Page 41 of Morel Dilemma

I’ll have to give the mushrooms a ride back.

“You’ll need me to hold them. Dragons don’t have pockets. Now, if you deigned to wear a leather jerkin, we could incorporate some pockets into it. Or maybe we could have some saddlebags made for you. The gnome at that dress shop was handy with a needle.”

It is perhaps strange that I do not mind your company.

“No, it’s not. I’m a delight. Hah.” Rylana spotted a morel growing in loamy dark earth beside a dead tree that had fallen during a winter storm. “I don’t think it’s magical though.” She wished she knew if the special morels glowed or did anything else to clue in a mundane human forager about their enchantment. “I’ll bring any mushrooms I find back so you can let me know if they’re magical,” she called back.

Since she’d wandered away from the bank, Jildarin would have been out of sight, but he’d lifted his head on his long neck so it was visible as he gazed downstream.

We are not alone, he said. I sense… Ah.

What did that mean? Rylana almost asked, but his warning made her hesitate to keep calling back to him. He didn’t sound worried, but what if someone dangerous was out here? Like the elves who didn’t want to see Sylin reconnect with the queen? Or the female dragons in Jildarin’s clan who would take one look at Rylana and know she’d kissed him? And, this time, he’d kissed her back. They would probably blame her even more for that.

“Good morning, Chef Jildarin,” came Sylin’s voice from farther down the bank.

Oh! Just who Rylana wanted to see.

She plucked up the morel—even if it wasn’t enchanted, people always enjoyed freshly foraged food at the diner—and scrambled over the logs and through the undergrowth back to the grassy section of the bank.

“Hi, Sylin. How did you find us?”

Sylin, with the hood of her dark-green cloak down, gazed blandly at Jildarin. “When one approaches on a dragon with a forty-foot wingspan, one can assume others will notice.”

As Rylana drew even with Jildarin, who remained in his dragon form, she told him, “I think she means that small prey can also see you from two miles away.”

As apex predators, dragons have no need to employ stealth.

Sylin considered the lone mushroom gripped between Rylana’s fingers. “Were you out of food at the diner?”

“No, I told you about our quest for enchanted morels.”

“You did. That is not enchanted.”

“I’m warming up my foraging skills with unenchanted morels. I don’t suppose you found any of the magical variety while you were wandering around out here.” Rylana looked her comrade up and down but didn’t see a digging stick, gathering bag, or even a bulging pocket that would suggest a day spent gathering edible fungi.

“No. I’ve been busy avoiding elves, peacekeepers with their hounds, and a lecherous logger who was so struck by my beauty that he attempted to follow me through the forest in the hope of engaging in sex.”

“Are you sure that was the reason? Maybe he wanted to mug you.”

“Whatever he desired to do to me, I had no wish to participate.”

You will inform the elf child of the newfound knowledge you have gained? Jildarin asked. Or maybe it was a command.

“Er.” Rylana faced Sylin, who mouthed the term elf child with raised eyebrows. Had Jildarin referred to her as the princess, Rylana would have no choice but to explain. Now, however, she wondered if it was her place to share that crucial tidbit with Sylin, or if she should let Layothlee do so. Or even, should their paths cross, the queen herself. After years of knowing Sylin, Rylana suspected she might take off at the news rather than come back for a visit. “Layothlee, the elven ballerina I told you about, handed me an envelope to give to you. And she would like to meet you.”

“Why?”

“Your charisma and delightful wit. Also, she thinks you may be related.”

Sylin’s jaw dropped, surprise blooming on her face. The expression made Rylana realize how seldom she’d seen her comrade surprised or even mildly startled by something. Sylin rarely reacted strongly to anything, even attempts on her life.

“Do you want me to arrange a meeting?” Rylana asked.

“No.” Sylin closed her mouth.

“You’ve admitted to being lonely lately.”

“I admitted I felt slightly bereft of companionship when I headed into the mountains, intending to henceforth travel by myself.”