Lorzok guessed first. “Stole something from a guest here?”
“Deceived them into giving it away.”
“Ah,” Saeldian said. “Well, that was foolish.”
The fragrance of spices wafted from the cookhouse as Lorzok pulled the door open. Inside, Kell’s voice rose in a silly cackle: “Runny yellow eyes it is. I’ll boil you in oil, you!”
Saeldian stopped walking, but Verandil herded them inside. One half of the cookhouse held a long table with benches, and another frog-person slurped noodles from a wide wooden bowl.
An egg landing in hot oil crackled. Kell held his arms up as he moved sideways to check a small clay pot and then moved back—no, danced back to the stove.
“Shuahn,” Verandil said to the frog-person. “I’m glad I found you. This is Lorzok and Saeldian.”
“You’re Shuahn,” Saeldian said.
“I am,” Shuahn said. Her voice quivered. “I am already known to you?”
“Kell told me about you when he was a child.”
Kell looked over his shoulder, and when he caught sight of Saeldian, he dropped his spatula.
He hit it as he fumbled to catch it. The edge landed on the egg crackling on the hot top, and golden yolk spread over the whites. “Oops.”
Kell could juggle three balls with his off hand. He could juggle two with his right and keep up a three-ball two-handed weave. He wouldn’t have fumbled a spatula twenty years ago, much less today.
Saeldian smiled so sweetly, a weaker person would have died of it. “You haven’t changed a bit, Kell. You’d trip over a gust of wind if you weren’t careful. I have no idea how you play a fiddle.”
Kell didn’t quite stamp his feet as he grabbed tongs and slopped broad, flat noodles into a wide bowl—from the pot, not gently tossed on the flat iron grill to crisp and sizzle. A tumble of greens landed on top. The ruined egg followed.
Kell shrugged. “We’re out of mushrooms.”
The heated bowl to hold them was sitting on the back of the stove. Kell turned his back and started cleaning, the conversation ended.
It’s only until the job is done.Then Saeldian would go back to Waterdeep, pack, and go. They’d leave the Righthoofs enough to help with fixing the manor. And an explanation. Not all of it, but enough.
Kell was going to treat Saeldian like this the whole time. He’d never forgive them. Kell would need an explanation first, if he would even hear it at all, and Saeldian couldn’t explain.
Saeldian could put up with it. The job wouldn’t take long. Verandil had found a guide. They’d go to the domain and replace the gem, and this would be over.
Lorzok sighed. “Kell…”
“Lorzok. Don’t.”
“It’s all right.” Saeldian took the bowl and turned to look for a place to eat.
But the frog-person Verandil called Shuahn stood up, quivering with indignation. “These two, Verandil? You want me to guide them?”
Verandil’s shrug would have charmed almost anyone. “It would be a particular favor.”
“No. Give up on going to Hearthaven’s Repose,” Shuahn said. “You’ll get lost in the Feywild forever first. The way won’t open for you.”
Saeldian wanted to disappear but held the impulse to cast the spell in check. They bowed to the bullywug and murmured, “May I ask why the path won’t open for us?”
“Hate isn’t welcome there. You’ll never make it.”
“I don’t hate Kell.”
“He hates you.”
