“The species must be perpetuated, my brother.”
“My essence isn’t for sale.”
They fell silent again as another breeze riffled through Rylana's hair. With a start, she realized that breeze might carry her scent to the dragons. She stepped away from the entrance, intending to hurry back to the coffee shop, but one of the doors flew open and banged on the side of the building. She snatched the sign off the wall as the two brothers stepped into the doorway, both scowling at her.
“Were you spying upon dragons, human?” Zilek asked, his amber eyes flaring with indignation.
“No.” Rylana waved the sign in front of her, as if it were a shield that might protect her. “I’m here about the job.”
“This is my enemy, the female archer who shot me.” Jildarin looked at his brother as he thrust an accusing finger at Rylana.
“Oh, really?” Zilek’s indignation faded as he looked her up and down, and was that a hint of a smirk on his lips? “She’s scarcely five-and-a-half feet tall, and rather normal-ish in appearance. Her bow can’t bethathuge.”
“I never said it was,” Jildarin said.
“The story you told after you were wounded suggested an ogre-sized female with arms like tree trunks launched arrows with such power that they might have been blown from a cannon.”
“My aim is excellent,” Rylana said, worried that Jildarin's darkening scowl would lead to her being attacked again, perhaps in a more calculated manner that wouldn’t bring the peacekeepers. Even in human form, dragons had great strength. Maybe Jildarin would throw one of the oversupplied ovens and crush her. “But I’m an equally good bookkeeper. That’s why I’m an ideal candidate for you to hire. My handwriting is also excellent.Iwouldn’t fail to order an accurate number of kitchen supplies and equipment for you.”
“Youwerespying.” Jildarin lifted an arm, starting to surge forward.
Rylana leaped back, but his brother also caught him from behind, keeping him from reaching her.
“Don’t slay her,” Zilek said. “You may need her.”
“Needan archer who enjoysshootingdragons? Who would needthat?”
“Someone with ten gnomish commercial ovens crowding his cave,” Zilek said blandly.
Jildarin turned his scathing scowl on his brother. Unintimidated and still smirking,hedidn’t leap back.
“Earlier, you didn’t let me explain my qualifications,” Rylana said. “I grew up here in Tranquility—across the lake actually—and, despite eventually becoming a mercenary, I had a formaleducation. I can perform basic and advanced mathematics and have real-world experience from keeping the books for the Moon Daggers for almost ten years. I never accidentally ordered extra ovens or anything else, and I am sure I can help you with inventory as well as running your business. By my calculations, youneedhelp.”
“Look, she wants to serve you.” Zilek thumped Jildarin on the chest with the back of his hand. “That’s how it’ssupposedto work. Humans serve dragons instead of the other way around.”
“I’m seeking employment, not to be a servant,” Rylana said calmly, though she was developing a distaste for the brother. Too bad she hadn’t had an opportunity to shoothim.
“Of course, dear human.” Zilek smiled condescendingly at her.
“It’s Rylana. Rylana Avandar.”
“It was SergeantFalconduring the war, wasn’t it?” Jildarin asked, eyes slitted as he regarded her.
“It was. I’m impressed that you learned my name. I was third in command of the Moon Daggers, and our unit merely worked for the joint kingdoms, so I wasn’t an important player in the grand scheme of things.”
Jildarin's eyes slitted further. “When we captured and interrogated one of your spies, Iaskedwho the archer was who shot me.”
Unease crept into Rylana at the reminder of the many dark atrocities that had taken place during the war and that yet haunted her nightmares. She had little doubt that the spy he spoke of hadn’t survived that interrogation.
Refusing to appear weak or cowed before the dragons, Rylana lifted her chin. “That was wise. One should know the names of one’s enemies.”
“Thus to more easily identify them when they show up in your place of business as part of a plot to finish what they started a year earlier,” Jildarin said. “Do you think it’s not blatantly obvious why you’re here?”
“We’ve established that it’s not your wit that drew her.” Zilek appeared far less offended by Rylana's appearance—and spying—than his brother. Probably because she hadn’t shothim.
“Believe it or not,” Rylana said, keeping her focus on Jildarin, “I didn’t know that you were in the city or had anything to do with this diner until I saw you inside. I haven’t been looking for you. The war is over, and dragons haven’t been in my thoughts at all.” Aside from the nightmares she’d just been thinking about. They’d grown less frequent these last couple of months, but they still reared up, causing her to wake with her heart pounding and sweat plastering her nightshirt to her body. If she actually succeeded in getting this job, would working alongside a dragon cause the bad dreams to grow more frequent again?
Maybe Sylin had been right. Maybe this was a bad idea.
