Chapter 18
When Rylana walked out of the bakery and headed for the diner, few clouds remained in the night sky, leaving stars and a full moon illuminating the damp cobblestones. She yawned again, then took a breath of the fresh air, wondering if Jildarin had returned yet from his excursion.
Halfway across the street, she paused, her instincts itching, an unsettled feeling coming over her. Even before movement drew her eye toward an alley, she knew someone was watching her.
Two cloaked figures glided out of the shadows. Rylana drew her utility knife.
One figure pushed back a hood, revealing pointed ears. As the moonlight gleamed silver in his intent eyes, the elves glided forward with determination. A second pair of cloaked figures, these with drawn bows in their hands, stepped out of the alley near the diner.
“Two hells,” Rylana muttered, looking down at her small blade.
The first two elves drew short swords.
“Where are your tranquility knots?” she asked. “They’re a trendy part of living in this city, you know.”
“We have an exemption,” the lone unhooded elf said.
“That exemption only applies when you’re in your enclave, right?”
Rylana sprang for the front door of the diner, hoping Jildarin was inside. But when she grabbed the knob, it flared with magic and buzzed painfully. She clenched her jaw and tried to turn it anyway, certain she hadn’t locked the door on her way out, but it didn’t budge.
“Jildarin?” she called.
“Your dragon master is not in his lair,” a female voice spoke—one of the hooded archers.
“He’ll be back soon, and he’s not my master. We’re business partners. Equals. I keep the books, and he cooks.” Knife still in hand, Rylana put her back to the door.
If the elves attacked, the pillar in the nearby intersection would go off, sending gongs that the peacekeepers would hear.
That should have been comforting, but Rylana didn’t doubt that these four trained warriors could kill her before the gnomes arrived.
And if the elves had exemptions in some matters, they might have exemptions in others.
Maybe they wouldn’t be punished for breaking the law.
Not that she would care much about that if she were dead.
“Equals,” the female elf said with a laugh. “A human and a dragon? Even elves do not consider themselves the equals of dragons.”
“Not physically or with magic perhaps,” one of her male comrades said, “but in other ways, we are equal. Or superior.”
Rylana recognized that one’s voice. He and his buddy had once tried to take her to the enclave for questioning.
“As enjoyable as it is to chitchat with pompous elves,” she said, “I’m not interested in going anywhere with you tonight. Unlock my door, will you? It’s past my bedtime.”
“You needn’t go anywhere,” the female said softly. “We believe the one whom we seek is nearby.” She looked toward the coffee shop.
Rylana pointedly did not look at the attic of the bakery. She was torn between wanting Sylin to come out and help her, since these elves looked like they intended to attack, and hoping her friend disappeared, the way she usually did, so the pointy-eared miscreants wouldn’t find her.
“There’s nobody nearby anymore.” Rylana crouched when one of the sword-wielding elves strode toward her.
“You lie. When we hurt you, she’ll show up. We believe she’s loyal, even if she’s a criminal and a despicable elf murderer. She’s appeared where you’ve been before and helped you.”
Rylana kept her back to the door for protection but pointed her knife toward the sword wielder. Her heart hammered in her chest, and memories of battles in the southern jungles came to mind. Those memories were so intense that she broke out in a sweat, as if she were back in the humid heat now.
“She’s not interested in going to the enclave for questioning either,” Rylana said, her mouth gone dry.
A crunch-clink sound came from the intersection, and another cloaked figure stepped out from behind the pillar there. Another elf? He or she was carrying a toolbox instead of a weapon, and Rylana’s heart sank. Did the elves know how to sabotage the pillars so they wouldn’t alarm?
“Questioning isn’t what we have in mind,” the female said. “We won’t allow Queen Fareesa to drag in a murdering brat and try to make her the heir. It’s time for another family to control the scepter.”
“A family full of people who do noble work for the good of our kind,” a sword wielder said, “not an assassin who’s preyed on her own people.”
“The very idea that she could be considered is preposterous,” another male said.
Rylana reached back and tried the doorknob again. “I thought you guys were looking for Sylin because you thought she would assassinate the queen, not because she might mess up your succession plans.”
“She might very well intend to assassinate Fareesa,” the sword wielder said. “We just didn’t know until recently that she might also plan to try to step into the queen’s role.”
“Goblins’ greed, can you imagine if she tried that?” the female asked. “After killing the queen?”
