Bryl shrugged. “Harry Potter.”
“Oh, yeah,” the halfling said as she wrinkled her nose and let out a little chuckle. “It’s a good story.”
“But they didn’t get any of the magic parts right.”
Cheyenne laughed and covered it with a hand, rubbing her mouth. “Well, it’s made up. Kinda fun to think about things in a different way.”
“I guess…”
“Bryl, put that thing away and come help me set the table.” Yadje waved her daughter into the kitchen. With a small, knowing smile, the kid looked up at Cheyenne and tossed her book aside before going to help her parents.
Turning toward the kitchen, Cheyenne spread her arms and figured she might as well be a part of this while she was here. “I can help too.”
“Oh, no.” Yadje shook her head and pulled her daughter into the kitchen.
“Absolutely not.” R’mahr rounded the corner, waving his hands furiously like he was trying to flag somebody down on the highway. “No. The phér móre won’t lift a finger in our home.”
“You can just call me Cheyenne. Really.”
“The phér móre Cheyenne was not invited here to help. You’ve done that and more already.” R’mahr hurried toward her and settled his hands on her shoulders before steering her toward the wooden table with legs so thin, it didn’t look like it would be able to hold much of anything. He pulled out a chair and pointed. “You will sit right here.”
She didn’t try to fight him on that one and slowly lowered herself into the chair. It creaked and wobbled a little under her weight, and the halfling forced herself not to take up her usual position and lean all the way back with her feet stretched out in front of her under the table. I already broke too much of their stuff.
“We’ll take care of everything else.” R’mahr gave her a firm nod and hurried back into the kitchen.
A moment later, his wife stepped out into their makeshift dining room with a huge clay bowl piled high with something which looked like rice and noodles scrambled together, steam wafting off the top. She grinned and set the bowl in the center of the table, then disappeared again. Bryl brought out the next plate of what was maybe pita bread, only with purple streaks running down the sides of the still-warm pastry. The bowl R’mahr brought out next had vegetables Cheyenne recognized—bok choy and carrots and broccoli piled around something blue that couldn’t have possibly been grown in this world. The dishes seemed never-ending as the troll family brought out one after another. The halfling rubbed the side of her face and gave up on trying to give each of them a genuine smile when they came toward her from the kitchen.
Finally, when the wobbly table was sufficiently loaded with more food than they could possibly eat in one sitting, all three trolls moved quickly toward the other chairs around the table and slipped into them. Silence fell over the dining room. R’mahr and Yadje beamed at Cheyenne with pride. Bryl glanced at her parents and their guest, biting her purple lower lip to keep from laughing.
“Now.” Yadje took a deep breath and pulled herself up straighter in the chair. “Our phér móre first—”
“Cheyenne. Really.”
“Take whatever you like, and we’ll begin.” The troll woman gestured toward the overloaded table.
“Uh…” The halfling gazed at all the steaming dishes and lifted her shoulder in a hesitant shrug. “Was I supposed to bring the plates and silverware?”
R’mahr and Yadje burst out laughing, and Cheyenne couldn’t tell if it was forced amusement or if they genuinely thought she was making a joke. Apparently, my ignorance is showing.
A small, warm finger tapped her forearm on the table, and Bryl mimed scooping up the food. “With your hands.”
“Oh.” The halfling eyed the bowl of cooked vegetables and reached across the table to pull a carrot out of the pile. She stuck it in her mouth and almost choked on the heavy spices, but she managed to nod through her chewing as R’mahr and Yadje watched her like their lives depended on it. “Yeah, that’s good.”
Yadje smacked her husband’s arm with the back of her hand. “I told you she’d like it. You worry too much about everything and nothing.”
Laughing, R’mahr bobbed his head, picked up one of the pita-bread-looking things, then passed the plate of them toward his wife. Then all the hands were dipping into all the bowls, and Cheyenne tried not to frown. They think I know how this works.
“Look.” Bryl picked up a piece of bread and used it like a glove made of food. “Just do what I do.”
The halfling was more than happy to follow the lead of a six-year-old troll.
Chapter Eight
“Cheyenne, have some more borsni.” Yadje gestured toward the bowl of vegetables and the piles of blue something the halfling had avoided.
“No, thanks. I think I saw it glowing.”
“That’s where all the flavor is.” Bryl grabbed one of the blue veggies that looked like a bioluminescent turnip and took a huge bite. A bright light flashed in her mouth, and Cheyenne shook her head.
“You were talking about your town, though.” The halfling nodded at the troll couple and tore off another piece of bread that tasted a little like strawberries. “I wanna hear more about it.”
“It was a fine place,” R’mahr replied, nodding quickly. “Such a beautiful place in the Oronti Valley. So many radan with their bright coats. That’s how we used to get so much of the color for our houses, you know. Soak the radan pelts in river water, and you have the color to put on whatever you want. Here, I think you just buy it in cans.”
“Paint?”
“Yes. That’s it.”
“We were very happy there,” Yadje added. “The best place to
