Chapter 6
Before heading to the market, Rylana grabbed a shopping bag and her bow and quiver, tucking the horn inside among the arrows.
She doubted the dwarves would dare search the diner while Jildarin was working in the kitchen, but, just in case, she hadn’t wanted to leave the antique in her desk.
Besides, once he departed on his errand, and only the staff remained, the dwarves might be more brazen.
“Is there a reason you’re taking your weapons on a journey?” came Sylin’s voice from behind as Rylana passed through an intersection.
Rylana jumped in surprise, then grimaced with guilt as she realized she’d forgotten about Sylin’s date. Even though she’d requested that Tezilly keep an eye on her and Zilek, Rylana had meant to check in again and make sure Sylin hadn’t been traumatized by the experience.
“I’m going to the market.” Rylana waved Jildarin’s list in the air as Sylin fell in beside her. “It can be rowdy later in the day.”
“In Tranquility, rowdy usually refers to something like the raised voices of the crotchety old men who play Battle Dragons in the park.”
“It can also refer to market patrons getting pushy and arguing over the last of an ingredient remaining in a vendor’s booth.”
“Both events that would require the swift untying of one’s tranquility ribbons.”
“I’m mostly carrying my quiver because I’ve got that horn inside,” Rylana said, her voice low.
A dwarf and a gnome were walking past. Clad in the pale beige garments preferred by those in the crafters’ guild, they didn’t likely care about stolen antiques, but she was on edge now and eyeing everyone they passed.
“Some women favor purses,” Sylin said.
“Women who weren’t mercenaries.” Rylana summarized her encounter with the two dwarves, then asked about an equally pressing matter. “Did Zilek do anything to offend you and elicit a fork-flesh encounter?”
“No. When he asked if I would like to travel to his lair or a location of my choice to mate, he accepted no for an answer and didn’t press the matter.”
“That’s better behavior than I would have expected from someone who thinks lesser species all exist to serve dragons.”
“It was reasonable, but his incessant garrulousness was tedious. I would have departed earlier, but he started speaking about—no, complaining about—how he is the one who keeps hearing from his family about how disappointing it is that his brother won’t leave Tranquility to mate with fertile female dragons.
He said they seek to lay eggs to hatch future generations.
Apparently, the various clans are feeling an imperative, after suffering losses during the war, to repopulate their species. ”
Rylana had heard the same thing, but… “There couldn’t have been that many losses or there wouldn’t be so many females here, trying to woo Jildarin.”
“That is what prompted me to continue listening and even to speak with Zilek. He said the two sisters that we’ve encountered before approached him and wanted him to involve himself in a plot to kill you and deliver a concoction to one of Jildarin’s dishes that would fill him with the urge to mate.
It was something that contains those dragon spices and also includes an herb that is especially effective on their kind.
” Sylin grimaced. “He gave me more details than I cared to receive, but, by then, he barely seemed to be aware that I was there. It sounded more like he was ranting. He told me that he informed the sisters that he would not participate in deceiving his brother or slaying his business partner. The sisters were furious but not surprised. They told Zilek that his aunt commanded that, if he would not assist in slaying you and helping them win Jildarin’s cooperation, he must at least step aside and let them enact their plan.
For the good of the clan. He was forbidden from warning Jildarin about any of this. ”
“Zilek told you all that?”
“As I said, it was a rant. Though it did occur to me to wonder if he was telling me, knowing I would relay the information to you, and that you would tell Jildarin. He seemed conflicted between loyalty to his brother and loyalty to the rest of his family.”
“I may be starting to like him a little bit,” Rylana admitted.
Sylin spread her palm skyward. “He sounded like he might be slightly disturbed if you were murdered. I admit, I was a little surprised he knew your name.”
“Zilek once mentioned that he appreciates that his brother is in a better mood now that I’m taking care of the tedious side of the diner business and I’ve sold off the gnomish commercial ovens that were prodding Jildarin in the back at night and affecting his sleep.”
“You must be honored to be so highly valued by dragons.”
“By two dragons. The rest…”
“Yes, the rest sound problematic. You may want to keep an eye out for a hired minion drugging Jildarin’s dinner.”
“I will.”
“On a possibly related note,” Sylin said, “someone is following us.”
