The tall woman who had met them at the door had suddenly reappeared when the Countess had mentioned getting seated in a “pod” whatever that was. Lorelei was still feeling a little breathless and half-ashamed of herself for manhandling Bound in such a public way so she could do nothing but follow along quietly behind the Countess as she stalked along in her high-heeled boots. They left the dark wood-paneled reception hall and passed into a quiet, restaurant-type area carpeted in some kind of red fur which extended from the floor up the walls and even onto the ceiling.
“Please to be enjoying yourselves. The feast will begin soon.” The tall woman bowed low, eyeing Lorelei with more respect than she’d shown previously, and then disappeared.
Lorelei looked around at the strange dining area. Sunk deep in the strange dark red fur carpet were little oval shaped areas which contained tables and chairs—none of them very large. Lorelei could see other people sitting in the oval holes in the floor with only the tops of their heads poking up. The sight reminded her of gophers or Meer cats, peeking out of their burrows.
“Oh, here we go, my dears. This is being my pod! Come for to be sitting with me!” the Countess exclaimed. She was leading them to a larger, more luxurious oval opening—about twice as big as the others—which was in the very center of the room.
The moment they reached it, her slave-mate, whom she had called “Tingor,” hopped down into the hole and then reached for her. With no trouble at all, he lifted the Countess smoothly down into the pod and waited until she got settled before sitting himself.
“Well now, Gentlewoman Daniels,” the Countess called, her tall top hat and long white plumes bobbling well above the level of the floor. “Do be coming down.”
Lorelei looked up at Bound a little apprehensively. She knew he was strong but she wasn’t exactly skinny. Would he be able to lift her as easily as Tingor had lifted the Countess?
Then she remembered the way he’d held Bob the repo guy easily over his head with one hand and felt a surge of relief. They would probably be okay.
It turned out she was right—the big Kindred lifted her as easily as if she was light as a feather and placed her carefully beside the Countess, as though she was made of china and might break if he wasn’t careful. Then he seated himself beside her and waited, respectfully, being absolutely silent, as was the Countess’s slave-mate.
Lorelei was trying to think of a graceful way to start a conversation about the upcoming sale and find out about bidding when two male servants came and started handing dishes down into the oval pod. Tingor took his and the Countess’s, making certain to place hers directly in front of her before he got his own. Bound did the same for Lorelei and soon they all had a dish sitting before them.
Lorelei examined hers with great interest and some trepidation. The dishes were silver and round on the bottom—completely enclosed so she couldn’t see what kind of food they held. Each had a narrow, fluted top which ended in a little spout rising from the very tip. The spouts all had a kind of cork in them and the rounded sides of the dish were covered in padded, patterned fabric in blue and gold and green.
“Ah, the vapor course! My favorite!” Countess du’Montrive clapped her hands excitedly. “Well, my dears—let us be getting started.”
She picked up a strange, tapered silver instrument that looked like a sharpened chop-stick and stabbed it into the cork at the top of her vessel. With a flourish, she pulled it out. At once, a rush of steam escaped from the fluted spout. Eagerly, almost greedily, the Countess leaned over the spout and began taking deep, gulping breaths of the vapor rising from her rounded dish.
Lorelei looked at Bound who shrugged. Apparently they were supposed to do the same thing. Finding her own sharpened chop-stick, Lorelei stabbed the cork at the top of her spout and, with a twist, pulled it out. Then, uncertain what she might smell, she leaned over and took a whiff of the steam rising from inside.
“Mmm! Fresh-baked bread!” she exclaimed as the delectable scent hit her nose.
“I do be begging your pardon?” the Countess asked, looking up from her own spout with a quizzical look on her face.
“Excuse me,” Lorelei said quickly. “It’s just—this smells like something from my home. A delicious dish I almost never get to eat,” she added sadly, thinking of how she’d been depriving herself of carbs for pretty much forever in a failed attempt to lose weight. Not that it ever helps, pointed out a little voice in her brain. She could shun bread for the next two decades of her life and still be a size twenty.
“Well, I am being so glad that you are enjoying our vapor course, my dear.” The Countess smiled at her. “Do please, continue to smell your fill.”
Forget smelling, I want to eat some!
Surreptitiously, Lorelei felt the bottom of her rounded dish, trying to find a way to open it. But though she felt everywhere, even under the padding where the hot part of the dish burned her fingers, she couldn’t find a seam.
