Chapter 21
Rylana tucked the hunting horn into her quiver for safekeeping and found Jildarin in the kitchen with the enchanted morels cleaned and spread out on the counter.
They were glowing less than when they’d first been picked but still had a faint magical limning.
Jildarin had acquired a few baskets of mundane mushroom varieties too, and he had cookbooks as well as a text called Magical Ingredients Great and Small, Inert and Explosive open.
“I must be careful with the serving size,” he murmured.
“What happens if you eat too many?” Rylana recalled Sylin’s warning, but it hadn’t been detailed. “Not explosions, I hope.”
“No, but…” Jildarin pointed to an entry specifically on enchanted morels and read aloud.
“These deliciously rich and savory mushrooms are a favorite elven food, known to have pleasing and relaxing effects on the brain even as they sate the most discriminating palate. They occasionally induce visions and clairvoyance or what some have called an almost startling brightness of thought and lingering acuity. Enchanted morels, however, must never be used as the main ingredient in a meal because an overdose may cause the consumer to fall into a deep magical slumber from which they cannot be woken for a full day and night.”
“That sounds like a coma, not a slumber,” Rylana said.
“Indeed. I do not wish to place the elf queen in a coma.”
“That’s probably frowned upon in the royal court.”
“Yes. And it gets worse.” Still reading, Jildarin added, “In addition to the slumber, a further side effect that can linger for several days is intense intestinal distress involving fluid evacuations.”
“Let’s hope that doesn’t start until after you wake up from the coma. Not during. Not if it includes, you know.” Rylana waved toward the lavatory.
“I will be very careful with the preparation of the meals and mix in many other varieties of mushrooms, and I will also include a delicious meat offering for those who wish to partake in that. Fortunately, this is clear about the amount that can safely be used for an average elf consuming one serving.” Jildarin tapped the bottom of the page.
“That’s good. I—”
“Zalani?” came a woman’s call from the front. Was that Tezilly’s voice? “Rylana?”
“I think our neighbors may be here to set up for the coffee tasting,” Rylana said.
Leaving Jildarin to work on the night’s meal, she headed to the dining room. Rolf was holding the door open as Brella and Tezilly maneuvered inside carrying their large gnomish espresso maker. Their assistant Vilma followed them, her arms loaded with containers of coffee.
“Shall we set everything up in the kitchen?” Tezilly asked. “We thought it would make more sense to prepare our beverages over here. The fresher the better for our specialty brews.” She tilted her head toward Vilma.
“Could we chat about our plans after we set this down?” Brella grimaced, flexing her shoulders and shifting her grip on the espresso maker.
“It’s not that heavy.”
“I’m carrying more of it than you are.”
“No, you aren’t. The back end is twice the weight.”
“I could help carry it,” Rolf offered, “for a suitable tip.”
Brella pursed her lips. “We’re fine. Rylana?”
“Let’s put it on the bar there.” Rylana helped them maneuver the machine in that direction. “Jildarin is a dragon on a mission, so he’s not going to want to share his kitchen this evening.”
“What mission does he have that coincides with ours?” Brella asked. “Nothing that will outshine our tasting, I hope. Since he specifically invited us over here, we thought we would be the star of the evening.”
“I’m sure your samples will be enjoyed by all who visit. As you might recall, he’s on a quest to delight the elf queen’s palate while not causing her intestinal distress.”
“We have a similar mission then,” Tezilly said with a smirk. “Though we didn’t know you’d actually secured a promise from the elf queen that she would be here. How wonderful.”
“Elves usually prefer their strange tea to coffee,” Brella told her.
“Sylin doesn’t.”
“She’s not snooty, like most of them.”
Once the ladies had their espresso maker arranged the way they wanted it, Tezilly laid a hand on an orb embedded in the frame.
It flared to life and hummed happily. Meanwhile, Vilma set the coffee canisters on the bar next to the machine.
