Chapter 24
As another squad of elves arrived, Rylana stepped out of the diner, intending to find a few peacekeepers to report that the queen would be visiting and to ask if some patrollers—with their sturdy golems—could arrange to be in the area in case trouble broke out.
Most of the elves carried weapons tied with tranquility ribbons, but they all had the look of warriors, warriors who could swiftly untie those ribbons whenever they wanted.
Further, many gave Rylana cool looks as they passed.
She had little doubt that they all recognized her and had been warned she was Sylin’s ally.
“No, we don’t have any elven tea,” a crabby voice floated down from above. Brella. “This is a coffee tasting.”
Rylana wagered Captain Tassani’s pointy-eared horde didn’t represent the kinds of customers she’d hoped to serve.
Fortunately for Brella’s sake, humans, goblins, orcs, trolls, and dwarves were also filtering into the diner and up the stairs on the side, some clenching fliers.
A well-dressed human couple carrying pads of paper looked vaguely familiar, and she thought they were food critics for one of the newspapers.
This evening, maybe they would include coffee in their column.
“Nothing to be nervous about,” Rylana muttered, daunted by all the people arriving. She wondered if Jildarin had considered that the coffee tasting would attract even more guests than usual when he’d come up with his scheme. “Lots of people to be present if trouble breaks out.”
As soon as the elves were inside, Rylana jogged down the street, looking for uniformed gnomes.
She debated grabbing one of the communal bicycles parked around the city and pedaling the handful of miles to Peacekeeper Headquarters, but she worried the queen would arrive at any moment.
She wanted to return, grab her bow and quiver out of the back, and make sure the weapons were close at hand by then.
If the elves removed their tranquility ribbons, she would do the same, and deal with the ire of the peacekeepers who would inevitably arrive later.
“Such a complicated city.” Rylana spotted three uniformed gnomes at an intersection with a fountain.
Diverting from her bicycle idea, she trotted toward them.
A copper-furred dog with a white muzzle accompanied them, and was one of the gnomes the red-haired Bixtok?
Yes, and that excited tail wag belonged to his hound, Willow.
Apparently, all of life enthused her, not only hunting for magical items in the forest.
As Rylana approached the group, thinking she could ask them to carry word to their headquarters to request troops in the area, it occurred to her that she could invite them to dine.
Even though the trio didn’t have any golems with them, they ought to be able to summon some if the need arose.
Further, since she didn’t have any proof that some or all of the elven warriors would misbehave, she didn’t know what she would report even if she were standing at the counter in Peacekeeper Headquarters.
“Hello, Bookkeeper Rylana,” Bixtok said with good cheer.
One of his fellow gnomes gazed up the street past her shoulder at two more elves approaching the diner. His brow furrowed pensively.
Rylana hoped that meant the peacekeepers had noticed that an entire legion—surely, by now, all the elves who’d arrived had to constitute a legion—was descending upon the Dragon Diner.
If the gnomes already wondered if trouble was afoot, she might not have to nudge them much to pay attention to that particular block of Acorn Street.
“Good evening, Bixtok,” Rylana said. “And Willow.”
Since they were in town, the energetic hound was on her leash, her green log inspector vest brushed free of grime. Even so, the gnome gave her enough of a lead that she could bound over to lean against Rylana’s leg and wag vigorously.
“You’ve made a new friend,” Bixtok informed her.
“Because we went on a hunt together?” Rylana asked.
“Yes, also I let her know that your generous tip was what bought this month’s treats for her.”
“The lamb lung and bovine trachea?”
“Yes.” Bixtok’s eyes twinkled. “And some delicious extras since she found such a treasure trove of magical items. She also loves cheese, prosciutto, salami, and goose liver paté.”
“It’s possible that you spoil that dog, Bixtok,” one of the gnomes said.
“I’ve seen charcuterie boards in the Gated Estates with less extravagant offerings,” the other gnome said.
“It’s important to reward log-inspector hounds to keep up their enthusiasm for their work,” Bixtok said.
“With goose liver paté?”
“Treats that motivate a dog to perform.” Bixtok pulled a compact book out of a pocket, the spine weathered and pages worn. The title read: The Handguide to Training a Log Inspecting Hound. “It’s in the first chapter.”
