Chapter 17 #3
“Stir some of that glowing plankton into the butter, and it might have a sheen.”
“That does make me wonder…” Rylana opened the shutter to again look past the tavern and toward the dark lake, one of the towers of Avandar Castle visible.
“If there really was an ancient and important troll temple on the land where my family’s estate now is, maybe it’s because the trolls valued the lake and the bounty it offered. ”
“The glowing bounty?”
“Maybe. I’ve seen Jildarin pay a premium for luminescent eels. Some people say the magic in the fish out there not only makes them taste good but has health benefits.”
“I’ve seen the idols of the troll gods.” Sylin held out her arms, as if resting them on a rotund belly. “I don’t think healthy diets were of paramount importance to them.”
“They are always depicted as being on the stout side, but it’s also hard to chisel a svelte figure out of stone without cracking your medium.”
Rylana’s instincts twanged, and she leaned back to the window to peer out.
Someone new was walking through the alley and looking toward the back of the coffee shop next door.
This person wasn’t cloaked, and there was enough moonlight for her to make out short pale hair.
No, silver hair and pointed ears. When the male elf tilted his face up to look toward the rooftop of the coffee shop, Rylana sucked in a breath.
It was the captain from the enclave. Tassani.
Even though Sylin was flipping pages and not talking, Rylana waved for her to be quiet. She started to close the shutter, but her movement must have drawn the captain’s attention. He turned his head and looked straight at her.
Aware of Sylin not ten feet away, Rylana froze, and her heart hammered against her ribcage. What if there was a squadron of elves out front, waiting for Sylin to come out?
“Sergeant Falcon,” Tassani said, proving he’d done his research on her and dug up her mercenary name and rank.
“You can call me Rylana,” she said. “The war’s over, and I’ve retired from military life.”
“To become a baker?”
“I’m researching the troll curse.”
“In the attic of a dwarf baker?”
“Actually, yes. We think the troll gods are waiting for an offering.”
“Of bread?”
“Maybe a cake. Though most of these recipes are savory.” Rylana held up the troll cookbook, aware of Sylin watching her from across the attic.
“Have you been to the ruins site on the knoll alongside the Icefang River east of the city? There’s an offering pedestal in there with a carving of the troll gods holding out their hands and rye stalks in the scene with them. ”
Tassani gazed thoughtfully up at her. Was he debating if she was telling the truth? Or was he using some elven magic and trying to sense if Sylin was also in the area?
“We think,” was what he said and arched his eyebrows.
“My research partner and I. You met him in the enclave today. He’s in the diner, testing dishes on live trolls to see what appeals most to them.”
A bead of sweat ran down Rylana’s spine. She was sure the captain’s elven magic would alert him to Sylin nearby. Might he even now be speaking telepathically with some of the warriors under his command?
“You could go over there if you’re hungry,” she said with a smile. “I’m sure Jildarin will feed you, even if it’s troll night instead of vegetarian elf-dish night.”
“I’ve heard about the soup he makes,” Tassani said dryly. “Is that what you’re suggesting?”
“He makes a lot of things, but the dragon spices do add a lovely flavor to his soups. If you’re in the mood to feel randy, you should try them.”
Nervous for Sylin and flustered, Rylana couldn’t believe she’d said that. But if he was interested, being drugged by dragon spices could distract him from his duty of hunting down assassins.
Tassani tilted his head. “Usually, women I’m not in a relationship with don’t suggest dishes to make me randy.”
“You’re used to elven women. Human women are different.”
“Interesting.”
“Yes, we are.” Rylana smiled.
“Perhaps I will visit the diner to speak with the trolls. Even if my duty is not solving the curse, it is proving deleterious to the city as a whole. After you left, two platforms fell from the trees in the enclave.”
“You’re lucky that nothing has caught on fire yet. The troll gods really know how to throw a curse.”
