“Yes, but not because of anything my family did. An intruder got in, tipped over some troll-god idols, and possibly did something else of significance. He keeps disappearing before I can get answers out of him about that. But that night is when the curse started, I think. I don’t suppose you know anything about the history of the new god and the establishment of Tranquility?” Rylana didn’t expect that, but if she could ask questions of her own and derail Layothlee from inquiring about Sylin…
“I… know what the height from the ground needs to be to complete three rotations in the air and land on your feet.”
That wouldn’t be helpful in alleviating a curse, but Rylana caught herself asking, “Mathematically or intuitively?”
Layothlee shrugged. “Both.”
Rylana supposed it wouldn’t be logical to invite the elf who was covertly questioning her to the coffee shop to chat about life experiences employing math.
“Elder Valesena might know more about the establishment of Tranquility than the history books tell us,” Layothlee said. “I believe her mother was traveling in the north at that time and livedin the area with a dwarf lover from the Skyfang Mountains.” She waved toward the snowy peaks on the horizon. “Valesena enjoys telling stories about her family history and might not mind sharing them with an outsider. She speaks seven languages, including the challenging orc tongue, and doesn’t think people are ignorant twits just because they’re not elven. Of course, if they prove themselves twits through their actions, she has no trouble telling them so.”
“Does she live in the enclave?” Rylana looked toward Jildarin, wondering if he was getting anywhere with Lady Hythia.
Three more older elves had joined them, another female and two males. Maybe Jildarin had already found a wise elder with a long memory. But they’d all joined in on the pointing and gesturing at Rylana, all while wearing stern expressions. She doubted they were discussing the city’s origins.
“I don’t think we’re getting a pergola made from living trees,” she murmured.
Layothlee was peering toward her rolling, twirling, and somersaulting troupe and pointed to someone observing the practice from beside an ancient oak. “There she is. She travels with us as our advisor and diplomat, and has been all over the world.”
“An acrobatic troupe needs a diplomat?”
“To gain access to perform in places that don’t feel fondly toward elves, oh, yes. We didn’t used to have much trouble traveling all over the world, but that was before the Ore War.”
Rylana herself would feel more fondly toward elves if they would stop pestering her. “Can you introduce me?”
“Sure.”
As Layothlee led her toward the troupe, Rylana considered the white-haired female onlooker. Valesena was slender and leaned on a staff, her face lined with age and a droop to one of her pointed ears. She was the first elf that Rylana had seen who truly looked old. Of course, it hadn’t been the grandmas who’d been sent out tobattle the joint kingdom troops during the war. When Valesena lifted her staff and snapped a correction at a youngster who landed awkwardly, Rylana decided she might be old, but she wasn’t infirm.
“Lady Valesena?” Layothlee asked. “Do you have a moment? A visitor to the enclave has a question.”
“I’ve heard about that visitor.” Valesena’s thin white eyebrows twitched.
“I never wanted to be famous,” Rylana murmured.
“Oh, you’reinfamous. There’s a difference, girl. What do you want?”
“I’m trying to alleviate the troll-god curse to the city.”
“Are you a priest?”
“I’m a bookkeeper. The curse is affecting our diner’s bottom line.”
“She’s trying to learn about the founding of Tranquility and the period when the new god first came to the world,” Layothlee offered.
“To resolve a troll-god curse?” Valesena asked.
“The person who caused the curse to start—I’m not entirely clear on what he did to accomplish that—seems to want to blackmail the gnome leaders into admitting that the new god is… might be… a farce.” Even though Rylana had never considered herself a devout follower of any of the gods, she struggled to get the accusation out, feeling it might be blasphemous and she could be struck down by divine magic. “I gather he thinks he can gain power and prestige for his family through his blackmail, though I’m not sure exactly how. He hasn’t been as faithful in updating his diary as you’d hope.”
“This person has unleashed a curse on the entire populace of this area to seek personal gain?” Valesena asked.
“Apparently.”
“He must be human.”
“Goblins would cheerfully do such things as well,” Rylana said.
“Yes, but they don’t keep diaries, preferring instead an oral tradition.” Valesena smirked.