She also rested a stack of fliers there that gave the hours and location for the sampling, and did that updated list mention what the third item was?
“Shall I start hanging these outside?” Vilma asked of the fliers.
“Yes. We’ll want to attract passersby as well as our usual customers and those who will be coming to dine here,” Tezilly said. “Once people try the new samples, they’ll be even more eager to visit our shop regularly.”
“We’ll need fresh filtered water,” Brella said. “Rylana, can your dragon part with some of that?”
“I think so.” Rylana slid one of the fliers off the top of the stack.
“I’ll get the water,” Zalani said, walking over and pointing toward the door. “Rylana has a visitor.”
Rylana turned, half-hoping her brother had changed his mind and come back to barter for the horn, but Mya stood in the doorway, crooking a finger in invitation.
“Someone wants to see you,” Mya whispered when Rylana joined her.
“Does the someone who wants to see me think I should sneak some coffee samples to her so she doesn’t have to show up for the elven dinner?”
“That may be a possibility, yes.”
Rylana headed into the bakery, passing a couple of people arguing over selections in the clear case up front, and climbed to the attic. The trapdoor hung open in invitation.
With the flier in hand, Rylana stepped inside. In the cluttered bookcase- and equipment-filled space, it took her a moment to spot her comrade. Sylin leaned against the wall near the back window that overlooked the alley. The window facing the street—and the Dragon Diner—was shuttered.
“Is that a to-do list for your dragon chef to complete before elven royalty descends on his diner?” Sylin pointed at the flier.
“No, this is about the exotic coffee samples that will be shared tonight at the diner.”
Sylin lifted a hand toward it. “Brella and Tezilly are going through with hosting their tasting there?”
“On the terrace. As I told you, Jildarin seeks to lure you over so that your presence will in turn lure the queen.”
“I’m impressed he’s paid enough attention to me and what I like to know that coffee might work. Does he even know my name?”
“Both of your names, yes. Sylinesla.”
Sylin made a face. “I’m still skeptical I am who the queen thinks I am.”
“I’d say you should come to the diner tonight to speak with her and find out, but it might not be safe. If the queen does come, she’ll have guards with her. They should be loyal to her and not that Shaldona family or any other agenda, but who can know for certain?”
“Nobody until the arrow flies toward their heart.” Sylin stepped forward and took the flier from her. “Is the queen coming?”
“I think she might.”
Sylin held the flier up to the meager light slanting in through the back window.
“Oh!” Sylin blurted with uncharacteristic excitement in her voice. Usually dry and deadpan, she rarely showed emotion at all, much less excitement. “Oh, Rylana. Why did you bring this?”
“The flier? I thought you would be curious.”
“Are you part of the ensnaring?”
“No. I don’t think you should come. I mean, I want you to connect with your mother, but I think you should sneak into the enclave and visit her when nobody is paying attention and her guards aren’t around.”
“When you’re royalty, guards are always around.” Sylin’s hand strayed to the shoulder where she’d been injured the other day. “Trust me.”
“I guess you of all people would know.” Rylana thought about asking if Sylin had ever been ordered to assassinate royalty or a president or another head of state, but did Rylana truly want to know?
“Why don’t you tell me which of the samples you’re aching to taste, and I’ll either get some and put it in your thermos or ask Tezilly to save some beans so she can make them for you another time.
You’re an excellent customer; they should be willing to accommodate you.
In fact, they’ve already proven they will.
” Rylana pointed through the wall in the direction of the rooftop chair seated above the coffee shop.
“I believe they would save me some, yes.” Sylin gazed toward the wall, but then shifted toward the street, or…
was she perhaps facing in the direction of the elven enclave?
“I wasn’t entirely honest with you when we spoke before.
I am… I don’t know. Curious, I suppose. I have a few vague memories of the time before I ended up in the forest with the wolves.
” Sylin groped in the air beside her temple, as if she were trying to recollect something.
