Chapter 5
Zalani had to return for her shift at the diner, so Rylana was alone by the time the gnome tailor finished helping her pick out a dress and ensuring it fit perfectly.
Of course, he’d added a chemise, lacy drawers, stockings, a braided belt, a shawl, and long white gloves, which were apparently the height of fashion at cultural events this year.
Her outfit would simply be incomplete without them.
She supposed Tranklin would be offended if she later wore the gloves to clean out the grease traps in the diner’s kitchen.
It wasn’t as if she planned to make a habit of attending fancy cultural events.
When Rylana stepped out of the boutique into the late-afternoon sun, a cloaked and hooded figure gliding out of a nearby alley made her jump.
“I understand you’re looking for me.” Sylin curiously considered the dusty-sage chiffon dress and accompanying accessories bundled and draped in a protective wrap over Rylana’s arm.
“Yes. How long have you been lurking?”
“Not long, but I didn’t have a desire to go into that place.”
“Because you’re not in the market for a fancy dress or because it didn’t have a back door and wouldn’t be easily defensible if enemies rushed in?”
“It doesn’t have a back door, and the front windows are huge. You might as well wear an archery bull’s-eye target on your chest as enter such an establishment.”
“It wasn’t my kind of place either.”
“And yet…” Sylin extended a hand toward the dress. “That’s not a bookkeeper’s uniform. Are you hoping to wear clothing that will draw your dragon’s eye to your curves?”
“His brother’s eye, actually.” Rylana didn’t mention that Jildarin had barely glanced at her curves even when she’d been standing in her undergarments.
“Pomposity attracts you now?”
“Wine clubs do. And I’m hoping they do you as well.” Rylana tilted her head toward the alley, feeling they should chat in a less public spot. Thanks to the afternoon sun, a lot of pedestrians were out on the cobblestone street, visiting shops.
To her credit, Sylin followed Rylana into the alley without question and let her explain her scheme before interrupting.
“Why,” Sylin said, “don’t you let me sneak into your landlord’s house tonight, throttle him, and extract from his half-strangled throat the answers you seek?”
“First off, I’m not sure what it says about me that I attract companions who enjoy hobbies such as throttling and incineration. Second, I don’t know where he lives.”
“First, you were a mercenary, so it would be odd if your companions settled disputes over tea and cookies. Second, as an assassin, I’m practiced at locating targets, even those who go out of their way to keep details about their residences private.”
“While I appreciate your offer, I am positive Aztor won’t renew our lease if you throttle him beforehand.”
“He doesn’t know we’re linked, does he? I doubt he noticed me the day we arrived at the diner and he was berating your dragon for late payments. Also, doesn’t such behavior suggest his self-preservation instincts might be low?”
“Does that imply that you could find out where he lives in scant hours?”
“Minutes, most likely. His residence is probably public knowledge.”
“I think Aztor is bright enough to link us if you start asking him why he’s evicting the owners of the Dragon Diner.”
“I suppose. But I’m not interested in attending a wine conclave. That’s the kind of snooty place that could be laden with elves.”
“Probably genteel and sophisticated elves, not the warriors who’ve been directed to eliminate the threat of assassins.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised if your Captain Tassani attends.”
“He’s not my captain, just as Jildarin isn’t my dragon. Didn’t the wolves teach you about pronouns?”
“Your is a second-person possessive adjective, not a pronoun, and the wolves didn’t bring up parts of speech. After I left the forest, I read books to further my education.” Sylin’s eyebrows twitched. “Perhaps you should have asked your tutors to share a few more texts with you.”
“Their reading suggestions tended to be dry and filled with numbers and diagrams.” Rylana waved a hand to dismiss the topic.
“May I at least tell Zilek you’ll meet him at the coffee shop for a short chat once the queen leaves and the elves have stopped hunting for you?
Mentioning you would come was how I got him to invite me.
Due to my combat-boot-wearing scruffiness—not to mention my excessive pockets—he was hesitant. ”
“You want me to go on a date with him?”
“You could just agree to speak with him at a table while sitting at the coffee shop that you visit regularly anyway.”
“Rylana, that’s what a date is. I’m going to have to get you a dictionary for your next birthday. I can tell.”
“It could be a short date.”
“Isn’t he pursuing that elven acrobat?”
“Yeah, but he’s not going to get her.”
“He’s not going to get me either.”
“He doesn’t know that yet.”