Willow turned her back end toward Rylana for a scratch, and she obliged. She was looking for a way to invite the peacekeepers to patrol around the diner that evening when Bixtok spoke again.
“I suppose this wouldn’t be a good night to come by for the meals we earned?” He waved at Willow and himself while raising hopeful eyebrows toward Rylana. “We’ve spotted a bunch of elves heading in there and saw that the coffee shop is hosting a tasting, so I guess it’s some kind of special event?”
“There is a special event, but I could talk to Zalani about squeezing you in if you three want to come to dinner.”
“You mean us four?” Bixtok smiled and pointed at Willow again.
“Er.”
Rylana remembered that Jildarin had indeed said he would feed the hound something—he might not have had goose liver paté in mind—but that he’d objected to the idea of Willow eating inside the diner.
But dogs had keen senses, didn’t they? Maybe if the hound was present, she would bark at the elves with nefarious intent.
That was probably wishful thinking, but Rylana liked the idea of having the peacekeepers in the diner, and she doubted the dog would be too much of a nuisance.
Further, seeing the gnomes’ uniforms might make the elves hesitate to draw their weapons.
“Sure,” Rylana said. “In addition to dinner, there’ll be special coffee samples on the rooftop terrace.
You may want to check out that area.” She was talking to the peacekeepers rather than the hound, but Willow woofed, her tail wagging vigorously again.
She must have approved of being invited to dinner, because her entire back end wiggled with the wags.
“That dog doesn’t need any caffeine, Bixtok,” one of his comrades said. “Ever.”
“I know,” Bixtok said. “I wish I woke up as perky and full of energy as our hounds.”
“As do we all,” the other gnome said. “Perhaps if we had breeders who carefully chose our sires and dams for superior traits…”
“You’d actually be able to convince a woman to marry you?” his comrade suggested.
“That would be nice. I’d like babies as well as puppies.”
“What if the breeder didn’t find you worthy of passing along your blood?”
Willow hopped onto the lip of the fountain and barked, not at the commentary but at something in the direction of the docks.
Rylana also climbed up so she had an elevated view of the waterfront.
Ah. The elven ship had sailed close, moving from its earlier anchoring spot to a public dock near the diner.
Dozens of elves in green and brown uniforms were out on its island-like deck, all armed, and a carriage reminiscent of a tulip bulb mounted sideways on wheels waited to unload.
“The queen’s carriage,” Rylana realized with certainty. Though Fareesa had been in the enclave when they’d met, she must have chosen to stay in whatever palatial suite she had on the elven vessel. “She’s coming to dinner.”
Willow barked again and wagged.
“Does your dog like elves?” Rylana asked.
“She likes everyone,” Bixtok said.
“Then I guess I’m only modestly flattered that she rushed up to lean on my leg.”
A squad of uniformed gnome peacekeepers marched out onto the dock. Would they escort the queen and her entourage to the diner? And stay to maintain the peace? Maybe Rylana didn’t need to worry about anything. With so many law enforcers of various types present, who would dare start trouble?
She’d no sooner had the thought than she spotted a pair of elves lurking in the shadows of an alley. When they noticed her noticing them, they pulled their hoods up and slunk out of view.
Rylana’s stomach twisted. There was going to be trouble. She was certain of it.
“Why don’t you three—four—come back to the diner with me now?” she suggested. “I’ll make sure you’re seated at a table before it gets crowded. You’re able to call golems if anything against the laws of Tranquility happens, right?”
Bixtok pointed to one of his comrades, who nodded and patted a pouch on his side. Maybe it contained something for summoning the great stone-skinned protectors.
“Good.” Rylana set a brisk pace back to the diner but slowed when she spotted someone familiar outside. Their landlord, Aztor.
She braced herself to deal with him, but Jildarin opened the door and spoke to him before she arrived.
He pointed upward to the flower-dotted vines dangling from the rooftop terrace.
Aztor looked up at the foliage as a hummingbird swept in and visited a trumpet-shaped flower.
Maybe it was Rylana’s imagination, but his expression seemed more one of wonder and appreciation than a cool businesslike demeanor that might have suggested he’d come to kick them out.
