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The Vespertine sliced through the waves as the setting sun coloured the sky. Garl crossed the deck balancing a dinner tray. He passed by Hortence, exchanging a nod and grin, though he wished she could actually partake in dinner as well, but she, at least, often joined them in company, unlike his target in the greenhouse.
To his knowledge, Resh’an had yet to leave the greenhouse while they sailed and he was there now. White eyes blinked in possible surprise—Garl was still trying to figure what meant what—as he entered bearing the tray.
“Since you don’t come down, I thought I’d bring some supper to you,” Garl said as he looked for a bare patch of some kind of surface to place the tray.
“I don’t need to eat,” Resh’an said simply with a possible note of puzzlement.
There was a spot at one corner of a table that would do. “Yeah, I guessed so,” Garl said placing the tray. “Being immortal and all.” He turned back to face Resh’an fully. “But you can, right?” Or had he completely misjudged and just offended the alchemist?
“Certainly, but there’s no sense in wasting it.”
“Food’s good for the soul too, you know.”
“I—.”
“Besides,” Garl continued with a nod and grin toward the tray, “mortals need to eat and people are gonna start wondering.”
Resh’an’s eyes narrowed and Garl wondered if he’d annoyed him until he spoke with what he thought sounded like amusement.
“I have been away too long.”
He stepped toward the table, stared down at the tray and selected a biscuit topped with a small amount of jam. Holding it aloft, he examined it as if it was some sort of fascinating specimen. “Celestial Willow sap?”
It was Garl’s turn to blink in surprise. He’d done what he could with the biscuits with what they had on hand, but cooking on the sea as it turned out, was certainly different than he what he was used to. They came out dryer than he’d wanted; a little sweetness had been in order.
“You can tell? I don’t have very much left, so I only used a tiny bit; it’s mostly berry.” It had been enough to be a little taste of home for Valere and Zale, he hoped. “I didn’t know anyone outside Mooncradle knew it.”
“I have some familiarity.”
Garl gave a rueful laugh as he remembered who exactly he was talking to. “Immortal Alchemist. Archivist. Right. Well,” he said after a pause, “I’d better get back down to the others. Unless you want some company…?”
Resh’an cast a hand over himself. “Allow me to keep some vanity.”
Which left Garl wondering what was under all those robes, but he wasn’t about to pry as curious as he was. He simply smiled and backed off to the door. “Enjoy! And if you want anything else let me know.”
Dinner was a long and merry affair and after cleaning up Garl found himself wandering the deck again breathing in the sea air and feeling the cool breeze, refreshing after the warmth below. He stepped to the railing and stared up at the moon. The sky over the ocean was so beautiful and yet another amazing sight to add the list so far.
A rustle of cloth caught his attention and he turned to find Resh’an standing near.
“Some would disapprove the sap being used so,” he said, “but I think it was a worthy use. If I recall the old phrase correctly, my compliments to the chef.”
Garl beamed. “Maybe I can make it again for you sometime. Or my cookies. I can probably convince Valere and Zale to share.”
“Perhaps.” With a nod, Resh’an drifted away back into the darkness toward the greenhouse.
Garl leaned against the railing in a wash of contentment. What other wonderfully unexpected things would this journey bring?
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