Lee Shores Page 10

  “So,” Nefi asked in a moment, “your reverence, are you going to officiate the joyous occasion?” The words practically dripped with sarcasm.

  “I have been asked to do so, yes,” Akura answered. It seemed an evasive answer to me, and its follow-up removed the doubt from my mind. It was definitely an evasion. “We have no date in mind yet. I advised we wait awhile before committing to a joining time.” He shrugged. “It’s always best practice for nontraditional weddings like these.”

  I flinched at the word, glancing around the room. I half expected to see F’rok standing there, nodding sagely, summoned to the spot by being proved right so damned quickly. Alas, I was still alone in enemy territory.

  “Sound advice, as always, Reverence,” Kri nodded.

  “It gives the couple a chance to be truly certain about their intentions.”

  It was now that the meal began. A small army of serving staff poured into the room. I was somewhat surprised to see them. In my time here so far, I’d only caught a glimpse of a uniformed servant here or there. Now, they marched in on either side of the room with silver serving trays in tow, liveried and at an almost military attention when they stopped.

  The dining room was a massive space, with three long tables arranged in a horseshoe shape. I was at the central table. Frank and Maggie sat at the middle of this table, surrounded by the Inkaya family – both his immediate family, and the many aunts and uncles, cousins and nieces and nephews who had come to celebrate his betrothal.

  Close friends and respected dignitaries occupied the remaining seats at this table. The Brityas, I noticed, were not afforded a place here. They sat further down, at one of the adjacent tables far from the family.

  I couldn’t help but glance at F’riya, who wore a pensive gaze now, her eyes lingering in the direction of Ger. Now and then, someone would lean in to talk to her, and she would smile and respond with some pleasantry. But there was a sadness in her face that had been noticeably absent not many minutes earlier.

  I wondered, now, if I’d made the right call after all. Here she was, surrounded by people come to praise her brother’s fake union; while all the while she had to hide her real one from her family and friends. I couldn’t begin to imagine how painful that must have been to her, and to Ger as well.

  I was drawn from my thoughts, though, by the appearance of a tray, levitating almost between my seat and Kor ark nikya’s, so carefully was it held. It brimmed with opulent fruits of every imaginable shade and hue, and I found my mouth watering as the server set it down.

  Then, just as gracefully as she’d appeared, she slipped away. On my other side, between myself and an Inkaya cousin I did not recognize, another waiter appeared, this time with a tray full of rolls and breads.

  Carbs and sweets, I thought. If they’d been trying to find my kryptonite, they couldn’t have done a better job.

  R’ia arn inkaya stood now, addressing the assembly. “Friends and family, we are honored to share this celebration with you. Today marks the beginning of our son F’er’s new life. Today marks the start of our new family, for we welcome a daughter to House Inkaya. Please, lift your glasses to Magdalene Landon.”

  The Nikyas rose as stiffly as High Priest Akura, repeating without enthusiasm, “Magdalene Landon.”

  Maggie, meanwhile, flushed at the attention. It might have been projection on my part, but if I had to guess, I would have said that she was feeling guilty too for lying to Fred’s family.

  Now, the first course was brought out in great serving bowls. The army of waiters returned, lining up along the wall with their burdens in hand while one of their number headed to Frank and Maggie.

  Dre said, “It is only fitting that the betrothed begin the night as we are feasting in their honor.”

  Polite affirmation sounded from all corners, and the young man with the soup ladled several very full scoops into their bowls.

  Then, the rest of the serving crew descended, filling the empty bowls at our places. I stared at the thin, ruddy substance before me, and the floral-shaped ice cube the server placed in it after he’d finished. I took my cues from those around me. They lifted one of several spoons – a broad-topped, deep-basined spoon. Almost in unison, they dipped them into the bowl, and began taking long, loud sips.

  The noise made me cringe, but not quite as much as the liquid itself. A fruity odor hit my nostrils, somewhere between plums and prune juice. I tasted it gingerly. It was, as the ice cube indicated, a cold food. The taste was unlike anything I’d ever eaten before, and for a moment I let it linger on my lips and tongue, making up my mind as to whether I liked it or not.

  I did. The flavor was – mercifully – nothing like prunes. In truth, I did not recognize any of the components that had gone into this. They were fruity, certainly, but no flavors that I could pinpoint. There was a hint of something savory, too, and it was a strange but pleasing counterbalance to what otherwise might have been too sweet.

  I attacked the soup with some eagerness, remembering again how hungry I was. I was about four or five spoonfuls in when a voice at my elbow asked, “Is the soup not to your liking, Miss Katherine?”

  It was Kor, Frank’s almost-brother-in-law. He had fixed a curious set of eyes on me.

  “On the contrary,” I said. “It’s quite good.”

  He squinted, as if trying to understand me. “You eat very quietly for someone who enjoys their makla-gon.”

  I glanced up and down the table, past the Kudarians nearest me who were watching our exchange with distaste, and to the others, who were slurping with gusto. “Forgive me,” I said. “On Earth, it is considered poor form to make noise while eating. Am I to understand the opposite is true here?”