Jildarin glanced at Rylana as she approached, leading the gnomes.
His expression was harder to read, but the hard set of his jaw made her believe he hadn’t changed his mind about spiking the food, and he probably wasn’t pleased that she’d suggested it.
She lamented that she’d given him a reason to be disappointed in her, but she didn’t think her plan had been that egregious.
Only a chef would have been that mortified by it.
Besides, all she wanted to do was protect her friend.
Rylana glanced at the windowsill. The morel was gone.
Damn it, who’d taken it, and had Sylin spotted it in time?
All she could hope was that Sylin was watching the area from afar and had seen all the elves arriving, elves that had best be avoided.
“The queen is on the way,” Rylana told Jildarin, “and these three fine gnomes would like to partake in the evening meal.”
In the dining room, Zalani walked into view carrying a tray. Rylana caught her gaze and lifted three fingers, then pointed at the peacekeepers.
Willow woofed and wagged her tail.
“Four would like to dine,” Rylana said as Bixtok smiled and nodded.
Jildarin’s eyes narrowed. “The hound may eat outside behind the storeroom.”
Disappointment hooded Bixtok’s eyes, but he said, “That’s fine. May I take my meal out there too?”
“There are no tables back there,” Jildarin said.
“Willow and I don’t need a table. We often eat perched on logs or sitting on some fine moss in the woods.”
“There’s nice moss on the rooftop now,” Rylana said. “Maybe that would be an acceptable area for a hound.”
Jildarin grimaced. Maybe she shouldn’t have suggested that, but she wanted the peacekeepers close.
“Oh, that’ll be lovely.” Bixtok pointed toward the corner of the building. “Are the stairs around there?”
“Yes,” Rylana said as Jildarin said, “No.”
“Yes,” she said again.
Jildarin folded his arms over his chest. “No.”
“You can’t deny their physical presence over there,” she murmured to him, then waved the gnomes toward the corner.
On the off chance that the rooftop terrace would appeal so vastly to their landlord that he wouldn’t dream of evicting them, she also pointed him in the direction of the stairs.
“Do you want to check out Plant Master Chalora’s work, Aztor? And try exotic coffee samples?”
“I… yes.” He nodded and followed after the gnomes and Willow, her tail wagging as she trotted around the corner.
“That dog had better not mistake the moss floor up there for an area to attend to biological needs,” Jildarin said darkly.
“Don’t worry. I was just discussing with someone how moss is a natural filter.”
That earned her an even darker look. Face flinty, he didn’t look pleased by the development. He doubtless hadn’t intended for Bixtok to come to receive his compensatory meals on the same night the queen was visiting.
“I thought the gnomes would be good to have here as additional security in case something happens,” she said, feeling the need to explain, though he probably didn’t realize she’d specifically invited them.
“That gnome and that dog are not warriors.”
“I’m sure Bixtok has had the mandatory peacekeeper training, and the others have devices for summoning golems if need be.”
Jildarin let out a sigh that sounded like a growl. A very dragonish growl.
Deciding she had best not irk her partner anymore that evening, Rylana followed Aztor and the gnomes up to the rooftop. She would let Jildarin handle greeting and schmoozing the queen. Rylana would simply brace herself to handle security—and hope that she had the means to do so.
As she rounded the corner, the tulip carriage, drawn by white stallions led by a unicorn, came into view as it turned up Acorn Street. Jildarin stepped out to wait and personally attend to the queen.
Rylana climbed the stairs to the rooftop terrace, numerous visitors and more elves than she could count standing or sitting in the area, many with sample cups of coffee in hand.
Those elves had shooed the visitors away from a table set under one corner of the pergola, and they gazed with stone faces at Rylana.
Pretending not to see them, she smiled and joined Brella and Tezilly at the bar. The two women were busy pouring coffee and handing out samples and little cards with tasting notes.
As the cool gazes of the elves remained on Rylana, she couldn’t help but worry that she wouldn’t have the means to handle security and that three gnomes wouldn’t be of sufficient help.
All she could hope was that, if some of the elves did ignore Tassani’s orders and attack, it wouldn’t be that many of them.
Ideally, most would be loyal to him, to the queen, and to the queen’s desire to meet her long-lost daughter.