Vormalt lunged away from the golem, the sudden movementstartling Rylana. It startled a couple of the peacekeepers too, and he managed to snatch the wand from the lieutenant.
“What are you?—”
Vormalt waved it in the air, then smacked it against the corner of a building. The two golems stomped toward him but paused when a boom came from the southern end of the lake.
Rylana groaned. Worried about how much damage those explosives had done, she ran to the alley beside the coffee shop and climbed the ladder that led to its rooftop. From that vantage point, she could see past many of the waterfront buildings and to Lucky Island. She groaned again. Flames now burned on its far side.
“He blew up the temple.”
The gnomes who had been left behind must have been too worried about accidentally detonating the explosives to dig them out from under it.
Rylana shook her head in disbelief. Even if Vormalt truly believed the new god didn’t exist, her mind boggled at the thought of someone she knew wantonly blowing up buildings. Soldiers had done it during the war, certainly, on both sides, but that had been for strategic purposes and against an enemy. Why had he done this? Tranquility, however it had been founded, was a city of peace.
“A strange way to ensure one’s blackmail attempt succeeds,” Sylin remarked.
Rylana hadn’t heard or seen her come up but wasn’t surprised by her voice. “Vormalt must have thought the gnomes needed goading into believing he’s serious.”
“He sprinted away as the gnomes were looking that way in surprise.”
Rylana frowned and ran to the other side of the roof. The green haze filled the street now, reducing visibility, and thepeacekeepers were just realizing Vormalt had used the distraction to disappear.
“Find him,” the lieutenant barked. “He was responsible for that.”
“He’sthe one who should have been handcuffed,” Sylin observed as the uniformed gnomes and golems ran off. “I saw him dart away and could have stopped him, but…” She shrugged. “You seemed a little conflicted on whether you wanted him in custody.”
“Did I? I handed over his journal.”
“True. Maybe I misread your expression.”
Rylana sighed. “When he revealed his motivations, I wasn’t entirely convinced he was wrong to want the gnomes’ secret to come out, and I could understand wanting reparations for stolen land. But the blackmail bit and unleashing this curse… I could never condone any of that.”
Would she have felt any conflict or sympathy toward Vormalt if they hadn’t once had a relationship? She didn’t know. Even if he might have been angling for access to her family’s castle—and the buried troll temple—all along, that didn’t erase the fact that they’d spent intimate time together once.
Rylana walked back across the roof, intending to climb down to the alley, but she jerked to a halt. A blue beam of light now shone upward from Lucky Island. It was similar to the one that had flowed from her castle days earlier.
“That’s not a promising sign.” Sylin pointed not toward Lucky Island but across the lake toward Avandar Castle.
Rylana gaped. Once again, a blue beam of light was shining upward fromitas well.
“What in both hells?”
“If the gnomes’ story of the new god is indeed a fabrication,” Sylin said, “there may only be one hell.”
Rylana looked at her with exasperation. This wasn’t the time for a semantics discussion.
Unfazed, Sylin continued, “The other gods, after all, reputedly share a single hell, sending their followers who aren’t devout enough—or who sin too frequently—to commingle. Except for the goblin gods. There’s no discussion of a hell in their religion. Or sinning, for that matter. And the gnomish gods only have the Black Cave, a place of eternal toil without tools. I understand it’s not the notion of eternal toil that disturbs their kind—their gods promise to keep those in the Light Cave busy as well—but having to do it without any tools.”
“We may have to go back out to Lucky Island and see what happened.” Rylana pointed toward the blue beam and flames lingering in the trees and undergrowth after the explosion.
“We?” Sylin tapped her chest. “Haveweofficially been assigned the duty of investigating the curse?”
“Jildarin told his mom he’s working on it, and I’m his partner.”
“Oh, well, if he told his mother…”
“Besides, I don’t want to be detained,arrested, fined, or anything else the peacekeepers might be tempted to do when they realize I’ve a link, of sorts, with Vormalt. That lieutenant might wonder why I had his diary.”
“I’munlikely to be associated with him.”
