Free An Unexpected Deity (Book 7) by Jeffrey Quyle Page A

duties on behalf of the gods.
    They entered the kitchen, when Putienne sat at a table with a sleepy-looking Remy.  She was eating toast, and the kitchen was rich with the aromas of food cooking for their breakfast.
    “Bernie,” Kestrel said to the cook, “are there any mushrooms left?”
    “Sir, begging your pardon, but those voracious imps of your ate up more mushrooms than I’ve ever seen  picked in all my years.  There are a few dried ones in the cellar, but not thanks to those imps you’re such good friends with, cute and interesting as they are,” the cook responded with a burst of long-suppressed aggravation.
    “I understand,” Kestrel said as he smothered a smile.  “Could you get a few of those mushrooms and prepare a small omelet for breakfast?”
    “It’ll be done in just a second, my lord,” Bernie said.
    Kestrel and Bradstree sat down to eat, as Remy overtly studied the gnome, the only member of his race ever to be seen in Oaktown.
    “They’re different from us,” he finally said, as Bradstree focused on the food that was offered for breakfast, rejecting the acorns while eating the bacon and roasted tubers.
    “On the outside, but not so much on the inside,” Kestrel told the boy.  “I lived in a village of gnomes one winter.  They saved my life.”
    “They’re good people; they just don’t mix with other races very often,” he explained.
    “Nobody mixes with others the way that you do, my lord,” Remy replied.  “Folks just can’t get over how easily you go from imps to elves to humans for anything you want!”
    “Speaking of imps,” Kestrel said, as he saw Bernie the cook finishing the omelet Kestrel had requested, “Mulberry, Mulberry, Mulberry,” he chanted softly.
    There was a long pause, and then the imp appeared, still pulling a heavy blouse down over her head as she arrived.
    “Must we start so early, Kestrel-sleep-depriver?” she asked crossly.  “Why did you call me first, after all I went through yesterday with you?”
    “Because,” Kestrel answered, as the omelet plate was placed in front of him,  “I thought you might enjoy having this special breakfast as my thanks for your friendship yesterday,” he said as he waved his hand over the plate.
    “Kestrel-dearest!” Mulberry’s eyes widened, and her face lit up with delight.  “You may call me any time of any morning you have any thing you wish to say…or share!” she laughed, then sat in his lap and began to greedily eat the food in front of him.
    “Hurry up and eat that, so I can call the others and they won’t know what you got – we’ll both be in trouble if that happens,” Kestrel urged his friend.
    “I am hurrying!” Mulberry said with a mouth full of food, fragments of egg spraying forth.
    “Stillwater,” Kestrel called, moments later, as the last bite of food left the plate.  “Stillwater, Stillwater,” he repeated, and then he picked Mulberry up to remove her from his lap and released her in the air next to him, watching her float away.
    “Kestrel lord, are you ready to begin our frigid adventure again?” the imp squad leader asked as he appeared.  He cut the sentence off abruptly, and sniffed the air, his head swiveling from side to side, then his eyes settled on Mulberry and he gave her a hard stare, while Bradstree sat and stared in confoundment at the sudden appearance of the imp.
    “I confess!  I confess!” she shouted loudly.  “I spent the entire night here making passionate love to the elf-friend!”  She floated next to Kestrel and began to tenderly stroke his hair.
    “Mulberry!” Kestrel spoke up, surprised by the dishonest confession.
    “He will ask no more questions, Kestrel-beloved, be assured,” Mulberry said calmly, as she watched Stillwater’s face grow bright purple.
    “Shall I call the others?” Stillwater changed the topic.
    “Would you send some imps to find Wren, and bring her here to join us?” Kestrel asked.
    “While they get her, we’ll