“The last message said a calamity would befall the diner, not Jildarin specifically. But, having grown up in Tranquility, I’ve seen that people can be emboldened to a foolish extent by the knowledge that the law protects them from violent repercussions.”
“Ah, yes. We discussed that before. They’re like dogs barking at passersby from behind a fence.”
“Exactly. When I first went south and joined the mercenaries, I was surprised by how polite everyone was around people who are armed and trained. As to the potential job… if I can’t ferret out what I want to learn, I may need someone to stake out the diner and capture whoever is leaving graffiti and lobbing rocks through the windows.”
“Capture or kill?”
“Deathwould be a harsh punishment for someone painting azergstick on a door, don’t you think?”
“When I accept jobs, I don’t make ethical or moral judgments about the choices of those who hire me. I only count the coin to make sure it’s sufficient for the level of personal risk involved.”
“You’re a practical elf.”
“Always.”
“I don’t need an assassin,” Rylana said. “Just someone tough with good eyes who doesn’t mind lurking for hours on a rooftop to observe an area.”
“I charge an hourly rate for lurking. And I require the fee up front, especially from those who work for an employer who pays only in soup and bacon.”
“I’ll talk to Jildarin about arranging payment from the diner’s cashbox. Or he can payyouin food. He actually wanted your palate last night to sample some of his dishes. I understand there may be elves among the judges for his contest.”
“Remind me not to come to watch it, then.”
“Were you planning to? One doesn’t think of assassins as typical audience members for a cooking competition.”
“The uniqueness of watching a dragon chef might be enough to draw one. Does he flambé all his dishes?”
“I haven’t seen him flambé anything. Wait, that’s not true. I’ve noticed that the burner isn’t alwaysonwhen he’s cooking, and, at last night’s meal, there was seared fish.”
“Howseared?”
“Just on the outside. The inside was only lightly cooked.”
“Huh. That’s more finesse than I would expect from a dragon chef.”
“There was also a delicate custard dessert with a sugary top that was crystallized by heat.” For the first time, it occurred to Rylana to wonder if the peacekeepers knew dragons could createfire while in their human forms. Probably. They exuded magic even when shape-shifted.
“Delicate is not a word one usually applies to dragons.”
“You sure you don’t want to come to the cooking competition to watch him work? It could be fascinating. He invited me. Well, no. Hecommandedme to come.”
“Are you his employee or his servant?”
“His brother considers me a servant. And Jildarin…” Rylana scratched her jaw, not sure what exactly Jildarin considered her. He was calling hermy enemyless frequently, but he hadn’t stopped altogether. “He has a commanding presence,” she finished with.
“That’s a safe way to describe a dragon. More apt thandelicate, I’m sure.”
“Thedesserthe made was delicate. That’s all.”
Rylana turned toward the bow to regard the western shoreline, her family’s castle visible in stark detail as the ferry drew closer. Numerous private docks jutted from the beaches and points, but there was only one public dock, a wide gravel road heading inland from it. Neither the road nor the Avandar estate had changed much in the years she’d been gone, but some of the surrounding properties had been built up with additions or had sprouted new boathouses and gazebos.
“Yerin’s family lives up on the same bluff as my father’s castle, but it’s not quite visible because of the trees.” Rylana pointed. “It’s behind and down the road a bit from Avandar Estate.”
“You’re going to see the food critic? To ask about the lack of specificity in his review regarding ingredients?” Sylin didn’t sound excited by the prospect.
“I’m planning to talk him, yes.”
“I shouldn’t have been so eager to come along.”