Trusting Sylin had already gotten a good look, Rylana resisted the urge to spin about and peer behind them.
Besides, it would be hard to see much. Crowds of people were flowing into the market as Rylana and Sylin passed between the two towers that marked the northern entrance, machicolations and arrow slits promising the ancient structures had been used by trolls for defense long before Tranquility had been built.
Ahead of them, the wide aisles between tents, wagons, and permanent booths were also crowded, the popular market remaining open and busy well into the evening.
“Is it a dwarf or a dragon?” Rylana asked.
“A female dwarf.”
“Not Mya running after us with a scone delivery, I trust.”
“No. I don’t recognize this particular female dwarf.” Sylin gave her a sidelong look. “You didn’t order a batch of those scones, did you?”
“I do love alpine strawberries, but no.”
“This dwarf has short blonde hair and is wearing a nondescript brown dockworker’s uniform.
I wouldn’t have been certain she was following us, and not simply going to the market, but she glanced down at something in her hand a couple of times.
It might be a magical tracking device. I’ve seen similar tools before. ”
“You’ve gotten a good look at her and her belongings, considering I haven’t even noticed her yet.” Rylana headed for one of the large booths that sold vinegar and some of the herbs on Jildarin’s list.
“That says more about you than me.”
“That I’m oblivious when enthralled by you relaying the details of your date?”
“The details about female dragons plotting your demise, anyway.”
“The topic of my demise does typically hold my interest.”
When Rylana turned to pluck items off shelves, she spotted the dwarf for the first time.
The blonde-haired female was indeed holding something, but she was too far away for Rylana to make out details, especially with numerous shoppers partially blocking the view.
The dwarf passed their aisle without looking down it.
If Sylin hadn’t mentioned their follower, Rylana wouldn’t have thought anything of her.
“You might want to check your quiver to make sure there’s not a magical tracker in it.” Sylin held her thumb and forefinger up to indicate something coin-sized. “Some devices can lead a person to all magic, but some need to be linked to a tracker that’s placed on the target.”
“Or in one’s quiver?”
“Quite.”
Rylana didn’t question Sylin. She’d also seen such devices employed during the war. One of the wealthier mercenary units had possessed a plethora of magical spy equipment and had engaged in numerous missions of sabotage and espionage.
After setting the ingredients she needed on the counter for a female half-elven merchant to tally, Rylana slung her quiver off her back to look inside.
“If you want to be helpful,” she said, “you could go capture and question the dwarf for me.”
“There’s a pillar twenty feet away and uniformed peacekeepers patrolling the area,” Sylin said.
“It could be a friendly, nonviolent capturing and questioning.”
“Those being so effective. Haven’t I done enough favors for you today? I dated your dragon’s self-absorbed brother and brought you a warning.”
“You have been a good friend.”
“Seven silver for everything, ma’am,” the merchant said, not commenting on what was probably an atypical conversation. Her eyebrows had twitched at the mention of self-absorbed dragons.
“Thank you.”
After Rylana exchanged her coins for the goods, she tilted her quiver upside-down.
With a tranquility ribbon threaded around it and the fletchings of the arrows, they didn’t fall out, but the horn shifted inside.
She pulled it out and also shook the quiver, in case someone had managed to slip a tracker inside.
Nothing fell out, and she didn’t hear anything rattling around.
Gasps and a warning shout from people around them made her pause. An orc vendor pointed toward the sky.
Someone yelled, “To the pillar for safety!”
Sylin sighed. “That dragon is familiar.”
Rylana spotted the winged creature soaring high over the city, high enough that the pillar hadn’t started booming out its alarm gongs.
Its black scales catching the setting sun, it flapped its wings easily, soaring lazily about like a great raptor sated from a recent meal and not looking for anything in particular.
But it circled the area, so Rylana had little doubt it was looking for something. Someone.
“One of the sisters,” she guessed, though the dragon was so high that she couldn’t pick out eye color or much in the way of defining attributes aside from its dark hue.
“Foxvonla,” Sylin said. “The one I tangled up in a net on the beach at Lucky Island. I got close enough for her magical aura to imprint itself on me.”
“She’s probably as pissed with you after that as with me. I suppose it would be wrong for me to hope she’s here because she wants to slay you.”
“I’m not the one keeping her from mating with her desired male.”