“For the most part,” said Viv, who stared at it, her eyes roving over curving pipes and polished glass plates.
“Well.” Tandri’s expression had given way to something with more humor in it. “Don’t leave me on tenterhooks.”
“Right! So, fire.” Viv located the small door along the front and flipped it open. An oil reservoir and wick were just visible. She found a long, sulfur match, struck it, and lit the wick, closing the door after.
“And water….” She filled a kettle from the water barrel, opened another door along the top, and carefully decanted water into the reservoir.
While she retrieved a bag of beans from the storeroom, she heard a rising gentle hiss, and by the time she returned, the gauges along the front had begun to twitch.
There was a clever grinding mechanism at one end, and she poured a measure of beans into yet another compartment. She unlatched one of the long-handled devices from the front of the machine and slotted it in below the grinder. Once the right-hand gauge crept into the blue section on its face, she flipped a lever, and a rumbling whine sounded as the beans were ground and packed tightly into the scoop of the handle.
“Can you pass me one of those mugs?”
Tandri obliged, watching the whole process with interest.
“Now, for the final bit,” said Viv, reseating the scoop in its original location, placing the mug beneath, and flicking another lever.
A louder, sharp hissing, a gurgle, and the machine thrummed as water surged through the silver pipework. After several seconds of increasing noise, a steady trickle of brown liquid poured into the mug below.
Viv waited a bit too long to cut the switch, but she could tell immediately that she’d mostly done it correctly. The smell that rose from the mug was rich and warm and nutty… and perfect.
She brought it to her nose, closed her eyes, and inhaled deeply.
“Gods. Yes, that’s it.”
Relief and elation surged through Viv in equal measure.
“I really like it this way, but for a first timer….” Viv held the mug under another spout and pressed a trigger along the top, and hot water burbled into the cup until it was nearly full.
She turned carefully to Tandri and held the mug out. “Here. Go on. Careful though, it’s hot.”
Tandri gravely took the mug and held it in both hands, tentatively sniffing at it.
She brought the brim to her lips, blew on it for several seconds, and then took a very cautious sip.
A long pause.
“Oh,” said Tandri. “Oh my.”
Viv grinned. This just might work.
7
When Cal next appeared with his tools, Viv proudly displayed the gnomish coffee machine. The hob was inspecting it with interest, thumbs tucked into his belt, when Tandri appeared.
Viv made the introductions.
“Charmed,” said Cal, executing a deep bow.
“It’s nice work,” said Tandri, gesturing to the interior. “I remember what it used to look like.”
The hob puffed up a little bit at that, and Viv was sure she saw him struggling not to smile, but he only nodded and said, inevitably, “Hm.”
Deliveries from the previous day’s excursion began to arrive and continued piecemeal over the balance of the day.
Cal hung the wall lanterns, while Tandri and Viv uncrated and shelved the dishware, rolled out the rug, and arranged the tables and chairs out under the front windows.
Midafternoon, Cal excused himself to run “a little errand.” He returned a while later, struggling with the awkward bulk of a wooden signboard. Breathing heavily, he set it down with the front facing away and drummed his fingers anxiously across its top.
