Page 6 of Morel Dilemma

Jildarin tilted his head as he considered it. “It is not a cave, but… that is the pergola you originally spoke of, yes?”

“Essentially, yes.”

“You will install it then.” Jildarin nodded to Chalora. “Requisition help as needed from my staff. Should you need heavy items lifted, I will assist you.”

“I have a team of experienced elves that I work with, thank you.” Maybe the plant master didn’t want Rolf carrying her potted trees—or demanding tips each time he moved something for her. “We can begin as soon as this afternoon.”

“That is acceptable.”

Gniknik leaned through the doorway. “Chef Jildarin? Rylana? The landlord is here. He says he has bad news.” The gnome’s grim expression suggested he might already know what that news was. He glanced at Chalora and the illusion, and opened his mouth like he might say more, but merely shook his head and walked back out.

“That man vexes me,” Jildarin said. “Why does the crabby landlord need to visit so often? We have paid our rent for the month.”

“Maybe if you give him some bacon,” Rylana said, “he’ll be more amenable.”

“No amount of fried pork could improve that human’s disposition.”

“It’s making me amenable,” Chalora murmured. She’d dug into the rest of her dish, but the bacon was disappearing most rapidly.

“But not amenable enough to design a cave.”

“Since you’ve given me food,” Chalora said, “I won’t point out the dragon tendency toward being exasperating.”

“Wise.”

Rylana set her mostly empty plate aside and walked out of the kitchen, worried about what bad news the landlord had brought. She’d thought he had decided he would allow them to modify the rooftop, as long as the legendary plant master was behind the design. Had he changed his mind?

3

Zilek came in through the storeroom and intercepted Jildarin and Rylana before they could head to the dining room to speak with the landlord. Well-dressed in a mink-fur-collared frock coat, with his thick silver hair drawn back into a tail and his strong jaw artfully stubbled, he always blended in perfectly with the wealthy lords of Tranquility.

Far more drawn to Jildarin wandering around in his apron, Rylana backed out of Zilek’s way. The last time she’d spoken with him, Zilek had informed Jildarin that their aunt wanted him to kill Rylana. Since their surly relative had failed to slay Rylana herself, she’d apparently told her nephew to handle the job.

“Ah, there you are, my brother.” Zilek lifted a hand to pause them in the hallway. Two fat books—were those cookbooks?—were tucked under his arm. When Zilek looked at Rylana, a faintly amused smirk on his lips, she braced herself.

“Here I am.” Jildarin’s eyelids drooped.

He didn’t appear to be in the mood for whatever had prompted his brother to visit. Jildarin stepped closer to Rylana, his shoulder brushing hers. Maybe he also remembered the threat Zilek had issued.

“There’s no need for displeasure. I brought something delightful for you.” Zilek lifted the books. “An elven chef who attends the wine conclave gave these to me to lend to you. I’d mentioned your hope of enticing the queen to visit your diner while she’s in Tranquility. Her ship has arrived. Did you know?”

“Has it?” Jildarin’s eyebrows rose with interest.

Rylana suspected that whatever the landlord wanted would have to wait.

“Just this morning, yes. The elves in the enclave are atwitter. Except for the ones hunting the rogue assassin. They’re out en masse seeking her out.” Zilek looked at Rylana again. “I informed them that it’s unlikely she remains in the city.”

“That’s right,” Rylana said without hesitation.

“What are those books?” Jildarin asked. “Do they contain recipes favored by elves?”

“By elven royalty, I understand.” Zilek held out the thick tomes. “Dishes with a long history of tickling the tastebuds of even the most sophisticated elf of the purest lineage.”

“I’m not sure lineage plays that much into one’s food tastes.” Rylana thought of Chalora in the kitchen, noshing bacon.

“Those of pure bloodlines prefer only the freshest and finest of fare.” Zilek spoke as if he were an authority on the matter.

Jildarin accepted the cookbooks and opened the first to flip through. Rylana crooked her head so she could read the titles.