Page 35 of A Matter of Dragons

“She wasn’t shooting at the town, exactly,” I offered, knowing how stupid that must sound to people who’d never even seen elves before. From what I’d heard, Valgrosians considered anything magical a threat. I could only imagine how strange and, now, how terrifying Cairncliff must seem.

“Wait,” the man said. Eadberh, I reminded myself. “You’re saying no one is in charge of this town?”

“Well, there is a mayor,” I replied, “but she reports to the Town Council. She doesn’t have the authority to, say, launch an attack on a dragon.”

Rayne and Eadberh exchanged a quick glance.

“So, then, who does?” Eadberh asked.

I blinked. “Who does what?”

“Who has the authority to launch an attack on a dragon?” Rayne asked.

She leaned forward in a way that was probably meant to seem threatening, but really only made her exquisite cleavage absolutely impossible to ignore. Even Vil’s eyes drifted in that direction.

Eadberh cleared his throat. “We’re very concerned about our safety, you see. This is our first trip outside of Valgros.”

Rayne leaned back and sucked in her cheeks.

“I assure you, you’re quite safe,” I said.

The words felt awkward in my mouth, and neither Rayne nor Eadberh looked particularly relieved. Then again, neither of them had seemed especially fearful when they walked in. What in the Mothers’ names was going on here?

A memory from last night surfaced uneasily in my mind. When was it that Rayne had suddenly seemed interested in me? Was it before I’d mentioned knowing stories about elves, dwarves, and dragons, or was it after?

After. My chest felt heavy. It had definitely been after. I glanced up at the defiant, beautiful woman sitting across the table and watching me with a scowl. I’d kissed those lips last night, those gorgeous, frost wine lips. For a brief moment in time, I’d thought I’d actually managed to charm her.

But here she was, with some hulking idiot claiming to be her brother, asking questions about the same thing she’d wanted to know last night. Dragons. Valgrosians didn’t travel, and they didn’t traffic with anything magical, and yet here the two of them were. In my town. Asking about dragons.

Troubling. I’d have to keep an eye on this pair.

“And how long will you be staying in Cairncliff?” I asked amiably.

They exchanged another glance.

“Not long,” Rayne replied. “I think we’ve gotten everything we wanted.”

Eadberh nodded but made no move to stand. “So, your town can’t defend itself against a dragon unless, what, the Town Council agrees?”

“Yes,” I said slowly, wondering where this was going.

Rayne snorted. “That’s a stupid system.”

“It is not,” I snapped, surprised by my own anger.

Yes. That rush of heat had to be anger.

Rayne raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Your system sounds slow and unwieldy. It seems like you have a problem—” she raised her hands in front of her chest. “And you need a solution.”

Her hands came together in a loud crack.

“And it seems to me that most problems solved by this,” I said, smacking my own hands together, “only end up creating bigger and bigger problems, until the elves are slaughtered and the entire kingdom is horribly impoverished and held at the mercy of one man’s poor decisions.”

The room fell silent. Rayne and Eadberh looked shocked; a wave of cold regret washed over me. Damn, I was an idiot. They were only humans, and Valgros humans at that. All they’d known was life under their fool king. It was too much for me to expect them to spend a few days wandering the streets of Cairncliff and then suddenly realize you couldn’t solve everything by murdering all the elves and banishing all the magic.

“Well, this has been very interesting,” Vil said cheerfully from the end of the table.

Damn, I’d almost forgotten that little rat was here. Vil pushed his chair back, rose, and grabbed my hand in an uncomfortably firm shake.