Chapter 28
Before dawn, Rylana extricated herself from her blankets and mattress—oh, how she loved that new bed—and went up to the rooftop to tidy the mess that had been left behind.
She looked forward to what she hoped would be a quiet few days of rest and relaxation, inasmuch as one helping run a busy diner could do those things.
Surprisingly, none of the cups and dishes that had gone flying as tables were upturned and used as shields had broken.
The mossy blanket covering the slate tiles acted as lovely padding.
The vegetation that had come alive to spit thorns at attackers, not caring that they were pointy-eared elven attackers, had gone quiescent.
Once again, they appeared as little more than trees, shrubs, and vines full of aromatic blooms.
Pleased by their rooftop terrace, Rylana might have given a few of those trees and plants loving pats as she passed. Whether elven flora appreciated that or not, she didn’t know, but she wanted to stay on their good side.
After picking up the fallen utensils and dishes, she cleaned up the bar area, putting the coffee equipment that had been left behind into a stack so she could return it to Brella and Tezilly later.
As she worked, someone climbed into view, enough daylight brightening the morning sky for her to make out his face.
Rylana tensed warily but kept from groaning. “Hello, Aztor.”
Their landlord, she recalled, had been at the diner the night before, but he’d disappeared early during the attack and hadn’t returned. Maybe he hadn’t found that arrows flying overhead provided a soothing eating experience.
“Hello, Bookkeeper Rylana.”
Deciding she wouldn’t bring up the eviction he’d threatened them with, she kept tidying and waited for him to say more. Maybe he’d forgotten about it.
She snorted to herself. Sure.
Aztor wandered around the terrace. Here and there, he touched a branch or a pot, and he paused to gaze up at the tree trunks that acted as the posts of the pergola. A few leaves had been knocked down during the battle, but Rylana had already swept them up.
“Last night was eventful, from what I saw, but I heard things were resolved without death,” Aztor said.
“That’s right. We fended off some elven turncoats.”
Aztor ran a hand over a table. “Is this growing out of the tiles?” He bent to investigate.
“That one is, yes. Some are normal tables that can easily be moved around, but Plant Master Chalora picked a few spots where she must have decided anchored furniture wouldn’t impede the flow. She waved her magical fingers to cause them to grow or form. Whatever the right term is.”
“Plant Master Chalora,” Aztor said with reverence and rested a hand on his chest.
Since he was usually a surly landlord, at least when dealing with Jildarin and Rylana, his respectful tone and the awe on his face as he gazed about seemed strange.
But he’d apparently studied the plant master’s work around the city and had known of it well before Rylana had met the elf.
Maybe it wasn’t that strange that a real-estate maven would appreciate architecture and outdoor design.
“Did the trees truly come alive and shoot projectiles?” he asked. “There are rumors going around about that.”
“A few did, yes.”
“I trust they won’t be a threat to diners and will only defend against enemies.”
“They didn’t object to anyone present last night until the fight broke out, not even a dog noshing on a bone on the moss over there.”
Aztor nodded, as if he’d expected that. “It’s a wonderful area. I’d like to come sit up here when the sun is out, the leaves are providing shade, and there’s a hint of a breeze whispering in from the lake.”
“I’m sure that could be arranged, providing we aren’t evicted.” Rylana risked broaching the subject, hoping that his appreciation of the terrace would make him less inclined to go through with his threat. “We would, of course, have to take the pergola and garden with us if we were forced to leave.”
Rylana had no idea how feasible that would be, but they had asked Chalora to use potted trees and shrubs so it would be possible to at least move them. The mossy slate tiles with tables growing out of them… Rylana was less certain about those.
“I suspected,” Aztor said sadly, then rested a hand against a tree trunk. “I can’t let this go.”
“You’d be foolish to do so.”
“I believe people will come up here regardless of the food; they’ll want to see its beauty.”
Rylana thought they would come because of the food and also enjoy its beauty but didn’t correct him.
“I own other buildings in this area,” Aztor continued. “Having this wondrous spot in the neighborhood, with those interesting vines and flowers dangling enticingly from above, could increase traffic to nearby businesses.”
“The diner meals, coffee beverages, and erotic pastries are sure to flow.”
