“Atrollscribe,” Zalani said. “Well, the recipes were probably copied and put into book form by a human or gnome, but they’re troll cookbooks.”
“Oh?” Rylana looked to Jildarin. Was this research related to the troll gods and the curse?
“There are many recipes for a type of flat bread favored by their kind,” Jildarin said. “The half-elf is assisting with research since my bookkeeper wandered off after our return to the city.”
“Her name is Zalani,” Rylana said, “and your bookkeeper specializes in accounting and math, not perusing pictures of… is that a squid?”
“If I’m interpreting the pictures correctly,” Zalani said, “thisparticular flat bread recipe is delightful with cured fish or marinated squid. Squid ink is the secret ingredient. According to this…” She flipped the page to a rare description beyond a list of ingredients. “It turns the bread black and gives it a mild, briny depth rather than a fishy taste. If I were a troll god, I would find that delicious.”
Jildarin must have given her some of the details about their visit to the ruins.
“It uses rye?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Bookmark it. I will attempt to bake the most promising of the recipes.” Jildarin waved toward the gnomish commercial oven on the far wall. “Even if baking is not my special gift as a chef, I am capable of following a recipe.”
“I can help research later if you like.” Rylana felt a twinge of guilt that she’d been at the coffee shop and poor Zalani had been swept in to scour troll recipes. Even if Rylana had been correct in pointing out that such assignments didn’t typically fall under the duties of a bookkeeper, it was closer to something she would do than something a server should be tasked with. And she liked research, even the non-number-related kind. “I came to see if you would accompany me to the elven enclave for some research of my own.”
“Me?” Zalani raised her eyebrows and touched her chest.
“Jildarin. I’m hoping his dragonly aura will convince the elves to treat me nicely.”
“Ah, of course.Myaura wouldn’t have that effect.” A wistful expression crossed Zalani’s face as she returned to studying the cookbook.
As a half-elf, she probably wasn’t treated any better by her elven kin than a human would be. Maybe worse. Rylana had observed thatbothspecies tended to look down upon those with mixed blood. Since Zalani also looked disappointed, Rylana wastempted to invite her along, but that would leave only Gniknik and Rolf, if he was around, looking over the diner. That seemed like it would result in even more chaos than a curse could bring. She resolved to invite Zalani for coffee once the city was back to normal.
“You seek to research pergolas?” Jildarin asked.
“Not today. And probably not at the elven enclave, though I’ve heard they can use their magic to coerce living trees into growing branches and shifting their trunks about to create benches, beds, and other comforts for the elves.”
“That is true. They have plant masters who specialize in such work. Such an individual could likely make a pergola out of trees.” Jildarin gazed toward the ceiling. “Perhaps, when you are getting bids from contractors, you should consult an elf.”
“You don’t have any trees growing out of the roof that could be used.”
“Cannot some smaller species of trees exist in large pots?”
“I… probably.” Rylana waved a hand to dismiss the tangent. “I want to ask the elves about gnomish history and the troll gods. Sylin thinks that because they’re long-lived, some might yet be around who were here at the founding of the city. Even if that’s not the case, the enclave apparently houses an extensive library.”
“One containing old troll cookbooks?” Jildarin asked.
“I don’t know why theywouldn’thave such excellent literature in their collection.”
He must have sensed she was teasing him, because he squinted at her with disapproval.
“Will you come along?” Rylana asked, not daunted by his expression. “The elves are more likely to give you a tour of the library than me. I’m also a little concerned about being dragged away for questioning.Rigorousquestioning.”
“Because of your association with the elf assassin,” he said.
“Yeah.”
“She should depart from the city, for her safety and yours.”
“She’s mentioned possibly doing that, but she has a coffee addiction to work through.”
“You can get coffee almost anywhere.” Zalani tucked a bookmark into the page with the squid-ink flatbread recipe and continued to flip through the tome.
“Not the kind of quality coffee that her elven palate demands.” Rylana waved in the direction of the shop across the street.