At last, she gave up and leaned over to sniff some more. This time she smelled something like fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies. God, the smells this little vapor dish put out just got better and better! It was kind of maddening not to be able to open it and eat any of the amazing food she could smell inside.
Next she smelled something that was warm and salty and vaguely like roasted turkey and then something like hot cinnamon rolls. All of it was amazing but it made her mouth water and her stomach rumble in vain because she couldn’t get to any of it. Were they ever going to get served any real food?
As if to answer her question, the two male servants came again and lifted away the still-steaming dishes. In their place, they lowered a huge, perfectly round, deep-dished vessel which they placed in the center of the table with Tingor’s help.
“Ah, and now we are having the main dish,” the Countess exclaimed. “Please to be enjoying this local delicacy—Fish Eye Pie.”
“Wow—it looks, so uh, amazing,” Lorelei murmured weakly, staring at the strange creation in front of them.
The pie plate, which was as big as an extra large pizza pan, was filled to the brim with some kind of flaky pastry which looked delicious. However, sticking out of the crust at intervals were large fish heads, their silvery eyes staring blankly into space.
Lorelei felt entirely let down. After all the amazing smells they had been temped with during the vapor course now they got this to eat? Fish Eye Pie? Really?
“Well? Do please to be digging in, my dear,” the Countess du’Montrive exclaimed.
“Oh, I…I couldn’t eat before you, my Countess,” Lorelei said quickly. “Where I come from, it’s considered extremely rude to eat before the hostess.”
“Is that right?” The Countess looked interested. “I had no idea there were such strict rules in Haska! Still, I would not be wishing to make you for to be feeling uncomfortable. Tingor.” She nodded at her slave-mate. “Please to be dishing us up a wonderful piece of this Fish Eye Pie.”
“Yes, My Lady.” Her slave-mate bowed his head submissively and picked up a large utensil which had come with the pie. It looked like a cross between a knife and a pie-server. Deftly, he cut a large wedge of the pie, making sure to get one with an especially large fish head, and deposited it neatly on the triangular plate in front of the Countess du’Montrive.
Then, before Lorelei could stop him, he did the same for her before serving Bound and then himself last.
Well, this is what I get for trying to get out of eating this stuff, she thought, looking down at the perfectly huge fish head which seemed to be staring up at her reproachfully. If I would have gone first, I might have been able to just take a little piece without a fish head in it.
But it was too late for regrets—now she was stuck with a giant fish head. How was she going to go about eating it? Or at least, pretending to eat it?
An old song she’d heard somewhere when she was a kid started playing in her head. Fish heads, fish heads, roly-poly fish heads! Fish heads, fish heads, eat ‘em up—Yum! Fish heads, fish head, roly-poly fish heads…
Okay, that’s enough Lorelei. Time to get serious—what are you going to do?
She looked at the flaky crust—that part might not be so bad but the filling of the pie smelled extremely fishy—like salmon that had been sitting out in the sun all day. Ugh.
Out of the corner of her eye, she watched as the Countess picked up the sharpened chop-stick again—apparently it was a multipurpose tool—and speared her own shiny silver eye.
“Ah, such a delicacy!” she exclaimed and popped the slimy thing into her mouth, chewing with gusto. Then she looked at Lorelei expectantly. “Do be trying it, my dear. We do not wish to be giving offense to the chef, after all.”
Or to the hostess either, I’m guessing, Lorelei thought grimly. God, when she’d agreed to go on this mission with Bound, she’d never expected she would have to eat fish eyes! Then she remembered how she’d promised that she would do everything she could to get Torn back. It couldn’t all be fun and naughty sex games—she was going to have to suck it up and eat the pie.
More specifically, the eye in the pie, whispered a little voice in her head. That roly-poly fish head is going in your mouth, one way or another, Lorelei.
Feeling sick to her stomach, Lorelei picked up her own sharpened chop-stick and stabbed at the silver eye staring up from her plate. It squished as she speared it and for a moment, Lorelei was absolutely positive she was going to be sick. She thought of claiming a seafood allergy and then told herself not to be such a coward. She was just going to have to eat the damn eye.
Taking a deep breath to nerve herself up, she opened her mouth, popped in the eye, and chewed as fast as she could.
That, of course, was a mistake. Lorelei realized after the first squishy bite, when the eye popped in her mouth like an overripe grape, that she should have tried to swallow it whole, without chewing at all. A disgusting fishy flavor filled her mouth and spread over her tongue, making her want to gag.
