Page 76 of Morel Dilemma

Rylana turned, half-hoping her brother had changed his mind and come back to barter for the horn, but Mya stood in the doorway, crooking a finger in invitation.

“Someone wants to see you,” Mya whispered when Rylana joined her.

“Does the someone who wants to see me think I should sneak some coffee samples to her so she doesn’t have to show up for the elven dinner?”

“That may be a possibility, yes.”

Rylana headed into the bakery, passing a couple of people arguing over selections in the clear case up front, and climbed to the attic. The trapdoor hung open in invitation.

With the flier in hand, Rylana stepped inside. In the cluttered bookcase- and equipment-filled space, it took her a moment to spot her comrade. Sylin leaned against the wall near the back window that overlooked the alley. The window facing the street—and the Dragon Diner—was shuttered.

“Is that a to-do list for your dragon chef to complete before elven royalty descends on his diner?” Sylin pointed at the flier.

“No, this is about the exotic coffee samples that will be shared tonight at the diner.”

Sylin lifted a hand toward it. “Brella and Tezilly are going through with hosting their tasting there?”

“On the terrace. As I told you, Jildarin seeks to lure you over so that your presence will in turn lure the queen.”

“I’m impressed he’s paid enough attention to me and what I like to know that coffee might work. Does he even know my name?”

“Both of your names, yes. Sylinesla.”

Sylin made a face. “I’m still skeptical I am who the queen thinks I am.”

“I’d say you should come to the diner tonight to speak with her and find out, but it might not be safe. If the queen does come, she’ll have guards with her. They should be loyal to her and not that Shaldona family or any other agenda, but who can know for certain?”

“Nobody until the arrow flies toward their heart.” Sylin stepped forward and took the flier from her. “Is the queen coming?”

“I think she might.”

Sylin held the flier up to the meager light slanting in through the back window.

“Oh!” Sylin blurted with uncharacteristic excitement in her voice. Usually dry and deadpan, she rarely showed emotion at all, much less excitement. “Oh, Rylana. Why did you bring this?”

“The flier? I thought you would be curious.”

“Are you part of the ensnaring?”

“No. I don’t think you should come. I mean, I want you to connect with your mother, but I think you should sneak into the enclave and visit her when nobody is paying attention and her guards aren’t around.”

“When you’re royalty, guards are always around.” Sylin’s hand strayed to the shoulder where she’d been injured the other day. “Trust me.”

“I guess you of all people would know.” Rylana thought about asking if Sylin had ever been ordered to assassinate royalty or a president or another head of state, but did Rylana truly want to know? “Why don’t you tell me which of the samples you’re aching to taste, and I’ll either get some and put it in your thermos or ask Tezilly to save some beans so she can make them for you another time. You’re an excellent customer; they should be willing to accommodate you. In fact, they’ve already proven they will.” Rylana pointed through the wall in the direction of the rooftop chair seated above the coffee shop.

“I believe they would save me some, yes.” Sylin gazed toward the wall, but then shifted toward the street, or… was she perhaps facing in the direction of the elven enclave? “I wasn’t entirely honest with you when we spoke before. I am… I don’t know. Curious, I suppose. I have a few vague memories of the time before I ended up in the forest with the wolves.” Sylin groped in the air beside her temple, as if she were trying to recollect something. “I remember… a place more than faces, than people. Trees, homes in and around the trunks, a network of platforms and vine-and-plank bridges strung from great evergreen to evergreen. But I’ve wondered… if I saw the queen’s face, and it turned out I had seen her before, maybe I would remember more.”

“Even if she employed a nanny, I trust you saw her from time to time, yes. If only when you came out of the birth canal.”

That comment earned a sour look from Sylin. “An event that oddly didn’t imprint itself in my brain at that age.”

“Strange.”

Sylin looked at the flier and sighed. “I admit I’m suffering from a very silly emotion of wanting to be there for the unveiling and sampling. Not simply having the brews dumped into a thermos to wait hours before finding their way into my mouth. Besides, I only have one thermos. You can’t mix three different varieties of coffee.”

“No, I believe the divine web of the universe threatens to rip asunder if such monumental gaffes are made.”

“I don’t know why I try to talk about coffee to someone who dumps milk and sugar into hers. You wouldn’t notice if your beans were pulverized by an ogre with a club and filtered through moss.”