Chapter 8
The next morning found Rylana bent over the desk in the diner’s office, not recording numbers but perusing a map that Sylin had brought by.
Even though Rylana hadn’t requested it, her comrade had gone to the university library before dawn and acquired it.
After she’d dropped it off, Rylana had given Sylin a heaping plate of food from the kitchen, telling her she was a good friend and forgiving her for calling Vormalt her former lover in front of Jildarin.
Sylin had taken the breakfast, saluted her, and gone to fill her gnomish vacuum flask at the coffee shop.
“Looks like about ten historically significant sites with ruins within twenty miles of Tranquility,” Rylana murmured to herself, circling them with her finger.
“A couple are right on the banks of the north shore of the lake, but those are visited so frequently that the gnomes have turned them into parks. I doubt Vormalt would think places with children swinging from tree branches worthy of study.”
Would he consider any of them worthy? Such nearby ruins had to have already been studied thoroughly over the centuries by the scholars of Tranquility.
Rylana reminded herself that just because Vormalt’s wife believed he’d been visiting ruins this week didn’t mean that he was. Unfortunately, she didn’t have any other leads. She lamented that he’d gotten away before she’d been able to question him.
“There are only three with names derived from the Troll language,” she mused, placing markers on those destinations on the map. “If he were at ruins, they’d probably be ones having to do with trolls, right?”
Jildarin walked into the office, and Rylana rose, thinking he would expect her to join the staff in serving the morning meal. But he was carrying a plate with two butter-and-jam smeared biscuits and a small pile of—
“Is that the coffee-rubbed bacon?” Rylana asked, as the delicious aroma drifted to her nostrils. She’d spotted some out on the counter when she’d passed through the kitchen with Sylin, but he hadn’t yet been cooking it then.
“It is.”
“Oh, Jildarin.” Rylana snatched a piece from the plate and clasped a hand to her heart as she chewed. “Maybe I do desire you.”
He blinked. “Because of the bacon?”
“Yes. And because you brought some to me. And it’s so good.” Eyes closing, she enjoyed another bite.
“Interesting. Perhaps I should suggest this methodology to Zilek for the elven ballerina he seeks to woo.”
“Most elves are vegetarians, right? He would have to rub coffee on a mushroom.”
“Coffee and mushrooms?” Jildarin touched a finger to his chin and gazed thoughtfully at the ceiling. “Perhaps employed in a pan-searing with butter and chopped hazelnuts, that could be an appealing dish to the elven palate.”
Rylana opened her mouth to say she’d been joking, but he looked serious. “You’re welcome. I’ll always be here for you if you want help brainstorming ideas.”
His gaze lowered to her, his eyelids drooping, and a little zing swept through her. Bedroom eyes, she thought, even though she knew he didn’t mean for his look to be sultry. He was doubtless imagining coffee-rubbed mushrooms simmering in butter, not her naked in his bed—in his storeroom lair.
“Excellent,” he said. “I will explore the mushroom idea as soon as there’s time. Were I to employ rare and high-quality mushrooms, such a dish might even be suitable for the elven queen, should she deign to visit my fine establishment.”
“She would be a fool not to.”
“Indeed.” Jildarin inclined his head toward her, then turned toward the hallway.
“I don’t suppose you’d like to show your gratitude for my assistance by turning into a dragon and flying me to a bunch of ruins around the area?
” Rylana didn’t expect him to say yes, but it was worth a try.
If she had to go on horseback, it would take two days at least. Further, the time she’d ridden on his back to meet with those two sisters…
the short journey had been glorious and exhilarating.
If she had the ability to fly, she would never want to change into a species with only legs.
“You seek to solve the curse?” Jildarin asked, though they had no proof that there was a curse. Only a few strange things that they’d observed in the vicinity.
Rylana nodded. “I’m hoping to find Vormalt. I think he’s behind the trouble.”
She waved in the direction of the lake—and also that stormwater drain.
On the way back to the diner the night before, Rylana had told Jildarin about the incident under the castle.
He’d agreed that doing anything to upset the old gods was unwise and that it could have a negative impact on people in the area.
“And, actually,” she added, glancing at the map, “we might only need to visit three sites. The ones where trolls lived. The others on the map belonged to ogre and goblin civilizations.”
“In the time before humans moved north, their kind proliferated in this area. The dwarves and elves stuck to the mountains.”
“The troll sites are here, here, and here,” Rylana said, showing him the spots on the map. If dragons really could fly a thousand miles in a day, it wouldn’t take long to check them if he took her.
“Visitors to the diner have been fewer today, I believe due to rumors of a curse now filling the city.”
“That could be. This morning’s newspaper mentioned the inexplicable darkness of the lake, and Mya came over earlier to borrow spices that supposedly help ward off curses. Her clientele has grown superstitious, it seems.”
Jildarin had been in the kitchen when Rylana had taken the dwarf baker back to the pantry, but he’d been whisking eggs while stirring a balsamic reduction on a burner, and he hadn’t seemed to notice either of them.
“Yes, cumin and cloves are believed, by some of the intelligent—semi-intelligent—species, to provide protection, repel negativity, and cleanse the souls of the affected.”
“She’s putting them in muffins and has a line of customers out the door.”
Jildarin gazed toward the dining room window. “Perhaps I should have thought to adjust a few dishes.”
“Your coffee bacon repels negativity just fine. Trust me.” Rylana ate another piece. It would, after all, be a shame to let it get cold. “The biscuits aren’t bad either.” She slid a buttery jam-slathered morsel into her mouth and sighed with contentment.
“I am pleased when you enjoy and compliment my food.”
“Pleased enough to want to fly me to three troll ruin sites?”
“Since the patronage is, as I said, diminished, perhaps I could leave the kitchen for long enough to do so. It would behoove us all to resolve this issue as soon as possible.”
The issue of a curse or of diminished patronage? Rylana supposed they were related.
“Excellent.” Taking the last biscuit and piece of bacon with her, Rylana headed for the storeroom. “I’ll get my weapons in case we run into trouble while we’re out of the city.”
“What trouble do you think we will encounter that will disturb a dragon?”
“Didn’t your brother say that your mother could show up at any time?”
“Bring extra arrows.”