Chapter 22
“You should hide, Rylana.” As the peacekeepers and barking hounds drew closer, foliage rustling with their passing, Jildarin pointed toward the trees on the far side of a nearby path. “Since humans lack innate magic, they won’t be able to sense you.”
Rylana bit her lip, tempted, but she didn’t want to leave Jildarin to explain his presence. Having his mother and aunt flying around, setting off alarms, might lead the peacekeepers to be suspicious of dragons at the moment.
“No. I’ll stick with you. Besides.” Rylana rose to her feet. “We can’t let Vormalt blow up that temple.”
Bracing herself, she spread her arms and walked toward the mayor, high priest, and Vormalt. Jildarin didn’t hesitate to follow after her. A hound bayed, its deep voice thundering through the trees.
“Mayor Sedgewick?” Rylana called, though the two gnomes and Vormalt had already spotted them and were staring at her.
“You’ll want to search and detain Lord Vormalt.
” She looked at him as he clenched a fist and scowled at her.
“He’s planted what I believe are explosives around the new-god temple, and he’s got what might be an activator wand in his bag to detonate them. ”
Vormalt opened his mouth, looking like he wanted to deny the statement but didn’t know what to say.
“If you want the curse lifted, Mayor Sedgewick,” he settled on, “you’ll search and detain them, not me.”
“I’ve nothing to hide.” Rylana spread her arms farther as the lieutenant, another peacekeeper, and one of the canine handlers with his hound jogged into view. Though its vest said “log inspector,” the copper-furred dog pointed its snout toward Jildarin and barked.
“Really,” he murmured.
“Is that the dragon chef?” the peacekeeper asked.
“We will detain all of you.” Sedgewick waved for the lieutenant to handle that. “Everyone out on Lucky Island in the middle of the night while the city is cursed is suspect.”
“You will attempt to detain a dragon?” Jildarin’s voice promising that would be unwise.
The hound barked at him.
He growled at the hound.
It tucked its tail between its legs and slunk behind its gnome handler.
“Should you wish to retain your diner and the right to work and live in Tranquility, you will come with us, Lord Dragon,” the lieutenant said.
When Jildarin glared at him, the gnome hurried to add, “We will question everyone and determine if any laws have been broken. If you and your lady friend are innocent, you’ll be released promptly. ”
“Search Vormalt’s bag before you detain any of us,” Rylana said. “You don’t want to lose your temple.”
Eyebrows rising, the high priest looked at the structure with concern.
“There are buried explosives next to two of the walls,” Rylana added. “I’m sure you can find the spots he dug up recently.”
“What are you doing out here in the middle of the night, Rylana?” Vormalt whispered harshly.
“Fern frolicking.”
“Are you going out of your way to thwart all my plans?” He was still whispering, the gnomes distracted by their consideration of the temple, though they hadn’t yet run over to search for explosives. Maybe they worried about detonating them and blowing themselves up. Understandable.
“You did break into my father’s castle and tear up the library floor.
” Rylana didn’t keep her voice down. The gnomes ought to have plenty of reasons to believe Vormalt far more of a criminal than she, but she would add to that opinion if possible.
There was no reason she and Jildarin should be detained, however briefly.
They were out here trying to help. Too bad that peacekeeper captain that Sylin had befriended and was working for wasn’t among the troops present.
One of the black dragons flew between Lucky Island and the western shoreline, low enough that her wingbeats were audible in the still night.
One amber eye watched them. Rylana, deciding that being meek wouldn’t work with Jildarin’s relatives, lifted a hand and waved cheerfully at her.
In the dark, it was hard to tell, but she thought smoke wafted from the dragon’s nostrils.
“Isn’t the pillar supposed to defend against that?” Sedgewick watched their scaled visitor with anything but cheer.
“It will if he flies close enough to the island to be considered on—over—land within the borders of Tranquility,” the lieutenant said.
“She,” Jildarin said. “That is Jixana-grozanarav of Clan Killcrusher.”
“Killcrusher, Chef?” asked the gnome who’d recognized him. “Isn’t that your clan?”
“Yes.”
“Is that a relative?”
One could say that…
“Some members of the clan object to my current occupation and interest in serving lesser species,” was all Jildarin said.
Rylana believed his mother’s objection was more about her than Jildarin’s career as a chef but didn’t feel the need to explain that to the gnomes.