  He shrugged. “One eats makla-gon quietly only if one is dissatisfied with the chef’s work.”

  “Ah. My apologies. I shall eat more noisily, then.”

  We slurped our way through more courses. Solid foods, I learned, were meant to be enjoyed in absolute silence, to convey the delicacy of the food, and how little effort was required to eat.

  Soups, broths and beverages, on the other hand, were to be consumed as noisily as possible if enjoyed. This demonstrated the eagerness of the diner.

  I was four courses in and already feeling full. I wished, now, I’d adhered to Frank’s warning early on, to eat lightly. My companions were able to clean their plates, but by the second fruit soup, I was able to take no more than a few spoonfuls.

  Of the Nikya clan, only Kor made any efforts to engage me in conversation, and those were half-hearted.

  The meal was half over before he mentioned anything more personal than food. “You said you were friends with Magdalene, Katherine?”

  “That’s right,” I nodded.

  “How do you know her?”

  “I’m the chief engineer on her ship.”

  “Ah. I’m not sure I’d like that: to be responsible for so many lives?” He shook his head. “It’s a lot of risk.”

  I shrugged. “Well, someone’s got to do it. And this way at least you get to make sure it’s done right.”

  He ignored my smile, nodding soberly. “There’s something to that, I suppose.”

  “What about you? You ever been off world?”

  “I’ve stayed on Kulri a few times, for work.”

  “Ever been outside of the Kudar system?”

  “Gods no,” he said. “I’ve no desire to go anywhere else. Why would I? Everything we need is here on the home world, or on one of our sister worlds.”

  I shrugged. “Everything you need, maybe. But there’s entire galaxies out there, with planets like nothing you’ve ever seen before. Water worlds, moon colonies, lava planets…”

  “If the gods had any use for such things,” Akura informed us, “he’d have put them in our system.” He turned back to the fowl on his plate, as if that ended the matter.

  “Or maybe,” I posited, “within traveling distance.”

  Akura glanced up now, studying me intently. “And
what would be the purpose of that, Miss Katherine? How does it benefit our people to leave their own star system and travel to these lava worlds or moon colonies?”

  “The same way it benefits any people, I would think,” I said. “We learn. We expand our minds and our awareness. We see things, and peoples, we wouldn’t have otherwise seen.”

  He sat back in his chair, ignoring the roast bird now, and steepling his fingers on the tabletop. “And how does seeing these curiosities help your people? You have traveled much. How has it helped you?”

  “Well,” I said, “it’s the acquisition of knowledge. That always helps us. It’s always a good thing, isn’t it?”

  “Is it?” he asked. “How?”

  I was a bit stunned by the question. “Well…it…it just is. I mean, that’s an underpinning of modernity: that to know something is better than to be ignorant. How else do we progress? How else do we correct the misassumptions and mistakes of the past?”

  “That,” he said decisively, “is only true if your culture has committed sins that require you amend your ways.”

  I stared at him, feeling an eyebrow creep up my forehead. “Every culture makes mistakes. Every person makes mistakes.”

  “Do they?”

  “Of course.”

  He shrugged. “I will not take offense at your words, Katherine. You speak from your experience, and your experience is of a world denied our gods and our ways, a world tainted by darkness and ignorance. But I assure you, cultures that follow those gods and those ways are not in need of traipsing across the universe seeking answers.” He spread his hands triumphantly. “We have them already.”

  “Really?” I had to fight to keep my expression neutral. Exasperation at such hubris, and simple amusement, threatened to spill out. “So Kudarian society has never changed? It has never made mistakes? Or do you suggest that it is only now, in this particular moment in history, that Kudarians have embraced the ways of your gods? Were those past Kudarians all failures then?”

  He crossed his arms now. “You are very opiniated about the affairs of Kudar, Miss Katherine, for a human.”

  “On the contrary, High Priest. I am a guest simply trying to understand.” I spread my hands. “It is not often someone from such a tainted world as my own gets to bask in clarifying wisdom like yours.”

  Kor snorted at the barbs in my tone and words, glancing down quickly to his plate. His parents were already studying their own fowl intently, and his sister watched us both with unreserved horror.

  “Well,” Akura sighed, “I’m afraid I have no more words to spare on you.”

  “I am grieved to hear it, High Priest,” I lied.

  Kor almost choked on a piece of food, and I returned to my own plate without bothering to catch Akura’s expression. I had a pretty good idea of what it was without seeing it.

  Chapter Sixteen

  High Priest Akura seemed positively relieved to escape when the evening meal concluded. He raced for our hosts to take his leave. The Nikyas were not long in following, but Kor lingered behind while the others moved on. “You, uh, bring an interesting perspective, Miss Katherine,” he said. “I rather enjoyed your exchange with Akura tonight.”

  I laughed. “I don’t think he would say the same.”

  He grinned at me. “Perhaps not.” Then, he shrugged. “But perhaps he would benefit from more such exchanges. He is not a man often challenged, you understand.”

  “I got that impression.”

  “But in still waters, we all stagnate.”

