Page 10 of Ale Storm

Zilek and Jildarin sat at a back table near the swinging door to the kitchen. Jildarin had his book open, his finger touching a page as he looked intently from it to Zilek and back again. Asking his brother’s opinion on something in the text? The text on humans?

Zilek grinned broadly and thrust his arm into the air above the table. The gesture looked sexual, but maybe Rylana was mistaken. Maybe that motion indicated something to do with dragon flight or landing. But Jildarin wouldn’t have met with his brother to ask for advice on those topics.

“Spying on dragons generally isn’t wise,” Sylin said but didn’t move away.

“Zalani already mentioned that.”

“Yet here you are.”

“I want to make sure Zilek isn’t giving his brother bad advice.”

“If they’re discussing dating you, Zilek is definitely giving bad advice.”

“Is that what they’re talking about? Can you hear them through the window?” Rylana would have believed it since elves had keen hearing.

“No, but I’m fluent in lewd gestures.”

“Two hells.”

Zilek, perhaps sensing an elf in the street, looked in their direction. Rylana sprang to the side of the window and out of his view.

Sylin didn’t. She bared her teeth at him.

The sound of laughter in a familiar baritone floated out as someone opened the door to walk out.

“It sounds like Zilek is looking forward to your date,” Rylana said.

The departing patron held the door open for Sylin, but she shook her head. “Our meeting isn’t for another ten minutes. If you’re going to spy, you’ve got time.”

Sylin extended her hand toward the alley.

Rylana hesitated. “Didn’t you advise against that?”

“Yes, but you won’t heed my sage counsel.”

Rylana thought about walking straight in and sitting down at a table near the dragons. In the past, Zilek had spoken while she was in earshot—about sex, her feminine appeal, and her ability to be a good servant—so it wasn’t as if he would avoid the topic if she could hear. If that was the subject matter, however, Jildarin might be more reserved.

“I’ll only spy for a minute,” Rylana decided.

“I assumed,” Sylin said.

Rylana stuck her tongue out at her, then trotted down the alley to the coffee shop’s back door. If the dragons’ discussion didn’t have anything to do with her, she would leave them be, but she had a hunch…

When she knocked, a bemused Tezilly, with soapy hands, let her into the small kitchen. Most of the space in the rear of the shop was devoted to a storeroom piled high with magical gnomish storage containers that kept beans imported from the south fresh. Brella was manning the espresso machine, and Tezilly returned to washing dishes.

“Are Zilek and Jildarin still in there?” Rylana whispered when Vilma, their half-gnome assistant, entered the kitchen with empty mugs.

“Yes.” Vilma pointed through the door toward the corner table. “Chef Jildarin is refusing to order any flavored water, as he calls it, but since Zilek has imbibed two coffees and tips generously, we’re not asking his brother to leave.”

“Also because he’s a dragon?”

“That may have influenced our decision as well.”

“I have no trouble booting out non-paying customers of any species,” Brella said, “but the pompous brother does tip well.”

“You don’t think Jildarin is pompous too?” Tezilly took the mugs to the sink to wash.

“Not as pompous,” Brella said.