Page 89 of Morel Dilemma

Jildarin walked first to the queen, setting down plates for her and Sylin. As they considered them, he went into a lengthy explanation on the meal, including how and when the precious morels had been found. Rylana thought he might leave out that a dog had been integral in locating them, especially when he digressed to speak of the dragon battle that had left charred trees in its wake and created an appealing environment for mushrooms to sprout. But he surprised her by finishing with pointing to the gnomes and the hound with a flourish.

“Through the use of that log-inspecting hound, we were able to locate the magical morels. That is, of course, the reason such a creature has been honored by being permitted to dine here. It is not our policy to serve canines.” Ah, he wasn’t so much giving the dog credit as explaining her presence.

Rylana didn’t point out that Fareesa had been indifferent to the hound.

“I look forward to trying your dish, Lord— Chef Jildarin,” the queen said.

“Excellent.” He inclined his head toward her.

Rolf, Zalani, and Gniknik carried dishes to the other diners.

“When will there be openings?” someone called up from the bottom of the stairs.

Someone else said, “I can’t wait to try that coffee.”

“Oh.” Tezilly must have caught the comment because she filled a tray with samples and descended the stairs. “Mind the till,” she called back to Brella.

As the taste-testing elf stepped forward to sample from the queen’s dish, Jildarin squinted, probably offended that anyone would suspect him of serving poison. Understandable. He hadn’t even been willing to serve an overabundance of enchanted morels.

After Zalani finished delivering plates, she paused near Rylana on her way back to the stairs. “Do you know how long the queen will be here? People want to come up and try the coffee, but there are a couple of crabby elves down there forbidding anyone else from visiting the rooftop. There also aren’t any tables available in the dining room, because the other elves are taking up so many of them. There’s a line of customers at the door, eager for everything on the flier and more.”

“I don’t know how long, no, but Sylin isn’t one for lengthy conversations under any circumstances.”

Rylana had moved too far away from the queen’s table to hear their discussion, but Sylin hadn’t relaxed. That might have been because she was sitting in a chair—something she almost never did—and found the experience uncomfortable, but Rylana suspected it was the situation at large that had her poised to flee at any moment. Fareesa was doing most of the talking. With her hand gestures, she seemed to be telling a story. The one she’d shared with Rylana already of how and why Sylin had been swept away and lost all those years ago? Sylin appeared to be listening, and she sipped from her coffee samples, but her back remained rigid.

“I’ve told people there are plenty of mushrooms and coffee,” Zalani said, “but diners aren’t always patient.”

“If they have to wait too long,” Rolf said, joining them, “they may be too disgruntled to leave suitable goblin tips.”

“Yes, that was my primary concern.” Zalani managed a smile, but she looked tense too. All the armed elves around had everyone on edge.

After Rolf and Gniknik trotted down the stairs to collect more trays, Zalani remained. She lowered her voice and said, “Chef Jildarin also seemed a little impatient before we came up—or maybe agitated is the right word. It was when he was ladling up dishes and serving them to the elves in the dining room. I’m not sure any of them noticed, but I’ve worked with him for months now, so I caught it as atypical for him. Do you know why he would be upset? He was muttering to himself now and then, and I caught your name. Also something about elven factions and politics.”

“I…” Before Rylana could formulate an answer, Jildarin, apparently satisfied that the queen had taken her first bite and nodded to him, turned toward the stairs. “I guess we can ask him ourselves.”

“I’ll let you handle that.” Zalani descended first.

As Jildarin approached, Rylana noticed Tassani was looking toward the rooftop of a warehouse on the block behind Acorn Street. Full darkness had descended, and she didn’t see anything over there, but she remembered the shadowy elves she’d spotted earlier.

“The elves in the diner below are enjoying their mushroom meals,” Jildarin told Rylana.

“That’s good. Was there something bothering you about them?” she asked.

He again gave her what she interpreted as a significant look, but she didn’t know what it meant.

“Are they enjoying the food?” she asked.

“Evidently, though many of them are glancing toward the exit and also the stairs visible out the side window. They seemed agitated. Or maybe anticipatory.”

“They’re technically on duty, I suppose.” Rylana looked toward Tassani again.

He hadn’t moved, and his hand was resting on the hilt of his sword. And were his fingers starting to work on the tranquility knot?

“They are here, they informed me, in case anything unexpected happens while the queen is dining. I would not have thought anything of their comments, but…” Jildarin looked sidelong at her. “Because of what you said earlier, I was more alert and attentive to the body language of the elves than usual.”

“Oh?” Rylana lifted a finger, trying to get Tassani’s attention, but he was looking at another shadowy rooftop now.

He continued to subtly work at the tranquility knot, and he whispered something, calling a couple of his warriors to him. His most trusted warriors?