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was
also relieved to see that Tieran was so warmly welcomed in the kitchen.
Of course, he'd be a fool to get on the bad side of the College's best
cook-and
it was becoming clear to Emorra that Tieran was no fool.
"Wait a minute," she said aloud. "Those are your meringues?"
Tieran nodded.
"They're good." Emorra gave him a longer, more appraising look. "You can
cook,
clean, teach-"
"No more hot boxes," Alandro interrupted her, pointing to two trays.
"Yes, the last of the thermal units cracked yesterday," Moira agreed sadly.
"That's why I've put your soup in small bowls and made sandwiches. If you lot
want hot food from now on, you'll have to eat in the hall."
"Are there any of the thermos flasks left?" Tieran asked. "It gets very cold
on
the top of the Drum Tower at night."
"I imagine it does," Moira agreed. "There are two, but they're both
reserved."
She smiled at Emorra. "One's for you, Dean, and the other's for your mother."
Tieran nodded as he picked up a tray. Emorra picked up the second one.
"Maybe you could rig up a fire," Emorra suggested as they made their way out
of
the College toward the Drum Tower.
"There's no place for it," Tieran replied. "Besides, I think it would be a
fair
bit of work to haul wood up every evening."
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"Lazy!" Emorra teased. "Well, it's your bones that'll freeze."
The tower grew in Emorra's eyes as they approached it; she was always used to
seeing it from the distance of the College. They walked and climbed in
companionable silence until they were halfway up the steps wrapped around the
outside of the tower and Emorra paused, gasping for breath.
"And this is why I'll keep my bones cold, thank you," Tieran said, pointing
at
the stairway and grinning as he waited for her to recover her breath.
"Yes, I can see that it would be a chore," Emorra agreed at last. Much more
slowly they completed their ascent.
"Rodar, Jendel, we're here!" Tieran called as he crested the stairs.
"You're late!" Jendel retorted. "I just hope the food's good."
"It's cold," Emorra said as she set the tray down on the only table
available.
"That's nothing new," Rodar said, jumping up to help her.
"Where's Kassa?" Jendel asked.
Tieran groaned and slapped his forehead. "I knew I was forgetting something!"
"It's my fault, I distracted him," Emorra said.
"Never mind-at least you brought food!" Rodar exclaimed.
"Poor Rodar's been up here since first watch," Tieran told Emorra.
"What's the soup?" Rodar asked, lifting a bowl and sniffing it.
"The last of the hot boxes failed, so it's all cold," Tieran warned.
Rodar had already dipped a finger into his bowl of the whitish soup and
licked
it. "Potato leek! Excellent."
Further investigation revealed a number of cold cuts, plenty of fresh-sliced
bread, honey, mustard, and Alandro's own special invention, a sage
vinaigrette
that doubled as a dressing for the greens and as a condiment for the
sandwiches.
There were no chairs at the top of the Drum Tower, but the lower parts of the
crenellations were wide enough to offer comfortable, if sometimes windy,
seating.
"Alandro's dressing is superb, as always," Rodar said to no one in
particular.
"We're lucky to have it," Emorra agreed. Jendel raised an eyebrow at her, so
she
expanded her comment. "The botanists had a very hard time getting the sage to
take."
"Why was that?" Rodar asked.
Emorra shrugged. "Mother said something about the boron uptake rates. In the
end
they finally got it to go by grafting it onto a native plant. Mother says it
doesn't taste quite the same as the original."
"She's one of the few left who'd know," Jendel said.
"I like the flavor," Tieran declared.
"What's the difference?" Rodar asked Emorra.
Emorra shrugged. "I never asked her."
"The dean of the College not asking?" Rodar was amazed.
Emorra shook her head. "I was a student of my mother's at the time."
"Oh," Tieran said. He and Emorra exchanged looks of understanding.
"Did they adapt all the Earth fauna, or what?" Rodar wondered. He looked at
Emorra. "Would you know?"
"Most of the adaptations were done before Crossing," Emorra answered. "But I
believe that the botanists and Kitti Ping had to drop a few adaptations. Some
of
it was a question of resources."
"And some of it?" Rodar prompted.
Emorra grinned. "Some of it was by choice. Apparently there was something
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called
okra that was dropped by mutual consent."
"I'm surprised they didn't drop spinach, then," Jendel noted sourly, pushing
a
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