Page 68 of Ale Storm

“Sorry. I was trying to find answers.”

“At the bottom of four mugs of ale?”

Shalikon gave the horn back to Rylana while managing to keep Chalora’s hand in his grasp. She didn’t try to extract it and was giving the half-dwarf a fond look.

“If it detects poison,” Rylana said, “I can see why it would be useful, especially to a monarch, but I’m not sure why it would have played a role in choosing one of three triplet heirs to rule their kingdom.”

Shalikon’s bushy eyebrows rose.

Rylana waved at Sylin, and she summed up what she’d learned in the history book.

“I do recall that there were royal triplet princes in the Ironhelm Kingdom some centuries ago, any one of whom could have ruled.” Shalikon tapped his jaw. “It could be the magic of the horn has more properties than detecting poison. Maybe it also glows if someone is being blessed or chosen by the gods.”

“Is it possible that the dwarven heir who was chosen had poison in his house when his mother visited?” Chalora asked. “Maybe he intended to be named the next king one way or another.”

“By getting rid of his two brothers?” Shalikon asked. “Anything is possible. Those were somewhat ruthless times.”

“Wouldn’t the dwarven queen have known that the horn glowing indicated poison?” Rylana asked.

“The history books may not tell the whole story,” Shalikon said. “It’s also possible that the horn’s abilities and purpose were forgotten for a time and that it was simply being handed down from generation to generation as an heirloom. There was some strife and reformation in the Ironhammer Kingdom during that era. Some books were burned, and knowledge was lost. Maybe King Ekton will know more. You said he’s visiting your diner?”

“To get this, yes.” Rylana held up the horn. “Though Jildarin is planning to make him a special dish. You don’t happen to know his favorite foods, do you?” She asked it lightly, not expecting a half-elf living in Tranquility to have had any interactions with the dwarven king.

But Shalikon laughed and nodded. “He loves rockballs in gravy. I witnessed him eating the dish often when I used to be a diplomat and traveled between the dwarven capital and the elven court. That was before the Ore War. Our two peoples don’t host many of each other’s diplomats now, alas. Too bad. I adore rockballs too.”

“What are rockballs?” Rylana asked. “Are those like meatballs?”

“Yes, but heavier and with more alcohol mixed in.”

“I don’t think meatball recipes usually employ alcohol at all,” Rylana said.

“Hence their inferiority.” Shalikon winked. “Dwarves enjoy a little ale or bourbon or just about any alcohol, even elven wine, mixed into their meals as well as served in mugs beside it. I think bison might be the base meat I heard the king request most often for his rockballs, but he likes all manner of fish and seafood too. Those are exotic fares to people who live mostly underground lives.”

“I’ll pass that information along to Jildarin.”

“If he makes the dish, feel free to have him send some leftover rockballs up here.” Shalikon touched his chest.

“With a side of bacon,” Chalora added.

Shalikon beamed a smile of approval at her while pulling her hand to his chest. Chalora smiled back at him and stepped closer.

“Thank you for the information,” Rylana said.

Since neither elf nor half-elf answered or were looking at her, she headed for the path they’d taken on the way in. Judging by the warmth of their gazes, Chalora and Shalikon might wander off to enjoy each other’s company in the grove.

“I didn’t know the plant master was of an age to crave garden trysts,” Rylana said as Sylin caught up with her.

“Shalikon’s magic is powerful and a little intriguing,” Sylin said. “Though not quite as much as a dragon’s.”

“You’re not pining for Zilek as we speak, are you?”

“I am not. But I assume you pine hourly for your dragon.”

“At least.” Rylana smiled, only partially joking.

“Maybe when you tell him about the king’s favorite dish, he’ll be moved to ardor.”

“I don’t know. He’s good at restraining himself. Though he has developed a new fascination for boobs. That might move things along.” Rylana made the comments in an offhand way, but the memory of Jildarin’s explorations that morning swept into her. Too bad he was now distracted by researching dwarven meals.