Once more, he stood as a man, his short silver hair now tousled and his clothing rucked and wrinkled. He plucked at the netting, grimacing as it sizzled and probably zapped him the way the ribbon had Rylana, but he focused on removing it instead of looking at the golems and gnomes that had encircled him. The golems were expressionless, as always, mere automatons doing their duties, but the gnomes looked sternly at the dragon, and one stepped forward to address him.
Rylana thought about slipping away, especially since the peacekeepers might take issue with her having thrown a knife, but she risked creeping forward. Maybe she could retrieve the blade from the cobblestones where it had landed before anyone noticed it.
“Jildarin-grozanarav,” the head gnome said.
Was that the dragon’s name? Even though Rylana had battledhim, she’d never known it. It did sound familiar, like he might have been one of the generals or clan leaders during the war. Such important beings had been mentioned in the orders and reports that had come down from the kingdom militaries. What in either hell was he now doing here in Tranquility running adiner?
“I am Patrol Captain Dindarik, and you are in violation of Tranquility law. You’ve changed into your dangerous native form outside of your lair, something that is expressly forbidden. Have any been injured or slain?” The gnome peered into the alley and also toward the storefronts and wagons, one of which was in flames. “I see that goods have been damaged. At the least, there will be a fine.”
The dragon—Jildarin—sighed and looked at Rylana, curling a lip when she picked up her knife. Sylin appeared, stepping past a couple of gnomes to peer into the alley. Her wooden case of daggers was in hand, but she must have seen the peacekeepers and golems approaching, because she hadn’t tried to break the tranquility ribbon tying it closed.
Rylana waved that she was all right.
The patrol captain pulled a mechanical device out of a pocket and started tapping on a button. It glowed with his touches and whirred softly. As the dragon finished extricating himself from the netting, a paper spat out from a slot in the top of the device.
“This is an official warning. Should you change into your dragon form again on public streets, youwillbe forced to leave the city. At the bottom, you will see a fine listed for your infraction. You may pay it at Peacekeeper Headquarters. The address is listed at the bottom.” Captain Dindarik handed the paper to the dragon, who accepted it with another lip curl, but, after looking at his diner again, he didn’t object.
Maybe it was strange, since the dragon had tried to kill her scant moments earlier, but Rylana felt a twinge of sympathytoward him. After all, he was only being fined because he’d reacted strongly toherarrival.
“As you were warned when you entered the city,” the patrol captain added, “such behavior isnottolerated within Tranquility’s borders or near Luminous Lake’s shorelines. Should you wish to hunt in your native form, you must first leave the city.” Dindarik looked at Rylana to address her. “Given the nature of the incident, and your obvious need to defend yourself, you will not be warned or fined at this time for hurling a blade with the intent to harm.”
Rylana had already sheathed the knife and lifted her open hands, resisting the urge to say something snarky. Sylin had disappeared from view again. Had the peacekeepers frowned at her for pulling out her knife case?
When the golems and their gnome handlers departed, the gong noises finally fading, Jildarin glared at her. Rylana tensed. She didn’tthinkhe would attack again, probably more because he didn’t want to lose his diner than because he cared about fines—though hedidglare down at the paper, the tendons of his hands taut, as if he was tempted to ball it up and throw it away. Instead, he smoothed it, folded it once, and tucked it into a pocket. He also smoothed his clothes as he resumed glaring at Rylana.
“What do you want, foul enemy? To attempt to slay me again? The gnomes will not permit that, any more than they will allow me to kill you. Regretfully.”
“My name is Rylana, and I came to apply for the position of bookkeeper at the Dragon Diner.”
As he stared at her, his jaw slack with disbelief, Sylin appeared again, stepping into the alley to stand at Rylana's shoulder. The support would have meant more if Sylin hadn’t been holding a paper cup with coffee inside, as if she’d wandered off in the middle of the chaos to place an order.
“You arenothired,” Jildarin stated and walked out of view and back toward his diner.
“Are you sure working for your father isn’t an option?” Sylin sipped from her cup.
“Yes.” Rylana raised her eyebrows as Sylin smacked her lips in some assessment of the brew.
“Now that he’s changed back into a man, a lot of people have flowed out into the street to watch,” Sylin said. “The coffee shop owners and the bakery dwarf are taking this opportunity to hand out free samples. This is surprisingly good, all things considered.”
“All things considered? Did you think the presence of a dragon or me nearly being incinerated would affect the flavor?”
“No, but I didn’t expect a quality beverage to be foisted on me by a street peddler.”
“Was it foisted on you, or did you rush over to get it as soon as you smelled coffee? I’ll bet you were first in line for that sample.”
“I was second in line,” Sylin said, sipping again, “behind the fast-moving goblins who’d just exited the bakery with a cake box, a hole snipped out on the top so that a rather erect and large…zergstick could protrude. You’re fortunate that dragon isn’t interested in hiring you. I can’t imagine the indignity of working at an establishment where the food has strange aphrodisiacal qualities that prompt the libidinous diners to order pornographic cakes from the bakery across the street.”
“I don’t think anatomically-shaped baked goods quite qualify as pornography.”
“You didn’t see the size of thezergstick. It looked like it was inspired by an ogre, not a goblin.”
“How do you know it wasn’t?”
Sylin took another sip as they returned to the street. “It was green.”
“For someone who isn’t usually interested in such things, you got a good look.”
“Shall I remind you of my profession? It behooves me to constantly remain alert and monitor my surroundings.”
