Page 92 of Morel Dilemma

Do not shoot to kill, Jildarin warned Rylana telepathically as he flew toward the tavern.

The carriages below had stopped, most people crouching or hiding inside them as they gaped at the clamor and chaos above. Zilek had climbed out, however, and watched with mild amusement as he sipped from a cup. How had he already acquired a coffee sample?

Golems were gathering in the street, but the lumbering stone-like constructs hadn’t figured out there was now a stairway leading to the rooftop. Instead, they stomped inside the front door.

As illogical as it is to a dragon, Jildarin added, not commenting on the scene in the street, the elves and the peacekeepers may not deem the defense of the diner—and the visiting queen—reasonable cause for slaying citizens of the city. There is the sniper!

Silver wings flapping, Jildarin dove toward not one but two archers crouched in the shadows on the tavern roof. With a great roar, he opened his maw.

One of the archers aimed a bow toward him, but Rylana had freed enough of her arrows to get another nocked. The elf hesitated at the sight of a dragon. She didn’t hesitate and loosed her arrow. It took him in the arm, spinning him away from the chimney, and his bow fell to the roof.

Jildarin unleashed a barrage of orange fire at the rooftop. The second elf saw it coming and sprinted away, but the flames caught his cloak. With his clothes burning, he leaped from the building and into the alley below.

“If I can’t kill people with my arrows, then I don’t think you should incinerate them with your fire,” Rylana said.

Noted.

More silvery arrows streaked out of the night, this time targeting Jildarin. He banked hard, nearly throwing Rylana from his back, and he barely evaded one that skimmed past his horns.

With a great roar, he banked again. Wings flapping hard, he sped toward the elves who’d dared shoot at him. His maw opened, and a great stream of fire poured forth, brightening all the rooftops and revealing the two new snipers. One ran for the edge of the building, but the other ducked behind the entrance to a stairwell, cursing dragons and their riders.

“Don’t light buildings on fire!” Rylana warned as she took aim at one of their attackers. “They belong to our neighbors!”

The Dragon Diner would be much more than evicted from its current locale if they lit a city block on fire.

Jildarin’s flames caught the fleeing elf as the archer leaped from the rooftop. The fire didn’t hit him fully—maybe Jildarin hadn’t intended it to—but lit the elf’s cloak on fire.

The other sniper leaned into view with his bow. Rylana fired first and caught him in the hip. The elf reeled back, managing to loose an arrow of his own, but it flew harmlessly wide.

When Jildarin opened his maw again, the elf who’d lingered wisely leaped off the closest edge. It was quite a drop to the ground but probably better than being roasted alive.

Jildarin let out an irritated huff and circled the airspace around the diner. Looking for more archers?

Rylana didn’t see any, but her gaze was drawn back to their rooftop terrace—and the street in front of the diner. Not only were the carriages of the rich parked on the cobblestones, but two steam-powered peacekeeper wagons had shown up. And was the gnome standing on top of one wearing a captain’s rank pins, directing uniformed troops as they filed out? Unfortunately, Rylana didn’t recognize him; he wasn’t the captain that Sylin worked with and that Rylana had spoken with while lifting the troll curse.

“This might not go well,” she murmured.

In addition to directing one of his squads into the diner and one up the stairs to the rooftop, the gnome captain was glowering ferociously at Jildarin. By now, eight golems had arrived.

We have done nothing wrong, Jildarin told her telepathically. We’ve merely defended our business and the elven queen. These are heroic acts.

“I don’t disagree, but I’m not a peacekeeper captain working in a city where violence of any kind is strictly prohibited.”

Jildarin let out a growl that might have also been a sigh. Judging by the way he kept circling the area, even after he’d determined there weren’t any other snipers on rooftops, he wasn’t in a hurry to go down and face the peacekeepers. Rylana imagined one of the officers tapping on a fine-issuing device, then tucking the page it distributed under Jildarin’s wing.

“At least Sylin and the queen seem to be all right.” Rylana pointed to the rooftop. Tassani and his loyal troops had defeated or scared away all the elves who’d turned on them, and they stood in a circle with Fareesa and Sylin inside. “Not that I think any of those elves were ever targeting the queen.”

They did not wish Fareesa to verify that Sylinesla is her daughter and the rightful heir to the scepter.

“So I’ve gathered.”

“Dragon Chef!” Someone had handed a megaphone to the gnome captain. “You will change out of that violent and deadly form and come down here to discuss your punishment for willfully disobeying the rules of Tranquility.”

Jildarin snarled. I am not the criminal or the traitor here.

“I agree,” Rylana said, though she didn’t know if the telepathic words were solely for her or if he’d directed them to everyone present. “Hopefully, Captain Tassani will speak on our behalf and plenty of other witnesses can explain what happened.”

Zilek observed the events.