Page 86 of Morel Dilemma

“That dog had better not mistake the moss floor up there for an area to attend to biological needs,” Jildarin said darkly.

“Don’t worry. I was just discussing with someone how moss is a natural filter.”

That earned her an even darker look. Face flinty, he didn’t look pleased by the development. He doubtless hadn’t intended for Bixtok to come to receive his compensatory meals on the same night the queen was visiting.

“I thought the gnomes would be good to have here as additional security in case something happens,” she said, feeling the need to explain, though he probably didn’t realize she’d specifically invited them.

“That gnome and that dog are not warriors.”

“I’m sure Bixtok has had the mandatory peacekeeper training, and the others have devices for summoning golems if need be.”

Jildarin let out a sigh that sounded like a growl. A very dragonish growl.

Deciding she had best not irk her partner anymore that evening, Rylana followed Aztor and the gnomes up to the rooftop. She would let Jildarin handle greeting and schmoozing the queen. Rylana would simply brace herself to handle security—and hope that she had the means to do so.

As she rounded the corner, the tulip carriage, drawn by white stallions led by a unicorn, came into view as it turned up Acorn Street. Jildarin stepped out to wait and personally attend to the queen.

Rylana climbed the stairs to the rooftop terrace, numerous visitors and more elves than she could count standing or sitting in the area, many with sample cups of coffee in hand. Those elves had shooed the visitors away from a table set under one corner of the pergola, and they gazed with stone faces at Rylana.

Pretending not to see them, she smiled and joined Brella and Tezilly at the bar. The two women were busy pouring coffee and handing out samples and little cards with tasting notes.

As the cool gazes of the elves remained on Rylana, she couldn’t help but worry that she wouldn’t have the means to handle security and that three gnomes wouldn’t be of sufficient help. All she could hope was that, if some of the elves did ignore Tassani’s orders and attack, it wouldn’t be that many of them. Ideally, most would be loyal to him, to the queen, and to the queen’s desire to meet her long-lost daughter.

25

Escorted by elven warriors, and with Captain Tassani at her side, Queen Fareesa climbed to the rooftop terrace. She wore an elegant blue dress with a green belt reminiscent of a vine—maybe it was a vine—and a coordinating veil and slippers. With easy grace, she glided across the mossy slate tiles to the large table in the corner of the pergola that had been left clear, nearby tables pushed away so nobody could encroach. Nobody except her plethora of pointy-eared bodyguards.

On the way to the table, Fareesa paused to consider the gnomes and their hound seated in a corner overlooking the street. Fortunately, Willow was lying down and enjoying a bone that someone had given her, not maligning the moss or doing anything else unacceptable. She flapped her tail on the tiles a few times at the queen’s look but was mainly focused on the bone.

Not showing any sign of being offended by a canine presence in the dining area, Fareesa sat at her table. None of the elves accompanying her presumed to perch on the other chairs surrounding it.

Rylana was surprised that Layothlee and a bunch of ladies in waiting—or the elven equivalent—hadn’t come along. When Fareesa gazed toward the rooftop of the coffee shop, Rylana suspected someone had told her Sylin hung out up there from time to time. Maybe Fareesa hadn’t invited elven dinner companions along because she hoped for a private meeting with her daughter.

The queen lifted her veil, tucked it back into a leaf-inspired tiara, and looked at Rylana. Was there a question in her deep green eyes?

“Do you think the elf queen wants coffee?” Tezilly whispered, holding a trio of the special offerings in small cups on a tray.

Brella was taking similar trays to the gnomes as well as a pair of dwarves who’d snagged a table near them. All the seating areas close to the queen were claimed by her own people, creating a barrier between her and the riffraff. Or, more likely, the unknown and untested, as Captain Tassani would consider everyone except perhaps the peacekeepers. His face was tense, his shoulders tenser. Had he heard any more whispered comments to reinforce his feeling of unease?

“I’ll check.” Rylana held out her hands for the tray, then walked the samples over to the table. “Good evening, Your Highness. I’m sure Chef Jildarin told you, but he’s honored that you came and is preparing the promised enchanted morels.”

“He mentioned that, yes.” Fareesa smiled. “Those mushrooms have been quite the talk of the elven enclave. Don’t let the stern faces of my escort alarm you. Many have been by and tried Lord Jildarin’s other dishes previously and expressed enthusiasm about them. I told my captain that I wouldn’t mind if some of his warriors partook of the fare in the dining room below.”

At a finger twitch from Tassani, one of the elves stepped forward to sip from the three coffee cups that Rylana had set down. Once he’d finished, he rotated them so the sides his lips had besmirched wouldn’t be toward the queen. The act had the air of a ritual. Maybe that guy had come along on the ship and was the official taster as well as a bodyguard.

“Is an interest in the mushrooms why so many elves came to escort you, Your Highness?” Rylana asked once he’d stepped back. “I’m sure the captain wanted you to be protected from danger when in the city, but nobody is armed in Tranquility, aside from the peacekeepers, and I’m concerned that…” Rylana, aware of the nearby guards listening—even if none were so brazen as to look at the queen’s table during this conversation—lowered her voice. “Sylin was thinking of coming, but I suspect she’ll see all this and believe it’s a trap. She doesn’t trust the local elves from the enclave.” Technically, Sylin didn’t trust any elves, but Rylana decided not to insult the queen by saying that.

“I understand they’ve been looking for her.”

“With weapons, yes.”

“Jildarin did explain that, while he believed she would come tonight, it was not a guarantee. He said the best a dragon could do was throw out a lure and hope to bring in game.”

“He did arrange the right lure. Trust me.” Rylana gestured to more coffee samples being poured at the bar.

Tezilly offered some of the standing elves cups. Most declined, but a couple, after glances at their captain, accepted the samples.

Rylana thought about waving for Tezilly to take her beverages to the non-elves present. The last thing they needed was for Tassani’s troops to be more caffeinated and alert. She’d been hoping to overdose them with morels to achieve the opposite effect.