“Rock candy, ma’am?” the dwarf she’d flagged down asked. “One copper.”
Rylana produced a coin and almost grunted at the heft of the bag that he plopped into her palm. “You sure this is rock candy and not just rocks? This must weigh ten pounds.”
“No more than five, certainly. But good candy has theheftof rocks, yes, ma’am.” He shifted the box in his hands. Its weight was probably the sole reason for the thick muscles on his arms and in his neck. “It’s a traditional dwarven dessert.”
“You could knock out an elephant with this.”
“Maybe a small rhinoceros, ma’am.”
As the dwarf turned away, it occurred to Rylana that the bags might make decent projectiles, at least at short range. She had excellent aim but could only throw such a weight so far. “Wait.”
He turned back.
“I’ll take three more bags.” Rylana held up a finger while she dug for more coins.
“You haven’t tried the first yet.”
“I’m a woman who can appreciate a dessert with heft.”
While Rylana extracted three more coppers, a boy with a coin trotted up to him.
“One, please.”
The vendor accepted his coin and gave him a bag, but he fumbled it and dropped it on his toe.
“Ouch,” he yelped, grabbing his foot and hopping around on one leg.
“Alargerhinoceros,” Rylana murmured as the kid hobbled away.
The dwarf smirked, filled her arms with the rest of her order, and headed toward the seats. Aware of a golem passing nearby, Rylana opened one of the bags and pretended to inspect the contents while she searched for the missing goblin.
“One minute’s worth of sand left in the hourglass,” the announcer called through her megaphone, then turned toward the stage. “Plate your dishes, chefs.”
The goblin wasn’t with the press. Hecouldbe lurking behind the stage, and Rylana wouldn’t be able to see him from herlocation. He also could have gone to the lavatory and not be up to anything nefarious, but she doubted it.
The announcer banged a mallet on a gong. “Time is up! Back away from your dishes, chefs.”
“You’ll need to return to the seats, ma’am,” a uniformed gnome told Rylana, a towering golem behind him.
“Yes, of course.” She went as far as to stand at the end of the front bench while the dishes were delivered to the judges. Each plate had a number but nothing else to indicate who had cooked what. Since their tables were to the side of and below the stage, they shouldn’t have been able to see much of the actual cooking.
The judges picked up their silverware to sample the offerings, then scribbled ratings in pads. Reminded of the night Jildarin had asked her to assess his meals, Rylana decided he must have done his research in regard to how the contest would unfold.
Rylana looked at him. He gave her a confident nod as each judge received a small portion to taste.
“As we wait for the results from the first round,” the announcer said, “chefs may begin thinking about the second. The ingredients that will be used are orcish fieldthrash, freshwater octopus, and maple syrup.”
Murmurs went through the crowd, the audience agreeing that the required ingredients were growing more challenging. Rylana was fairly certain that the fieldthrash was a weed, maybe even one that was poisonous without proper preparation. Jildarin tapped his chin thoughtfully.
Two men tallying up the ratings took a piece of paper to the announcer.
“We have the results from the first round,” the woman called through her megaphone. “Right now, the three chefs in the lead are Lady Saslin, the elf chef from Twigs and Bears, Yerin, food critic for theLumi Lake Chroniclesand chef at Celestial Ceremony, and, finally, Jildarin, the chef of the Dragon Diner.”
Cheers, murmurs of surprise, and an indignant, “What about Chef Doxlor?” came from the crowd.
Rylana gave Jildarin an approving gesture, but the announcer had said they could begin the second dish, and he was with the other chefs, gathering ingredients from the pantries and iceboxes.
“Isn’t that Jildarin a dragon himself?” someone murmured.