Besides, Jixana hadn’t seemed delighted by his culinary interests either.
It bemused Rylana a bit that Jildarin also understood the pressure and displeasure of parents who didn’t agree with their offsprings’ choices in life.
“Let’s take everyone back to peacekeeper headquarters,” Sedgewick said. “In case that dragon decides to test the potency of the pillar, I would prefer not to be in the area. High priest, do you want to stay behind and look to see if there are explosives buried?”
The high priest was staring at the dragon and shifting from side to side. “Stay behind?” He touched his chest. “I’m sure your lieutenant can assign a couple of people to check. The hounds are trained to find magical devices, aren’t they?”
“Not explosives,” the handler said, hugging his dog close. “I don’t want Buster to be hurt.”
“Then you look for them,” the high priest said. “But don’t disturb the idols. Or the friezes. Or the shrine. We don’t need the new god irked along with the troll gods.”
“Very well.” Sedgewick sounded unimpressed by the high priest’s bravery but gestured for the peacekeepers to handle the situation.
“Your bag, please, my lord.” The lieutenant bowed politely to Vormalt but held out his hand.
“You don’t have any right to search my belongings.” Vormalt clutched it close while looking darkly at Rylana.
“If you aren’t able to answer questions sufficiently at our headquarters, we will place you in holding until an arbiter can speak with you. You’ll be separated from your belongings then.”
Vormalt’s eyes narrowed. “At which point you still won’t have a right to search them.”
“No, but things fall off the table and spill out all the time. The golems, you see. They’re always knocking into the furniture when they’re in tight spaces. Of course, you can avoid such accidents by allowing a search now.”
Vormalt used his hand to seal the flap of his bag shut, then strode toward the road.
Jildarin looked at Rylana. “I am less constrained by the peacekeeper laws. I can take his belongings and search them now.”
Rylana was tempted to accept the offer, but she worried that Vormalt would, if the issue was forced, detonate the explosives.
“Let’s give the peacekeepers time to search for and remove those orbs.
” She tilted her head toward the uniformed gnomes who were being left behind, though they were watching the black dragon sail back and forth over the lake rather than looking at the temple.
“Besides, the lieutenant is a little suspicious of us at the moment. It wouldn’t be a good idea to be… recalcitrant.”
“Most of the lesser species would consider dragons recalcitrant.”
“It’s good for them that you’re a calm, cultured, and amenable dragon.” Rylana smiled and patted his arm.
“Hm.”
Jixana, with her keen eyes, must have seen the touch from across the lake because she roared. Rylana lowered her hand.
“This way, please,” the lieutenant said, waving for the group to head to the boardwalk.
Rylana hoped she wouldn’t truly end up detained.
She was tired, still needed to change into dry clothes, and wanted a nap—at least until Mya came into the bakery in the morning.
She hoped the gnomes being left behind at the temple would find the orbs and could disarm them or toss them into the lake so that even if Vormalt could blow them up remotely with his wand, they wouldn’t do any damage.
But, as she observed the gnomes take cover behind the pillar while watching the dragon, she worried they would be too inhibited by Jixana’s presence to dig.
“She’ll leave the area once we’re gone, right?” Rylana asked as they walked across the island and the boardwalk came into view.
“One would think she wouldn’t have a reason to remain,” Jildarin said, “but she’s not responding to my attempts to communicate telepathically at the moment.”
“What did she say earlier? When she was distracting you so your aunt could try to roast me?”
“She came with a warning. She said it would behoove me to leave Tranquility because the priest in our clan warned her that he could sense from afar that the troll gods are agitated. Even dragons, as powerful as we are, do not intentionally cross deities. She believes the effects of the curse could grow stronger and that my brother and I may be in danger if we remain in the city.”
“Does she really believe that?” Rylana had a hard time imagining a curse powerful enough to threaten a dragon.
She also struggled to envision Jixana being caring and maternal enough to fly all the way up here to warn her son.
Maybe that was an unfair thought. Dragons did look out for each other and were loyal to their clan.
During the war, she’d seen them put themselves in danger to help others of their kind.
“I ask,” she added when Jildarin looked curiously at her, “because I wondered if she was colluding with your aunt, distracting you so she could sneak over to the lake and attempt to kill me.”
“Ah. I believe Lysilria is acting independent of my mother and of her own accord when I’m out of the area.”