Page 11 of Morel Dilemma

“I’ll do my best to walk to your meeting without perspiring.”

“Very well. The doors open two hours after dark in the basement of the Tinkerer’s Laboratory on Lake View Perch.” Zilek nodded to her and headed for the storeroom exit.

“That should be an interesting outing,” Zalani said, having caught who knew how much as she cleared tables nearby.

“I have no doubt.” Rylana turned toward her. “You usually wear dresses and look nicely put together.” Zalani tended to show more skin than Rylana preferred for her own fashion sensibilities, but it was always tasteful skin. “Any chance you’d like to help me pick out something?”

“Something without pockets?”

“Well, maybe a hidden pocket or two.”

“I do enjoy a sartorial challenge.”

4

On the way to the women’s boutique two blocks up Acorn Street from the diner, Rylana popped into the bakery and the coffee shop to ask the owners to let Sylin know that Rylana was looking for her. She thought her comrade might visit one if not both of those establishments at some point during the day, especially if she was still sleeping in the attic of the bakery. If not, Rylana would show up at the wine conclave without her. With the elf queen’s island ship now anchored near the docks, and log-shaped dinghies carrying warriors and dignitaries to the shoreline, where gnome officials waited with peacekeeper escorts, Rylana wouldn’t be surprised if Sylin had finally decided to leave the city.

“Will Jildarin also be purchasing elegant and fashionable clothing?” Zalani asked as they stepped into the boutique.

The air was perfumed with jasmine and vanilla, and a fountain gurgled near the front window, rose petals floating in the water. Right away, Rylana assumed her dress would cost her a fortune. Maybe it was good that she hadn’t yet taken on a monthly obligation for lodgings.

“I think everyone will be delighted if I can just get Jildarin to show up with his shirt on,” she said.

Zalani laughed. “It’s only when he cooks bacon, skin-on fish or chicken, and other foods that spatter grease that he hangs his chef’s coat on the peg. And I’m sure the female guests would be delighted if he arrived shirtless.”

“He is nice to look at in that state.”

Rylana waved to an elderly male gnome with a trimmed white beard and mustache who was wandering between well-dressed manikins and displays of scarves, hats, and other accessories. He wore a monocle on a gold chain, and three measuring tapes dangled around his neck.

A similarly-aged female gnome chattered with a pair of orc ladies in the back. To Rylana’s surprise, one of the stone-skinned golems loomed by a wall, its head nearly brushing the rafters, its arms loaded with bolts of silk.

“That’s Hasper,” the male gnome said as he approached. Perhaps seeing Rylana’s curious gaze toward the golem, he explained further. “There was an error in his magical programming, and he had a tendency to wander off to pick random items up instead of chasing down criminals. I got him at a discount and put him to work holding things. He’s also helpful with measuring towering people.”

At three feet tall, gnomes described most people that way, and he had to adjust his monocle to peer up at Zalani and Rylana.

“Greetings, Zalani, and, er… is this a project?” He tutted to himself as he eyed Rylana’s clothes, probably put off by her copious pockets. Though his gaze lingered on her combat boots, so maybe those were a more egregious fashion choice.

“This is Rylana, the Dragon Diner’s bookkeeper.”

The gnome nodded to himself. “Project. Don’t worry. You’re in good hands. I’m Tranklin.” He took one of the measuring tapes from around his neck. “Come this way.” As they followed him, he pointed to a platform in the corner of the shop. “Remove all your clothes except your undergarments and stand on there, please. I must have accurate measurements.”

“I thought I’d pick something off a rack. I need a dress by tonight, so I wasn’t expecting customization.” Rylana lowered her voice to add, “Or to engage in public nudity.”

Tranklin scowled at her, pointed firmly at the platform, and waved for the golem to set down the bolts of fabric and come over to assist with the measuring. Presumably, it handled whatever the gnomes couldn’t reach.

“It’s not that public,” Zalani offered, “and, other than Tranklin and the golem, I’ve never seen a man come in here. The lacy undergarments visible in the window usually scare them away.”

“The golem is male?”

“Well, I don’t know. I’ve not looked that closely.”

“The golems are unsexed,” Tranklin said as he whisked about, selecting dresses from displays. “We’ll choose from the already-made garments, but I insist that you not walk out in something that hasn’t been fitted. I’m something of a miracle worker, so I believe I can make adjustments by your ridiculously shortsighted and stringent deadline. But why didn’t you come last week?”

Not waiting for an answer, Tranklin continued through the store, making more selections. The colors and styles he opted for weren’t too frilly and were choices Rylana herself might have made, so she decided to trust his taste.

“How much is this going to cost me?” she whispered to Zalani as she removed her boots.

Zalani, who’d wandered a few feet away to rub a velvety green dress with a strapless bodice, winked at her. “There’s a reason I flirt so assiduously for my tips.”