Chapter 18 #2
Rylana didn’t point out that he’d suggested that before. The curse probably had him perturbed too. “As a dragon, you’ve had more experience with fire than I, but isn’t it hard for piles of ashes to share information?”
“Yes, but perhaps if we placed them on the offering table, it would appease the gods. This Vormalt is the one who disturbed their slumber, is he not?”
“Yeah.”
Jildarin nodded firmly as they brought in the last of the groceries, leaving Gniknik out front to help the dwarf repair the wagon. “Incineration. The human deserves it for causing all this trouble. Did you see how few of our booths and bar seats were filled?”
“I was somewhat distracted by trolls and orcs flying every which way. That’ll empty seats too, I imagine.
” Leaving the groceries to put away later, Rylana grabbed the recipe book, opened it to the bookmarked page, and set it on the counter in the kitchen.
“While you’re working on this, I’ll look for Vormalt.
So I can question him before the incineration. ”
She hoped Jildarin wasn’t serious about that, but he was wearing an irritated expression, his jaw tight as he came to stand beside her and consider the cookbook.
“We’ll find a solution.” She patted him on the shoulder for reassurance. “I would also like to return to the normal duties of running a diner. Even if we could get the landlord’s approval, we wouldn’t dare add outdoor seating on the roof right now. The pergola might burst into flames.”
“The landlord’s approval?”
Realizing she hadn’t yet mentioned that, Rylana filled him in on her conversation with Aztor.
“Regardless, a magical pergola crafted from the living branches of trees placed by an elven plant master would be unlikely to spontaneously combust.”
“I don’t know. This curse is proving powerful.”
“Not more powerful than elven magic. We will deal with the landlord after the curse is lifted.” Jildarin ran a finger down the page. “You’ve looked at this recipe to determine if all the ingredients are available for purchase?”
“Not yet.” Rylana perused it with him. His finger slid past rye flour, honey, salt, water, a glug of oil—whatever a glug was—and paused on bioluminescent aquatic yeast.
“That is not a typical bread ingredient,” Jildarin said.
“That’s not a typical ingredient at all, is it?”
“Not in bread. Perhaps for managing aquariums in the Tranquility Zoo.” Jildarin gazed at her, as if waiting for something.
“Do you… want me to see if I can find some at the markets in the morning?” Rylana couldn’t think of any vendors that sold such a thing, but she could go to the zoo to speak with whoever fed the creatures in the exhibits.
Jildarin continued to gaze at her. She didn’t know how to respond.
“That was a joke,” he said. “You are supposed to laugh.”
“Oh.” Rylana couldn’t remember him ever making a joke, so she smiled supportively. “Uhm, yes, very funny. But what part of it was the joke? That it’s something used in zoos?”
“Yes. I suppose it’s possible that it is, but…” Jildarin waved in the air never mind. “Dragons tend to be serious and don’t excel at human humor.”
“I’m sure it was a fine joke for those with knowledge of…” What had it been? Rylana looked at the recipe again. “Bioluminescent aquatic yeast. Isn’t yeast a kind of fungus?” She envisioned toadstools in the forest, not the water life in the lake.
“Yes, but I believe some of the microscopic plankton are fungi.” Jildarin waved in the direction of the lake.
“I am uncertain. Dragons are well educated, but only a few of our kind study biology, especially that of microscopic species. Dragons do not even have microscopes. We use our magic to magnify our vision and examine the world around us.”
Rylana wouldn’t have guessed dragons studied biology at all, but she didn’t voice the thought.
He’d been insulted before when she’d admitted that humans had no idea dragons educated themselves and had scientists.
A desire to prove to the various two-legged intelligent species that his kind had more sophistication and culture than others believed was part of why Jildarin had come to Tranquility to introduce his culinary offerings.
“I’ve never heard of such a thing being used in a recipe.” Jildarin scratched his head. “The glowing fish and eels from the lake can be caught—as you’ve seen, I’ve used them in my dishes—but nobody catches yeast out there.”
“Yes, the smoked eels were much better than I expected.”
“Smoking is a delicious method of food preparation. Even dragons who aren’t practiced chefs enjoy employing it.” A faint smile suggested he might be joking again.
“Smoking, roasting, flambéing, incinerating…”
“One shouldn’t incinerate a meal. Ashes do not taste good. But the other methods, yes.”
“Maybe we could go out on the lake with a pot and some kind of strainer and hope to get lucky in catching the right kind of plankton.” Rylana looked around the kitchen at the various utensils hanging from hooks and stacked on shelves.
She doubted the pasta colander would do the job.
Maybe cheesecloth that could be dragged through the water like a net?
But how would someone separate out the aquatic yeast from all the other microscopic gunk that one would collect?
As it was, she struggled to imagine bread made with aquatic anything, but maybe it worked the same as baker’s yeast.
“The lake is dark currently,” Jildarin reminded her. “It would be hard to locate any bioluminescent organisms.”
Rylana rocked back. “That’s right. Could this be why?” She pointed at the recipe. “I assumed the disappearance of the luminous water life had to do with the curse, but what if… the yeasts somehow know the troll gods want to eat them? Maybe they’ve gone into hiding.”
“The eels and fish are also hiding. The entire lake is dark.”
“Maybe they don’t want to be eaten by the troll gods either.”
“I think it unlikely the unicellular organisms are aware that fishermen—or fisher trolls—may seek them out at this time, but… it is doubtless tied in with the curse. They may be able to sense the change in the atmosphere around the lake and be hiding.”
“How might we get them to unhide so we can collect them for this recipe?”
“They must still be there; they are simply not glowing at this time. Perhaps, if we were to paddle out and agitate the waves, they could be prompted to glow, despite the curse.”
“Agitate them, how?” Rylana imagined beating at the water with a rowboat ore.
Jildarin shrugged and looked around the kitchen, then opened a cabinet. “I have a magical gnomish Whiskmaster.” He pulled out a red-painted tool with four blue rotary beaters attached.
“I’m sure that’s exactly what trolls traditionally used to gather ingredients to appease their gods.”
“Were they employing gnomish tinkerers, they might have.”
“Enslaving, perhaps,” Rylana said, thinking of the history of the city she’d recently learned. “Assuming we can gather the, uhm, aquatic yeasts, do you know anything about how you could use them to make bread?”
“I’ve never heard of one doing so.” Jildarin eyed the recipe, but, like all the other troll recipes Rylana had seen, it was light on instructions.
“Maybe we can consult Mya.” Rylana pointed in the direction of the bakery.
“I doubt she’s ever heard of doing it either. And she might advise me on how to make bread in the shape of genitalia.”
“You don’t think the troll gods would approve of that? I doubt they were prudes.”
“Actually, they might.” Jildarin grunted, grabbed a large stockpot, picked up his gnome tool, and headed for the door. “Come. Tonight, we will seek to acquire aquatic yeast in the wild.”
Rylana plucked cheesecloth out of a drawer and followed him out of the kitchen.
“If this doesn’t work,” Jildarin said, “we will tomorrow scour the markets—and the zoo.”
“Oh, that’ll be fun,” Rylana said as they walked past Gniknik, who was entering from the street, probably done helping the dwarf. “Not enough quests take me past terrariums, aviaries, and giraffe feeding stations.”
Gniknik arched his eyebrows. “Do bookkeepers typically go on quests?”
“Bookkeepers who partner with dragons do,” Rylana said.
Jildarin nodded as he led her out the door.