"You try, no charge," Flyer apparently knew this customer. He smiled and nodded as I placed the bowl in front of him, using my broth and the noodles we'd made.
"Mmm. Mmmmm. Yes. Flyer, this your best ever," the customer was eating quickly. Flyer was now studying me carefully.
"Where you learn to cook?" he asked.
"My family owned restaurants," I told him the truth. "I've just never made rice noodles before."
"You like job?" he asked. "Last helper go off to army."
"Maybe," I smiled at Flyer.
That's how I ended up working a food stall with Flyer. He was older—nearing one hundred eighty turns. Gray was finding its way into his hair, and while he was normally busy, we were even more so when I showed him how to take good chunks of beef, braise it and slice it thin as a whisper before dripping sauce over it. We served that with a bowl of noodles for an additional charge. People would line up during mealtimes just to get that.
Since Flyer's business was a permanent building, he lived in an apartment above the restaurant. Normally he kept the inside portion closed during spring and summer months, but we opened it up when business threatened to block the narrow street outside. My only complaint was that we had to deal solely with river-caught fish—there was no ocean nearby and Falchan still relied mostly on ground transportation. I would see the occasional horse and rider go past the restaurant. Still, the river fish was good—I designed a special sauce for it with the available ingredients, along with a light, fish stew.
"I not like fish much before," Flyer said.
"It has to be cooked right away," I said. They also didn't have much in the way of refrigeration. Flour was also difficult to come by—it was grown on plains far from Cedar's Falls. Flyer said that we might get some at a good price when the harvest started. I nodded my understanding—flour was a precious commodity on Falchan.
Two months went by and I found I was happy. It was a pleasure to wake inside my tiny bedroom that Flyer had cleared out for me over his restaurant. The room was included as part of my pay, he said. He was also fascinated by the fact that I never needed a bathroom. "Some races are like this," I explained. He nodded. Flyer was a wise man, I decided. Had seen much of life and it gave him a patient perspective.
The late summer afternoon was winding down and Flyer and I were preparing pans of noodles when we heard screams outside and then a shadow darkened the street.
"What the f**k," I muttered, setting my pan of noodles on the counter and rushing out the door. What I saw infuriated me.
"No," Flyer whispered right beside me. A huge pirate ship floated overhead. Right then, I was thankful it was only one.
"Flyer, if I don't come back, I loved working with you." I kissed him hastily on the cheek and skipped away right in front of his eyes.
This was a first—skipping inside a moving vehicle. It turned out to be a simple thing. Pirates, if they are unprepared, are easily taken down. There had to be around a hundred or so and they were concentrating on powering up the Ranos cannon, readying their ship to take Falchan away from its people. I could only change to my smaller Thifilatha—the ship's ceilings were too low to do anything else. They thought to attack me by hand.
That, of course, was a mistake. If they touched me, they burned. Burned as if acid had been poured on their skin. I watched their flesh melt with satisfaction. Greed and subjugation were their only goals; I was showing them how to die instead. When they ran before me, after I'd smashed the console controlling the Ranos cannon, I chased or skipped after them. In half a click or less, all were dead. Now, I faced the problem of a floating, directionless ship that hovered over Falchan.
In all the vids I'd seen, the ship always had some sort of self-destruct that the hero employed to get rid of the nuisance. This had no such thing. Now what? I had none of Lissa's ability to turn the thing to mist and destroy it in that way. What could I do? The people below were likely still screaming and frightened. Therefore, I did the only thing I could think of.
Dragon? The former Warlord had never gotten mindspeech from me. Probably didn't know I had it. Hoping he wasn't engaged in something important, I'd decided to contact him. If he couldn't help, perhaps he could tell me what to do instead.
Reah, I never thought to hear from you. Many search for you—where are you?
On a pirate ship floating over Falchan, I replied. I killed the pirates, now I don't know what to do with the ship.
A comforting mental chuckle came through, making me sigh and relax my shoulders. I hadn't been sure of a welcome, or if he'd respond at all. He was beside me in moments.
"Change back, I'll get us off and then send it far enough away that they won't see when I destroy it," he grinned. He Pulled clothing from somewhere so I could dress quickly, then folded us to the ground. I watched, standing beside the First among the Saa Thalarr, while the ship disappeared. "It's dust now," Dragon looked down at me and smiled.
"Reah?" Flyer came up beside me. "What you are, Reah?" Flyer looked worried.
"She's High Demon, sir cook," Dragon said in Falchani. I understood that much, at least. "Reah killed your attackers. Those won't bother you again."
"You look familiar," Flyer squinted at Dragon.
"The Dragon Warlord, at your service," Dragon inclined his head and disappeared.
"Flyer, do not have a heart attack," I said as he clutched his chest. As it turned out, that wasn't why he gripped the front of his shirt.
"The Dragon Warlord," Flyer said reverently.
"Absolutely," I sighed. "Never mind that Falchan just got saved by a High Demon; that was the Dragon Warlord." I took Flyer's arm and steered him toward his shop.
"Reah, where you go?" Flyer watched as I packed my bag.
"Flyer, I hate to leave, but you will likely have about a dozen visitors in very little time. All looking for me. No, I'm not a criminal," I held out a hand at his worried expression. "I have mates, I guess. And they tend to show up if they know where I am. Just feed them a bowl of noodles and charge them double." Bag in hand, I kissed Flyer's cheek for the second time that day and skipped away from Falchan.
"Are you kidding?" Gavril got the news from Drew. "Your father saw her there?"
"She killed a ship full of pirates who were armed with a Ranos cannon. Dad can't lie, you know. Well, neither can we." Drew grinned. "Dad got rid of the ship for her—she didn't know what to do with it afterward."