“Swallow, My Lady. Quickly,” she heard Bound murmur from beside her. “Get it down—hurry!”
Gulping, she did as he said, wishing with all her heart for a big glass of water. But there was no liquid on the table.
Except what’s oozing out of the Fish Eye Pie, whispered a little voice in her head. Oh God, now she really was going to be sick!
“Isn’t it lovely?” the Countess du’Montrive asked, beaming at her as she tore into the rest of her pie. “It is being quite the best thing on our menu here at the Fren and Chulk.”
If that was so, Lorelei thought, she would hate to see the rest of the menu! Just as she was sure she was about to gag, the servants came back, this time bearing trays of tiny, thimble-sized glasses all filled with dark brown liquid.
“Here we are, here, we are—the tingle and burn course,” the Countess exclaimed, reaching for a glass and then passing it to her right. Tingor, her slave-mate, took it from her and passed it to his right. At the same time, the Countess took another glass from the tray the servant was holding down into the pit-like dining pod and passed it to Lorelei on her left.
Though Lorelei wanted to chug the liquid in the worst way—anything to get the awful, slimy, fishy taste out of her mouth—she sensed this wasn’t the right thing to do. Carefully, she passed the tiny glass to Bound, on her left, just as he passed her a glass that Tingor had passed to him from the right. And while this was going on, the Countess was taking yet another tiny glass from the tray and passing it to Tingor again.
This went on until all of them had a tiny glass of brown liquid in each hand. Then the Countess nodded at the servants, who disappeared as suddenly as they had come.
“To new guests and a successful sale for all,” she said, raising both her little glasses in a toast. Then she brought one of the tiny glasses to her lips and took the smallest sip possible.
Lorelei echoed the words and then she couldn’t wait anymore. Feeling like she was going to be sick if she didn’t get the fishy taste out of her mouth, she brought the first little glass to her lips and poured its dark brown contents down her throat.
A lovely, cool, tingling sensation filled her mouth—like a burst of sparkling, minty, fizzy water which almost completely eradicated the awful fish taste. It was such a relief that Lorelei lifted the other little glass to her lips, certain that one more drink of the brown liquid would finally banish the rotten fish-eye flavor forever.
“Oh my dear,” the Countess said, just as she was tipping the second thimble-sized glass into her mouth. “I don’t know that I would be doing that if I were you. There is a reason this particular drink is called tingle and burn.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry if I offended you, my Countess,” she began. “It’s just so delicious I…I…” But she couldn’t say anything else because her tongue and indeed, the entire inside of her mouth had suddenly, ominously gone completely numb.
What in the world? Am I having a stroke? Lorelei wondered, bewildered. What’s going—
The thought ended as abruptly as the numbness because suddenly her mouth was on fire.
“Ahh!” gasped Lorelei, unable to help herself. The pain was intense—it literally felt like the inside of her mouth was being seared with a blowtorch.
“Oh my goodness! Oh, my dear!” The Countess du’Montrive looked genuinely upset and worried. “Are you being all right?”
“Burns,” Lorelei managed to get out. “It burns.” Beside her, Bound looked extremely worried.
“My Lady?” he asked, putting a hand on her arm. “Is there anything I can do for you? Let me help you—what can I do?”
“Don’t…know,” Lorelei gasped. Breathing out hurt but breathing in was even more painful. With each breath she took it felt like someone was shooting flames down her throat and straight into her stomach. “Burns,” she gasped again.
The Countess wrung her hands.
“I imagine it does. I have never been seeing anyone drink that much tingle and burn at once. Oh my dear, I should have been warning you—I am so sorry.”
“Do you have…any milk?” Lorelei panted. Her eyes were running and her whole face felt hot. She had never been much of a hot sauce eater but she knew from watching her older brother do those stupid hot pepper challenges with his friends that milk was supposed to coat your mouth and throat and ease the stinging.
“Mi-lek?” The Countess du’Montrive fluttered her hands helplessly. “Is that a food from the Haska region?”
“Something sweet, my Countess,” Bound said urgently. “If there is something sweet that My Lady could eat or drink, that might cool the burning.”
“Oh yes, of course! Servants!” The Countess stood up on her seat and clapped her hands together until the two serving males came running.
