“Meat loaf,” I explained. “Without bread crumbs. He keeps forgetting what they’re called.”
“Why don’t you just leave the planning to me? Here, I’ll leave the video for you. Maybe you two can watch it together and see what weddings are supposed to look like. Good luck on your trip.” Willard grabbed her exercise jacket and headed for the door. “Don’t piss off a dwarf king and get humans blacklisted from visiting their world.”
She paused to send a worried frown in my direction, and I could tell that she’d gone from joking to worrying that such an outcome was possible.
“I’ll be circumspect and polite,” I promised.
“You know how to do that?”
“Sure. My mom taught me when I was sitting on the naughty step.”
Willard’s you-are-extremely-strange expression was different from Amber’s but equally interpretable.
“A dwarf king should be honored to serve the mate of a dragon,” Zav said. “I will ensure it.”
“Don’t let him get us blacklisted either.” Willard pointed at Zav, then walked out.
“It is unlikely that humans will be invited to Dun Kroth under any circumstances,” Zav informed me.
“We’re already blacklisted, huh?” I checked my phone to make sure nobody important had messaged me and was putting it back in my pocket when it buzzed, not a text but a call. “Hey, Mom,” I answered, worry dropping into my gut like a rock.
I remembered how the elven assassin had made a point to let me know with his coin placement that he knew where my mother lived. What if this half-dwarven thief had also learned where she lived and threatened her in some way?
“Val,” Mom said, sounding a touch shaken. “You didn’t tell me the elves would be at your wedding. You didn’t tell me he was coming.”
“King Eireth? How’d you find out? Did he come to see you?” I grimaced, imagining how hard it would be for her to see Eireth looking exactly the same as he had when they’d been lovers, while she’d aged more than forty years.
“One of his scouts came to question me. He just left.”
I hadn’t expected that. Now I felt bad that I hadn’t warned her, but how could I have known Eireth would send a scout? And why now? The wedding was months away.
“What did he want?” I asked.
“To ask me questions. I… got the feeling he was doing a preliminary security check. To make sure it would be safe for Eireth to come to Earth.”
“And he checked you? Mom, half the ogres and trolls from the coffee shop are threatening to come, not to mention Zav’s family, if he can get them to. What does he think a barefoot woman in her seventies is going to do?”
“I just turned seventy, Val,” she said tartly.
“Doesn’t that make you in your seventies?”
“No. In your seventies refers to someone of seventy-five or six. Much older than me.”
“My apologies, Mother. You are clearly still middle-aged.” I nobly resisted adding the line for a tree. “Did you pass the interview? Did he say if he would be interviewing the ogres at the coffee shop that Zav invited?”
“Why would your dragon invite ogres?”
“He’s inviting everyone. He seems quite pleased to let the world know that we’re getting married in the human way.”
Zav lifted his chin. “Yes. Your employer also informed me that it is typical for guests to bring wedding presents.”
I stared at him. “Is that why you’re inviting everyone? What kinds of presents could you possibly want? You’re an all-powerful dragon who can use his magic to poof things into existence.”
“The ogres may bring interesting prey to hunt. The goblins may build a bubbling hot-water box for our domicile—you have not acquired one for us on your own yet. One of the trolls is a cobbler and has noticed my interest in human footwear. He may know how to satisfy a dragon’s preferences more than a human shoe peddler.”
I made a mental note to go hot-tub shopping before Zav could ask any goblins to make one for us. I’d already seen what their handiwork created. I refused to sit in water heated by open flames.
“Val,” Mom said quietly, the tartness replaced by something less certain. “Do you truly think Eireth will come? I… know he is married now and there won’t be anything between us, but… I don’t know. I would like to see him, but I’m also apprehensive about seeing him. Does that make sense?”
“Yes. I think he’ll come. Once, he offered to wed Zav and me in the elven way. It’s too bad he can’t do it in the human way. I’d rather have him than Willard’s priest who officiates over quirky weddings. I have no idea what that means, but he can’t possibly have experience with dragons, ogres, and trolls.”
Eireth wouldn’t bat an eye at ogre or troll guests; I was positive.
“You wish your father to wed us?” Zav asked.
“I don’t think that would work. It might be legitimate in the eyes of other elves, but here on Earth, you have to have be ordained.”
“How does one become ordained?”
“Uhm, good question. Probably by being a citizen of Earth first.” I ran an internet search while Mom murmured worried sentences about how disappointed Eireth would be to see how old she’d gotten, and what if his wife was snooty and rude to her? Maybe she shouldn’t come at all.
The mutterings were more to herself than to me, but I tried to be encouraging. “He’s a king, Mom. He’ll be diplomatic and friendly and give you a big hug. I’m sure of it.” I decided not to mention that the wife was snooty and rude, or had been when she’d considered me a suspect in the poisoning of Eireth. With luck, she wouldn’t come.
“I hope so,” she said. “I do want to see him. I think.”
“He’ll want to see you.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that.”
“Trust me. He likes you a lot more than me. I’m mouthy and weird. Just ask Amber.”
“She’s already informed me of that.”
“Imagine that. Bye, Mom. Let me know if anyone else shows up to pester you in your cabin in the woods.”
After she hung up, I read the search results. “In Washington, any ordained or licensed clergyman or justice of the peace may officiate a wedding.”
“A clergyman is a religious leader?” Zav asked.
“Yeah.”
“King Eireth is a religious leader among the elven people.”
“There’s not going to be a checkbox for the elven religion. I suppose we could just fill out a marriage application online ahead of time and then it wouldn’t matter who officiated. I haven’t quite figured out how we’re going to explain your… nationality.” I studied his face. “Can you make yourself a fake ID?”
He tilted his head.
“Never mind.” I put my phone away and patted him on the chest. “Let’s go find some dwarves. The sooner we find Chopper’s secrets, the sooner I can come back and figure out how to make you a sword-shaped meat loaf.”
His face brightened. “Excellent.”
11