin for this, so she wanted to get rid of them. What if he, enraged by the assault on his diner, changed into his dragon form?
Rylana almost ran into not one but two silver-scaled dragons crammed into the storeroom, smoldering crates and burlap sacks of grains knocked to the walls. The icy air she’d felt emanated from the one with darker scales. Was that Zilek?
The dragon beside him was familiar—she recognized Jildarin even before his head swung toward them, emerald eyes locking onto her and the peacekeepers.
Magic emanated from the dragons, but she couldn’t tell what it was doing, only that the flames, already far fewer than she’d imagined, were winking out.
“They’ve changed!” one gnome blurted. “Get the golems. Get—”
“They’re in their lair,” Rylana called over the peacekeepers.
“This isn’t both of their lairs.”
“Yes, it is,” she said. “They’re, uhm, together.” Rylana grabbed one of the gnomes by the arm and pointed toward the carriage doors. They had indeed been thrown open. “Go find the goblin that started the fires. That’s the real crime.”
Jildarin's eyes grew cool as he lowered his head closer to the gnome that had yelled. The peacekeeper may have realized he was in a dragon’s lair, possibly irking said dragon, and that the golems that might have helped him were still out in the street.
“It was a goblin, you say?” he asked, his voice squeaky as Jildarin's maw parted to reveal his fangs.
“In a cloak, yes.” Again, Rylana pointed at the doors.
This time, both gnomes darted around the dragons, finding room where taller beings couldn’t have, and fled into the street out back.
Sylin came up to stand beside Rylana, not appearing alarmed by the two hulking dragons.
Another wave of icy air flowed from the darker silver dragon, and the last of the flames disappeared.
Rylana stared glumly around at the damage.
Crates and barrels had burned, leaving soot on everything, and a strange layer of frost had crystalized over the char.
Only the gnomish ovens remained in good shape, though ash dulled even their magical gleam.
The lighter silver dragon’s form blurred, and Jildarin soon stood in front of Rylana in human form. He glowered at her, ignored Sylin, and also glowered at Zalani, Gniknik, and Rolf, who had gathered in the hallway, peering warily into the storeroom.
“What happened?” Jildarin demanded, his hands clenched into fists, frustration and anger roiling off him. “Who was responsible? I was only gone for a few hours.” He squinted at Rylana, then squinted harder at Rolf.
Rolf stepped behind Zalani.
When Jildarin's cold gaze swung back toward Rylana, she almost blurted that it had all been Rolf’s fault, but his shenanigans hadn’t had anything to do with the fire, other than it had caused the staff to be distracted. Even if he legitimately could be blamed, she had never been one to tattle.
The dark silver dragon shifted into the familiar form of Jildarin's brother, Zilek. He gazed about, appearing more bemused than angry. Of course, it wasn’t his dream that someone had tried to burn down.
“A goblin sneaked in and started a fire,” Rylana said when nobody else answered Jildarin, other than to look guiltily at each other.
“Fires. There was one in the kitchen too. The goblin got away before I could get any information out of him, but I have a suspicion that whoever was behind the other assaults on the diner may have hired him.”
She debated whether to add that she had a suspect, but Jildarin blurted, “The kitchen?” with fresh alarm, his head snapping in that direction. “Why didn’t anyone stop a suspicious goblin from coming inside the diner? And into my kitchen?”
Without waiting for an answer, Jildarin raced into the hallway, the staff parting to get out of his way.
“It was a busy night,” Zalani called after him with a grimace.
Rylana started after Jildarin, but Sylin caught her shoulder.
“Maybe you should let him cool down before following after,” she suggested. “He looks as likely to kill friends as foes right now, and you’re… Well, that look he gave you says he’s more likely to put you in one of those categories than the other.”
A roar of fury came from the kitchen.
“He’s seen the pantry,” Rylana said, debating whether to go and try to explain or to obey Sylin’s suggestion. It seemed cowardly to hide, but…
A thunderous crash came from the kitchen.
“He would be in a less dour mood if he’d mated this evening,” Zilek said blandly.
“I thought you two went hunting,” Rylana said.
“It was a special kind of hunting.” Zilek winked, then waved toward the hallway. “I’m going to the wine conclave before all the best vintages are gone. Tell my brother that he can express his gratitude for my assistance in here later.”
“The dragons that choose to reside in this city are a touch eccentric,” Sylin observed.
“I would think they’d have to be to deign to mingle with our lowly kinds,” Rylana said.