Mya held up a wooden spoon. “Chef Jildarin’s magical dragon emanations arewonderful.”
“Oh? Is that why so many female dragons are after him?”
That earned her a sour look from Jildarin.
Mya blinked. “Are they? I would imagine they have theirownemanations.”
“If so, they didn’t discuss them with me while they were trying to incinerate me.”
Mya opened her mouth but didn’t seem to know if that was a joke or not. “Not here in Tranquility, right? You mean during the war?”
“Earlier in the night and out on the lake.” Rylana waved away the subject and pointed to the contraption. “What are you doing?”
“Making the dough.”
“With the special yeast? Did we get it?”
“Yes, we’ve already separated the aquatic yeast from the other organisms that were in that chaotic collection of glowing water you had Sylin bring in.”
“Does it need to be fermented or prepared or…” Rylana waved vaguely, not sure how the process worked. “Jildarin said it might take days. Or is that what his emanations are helping with?”
“Oh, I’m not even sure what the preparation method would be for such an unorthodox product. We figured the wisest course would be to use regular yeast and substitute lake water with some of the purple-glowing plankton—that’s the correct species mentioned in the recipe book, by the way—as the activator.” Mya waved to a mostly empty glass measuring container on the counter, the remnants of a bubbling liquid in the bottom, then pointed at her dough. “Iwouldn’t necessarily want to eat bread made with murky lake water, but I’m not a troll. Certainly not a troll god.”
“That doesn’t sound very scientific.” Rylana had imagined the aquatic yeast being a crucial part of the baking process.
“I doubt trolls from centuries past were that scientific in what they made.” Mya opened a container and scooped out flour, dumping it onto the counter, then shaping it into a hill with a divot in the middle.
“As long as the aquatic yeast isinthe sacred bread,” Jildarin said, “we believe that may be sufficient.”
“We’ll find out.” Mya took the bowl out of the contraption and placed the dough in the flour area she’d prepared so she could start kneading. “Don’t go anywhere,” she told Jildarin. “I want you to wrap your emanations around the proofing box too. They might make the dough rise faster.”
“And here I thought dragonspiceswere the secret ingredient in your popular dishes,” Rylana told Jildarin.
Looking a little smug, he said, “I believe I informed you that the mosses, lichens, and fungi that grow in the southern dragon caves do so, at least in part,becauseof the magic that my kind emanate.”
Before Rylana could reply, the door opened, chilly green air wafting in, and someone walked into the bakery. Zilek.
Looking a bit rumpled himself, like he’d also been out all night, he arched his eyebrows as he focused on Rylana. “Well, that’s handy.”
“What?” she and Jildarin asked at the same time.
With his gaze remaining on Rylana, Zilek said, “Our aunt has instructed me to kill you.”
24
Jildarin stepped protectivelyin front of Rylana before she could come up with a response to Zilek’s statement.
“I trust you are not consideringobeyingAunt Lysilria,” Jildarin said.
“It’s generally a wise idea to obey one’s elder relatives,” Zilek said, “especially if one wants to retain access to the family hoard, and I do, indeed, enjoy the lifestyle that our clan’s gold provides.”
“You will not harm my business partner. Dragons do notneedopulent lifestyles.”
“Oh, but you know I enjoy the amenities and entertainment of Tranquility. Though the curse has meant fewer venues are open, and did you know that the elven Windsong Traveling Troupe has postponed their opening night performance indefinitely? At least until the curse can be lifted. I had hoped to watch the agile and beauteous Lady Layothlee perform last night.” Zilek clenched a fist to his heart and looked at the ceiling, as if pained deeply. But he soon lowered his arm to look at Jildarin and Rylana again. “My brother, our aunt claims that your infatuation with this human is the reason that you’re not springing forth to mate with females ofyour own kind. I tried to explain that I am quite certain you’re not having sexual interactions with your bookkeeper, and that she shot you during the war, but we both know that a little violence wouldn’t deter a dragon’s interest, should he have any. If anything, it might bestirgreaterinterest in a possible mate.”
“Excuse me, but I’mtryingto make dough to satisfy a troll god here,” Mya said, her sleeves rolled up as she kneaded the mixture she’d put together. The look she gave Zilek—actually, she directed her glower towardallof them—suggested she would prefer they have the conversation elsewhere.
“Are troll gods picky?” Zilek asked in bemusement, not taking the hint to leave the kitchen.