“I remember… a place more than faces, than people. Trees, homes in and around the trunks, a network of platforms and vine-and-plank bridges strung from great evergreen to evergreen. But I’ve wondered…
if I saw the queen’s face, and it turned out I had seen her before, maybe I would remember more. ”
“Even if she employed a nanny, I trust you saw her from time to time, yes. If only when you came out of the birth canal.”
That comment earned a sour look from Sylin. “An event that oddly didn’t imprint itself in my brain at that age.”
“Strange.”
Sylin looked at the flier and sighed. “I admit I’m suffering from a very silly emotion of wanting to be there for the unveiling and sampling.
Not simply having the brews dumped into a thermos to wait hours before finding their way into my mouth.
Besides, I only have one thermos. You can’t mix three different varieties of coffee. ”
“No, I believe the divine web of the universe threatens to rip asunder if such monumental gaffes are made.”
“I don’t know why I try to talk about coffee to someone who dumps milk and sugar into hers. You wouldn’t notice if your beans were pulverized by an ogre with a club and filtered through moss.”
“You say that in such a derogatory manner. I would think a filter like that would be desired by an elf, not sneered at. Isn’t moss nature’s percolator?”
Sylin gazed flatly at her.
“I know I’ve heard that before. Surely, your people use and adore moss. It’s the epitome of a natural substance.”
“We pack wounds with it, use it as a soil substrate, and propagate plants in it. It’s not involved in beverage creation.”
“I had no idea your diets were so restrictive.”
“I want to come, Rylana.”
“To the diner tonight? I won’t stop you, but it’s not a good idea.”
“I know.”
“But you want menu item number three? And to meet your mom?”
Sylin sighed.
“I admit I don’t even know what item three is.” Rylana had glanced at the flier on the way across the street and noticed all three of the specialty blends mentioned, but she wasn’t familiar enough with rare and exotic coffees to catch the significance.
“Black ivory coffee.” Sylin tapped the last item on the list. “It’s something I’ve read about in books but never seen before, never had an opportunity to experience. It’s very rare.”
“Are the beans from a super exotic locale?”
“Somewhat exotic, but it’s the processing that makes the coffee unique.”
“Processing?” Rylana asked.
“The coffee cherries are fermented inside elephants, which supposedly results in an incredibly smooth and almost chocolatey taste without bitterness.”
“Uh, by fermented inside, do you mean the elephants eat the beans and poop them out?”
“The beans are partially digested, then collected, cleaned, dried, and eventually roasted. The enzymes in the elephant’s stomach break down the proteins in the coffee, and that’s what results in a lack of bitterness.”
“So, the answer is yes. Tonight, our coffee-shop owners will be serving the elven queen at our wonderful rooftop terrace designed by a renowned elven plant master… poop coffee.”
“Your tastes are pedestrian and unsophisticated, Rylana. It’s a wonder your award-winning chef dragon speaks to you.”
“For someone who was raised by wolves, you’re quite a snob. Maybe I should have figured out long ago that you’re a hoity-toity elven princess. All the knives you carry around like a thuggish highwayman threw me off.”
“My knives are made by master blade smiths and are as sophisticated as I am. Neither they nor I are thuggish.” Sylin folded the flier into quarters and tucked it into a shirt pocket.
“I’m going to come unless there are legions of elves with weapons there.
To meet the female who claims to be my mother and to try the black ivory coffee. ”
“If you’re determined to partake in such ill-advised endeavors, I can’t stop you.”
“No. Do you refer to meeting the queen or drinking the coffee?”
“Both.” Shaking her head, Sylin headed for the steps.
“If you truly think I’ll be in danger…”
“I’ll put a mushroom in the window.” Rylana waved as she descended. “As we discussed earlier.”
“For a human, you’re a good and loyal friend.”
“For an elf, you’re a pain in the ass.”
“Yes. Thank you for your assistance.”
“You’re welcome.”