“I believe if I remain close to you, neither of my relatives will strike again.”
“I think you being close to me is the problem,” Rylana said, though she wouldn’t have been tempted to shoo him away, even if the peacekeepers and golems trooping alongside them hadn’t ensured they would continue toward the headquarters together.
“Yes, but you are my business partner and perform my calculations. I will not ask you to leave, nor willIleave, regardless of the threat of a curse or the wishes of my kin.” As they walked under the lampposts at the head of the boardwalk and turned onto the waterfront street, Jildarin sent a defiant look toward the black dragon.
Rylana smiled, finding it—him—handsome. Too bad their snuggling together in the woods—he’d doubtless seen it only as keeping her warm—hadn’t been more private and had ended with them being captured. She wished… Oh, she needed to let those wishes go. He wouldn’t change his mind about recreational mating. It was enough that he valued her. It would have to be.
“Thank you,” was all she said aloud.
Vormalt had been walking ahead of them, alongside the mayor and the high priest who kept looking back toward Lucky Island—or maybe the dragon—but he shifted his position to come alongside Rylana. She grimaced, not wanting to talk to him.
Before he could speak, the ground rumbled again, tremors palpable under their feet. They were stronger than the previous tremors, and Rylana spread her arms, unsettled. They’d drawn close to the city, and a few snaps and cracks and shouts of alarm came from buildings along the waterfront. In a dwelling nearby, something shattered.
“Your mother may be right that the threat from the curse is getting worse,” Rylana said to Jildarin.
“She—or rather the dragon priest—suggested that the troll gods, having had their long slumber disturbed, are not only upset because appropriate offerings haven’t yet been made but because they’ve realized that many of their people have turned their backs on them and are following a false god.”
“If that’s the new god, he may be more false than I would have previously guessed.” Rylana glanced at Vormalt, who was close enough to hear their conversation.
“Very false,” he said. “You should be as indignant about the whole scheme as I was when I first learned about it. You should be onmyside instead of trying to get gnomes to search my bag.”
“I am a little indignant, but you’re blackmailing people and trying to profit, which I’d also classify as a scheme. I’m not sure anyone is in the right here.”
“Theystolemy ancestral land.”
“Centuries and centuries ago. And you’ve got a nice estate on the rich side of the lake. Your family wasn’t impoverished by the events.”
Vormalt clenched his jaw and looked away without replying. She couldn’t tell if it was because he believed she was being deliberately obtuse and was angry about that, or if he didn’t answer because she’d touched on something uncomfortable that he didn’t want to reveal. Maybe his family hadcome upon hard times of late. It had sounded like he married Pennigrew Timberport more for status—and money—than love.
Rylana shook her head. Whatever woes the Vormalts might be enduring, this wasn’t a legal way to solve them.
With a final violent tremor, the earth stopped quaking, but, at the same time, thunderous snaps came from the road ahead. A portion of the waterfront street crumbled and sloughed into the lake, leaving Rylana and their escort gaping.
Sedgewick cursed and spun on Vormalt, thrusting an accusing finger at him. “Youare responsible for this.”
Vormalt lifted his arms. “It’s not my fault the trolls have turned away from their true gods, and those gods are vexed.”
“Itisyour fault,” the high priest said, also rounding on him.
With Vormalt’s arms raised, the flap of his bag slouched open, his hand no longer protectively covering it. Rylana was close enough to spot the faint glow of the activator wand. She pointed out toward the lake at the black dragon, though Jixana remained far enough away that she wasn’t triggering the pillars on the shoreline, and Vormalt and the gnomes looked in that direction. While they were distracted, she slipped her hand into Vormalt’s bag and plucked out the wand.
As soon as he realized what she’d done, he whirled and tried to snatch it, but she jumped back. He snarled and lunged after her, but Jildarin stepped between them, blocking Vormalt with a growl. Even in his human form, his resonant growls conveyed power—and danger.
Vormalt swore and skittered back.
“This is for you, Lieutenant.” Rylana handed the wand to the gnome, who blinked and accepted it. “There’ll be no need for an accident to happen to Vormalt’s bag in your headquarters.”
“What is it?” Sedgewick was pointing at Rylana, as if he’d been about to order her tied up, but he looked at the glowing device.
“An activator wand for magical bombs,” the lieutenant said. “I’ve seen them before. They can be used to detonate theexplosives from a distance, once the person who set them is safely away.” He frowned at Vormalt.
“Hewasgoing to blow up the temple.” The high priest clasped an appalled hand to his chest.
Vormalt clenched his jaw and didn’t respond.
Jildarin stepped forward, and Vormalt moved farther away from him, but Jildarin was walking toward the water. Jixana was now flying back and forth directly in front of their section of the shoreline. Jildarin made a chopping motion with his hand. Was he communicating telepathically with her?
Farther out over the water, his aunt also flew into view. Rylana shifted her weight, worried they meant to combine forces to try one final time to get rid of her, and that they didn’t care that the golems stood nearby.