“Indeed.” Tassani's gaze shifted to the rooftop of the coffee shop again, though it soon returned to the attic window. Sylin wasn’t making any noise—was she even breathing?—but he tilted one of his pointed ears toward the attic, as if he’d detected a second heartbeat.
“I’m studying cookbooks right now if you’d like to join me.” Rylana smiled again—she was smiling too often but couldn’t stop herself—and held up the title.
Face visible in the light of her lantern, Sylin’s eyes grew round.
“I’ve seen some of the items that come out of the bakery,” Tassani said. “My mother would chastise me if I went in there.”
“Do you still live with your mother?” Rylana had assumed the captain to be at least her age, but who knew with elves? He might have been three-hundred-something instead of thirty-something. Though the comment about his mother made her wonder.
“She’s next door to me,” Tassani said. “She was injured a few years ago and lives close now so I can keep an eye on her.”
“It sounds like she’s keeping an eye on you.”
“On my dietary choices, at least.” Tassani nodded to her. “Good evening, Sergeant.” Apparently, he wasn’t ready to accept her as retired from military life.
Since he was leaving, Rylana didn’t correct him. As soon as he disappeared around the corner, she pulled the shutter closed and slumped against the wall.
“You really need to get out of the city,” she whispered to Sylin.
“I’m aware, but why did you invite him up here?”
“I wanted him to think I didn’t have anything to hide. Anyone to hide.”
“And were you flirting with him?”
“What? No. I was trying to get rid of him.”
“By suggesting he get randy from dragon spices?”
“That would distract him from looking for you.”
“It might prompt him to look for you though.”
“I’m sure I’m not the one he’d seek out after eating the special soup.
Really, Sylin, why are you still here? I value your friendship, even if I know you don’t need me in your life, and I’ll miss your company, but I don’t think Tranquility is the place for you.
At least not while the elven queen is en route.
Maybe in a couple of months, you could come back. ”
Sylin sighed and closed the book in her lap, though she left a finger in place to bookmark a page.
“A few days ago, I did leave. I was nearly twenty miles from town and heading deep into the mountains, intending to live alone in the wilderness, where, if elven hunters sought me out to extinguish my life, I would put only myself in danger.”
“But the coffee drew you back?” Rylana asked.
Sylin snorted softly. “No. I bought several bags of beans and a hand grinder so I could make my own on the road, however crude the brews would be.”
“It must have been the croissants then.”
“Believe it or not, it was… I was…” Sylin flexed her hand in the air. Searching for a word? Or maybe she knew what she wanted to say but struggled to get it out.
“Were you lonely?” Rylana guessed.
Sylin lowered her hand. “I was something.” She shrugged.
“It was just too quiet out there by myself. I don’t crave copious amounts of time among people, but I also…
I don’t know. Sometimes, I liked coming back to the unit and sitting in a corner of the mess hall with the soldiers chattering around me.
And then, after we left, there was always you to talk with if the mood took me. ”
“There were a lot of days during our travels when you only spoke to me once or twice,” Rylana said, though she perfectly understood the need for companionship.
“I didn’t say the mood took me often. Just that it was nice to have someone there when it did.”
“So, you realized you don’t want to live alone in the mountains and travel solo.”
“Apparently not.” Sylin shrugged again, as if the realization had surprised her and maybe befuddled her a bit. “I’m sure I could do it for a time, but… maybe I’ll just lie low in the city until the queen comes and goes.”
“You’d better lie low somewhere more than twenty feet from the coffee shop. I hate to break it to you, but the elves have figured out your addiction.”
“Maybe the baker would let me sleep up here.”
“This isn’t more than twenty feet from the coffee shop.”
“No, but the elf captain’s mother won’t let him come in here.” Sylin smirked.
“She may not have as much sway on all the rest of the elves.”
“We’ll see. In the meantime, you’ll be relieved that I came back to assist you in your quest.” Sylin opened the book again and held it up to the page she’d marked.
By the light of the lantern, Rylana read Sacred Bread.