Sylin slumped against the wall. “This is a far more onerous favor than locating and throttling someone, but I’ll do it if it’ll ultimately keep you and your dragon from being evicted. And if he makes more spruce-tipped bacon for me.”
“You’re a wonderful friend. And I can get him to do that, though the spruce-tip season may be nearing an end. Are there other tasty evergreen needles that put out new growth in the summer? Maybe I can suggest an amendment to the forest-themed breakfast menu.”
“Are there other items on it than the bacon?”
“We’ve been enjoying fermented pine-pollen syrup on pancakes, wild leeks in our omelets, and various dishes featuring dandelion greens.”
“Who knew dragons were such versatile chefs? As for the evergreen needles, the spruces should put out fresh growth well into early summer, and that goes for the edible pines and firs too. Watch out for the yew tree, which looks similar to fir, but is poisonous.”
“So not recommended for encrusting bacon with.”
“Not unless you’re serving enemies. All parts of the yew tree are excellent for that. Its toxicity interferes with the heart’s electrical signals, which tends to lead to sudden death.”
“You’re a fount of knowledge, aren’t you?”
“On certain topics, certainly. I could not tell you, however, how well pine and fir needles pair with bacon. I only know that the forest has an abundance of nutritious food for those who know where to look.”
“That must be why the elves have a cookbook on deconstructing it.”
“No doubt.”
Sylin looked toward the entrance of the alley and adjusted her hood to ensure her face was covered. A moment later, two green-cloaked elves with bows walked past.
“What I came to tell you,” she said after they’d disappeared, “is that I’m going to leave the city for a few days. At least until the queen is gone.”
“Understandable. Though I’m a little curious to see her. Aren’t you?”
“No.”
“All right. If you change your mind, because you realize you can’t part from your coffee shop for that long, I could use some help finding enchanted morels. Jildarin says dragons aren’t good foragers, and I’m not that experienced either. I wouldn’t mind the assistance of a forest-food expert.”
“You’re awfully needy today.”
“Most days, really. Other than archery and math, I have few skills.”
“It’s a miracle that you’re still alive and have found gainful employment.”
“It is. I’m hoping I can pick up the morels at the Tower Square Market, but they sound rare.”
“Enchanted items usually are. Especially delicious ones.”
“Have you had them before?”
“Just once. They have some interesting properties.” Sylin slanted her a sidelong look from under her hood.
“Like what?”
“Let’s just say that you don’t want to overconsume them.”
“Given their rarity, that’s probably not a problem.”
“True. I’m not an expert forager, I’ll admit.
The wolves taught me to hunt game, not mushrooms, and foraging is hard to learn from books.
So much out there is poisonous that you should have an apprenticeship with an expert.
If I’d grown up as a normal elf, I would have had that experience, but…
” Sylin shrugged indifferently. Or, rather, if she lamented that she hadn’t been raised like a normal elf among her kin, she didn’t show it.
“Like your dragon, I’m better at finding delicious elk and deer in the woods. ”
“You’re going to be ostracized from your people forever, aren’t you?”
“Some elves eat meat.”
“But smothered under mushrooms, right?”
“So smothered that it’s like hunting for mithril in a copper mine without a dwarven guide.”
“Well, if you happen to see any enchanted morels in the forest while you’re hiding from elf patrols, feel free to pick them for me.
You can flag down one of those dwarves driving ore wagons down from the mountains and have them delivered to the diner.
No need for you to return to town. We’ll pay the driver for his detour.
Jildarin is determined to make enchanted morels for the queen, not that we yet have any idea if we’ll be able to entice her to visit.
He has, however, mentioned that he’s met her before.
Maybe she’ll be inclined to sample the fare of a dragon chef. He’s also a rarity.”
“Yes, he is. I’ll keep my eye out in the forest.”
“Thank you. If, during your date with Zilek, he tries to drug you with spiced soup or acts at all inappropriately, I’ll swoop in and shoo him away.”
“I can handle inappropriate companions on my own, thank you.”
“Well, he is a dragon.”
“Will that preclude him feeling pain if I kick him in the fragnok under the table?”
“Probably not as much pain as a normal human.”
“Running that experiment could be amusing.” Was that a gleam of interest in Sylin’s eyes?
“I’ll tell him you’ve not only agreed to the date but look forward to it.”
Sylin waved what might have been agreement and headed toward the rear exit of the alley.