“It ismylife that the lesser species enjoy plotting against.”
Rylana almost pointed out that Yerin hadn’t been trying to kill him, just get him kicked out of the city—and the Golden Whisk competition—but she recalled his story of an orc spice seller attempting to poison him.
“Sylin, are there any rewards out for the death of Jildarin?” Rylana asked.
“None that I’m aware of.” Sylin led them across the waterfront street and toward the boardwalk from which many docks extended.
“You’re safe,” Rylana told Jildarin. “Sylin only kills people for coin.”
“How strange that her kind desire her demise,” he said.
“I think so.”
“Even if coin were offered for Jildarin’s death,” Sylin said, stopping at the railing beside a bench that overlooked the lake, “I wouldn’t attempt to assassinate someone who makes fabulous coffee-rubbed bacon.”
“Itwouldbe a crime to remove the maker of that from the world,” Rylana said.
“Undoubtedly. Your butler is less safe.”
“Zames is myfather’sbutler, and you can’t assassinate someone responsible for feeding hounds. It’s against the rules.”
“Noted.” Sylin extended her hand toward the lake.
Were they supposed to look at… the water? That was what Sylin wanted them to see?
Jildarin was the one to notice and observe, “Luminous Lake is not luminous tonight.”
“Oh.” Rylana gripped the rail, almost rocked by the realization. Unlike the night before, when the plankton had been especially bright as they swirled about making those patterns, the water was completely dark. “That’s odd.”
“So I assumed,” Sylin said.
“I’d suggest seasonal variation again,” Rylana said, “but I’ve never seen the lake completely dark.”
Almost expecting the blue glow to have returned, Rylana looked toward Avandar Castle. Its outline was dark against the night sky, no hint of the previous evening’s magic emanating from it. Even so, Rylana had a sinking feeling that whatever Vormalt had done was having ramifications beyond her father’s property.
“Perhaps the same curse that the ogre believes is now in existence is affecting the life in the lake,” Jildarin said.
“Do you think that’s possible?” Rylana asked. “I know a lot of ogres are superstitious, but do dragons believe in curses?”
“There are many kinds of magic in the world. We do not dismiss them.”
“I need to find Vormalt.” During the busy day, Rylana had forgotten about him and her intention to report his illegal behavior to peacekeeper headquarters. “Whatever he did under the castle, it may have something to do with this.”
“Have you learned where he is yet?” Sylin asked.
“Nothing more than what his wife said this morning, that he’s been working at archeological ruins, but I’m not sure she had a clue.”
“It might be worth visiting the ones within a day’s travel of the city.” Sylin shrugged.
“There are many, many ruins within a thousand miles of Tranquility,” Jildarin said.
“A thousand—” Sylin looked at him. “I didn’t mean within the distance adragoncan fly in a day. I presume Rylana’s former lover doesn’t have access to one of those.”
“I’m sure he doesn’t,” Rylana said. “Maybe we can get a map of ruins in the area—like a twenty-mile radius—from a bookshop. Or the university.”
“Former lover?” Jildarin asked, sounding confused.
“Vormalt proposed to me when I was younger,” Rylana saidwhile making a why-did-you-say-that hand gesture at Sylin. “But we’re not close anymore. We weren’t even that closethen. I was briefly flattered by the interest of a handsome older man, but I was naive and hadn’t gotten to know him that well yet.”
