Page 89 of I Ran Away to Evil 2
“We’re heading out again tomorrow, so I’ve plenty of time to figure it out while we travel.” I ignored his last comment. “Who knows, maybe Gerda will portal us to Peldeep so I can get this over and done with faster.”
“Speaking of Gerda.” Keith glanced down at the last page in the pile of pages I’d handed the man.
“Ah yes,” I stood up, taking off my tiny glasses, rubbing them clean, then slipping them back into their case. I moved them into my spatial ring instead of my pocket, where I’d broken many a pair of spectacles before. I said, “ She’ll need another audit. I’ll leave you to it.”
“What—”
“We’re leaving early tomorrow and I’ve got to pack.” I ran for the door, hiding a grin. I had no idea what time we were actually leaving.
The king cursed aloud behind me. It was the little things, such as crushing your boss with menial tasks and paperwork, that made life worth living.
That and music, of course.
Speaking of which, I should send a cast to the fan club notifying them that Minstrel Bronwynn’s next public performance in Peldeep was on schedule. It had been a while since I’d seen Ross or Frida, and it would be nice to catch a few drinks before the show.
I took my task as leader of Bronwynn’s fan club very seriously, and everyone on the list was going to get a message on their crystal shard.
There was going to be a lot to tell the news group, though I wouldn’t reveal my identity under the pain of death …
I didn’t want to get eaten alive by my fellow fans.
Figuratively or literally.
CHAPTER 54
Does He Know?
Brownie
The gentle aroma of simmering strawberry syrup filled the troll’s cottage.
Henrietta was telling us about her duel with General Knolith as she used her crushing Strength sixty to whip the unigoat cheese into a creamy, fluffy texture that looked like pillowing clouds. The lizardkin had gone straight to the castle after checking in on Kith Bog … and one thing had led to another until they’d had an official duel. She’d defeated him, of course.
Gerda was listening intently while she mixed spices in a mortar. They would go into a bowl of crumbled—also by Henrietta—crackers that were going to act as the base of the cake.
Brownie was using her [Knife Play] to cut all of the remaining strawberries into the shape of rosebuds. They’d saved the tiniest berries to use as decorations, and Brownie was proud that her small flowers were turning out so cute.
“Knolith,” Brownie smiled wryly, “is an … interesting lizardkin.”
Gerda burst into laughter. “You mean he’s a pompous, self-assured, young-master type who’s reaching for the heavens?”
“Yes.” Brownie chuckled. “That.”
Gerda shook her head. “At least he’s easy to work with; he simply pays me to cross my bridge. It makes everything a lot easier.”
Brownie raised her eyebrows. “You mean he wasn’t personally offended by you barring his path?”
“He’s a good guy; it just took him a while to figure things out. Or in his case, figure out he shouldn’t bother wasting both of our time.” Gerda finished adding her last spice, an anise seed, and grabbed her pestle. “It took him a few hours the first time.”
The pounding of the mortar and pestle filled the room for long enough to create a pause in their conversation. Brownie wondered if she was being too harsh on the General of the East.
“I’ve whipped the two pounds of cheese, a cup of sugar, a cup of soured cream, a squeeze of lemon juice, and one floofpoof egg.” Henrietta put down her bowl beside Gerda. “Am I missing anything?”
The troll scooped a dollop of fluffy cheese onto her finger and tasted it. Her face relaxed in appreciation, and she moved to wash her hand at the sink. “It’s perfect, though I’m tempted to add another half an egg … It’ll be fine.”
“Wonderful! Then I’ll fix us another cup of nettle tea.” Henrietta wandered to the counter designated entirely for the various jars of tea, honey, and tisanes Gerda had collected. Tiny, adorable teaspoons with mushroom motifs hung on a wall frame above the counter.
“What does the recipe say to do next?” Gerda asked. She was mixing her spices into the crackers.