“That’s not going to happen,” the sword wielder said coolly, raising his sword and stepping toward Rylana.
She thought he would grab her, but he thrust for her cheek with his blade. Though startled, Rylana swept her knife up quickly enough to deflect the strike. Thank the gods for the moonlight that provided enough illumination to see.
But one of the other elves rushed in from the side to try to grab Rylana.
She twisted and kicked toward his midsection as she used her knife to parry two more sword swipes for her face.
Her target dodged her kick and grabbed for her leg.
Just in time, Rylana yanked it down before the elf grasped it, but the whole group swarmed in, and she couldn’t defend herself against so many.
She glimpsed movement in the attic window. Sylin had opened the shutter and climbed onto the sill, prepared to spring down.
“Stop and release her,” a familiar male voice called.
At the intersection, Captain Tassani came into view and strode toward the group.
Sylin froze in the window, then eased back from the sill. She’d put the lanterns out, so she disappeared into the shadows.
“We know our target is near, Captain,” one of Rylana’s assailants said.
“Then search for her. The human hasn’t done anything to you.”
“The human is her friend. And she fought our kind in the war.”
“Not without honor,” Tassani said, his eyes cold as he strode closer. “Mista and Sorinlar, you’re not supposed to be on duty tonight. What are you doing here?”
“Ensuring that a savage murdering assassin doesn’t end up named as the queen’s heir.”
“That won’t happen.” Tassani pushed between the archers, stood beside Rylana, and held his hand up toward his troops.
Or were they his troops? Those two had to be, since he knew their names, but what of the others? Rylana had no idea if all these elves were from the enclave or if the Shaldona family had sent them along to ensure the queen didn’t reunite with Sylin.
“Need I remind you that weapons aren’t allowed to be bared in Tranquility?” Tassani asked his people. “Nor is violence permitted. What were you going to do? Kill this human?”
“Not kill her, no.” The one who’d slashed at Rylana stepped back, but he didn’t yet sheathe his blade.
The archers also hadn’t put away their bows or removed their nocked arrows.
The way they exchanged long looks with each other made Rylana wonder if she was still in danger.
Would they disobey the captain to finish what they’d started?
“Just hurt her so she cries out and draws the assassin.”
“How perfectly savage,” Tassani murmured, then faced Rylana, keeping his hand up to stay his people.
He didn’t seem that worried about the nocked arrows, but he also didn’t fully put his back to the elves as he offered a partial bow to her.
“Sergeant Falcon—Rylana—I must formally apologize on behalf of the elven enclave and my troops. This behavior is not sanctioned.”
One of the archers stirred, pointing her bow fully at Rylana.
She tensed, prepared to spring aside. But as Tassani reached for his own weapon, a sword belted at his waist, the archer and other elves looked in the direction opposite the pillar intersection.
From farther up Acorn Street, the clatter of wooden wheels and horseshoes on cobblestones reached Rylana’s ears.
“The dragon approaches,” one of the elves whispered.
Shortly after, a dwarf-driven, horse-drawn wagon came into view, a tarp covering a large load in the back. Jildarin strode along beside it.
Even before the elves backed away from her, Rylana let out a sigh of relief and slumped against the door. She hadn’t been certain they would stop for Tassani, but they wouldn’t attack her in front of a dragon’s lair. Not when that dragon was looking right at them. And scowling.
Jildarin picked up his pace to stride ahead of the wagon. “What is going on here?”
“Disobedience,” Rylana said. “Some beings think they’re above Tranquility’s laws about peace.”
She looked toward the pillar, but the elf who’d sabotaged it had disappeared.
“I am less concerned about disobedience toward gnomish laws than I am about the business partner of a dragon being threatened.” Jildarin stepped between Tassani and Rylana, the elf captain easing aside just before Jildarin would have shouldered him out of the way.
Jildarin glared at the surrounding elves, though they’d wisely backed away, sheathing their swords and returning their arrows to their quivers.
“Threatened in front of the dragon’s lair.
Do they no longer teach elves to be wise in the face of superior predators? ”
“It was a foolish decision,” one of the male elves said, though the female had crossed her arms over her chest in a defiant stance. The male bowed to Jildarin. “We apologize, Lord Dragon. You honor us with your forgiveness in this matter.”
“You are honored,” Jildarin said. “And you will assist me with a small matter to apologize with more than words for your transgression.”