“Yes, my Countess?” one asked. “What can we be doing for you?”
“My new friend here, Gentlewoman Daniels of Haska has been having too much tingle and burn. We must be having the sweet course at once!”
“But my Countess,” the other server protested. “The course is Bursting Blossom and it has not quite finished cooking yet. You know how volatile it is to be being when undercooked!”
“I don’t care—I don’t want to be hearing your excuses!” The Countess drew herself up and gave the serving male a withering look. “Be bringing the sweet course at once.”
The serving males’ faces turned positively white.
“Yes, my Countess. At once, my Countess,” they both said, bowing rapidly. Then they ran off in what was presumably the direction of the kitchen.
Lorelei hoped they came back soon. Her mouth, throat, and esophagus felt like she had swallowed a flaming sword. She wouldn’t have been a bit surprised to look down and see black smoke billowing out from between her lips every time she opened her mouth. Oh God, why had she downed the tiny shot glasses of tingle and burn so quickly? This burning was a hundred times worse than the slimy fish-eye taste. A thousand times worse!
Finally, a servant came running up to the pod, holding a white glass dish about as big as a cereal bowl in both hands. Balanced in a quivering mound, three feet higher than the sides of the bowl itself, was a bright blue, swaying mountain of what looked like some kind of meringue.
“Here you are, Gentlewoman,” he said, leaning over the edge of the pod and setting it down in front of Lorelei. “The sweet course. Only I pray you take care, for—”
But Lorelei had already picked up the most likely-looking utensil to eat the quivering mountain of meringue—or what she assumed was meringue, anyway. It was a kind of long-handled spork, with a rounded bowl like a spoon, tipped with long, sharp tines like a fork. Recklessly, she leaned forward and opened her mouth as she stabbed at the wobbly blue mountain.
With a muffled bang! the whole thing exploded in her face.
Lorelei gasped, drawing in a big breath in surprise and a good chunk of what turned out to be extremely-sweet custardy stuff as well. She coughed and choked, wiping at the blue, smeary chunks which were sliding down her face. It was like she had decided to have a facial with runny blue tapioca pudding—that was the consistency of the stuff which now coated her face, hair, and shoulders.
“Oh My Lady!” Bound exclaimed and at the same time, the Countess du’Montrive cried out in shock,
“Oh dear, this is being the worst mess I have ever been seeing in all my days!”
“All right…I’m all right,” Lorelei managed to choke out. The one good thing about the exploding dessert was that it seemed to have stopped the burning in her mouth. It had a sort of berry-watermelon-mango flavor that reminded her of kid’s too-sweet bubblegum. But it was a hell of a lot better than feeling like she’d been sucking on a blowtorch.
“This is being terrible!” the Countess exclaimed. “Why my dear Gentlewoman Daniels, I would not be blaming you if you chose to leave the Fren and Chulk and never be darkening our doorway again!”
“No, no!” Lorelei hastened to reassure her. “Please, my Countess, please don’t think that I am, uh, being upset. None of this is being your fault—it’s all on me. I should have been more, uh, careful with the food. It’s just that we…we are not having anything like this dinner in Haska.”
“So…you still wish to stay for the sale?” the Countess inquired, looking greatly relieved. “Oh, I do so hope you will be staying!”
Lorelei wondered why she cared so much. Was she concerned about the reputation of the Fren and Chulk or was Femalian society particularly litigious and she was worried about getting sued?
Either way, maybe they could use the Countess’s concern to their advantage.
“I do want to stay,” she told the Countess, wiping away the blue, runny dessert with a golden foil napkin, which didn’t do much more than smear the stuff around. “For I have heard, er—have been hearing a rumor that you intend to be selling a Kindred warrior who has been modified by the V’radors.”
“Oh no, my dear.” The Countess shook her head, her white plumes bouncing—somehow, though she wasn’t seated that far from Lorelei, her entire outfit was still spotless. “Oh no, we do not be intending to be selling any Kindred at the sale today.”
“What?” Lorelei exploded. “No Kindred?”
“Sadly, no.” The Countess shrugged. “We did have one, you know—quite a fine specimen too—a Kindred with black hair and green eyes.”
Lorelei’s breath seemed to catch in her throat.
“He sounds…beautiful,” she finally managed to say.
“Oh, he is—he is being quite the most gorgeous male I have ever seen,” the Countess exclaimed. “But I cannot be selling him. He is much too savage.”