Blaze managed a weak smile but was soon scowling again.
“Come on.” Durae grabbed his arm and dragged him through the maze of food stalls to Cloud Cake. The line in front of them was the longest Durae had seen yet, which made sense. Aisling had won two well-deserved awards for her baking.
However, no one in line seemed in the mood for conversation. More elves were filtering through this area than in the ones they’d previously visited, so Durae spent his time evaluating what the mood of the crowds was. If he could find a group of gossips that could spread the word among the aristocracy, that would help them out tremendously. Even if there was doubt about Blaze’s invention, smears on Lord Gustus’s reputation could aid their overall quest.
“I wish we knew who the judges were,” Durae muttered.
“The whole point of anonymous judges is so they can’t be influenced,” Blaze replied.
“Ours is a legitimate case of theft and a massive safety concern! There should be someone to report this to!”
“I know,” Blaze sighed.
They shuffled forward. The wait was agonizing, but food was needed. The offerings of Cloud Cake were among the best in all of Everend Market. With such a rough beginning to theirday, Durae believed they deserved some sort of reward for persevering.
Most mornings, Aisling was in an upbeat swing, displaying that unique blend of working and enjoying herself, but this morning, her tail twitched with annoyance whenever she wasn’t using it in her work. Her curly red hair was a little more frizzled than usual, and she had a frown that would’ve worried Durae if Blaze didn’t have a deeper one.
The dark cloud surrounding her broke when Durae and Blaze approached her counter. She smiled, freckles across her cheeks scrunching into new constellations as she did, and said, “Ah, hello, Durae. The special cake today is summerapple.”
The ever-moving traffic of people slipping past Cloud Cake dragged Durae’s attention away while she spoke. The pile of flyers in his hands was less than they were, but he still had too many of them. Mack often came by this stall. Perhaps they’d had better luck and needed another batch of flyers to hang or pass out.
Blaze nudged his elbow, and Durae blinked a few times before turning his focus back to Aisling. “Hello! We are going to order in a moment, but I was wondering if we could put one of these up on your stall?”
He handed her a flyer and decidedly did not look to see if Blaze was frowning even more than before.
Aisling took it. Her brows bunched.
Durae held his breath. If Aisling turned them down, he’d fling the rest of the flyers to the wind and hope for the best.No, I won’t. This battle is worth fighting.
“Yes, of course.” Aisling flipped the page around for him to see. It read: See the True Inventor: Blaze Levimist! “What’s this about, though?”
“Blaze—that’s this wonderful elf beside me—has created an airship! It’s a true wonder,” Durae said. “But this bastard stole his schematics and made it, too!”
Aisling’s green-brown eyes went wide.
“I did show him the designs,” Blaze said. His voice was hollower than an empty well.
Durae bristled. “As part of a negotiation!” He twisted toward Aisling. That point had lost them most of their potential support among the artificers. Without direct evidence that Blaze’s designs were the original, no one had been willing to believe them over what they’d already heard from Lord Gustus. “He used magic to copy them.”
Red colored Aisling’s cheeks. “The cheat! Have you been to Inventor’s Row with this, or are you going there, at least?”
“We’ve been by,” Blaze said.
“Lord Stelen has a … mixed reputation.” Durae risked a glance at Blaze, and his heart sank again. He choked down the urge to shake Blaze out of his funk. “And he has friends. We had trouble telling others about him.”
A fierce light filled Aisling’s eyes, and she straightened, jaw tightening, too. “Well, I have friends, too. I’ll talk to my family—Darra will spread it far and wide among the Copperford crowd, at least.”
Then she leaned out and posted the flyer on her stall.
Hope fluttered through Durae’s chest, but it refused to roost. Blaze almost lifted his head, though.We will get through this.Durae’s stomach gurgled with hunger. “Thank you, Aisling. Can we get two Copperford pies, please?”
An exchange of coins for baked goodness happened. As they left the stall, Blaze sniffed his hand pie. “What’s in this?”
“Mushroom gravy and vegetables. It has been saving my hide these last two weeks,” Durae murmured. It was good and hot, so the best he could do was nibble on the edge.
Blaze lightly took hold of Durae’s elbow and pulled him to a stop. They were in the middle of a busy path with other elves already squeezing around them like they were rocks in a babbling brook. But inconveniencing others suddenly didn’t matter. Warmth had returned to Blaze’s eyes, and he had a soft smile Durae usually saw in the corner of his eye.
“Thank you,” Blaze said.
