“You had recreational coitus with him,” Jildarin said, or was it a question? He seemed to be trying to figure out if he’d understood correctly. Or maybe he was trying to figure out why anyonewould have sex with Vormalt.
She did not point out his handsomeness again. “That’s not important now.”
“Do you still desire him?” Jildarin asked.
“No, I do not. If I see him again, I’m likely to punch him.”
Jildarin considered that for a moment. “Among dragons, violence does not negate an interest in mating.”
“Oh, I know. I saw you and the scaled sisters tearing into each other.” Rylana rubbed her face. Why were they talking about this?
And was Sylin smirking? It was hard to tell in the dark.
“You’re a pain in the ass,” Rylana told her. “I may not give you the warning—yetanotherwarning—that I’ve received that pertains to you.”
“I already know about the queen and that elves are looking for me. That’s why I got the flask.” Sylin raised it in a salute. “So I could take coffee with me and won’t need to visit the shop as often.”
“Your addiction is going to be your undoing.”
“Addictions often are.”
Rylana didn’t look forward to hunting Vormalt down, especially if it involved traveling all over the countryside, searching ruin sites that he may or may not have ever visited. She wondered if she could ignore the situation and return to her life—recording numbers and getting bids for building out the rooftop dining area. After all,shewasn’t the one who’d tipped over the troll-god idols. She’d even righted them.
The same ogre that they’d seen on Acorn Street walked down the waterfront avenue, still waving his incense around and tossing salt.
Rylana sighed. Something told her that Vormalt’s scheme was going to intrude upon her life, whether she wanted to address it—and him—or not.
8
The next morningfound Rylana bent over the desk in the diner’s office, not recording numbers but perusing a map that Sylin had brought by. Even though Rylana hadn’t requested it, her comrade had gone to the university library before dawn and acquired it. After she’d dropped it off, Rylana had given Sylin a heaping plate of food from the kitchen, telling her she was a good friend and forgiving her for calling Vormalt herformer loverin front of Jildarin. Sylin had taken the breakfast, saluted her, and gone to fill her gnomish vacuum flask at the coffee shop.
“Looks like about ten historically significant sites with ruins within twenty miles of Tranquility,” Rylana murmured to herself, circling them with her finger. “A couple are right on the banks of the north shore of the lake, but those are visited so frequently that the gnomes have turned them into parks. I doubt Vormalt would think places with children swinging from tree branches worthy of study.”
Would he consideranyof them worthy? Such nearby ruins had to have already been studied thoroughly over the centuries by the scholars of Tranquility.
Rylana reminded herself that just because Vormalt’s wife believed he’d been visiting ruins this week didn’t mean that he was. Unfortunately, she didn’t have any other leads. She lamented that he’d gotten away before she’d been able to question him.
“There are only three with names derived from the Troll language,” she mused, placing markers on those destinations on the map. “If hewereat ruins, they’d probably be ones having to do with trolls, right?”
Jildarin walked into the office, and Rylana rose, thinking he would expect her to join the staff in serving the morning meal. But he was carrying a plate with two butter-and-jam smeared biscuits and a small pile of?—
“Is that the coffee-rubbed bacon?” Rylana asked, as the delicious aroma drifted to her nostrils. She’d spotted some out on the counter when she’d passed through the kitchen with Sylin, but he hadn’t yet been cooking it then.
“It is.”
“Oh, Jildarin.” Rylana snatched a piece from the plate and clasped a hand to her heart as she chewed. “Maybe Idodesire you.”
He blinked. “Because of the bacon?”
“Yes. And because youbroughtsome to me. And it’ssogood.” Eyes closing, she enjoyed another bite.
“Interesting. Perhaps I should suggest this methodology to Zilek for the elven ballerina he seeks to woo.”
“Most elves are vegetarians, right? He would have to rub coffee on a mushroom.”
“Coffee and mushrooms?” Jildarin touched a finger to his chin and gazed thoughtfully at the ceiling. “Perhaps employed in a pan-searing with butter and chopped hazelnuts, that could be an appealing dish to the elven palate.”
Rylana opened her mouth to say she’d been joking, but helooked serious. “You’re welcome. I’ll always be here for you if you want help brainstorming ideas.”
