Chapter 2 #2
“I was second in line,” Sylin said, sipping again, “behind the fast-moving goblins who’d just exited the bakery with a cake box, a hole snipped out on the top so that a rather erect and large…
zerg stick could protrude. You’re fortunate that dragon isn’t interested in hiring you.
I can’t imagine the indignity of working at an establishment where the food has strange aphrodisiacal qualities that prompt the libidinous diners to order pornographic cakes from the bakery across the street. ”
“I don’t think anatomically-shaped baked goods quite qualify as pornography.”
“You didn’t see the size of the zerg stick. It looked like it was inspired by an ogre, not a goblin.”
“How do you know it wasn’t?”
Sylin took another sip as they returned to the street. “It was green.”
“For someone who isn’t usually interested in such things, you got a good look.”
“Shall I remind you of my profession? It behooves me to constantly remain alert and monitor my surroundings.”
“You’re retired, aren’t you?”
“Hm,” Sylin said noncommittally.
Rylana paused in the street. Jildarin was still outside the diner, and his fists were clenched.
Fortunately, he wasn’t looking at her but instead faced a male human who wore the kind of blue-tweed frock coat that was popular with bankers and business owners in the city.
Most people, having seen Jildarin in his native form scant minutes earlier, were giving him a wide berth, but this man adjusted his round brimmed hat and stepped closer to him.
“When are you going to be able to pay your rent?” he demanded.
“Soon,” Jildarin said.
“You said that last month.”
“It’s even truer now.” Jildarin glared balefully at the man.
Anywhere except in the city of Tranquility, a human would have quailed under a dragon’s glare and the irritated power that Jildarin radiated, even while shifted into a more benign form, but the man knew he was safe here.
He straightened his coat, lifted his chin, and said, “If you are not able to pay it in full by next month, including interest for all the delays, I will bring the golems and have you evicted.”
“The Golden Whisk is in a week.”
“The Golden what?”
“It is an annual culinary competition hosted at the old arena on an overlook of Luminous Lake.” Jildarin pointed toward the north end of the city. “I will be able to come current with the rent after winning the prize money.”
The man—the landlord—scoffed. “You’re a business owner. You’re supposed to be able to pay your rent based on what you earn from your business.”
Voice cold, Jildarin leaned forward and said, “I will acquire the funds.”
Even from a distance, Rylana could sense his power—and she well remembered the heat of the flames that had almost scorched her.
She wouldn’t push a dragon, even in Tranquility.
There was no magical ribbon that could keep a dragon from changing into his native—and extremely deadly—form, and Jildarin might well decide the diner wasn’t worth the trouble and roast the landlord.
Maybe he would torch Rylana as well before flying out of the city to return to his homeland.
What was he doing here anyway? Dragons weren’t chefs. She’d never even heard of one that cooked its meat. They usually killed and devoured their prey raw. They certainly didn’t make soup that had strange side effects on those who consumed it.
The landlord took a step back, looking like he might have realized he was being overly assertive, given the nature of the being with whom he spoke. That didn’t keep him from saying, “If you don’t have your rent money, including what’s overdue, in two weeks, I will start the eviction process.”
“That is acceptable and expected, but I will have the funds by then.” Jildarin opened the door and stalked inside. Before it closed behind him, his voice was audible, roaring, “There will be no coitus in my diner. This is a place of eating! Get out!”
The couple that Rylana had seen earlier ran through the doorway, the woman’s dress half off her shoulder and the man struggling to pull his trousers up while sprinting away at top speed.
Rylana scratched her jaw, bewildered.
“I knew this city was quirky, but I’m finding our visit more fascinating than I expected.” Sylin sipped the last of her free sample.
“Was it fascinating when that dragon nearly incinerated me?” Rylana asked.
“No, that was merely entertaining.”
“I trust the only reason you didn’t try to save me was that the tranquility ribbon tied your knife case shut. It had nothing to do with a barista wandering over to tempt you with samples.”
Sylin grinned. “It was one of the owners, and she didn’t come out until after the golems showed up. Even the most entrepreneurial of business owners don’t peddle their wares while a fearsome dragon is on a rampage.”
Telling herself it would be wise to have nothing more to do with Jildarin or his diner, Rylana started past it, but the fleeing patrons had left the door ajar, and the lingering bacon scents made her pause.
That smelled so wonderful. Could he really work in the kitchen, cooking over a hot stove to feed humans?
It was so incongruous with all things dragon.
Usually, if they interacted with humans or any of the non-elven species at all, it was to drive them out of their lands.
The occasional hedonistic dragon visited villages and towns and expected offerings of meat from the orcs, goblins, or humans that lived there, but Rylana had traveled all over the world, and she’d never seen anything like this.
“It does smell good in there, doesn’t it?” Sylin said. “What a wonderful combination of aromas. But, why, do you suppose, is he making a soup that turns people libidinous if he doesn’t want them to have sex in his diner?”
“I have no idea.”
“Perhaps the workers in that fine establishment across the street can illuminate the mystery, should we care enough to inquire.” Sylin pointed to the coffee shop, a woman with a tray still out front, handing out the last of her samples to passersby.
“No doubt if we buy beverages, they will be more inclined to share details.”
“No doubt,” Rylana murmured, following her comrade toward the shop, but she couldn’t help but look back and wonder about that dragon.