“That is a strange thing for a dragon to do,” Loxvonla said, “but if we wait for you to finish, will youthenmate with us?”
“Ah, yes,” Sylin murmured. “Having an enchanted pillar assaulting the air with its raucous alarms does put one in the mood for romance.”
Jildarin glanced in exasperation at Loxvonla, but his touch on the dough remained light, his magic rippled gently in the air about him. The fire burned heartily, and more heat than before radiated from the walls of the oven.
Meanwhile, the rowboat floated toward the island with the shape-shifted dragon standing in it. Foxvonla didn’t pick up an oar, but the craft progressed toward the beach nonetheless. Hair fluttering in the breeze, she gazed expectantly at Jildarin and dismissively at Rylana and Sylin.
What is my son doing?a female voice boomed telepathically.
Rylana nearly fell over. Was that Jildarin’smother?
Rylana almost blurted anot nowbut made herself calmly say,We’re trying to end the troll-god curse, but these idiot sisters think it’smatingtime. Won’t you please call them away?
My son is absently caressing… what is that?Her telepathic voice sounded like it came from the wetlands. Maybe she was again perched in a tree over there.
It’s dough. He’s making what the trolls consider sacred bread. It’s what they demand in offering.
How strange.
Yes, but we’ve done our research, and it’s what the troll gods want.Rylana hoped so, anyway.We’re running out of time to get it baked and give it to them before?—
Another earthquake shook the land, as if the troll gods were monitoring the situation and didn’t appreciate the delay caused by the dragons.
“Jildarin-grozanarav!” Loxvonla cried with impatience.
“As I told you before,” Jildarin said, sliding the dough into the depths of the oven, “I willnotmate with you or your sister. You are overbearing, demanding, self-righteous, and manipulative. No degree of beauty will change my mind.”
“But you will mate with a feeble and inferior human!” Loxvonla thrust a hand toward Rylana.
“She supports me and watches my back while I cook.” Jildarin nodded firmly at Rylana.
As much as she appreciated that he valued her, Rylana wished he would have clarified their relationship. She hurried to say, “We’re not mating. I just keep his books.”
“You are never more than four feet from him.” Loxvonla strode toward Rylana. “There is no doubt in my mind that you are doing more than holding his tail.”
“I don’t know what that means, but we sleep at leasteightfeet apart in the storeroom. With crates between us.”
“You spend the nights in hislair?” Loxvonla demanded, as if she hadn’t guessed that and it was evenmoreegregious than having sex. “No dragon is so intimate with any but the most trusted of allies.”
Afraid Loxvonla would attack her physically, Rylana raised her bow again and chose a target. Not the heart, though she was tempted. The shoulder. But if she loosed that arrow, would the pillar strike herdown with a beam?
“Take care of that one,” Sylin said, leaving cover to jog toward the beach. “I’ll stop the other.”
The rowboat carrying Foxvonla was landing, but Rylana couldn’t do more than glance at it. Arm outstretched, her palmpointed at Rylana’s chest, Loxvonla sent a wave of power rippling through the air.
As Rylana loosed her arrow, she glimpsed Jildarin leaping out of the half-excavated temple, but the power slammed into her first, pain blasting through her body as she was knocked back into him. Worse, a beamdidshoot out of the pillar. Two beams. One struck her bow, blasting it from her hands. The other lanced toward Loxvonla and knocked her into the trees.
Jildarin caught Rylana, else she would have pitched into the sunken temple.
“Stay there,” he said, releasing her and running toward Loxvonla.
She’d fallen when the beam struck but was already rising, fury in her eyes. That didn’t keep Jildarin from grabbing her. He roared as he spun her around him, then hurled her toward the beach.
The pillar pulsed with golden power, but maybe it didn’t consider that enough of an attack, because it didn’t shoothimwith a beam. Loxvonla’s feet left the ground, far more than if a normal human had thrown her, and she flew all the way to the rowboat.
“What am I supposed to do with her?” Sylin called. “I only have one net.”
Jildarin roared again, sounding more like a dragon than a man, and stomped down to the beach.
