“Maybe it knows his mom was coming and isn’t pleased.”
Rylana untied the tranquility knots so she could use her weapons if needed. All the while, she eyed the sky, worried that Jildarin hadn’t succeeded in intercepting the aunt, that she and his mother were about to fly into view. But for the moment, the sky remained clear, a soft breeze rustling the branches.
She considered checking inside the tunnel, but she hadn’t thought to bring a lantern and didn’t know how deep she could go before having to grope in the dark. Another look around the ruins revealed something she’d missed earlier. A book rested on a slab near where the horse had been hitched, a pencil perched on top of it, as if someone had just left it there for a moment.
Rylana trotted over to pick it up. It wasn’t a book but a journal, and was that Vormalt’s handwriting? He’d never deigned to send her love letters or anything of the sort, and she couldn’t remember it well.
She expected notes about archeology and the ruins, but only a couple of pages had writing on them, and they were filled with a list of names with notes beside them.
“Mayor Sedgewick,” she read.
It was the third on the list and the first that was familiar. The gnomish Sedgewick family had been governing the city for more than a century. Supposedly, mayor was an elected position, but the gnomes who voted for officials had kept drawing from that same family for their leadership. Rylana only recognized one other name—High Priest Miknog, who supposedly conveyed the new god’s wishes to all. She’d been out of the city for so long that she wasn’t abreast of its politics or who the other leaders and important people were, but all of the names had a gnomish flavor to them.
“What would gnomes have to do with these troll ruins?” she mused.
And what did Vormalt hope to achieve?
Rylana reminded herself that she didn’t yet know this was his book or that he was in the area. Maybe a gnomish archaeologist was out here poking around.
“Except that a gnome wouldn’t have ridden that big stallion out here,” she murmured, looking around again. The horse had disappeared. She hoped itwasVormalt’s mount and that he wouldn’t be able to recover it. He deserved to walk back to the city.
A great thud came from the other side of the ruins, a quiver reverberating through the ground. Rylana dropped the book and drew her sword as she spun in that direction. A small animal scurried away, stirring lingering leaf litter from the past autumn, but nothing else moved.
“What in the two hells was that?” she whispered, then raised her voice to call, “Vormalt?” again.
Nobody answered.
Sword at the ready, she took several steps to try to see what had made the noise. A giant stone slab—a former wall—lay on its side, the dirt disturbed. Had thatjustfallen? She wasn’t sure since she hadn’t looked that closely before, but other horizontal slabs that had topped over time were covered with grime and leaves. One even had a fern growing out of a crack. The slab she was looking at wasn’t covered in anything. Yet.
“Because it was standing upright until thirty seconds ago?” Rylana rotated slowly, looking all about the top of the knoll, and she also peered skyward, half-expecting to find a dragon flying about. With their great power, knocking over a stone slab wouldn’t be challenging.
But the sky remained clear of dragons. This section of the forest was quiet, with few birds singing, but that had been truesince she’d arrived, probably because of the nearness of the dragons.
Not sure how much time she had until Jildarin's conversation with his relatives would come to an end, Rylana picked up the book and lay it open on another fallen slab. She kept her sword out as she turned to the first page of the journal again.
After making sure that nobody had skulked out of the forest and was watching her, she skimmed down the list of names, this time taking in the notes. The mayor’s entry read:
Definitely knows about his people’s past and has a lot invested in maintaining the status quo. His family has started as many businesses as the Avandars. Many cousins and siblings involved, living richly and well. Gnomes are prospering like never before in history. They like it and having power and sway over all species living in their city. Lean on him first.
Under High Priest Miknog, the notes read:
Not clear if he knows the truth or is a willing participant in the mass delusion about the new god, but, either way, he should be amenable to protecting his position and the influence of his temples.
Why did it sound like Vormalt meant toblackmailpeople? High-ranking gnomes.
His earlier words about revealing the secrets of the city came to mind. Was this about gaining something for his family? What? And what would he blackmail the gnomes with? The fact that he’d knocked over a little statue of a troll god? That couldn’tpossiblyhave done anything long-lasting and serious. Could it?
Rylana’s gaze drifted to the newly fallen slab again, and she remembered the shelf of mugs randomly collapsing in the kitchen. And the ogre wandering around with incense. Had Vormalt truly unleashed a curse? From under her family’s castle?
“How did you find me?” came a male voice from the mouth of the pyramid tunnel.
Vormalt. Hair tousled, clothes rumpled, he looked like he’d had a rough morning. She hoped he’d endured ill effects from the curse he’d apparently unleashed. Despite his haggard appearance, he stood straight with a crossbow cradled in his arms, though he wasn’t pointing it at her. Yet?
Even though his wife, Pennigrew, hadn’t given her much to go on, Rylana didn’t want to get her in trouble. She probably had no idea what an orc’sfragnokher husband was. And Vormalt was apparently much more of one than Rylana had believed. Maybe hehaddeliberately brought poisoned cookies all those years ago, trying to get her out of the library so that he could… what? Do exactly what he’d done? Tear up the floor to find the buried temple? Had he been angling to get down there all these years? If that had always been his goal, it was hard to believe he wouldn’t have found a way to get in there at some point while she’d been gone. Maybe he’d recently unearthed some new information that had informed him where in the library to look. Or maybe seeing her again had rekindled his interest in his quest.
Rylana bared her teeth, hoping it had nothing to do with her.Sheshouldn’t be to blame for any of this.
“You mumbled your intentions while you were in a semiconscious stupor on the ground under the castle,” Rylana said.
