Cheyenne scooped up another handful of the rice-noodle stuff—the trolls had had to assure her three times there was nothing alive in there when the noodles started moving on their own—and popped it all into her mouth. “So why did you leave?”
R’mahr paused with his hand halfway to his mouth, then jammed his next bite between his lips and avoided the question by chewing.
Yadje shared a glance with her husband and dipped her head. “It was no longer safe.”
“What happened?”
R’mahr swallowed thickly and sighed. “You know the Crown has different ideas of the places under their rule, Cheyenne. I doubt a single one of them ever made it out to Opéle to see our home for themselves, but they wanted it for the reaping all the same.”
“Sorry.” The halfling licked heavily spiced sauce off her lips. “I don’t know what that is.”
“Then you’re a very lucky phér móre.” Yadje gave her a stern look, then reached for more food. “We left before things became too difficult. I’m not sure many of the others were as prepared to do what was necessary.”
“You mean, crossing the Border.” Cheyenne looked back and forth between R’mahr and Yadje, neither of whom would look up at her as they kept chewing. That’s a definite yes.
“I thought it was fun.” Bryl brushed the shorter scarlet hairs away from her forehead, but they kept falling back into place. “An adventure. Just like Dahi said.”
“You were an excellent adventurer, Bryl.” R’mahr winked at his daughter, but the smile was just for show.
“We walked for days through the woods to get to the portal.” Bryl rested both elbows on the table and looked up at Cheyenne with wide scarlet eyes. “Built shelters every night. There wasn’t always water close by, but when we found the river, there was plenty to drink.”
“Really?” The halfling raised her eyebrows, waiting to hear more.
“Yeah, and that was the easy part.” The kid grinned and lifted both hands to animate her story. “The Border is like its own world. We had to say the spell on one side. I messed up, but Dahi reminded me. Then when you pass through, everything’s all dark everywhere you look. And there are these things that come out of the—”
“That’s enough, Bryl.” Yadje shot her daughter a warning look.
“But that’s the best part, Maji!”
“Your mother said enough, nin mel.” Now R’mahr shot the young girl the same look, and a bloom of dark purple spread across Bryl’s cheeks. “Cheyenne doesn’t want to hear about our journey through.”
His dark-red eyes flickered toward the halfling before he had to look away.
Rhynehart had said the crossing was rough. And they had done it with their kid.
Bryl bowed her head and dropped her hands into her lap, biting her lip to keep from saying anything else. There was a tense, awkward silence again, but this one wasn’t in anticipation of starting the meal.
Yadje took a sharp breath. “What did you think of the aesdur, Cheyenne?”
“Uh, which one was that?”
R’mahr let out a little chuckle as his wife pointed to a smaller dish of what looked like soup. The halfling had already figured out that when she touched the stuff, it hardened and drew itself into little round balls that tasted like chicken covered in chocolate.
“Right. Yeah, it was different.”
“I know.” The troll woman sighed and offered a shrug. “I always try to find the best ingredients to make the same meals from home. Peridosh has so many wonderful things, but they’re more focused on bringing in grog and fellwine and ingredients for spells than fresh O’gúleesh foods.”
Cheyenne couldn’t hold back a snort. “Did you say fellwine?”
R’mahr’s hand came down on the table, making the whole thing wobble dangerously on its thin legs. He got a silent reminder to watch himself from his wife’s quick glance. He ignored her. “You haven’t had fellwine?”
“Nope. Can’t say that I have.”
“Yadje, do you hear that? She’s never had fellwine!”
“I heard her say it the first time.” Yadje looked at the halfling and rolled her eyes.
“We can’t let her go any longer without tasting it.” The troll shook his head and puffed up his chest. “I told you we should have bought a flagon at Peridosh.”
“You say that every time, and we have more important things to spend our money on. You’re brain-addled enough as it is.”
R’mahr barked a laugh and clapped. “We’ll have to change that, Cheyenne.”
The halfling shrugged and couldn’t help but smile. “Sounds like fun.”
“Not for you or anyone around you the next morning,” Yadje added. “Have you been to Peridosh?”
“No.” They must think I live in a box. “Didn’t even know it existed.”
“Richmond’s very own O’gúl market.” Yadje licked the sauce from her fingers. “We try to make it out there once a week.”
“A magicals-only type of place.” R’mahr wiggled his eyebrows. “One of the only places we can get to these days where we don’t have to hide everything about who we are. It’s all out in the open at Peridosh, just like back home.”
Suddenly feeling a lot fuller than she’d thought, Cheyenne leaned slowly back in the chair and folded her arms. “That’s good to have around. How do they keep the place hidden?”
“Ha!” R’mahr gestured toward the halfling across the table and grinned at his wife. “She doesn’t know.”
“That settles it, then.” Yadje nodded at Cheyenne and grinned. “You should come with us the next time we go.”
“Wednesday!” R’mahr blinked, then turned toward his wife and leaned in. “That’s it, isn’t it?”
“Yes, R’mahr. We go on Wednesdays.”
“Wednesday!” The troll grabbed a heaping handful of the remaining blue borsni and shoveled it into his mouth, chewing with overexcited enthusiasm. “You’ll come with us, Cheyenne, and we’ll show you the best Peridosh has to offer.”
Yadje eyed the glowing bits of blue vegetable spilling from her husband’s mouth and shook her head. “He left his manners back in Ambar’ogúl with everything else.”
Cheyenne laughed as R’mahr waved off the insult.
“I’ll show you the potions tent,” Bryl exclaimed, gripping the edge of the
