Jixana lingered, probably speaking to her son, who gazed back at her for a long moment before shifting into human form and jogging to the oven. On the way, he glanced at Rylana and Sylin, nodding to himself when he saw them standing and not too badly injured, but he didn’t hesitate to jump down into the ruins of the troll temple. No doubt, the baking of the sacred bread had to be carefully monitored.
Without saying anything else to Rylana, Jixana flew away. A frustrated roar wafted to them from the direction the other two dragons had disappeared.
Rylana eyed the fallen pillar and hoped the peacekeepers could repair it because she doubted she’d seen the last of those sisters.
27
It tookthe peacekeepers who’d cried out from the boardwalk longer than it should have to reach the far side of the island. Maybe they’d wanted to make sure the dragons were truly gone before arriving. By the time the gnome captain, several of his troops, and two golems came into view, the scents of baking bread were wafting into the air. Given that the dough was not only black from the squid ink addition but glowing from whatever magic the luminescent yeast had instilled into it before their passing, it smelled surprisingly good. Rylana wouldn’t dare ask for a sample though. She wanted the whole loaf to be set on the offering pedestal in front of the troll-god statues.
“What happened here?” Captain Laridon glanced at the rubble from the destroyed temple but gave the fallen pillar a much longer look. It had stopped glowing and sparking and lay quiescent.
“Earthquake,” Rylana said.
“Either that or it fell over in fear at the arrival of dragons,” Sylin said.
“It wouldnever,” the captain said. “The great magic of ourpillars is made to defend against dragons—against anyone who comes within Tranquility’s borders to enact violence.”
“It also defends against those who try tostopthose who want to enact violence.” Rylana shook her hand. Though the beam hadmostlystruck her bow, the nimbus of its power had left her fingers numb.
Sylin looked toward the road, then headed to the beach instead of commenting further on the pillar. She probably wanted to fold up her net in case she needed to use it again someday.
“It should not have struck my bookkeeper and partner, Rylana,” Jildarin said from the oven. He was monitoring the bread diligently as it baked. “She sought only to defend herself against a vengeful female dragon who interrupted our important quest.”
“The pillars will strike anyone who raises a weapon—or a fang or claw—within Tranquility’s borders. This island is a jewel of our great city, so I will order a repair team out as soon as it is safe to do so.” Captain Laridon arched his eyebrows as he considered the oven and the troll temple.
“We hope this works and it will be soon,” Rylana said. “The curse is disruptive to everyone. It’s even interfering with the dragons’ ability to hunt.”
“Tragic,” Laridon muttered.
“Hello again, Sergeant Falcon,” came the elf captain’s dry voice from the road.
Rylana swore and spun about to warn Sylin. Thankfully, she’d already disappeared. She could sense an elf coming from miles away.
Captain Tassani looked from Rylana and her bow to the oven, the scent of baking bread unmissable, and finally to the offering platform. Either Sylin or Jildarin had fully cleared it of dirt.
“Hello, Captain,” Rylana said. “You and Captain Laridon missed the dragons.”
“That’s disappointing,” Tassani said.
The gnome captain shook his head, not appearing disappointed in the least, merely daunted as he continued to survey the damage.
“Are you and the peacekeepers here to detain us again?” Rylana asked, though maybe she shouldn’t have brought that up. At the moment, nobody was eyeing her menacingly while waving handcuffs.
“Actually, after getting your intentions from the dwarf baker, we found a troll shaman to see if she could help.” Tassani nodded back along the road, and a gray-skinned troll with braids of white hair walked into view, clattering a little, thanks to no fewer than twenty necklaces she wore. They featured beads, finger bones, shells, and other quirky items. The troll strode straight toward the newly revealed temple, carrying a scepter with what looked like a fossilized egg mounted to the top.
“Lord Dragon,” the shaman rumbled as she climbed down into the temple without remarking on whether she’d known about it or was surprised by its revelation. “I will bless the sacred bread.” Ignoring Rylana, she stood beside the oven, raised her arms, and sang in her native tongue.
The bread seemed to glow brighter. And did the troll-god statues in the templealsostart to glow? Or was that just the sun coming out from behind a cloud and shining vibrantly upon the ancient stone? Probably.
“My senses tell me that the dragons have departed the area completely.” Tassani gazed toward the southern end of the lake. “I regret that we arrived too late for me to assist you in battling them. From what I saw, they were determined to stop this for some reason.” He extended a hand toward the oven, though it drifted back toward Rylana. “Actually, they seemed intent on stoppingyou. I suppose you were the one shooting arrows at them.”
She wondered how he’d seen all that through the trees. This part of the island wasn’t visible from the boardwalk or the shorelinewhere the city sprawled, but she knew elves had other ways of sensing things.Magicalways. She suspected they would have long since caught Sylin if she weren’t an elf herself, also possessingmagical ways.
“Only because they were trying to kill me,” Rylana said. “I don’t think the two sisters cared at all about the curse.”
They hadn’t even acknowledged it. Only Jildarin’s mother had been mildly affronted by the curse.
“Kill you?” Tassani asked. “Why? Because you fought against their kind during the war? Many of those who’ve recently moved to Tranquility did so. I’ve not seen dragons risk the ire of the pillars to attackthem.”