Aztor blinked at that but went on with his thoughts. “You’ve been good tenants. Well, the dragon was a loathsome tenant, but now that you’re paying the rent promptly, the situation is far more agreeable.”
“We’re striving for agreeability.”
“And since your business is doing so well, I’ll be able to raise the rent for this prime—almost waterfront—location as soon as the lease allows.”
Though Rylana was relieved it sounded like he wanted them to stay, pressure from Frodin notwithstanding, the businesswoman in her couldn’t help but point out, “We’re a block from the waterfront, and it’s the section full of sweaty ogre, dwarf, and orc dockworkers.
This isn’t the hoity-toity area where the rich moor their yachts. ”
“The elf queen’s island ship was right there yesterday.
” Aztor pointed, though, after Fareesa had been whisked away the night before, it had taken off and was floating far out in the lake now.
“And from this elevated perch, you have a beautiful view of the water between those other buildings there.”
“One of those other buildings is a tavern, where the drunken sailors and dockworkers regularly amble out into the alley to relieve themselves when they can’t be bothered to wait in line for the indoor lavatory.
The breeze from the lake wafts the odor this way.
” Fortunately, that was an exaggeration, and that alley backed the bakery, so it was more of a problem for Mya, but this was a negotiation.
“Sailors and dockworkers—drunken, sweaty, and otherwise—are often hungry at the end of the day and come looking for food. This location is perfectly positioned to take advantage of that. Your dragon chef should thank me daily for having rented this place to him. I even gave him a discount out of the goodness of my heart.”
“Was it the goodness of your heart or the fear that he would roast you with flames if you irritated him?”
“I’m not that worried about that.” Aztor pointed toward the intersection with the pillar that had gonged ferociously during the battle and Jildarin’s changing.
“Don’t worry, Bookkeeper. I’ll only raise the rent three percent when the lease renews.
The dragon insisted on an escalation clause with clearly defined terms.”
“Ah? Good for him.” Rylana hadn’t expected a dragon largely unfamiliar with human business practices—and without a lot of interest in such minutiae—to know what to look for in a lease. But Jildarin was, as she’d noted before, no dummy.
“Yes,” Aztor said with a sour lip twisting. “At the time, he told me that his business would inevitably thrive and that he had to plan ahead for its vast success. I thought he was full of goblin glerkik, but little did I know.”
“He’s always been confident in his abilities.”
“Indeed.” Aztor patted the tree again, then headed for the stairs.
“Does that mean you won’t let my brother pressure you into evicting us?” Rylana asked.
“It does, but I’ll expect a complimentary meal on the terrace now and then. Due to my extremely reasonable and gracious nature.”
“Those are words I never thought to apply to him,” Rylana muttered to herself, but she couldn’t feel disgruntled, not when they were getting to keep the diner where it was. She might yet have trouble with her brother and the rest of her family, but… those were problems for another day.
With clouds low over the lake and a hint of mist hiding the distant mountains from view, Rylana didn’t know if people would show up for breakfast any time soon, but if Aztor had been by, others might be too.
Clinks and clunks floated up from below, promising some of the employees had arrived to help ready the dining room.
Before heading downstairs, she looked around, making sure the tables and chairs were all upright and the mess sufficiently cleaned. She spotted someone standing in the shadows of one of the trees at the back of the pergola and jumped in surprise.
“Your new terrace looks at my rooftop table above the coffee shop,” Sylin said, stepping farther into view.
“Ah.” Rylana relaxed. “Sorry about that. I know what a tremendous secret that place was and how relaxing and safe you felt up there while sipping your brews.”
“It provided a lovely view and a way to imbibe without interacting with the plebeian masses in the shop below.”
“Up until last night, you thought you were one of the plebeian masses.”
“I never believed that. I’ve always been unique.”
“One might say quirky, strange, or eccentric.”
“One having recently eaten pages from a thesaurus might, yes.”
“Were those pages rubbed in coffee, I might sample such a fare.”
“Ah, yes, coffee.” Sylin rested a hand on her chest in a manner similar to Aztor’s when he’d regarded the beauty of the terrace. “Given last night’s atmosphere, I found it difficult to appreciate the rare samples.”
“I assume you refer to having to speak with the elven queen, not the battle. The latter being a comfortable and familiar atmosphere for you.”