Chapter 7 #2
He stepped aside, and they found that the last of the diners had departed and the staff had finished cleaning and left. Had they been talking for that long? Rylana hadn’t realized it. For a stuffy dragon, Jildarin could be kind of fun to spend time with. When he wasn’t accusing her of desiring him.
Outside, a soft mist fell, the air cool.
“I wonder if we could put in a rooftop fire pit too.” Rylana looked above the building’s facade as they crossed the street. “To extend the outdoor dining season.”
“It is good that my new partner puts much consideration into making the business profitable,” Jildarin said.
“I’m glad you think so. My father—”
Jildarin halted abruptly, and Rylana paused and looked around. A young couple was walking arm-in-arm out of the coffee shop, but he was staring at a grate in the street. A faint green glowing vapor wafted from it.
“What’s that?” Rylana wondered if he’d seen the phenomenon before.
“I am uncertain, but I sense very faint magic from it.”
“I think that grate is for stormwater runoff and that it travels to the lake. Maybe something has happened, and the bioluminescent life have drifted upstream. Somehow.” Rylana shook her head, not finding her own hypothesis plausible.
“The plankton and fish do not emit vapor.” Jildarin looked up and down the street, but the late hour and the damp weather made it quiet, with the departing couple the only people in sight.
They hadn’t noticed the green cloud, which continued to flow out, mingling with the mist. “There is no reason for my culinary rivals to continue to plot against me.” He sounded like he was trying to convince himself.
“But perhaps Chef Yerin is holding a grudge, after his humiliating defeat at the Golden Whisk.”
“You think that’s about you?” Rylana pointed at the vapor.
“It is near my diner.” Jildarin rested his palm on his chest. “Perhaps it is another goblin alchemical concoction designed to force a shape-changer back into his native form while the peacekeepers are nearby, prepared to usher him out of the city for disobeying their laws.”
Rylana checked the intersections up and down the street but didn’t spot any golems or uniformed gnomes.
Given how many people had wanted Jildarin to leave the city—Yerin hadn’t been the only one maneuvering against him—she couldn’t blame him for suspecting this was part of a new plot against him.
His newfound success might also make others jealous and provide another reason for people to act against him.
“It should be easy enough to avoid.” Rylana pointed to suggest they take a wide berth around the green vapors. “We can ask the people in the coffee shop if they know anything about it.”
“Very well.” Jildarin gave the grate an even wider berth than she’d indicated.
Rylana didn’t tease him, especially since he could sense magic in the vapor, but she did smile because he was far warier in dealing with something like this than he had been about going into battle with aggressive female dragons.
They’d almost reached the door to the coffee shop when a cloaked ogre turned the corner onto their street, muttering to himself as he waved sticks of burning incense in the air.
As he walked, he also pulled some sand or maybe salt granules out of his pocket and tossed them over his shoulder.
Though he strode in their direction, he seemed too focused on what he was doing to notice them.
He did spot the vapors, and his mutterings increased as he circled as widely around the grate as Jildarin had.
Maybe wider. Further, he waved the incense sticks in its direction, the scents of jasmine and sage mingling in the air, and tossed three more pinches of whatever over his shoulder as he hurried on his way.
“Something is going on,” Rylana decided.
“If he is tossing salt over his shoulder,” Jildarin said, “he is performing superstitious activities in line with how ogres believe that curses may be warded off.”
A soft psst came from around the corner of the coffee shop, and a hooded and cloaked figure leaned into view. Sylin?
“Are you on a date?” she asked softly. “Or do you have a moment? You need to see something.” Sylin pointed back in the direction she’d come. Toward the alley or something on the waterfront street on the other side of it?
“We are business partners,” Jildarin said, “on the way to discuss plans for the diner over flavored water.”
“Let me show you something first.” Sylin held up a cylindrical container with a lid and tilted her head toward the alley again.
“What’s that?” Rylana pointed at the container as she joined Sylin at the corner.
“A recent purchase. I found a gnome at the Tower Square Market who sells insulated vacuum flasks for keeping beverages warm.”
“So, that’s filled with coffee?”
“To the brim. I had a headache this morning because I didn’t drink enough. Whatever your butler was hired for, it wasn’t to make quality coffee.”
“He feeds the dogs and helps my father keep an eye on the castle.”
“The dogs should complain about his culinary skills. Follow me.” Sylin glanced at Jildarin but didn’t object to him coming along.
“This elf can be trusted?” Jildarin asked Rylana as they trailed Sylin through the alley.
“I would trust—and have trusted—Sylin with my life,” Rylana said.
“It is my life that the lesser species enjoy plotting against.”
Rylana almost pointed out that Yerin hadn’t been trying to kill him, just get him kicked out of the city—and the Golden Whisk competition—but she recalled his story of an orc spice seller attempting to poison him.
“Sylin, are there any rewards out for the death of Jildarin?” Rylana asked.