  I nodded. “Still, if I can help it, I’ll not provoke him again.”

  He was smiling again. “Too bad. I should have liked to see it.” He glanced at his family, which had already reached the Inkayas. “Well, I should go. I hope I’ll see you again, Katherine. And your friend Magdalene. Now that – well, this uncomfortable business – is over, I trust our next meetings will be more pleasant.”

  And with that, he took his leave. I meandered over to the family, not quite sure what else to do with myself. Maggie and Frank were still stuck in the role of hostess and host, this time taking their leave of the guests.

  F’rok moved beside me. “Well,” he said, his tone low, “I see you got stuck beside Akura. How’d that go?”

  I shrugged. “Well…I mean, I guess it depends on your expectations. He definitely hates me now.”

  He laughed. “He looked like he was about to have an aneurysm when he took his leave. I’d say you were doing something right.”

  I laughed too. “Well, I definitely won’t be getting invitations to temple.”

  “Like I said, you were doing something right.”

  It seemed an eternity, but, at last, the night wore down. The guests who were heading back to their own homes left, and those who were to be houseguests for a few days or, in the case of some of the cousins, a week or two meandered up to bed.

  I was disappointed to find that F’vir, the young man whose creepy acquaintance I had already made, was among the latter. He, on the other hand, was excited to tell me about it. “We’re practically going to be neighbors. I’m down the opposite hall from you.”

  “Great.”

  “So, did you give any thought to my invitation? You know, to tour Kriar?”

  “Oh, uh, well…haven’t really had a chance to make plans.”

  He nodded, nudging me on the shoulder. “Well, you know where to find me, eh? And feel free to bring your friend.” Laughing, he took his leave as Frank and Maggie approached.

  “What was that about?” he wondered.

  I grimaced. “A new friend. Unfortunately.”

  Maggie watched the young man go. “F’vir, right?”

  “Yup.”

  “Ah yes. I remember him. Gave me the creepiest looking over.”

  Frank nodded. “I remember.”

  “He wants to hang out,” I said, rolling my eyes.

  “Should I be worried?” Mags teased.

  “Yes,” I said. “Because you’re on the invite too.”

  “Do I need to talk to him?” Frank wondered.

  I shook my head, and Maggie said, “I’ll take care of him, if he gets to be a problem.”

  He grinned. “What makes you think I was worried about you, Magdalene? He’s my cousin. I’d rather tell him to knock it off than explain to my aunt why he’ll be drinking out of a straw for the next two months.”

  We all laughed at that, then he said, “I don’t know about you two, but I’m exhausted.”

  “Me too,” Maggie nodded. “My face hurts from fake-smiling all day.”

  He nodded. “Mine too. I vote we hit the rack.”

  “Seconded,” I put in.

  “By unanimous decision, the council votes for sleep,” Maggie narrated.

  I giggled and he grinned. “But tomorrow, you two game for seeing Kriar?”

  “We’re not inviting your creepy cousin, are we?” I asked.

  “Hell no. You don’t mind if F’riya and F’rok come, though, do you?”

  “Of course not.”

  “And Ger?”

  I smiled. “By all means.”

  “Good. Well, then…see you tomorrow.”

  We bid him a goodnight, and he ambled up the stairs. I sighed, relieved that the night was finally over. “You ready?”

  “So very ready, babe.”

  “Then let’s go.”

  We walked side-by-side, and despite the fact that there was no one else around, I resisted the urge to wrap my arm around her. The house was huge, and full of visitors; and the staircase was in plain view of several rooms. I didn’t want to risk getting spotted.

  Once we were upstairs, though, and heading down the hallway toward our rooms, I slipped an arm around her waist.

  “So,” she leaned in, kissing my ear and whispering, “your room or mine?”

  We settled on my room, and somehow I found that I wasn’t nearly as tired as I thought. Not with Magdalene Landon in my bed.

  Still, when we finally got to sle
ep, we slept soundly. Her alarm roused us early, and I groaned. “Oh hell, why’d you set that thing Mags?”

  She was wrapped in my arms, and she groaned too. “I’ve got to get back to my room. Before anyone wakes up.”

  I grumbled a protest. “Dammit, that’s right. You’re supposed to be Frank’s fiancée.”

  She kissed my cheek. “Yes. So it won’t look great if I’m caught in your bed, will it?”

  I smiled, murmuring a few more complaints as she peeled herself out from under the covers and from between my arms.

  “I’ll see you later, babe. Love you.”

  “I love you too, Maggie,” I said. And then, I fell back asleep.

  I woke a few hours later to sunlight streaming into my room from a far drape. I yawned, glanced around to get my bearings, and then sat up. There was a note on my dresser from Maggie.

  Sleep tight, love. See you soon.

  Magdalene

  I smiled, and the thought of seeing Maggie – much less, spending time with her outside the Inkaya household – filled me with excitement. Even after all the months we’d been together, I still got butterflies thinking about her, like I had on our first date.

  That was a new sensation for me. None of the guys I’d been with had impacted me like that. I’d liked them, sure. But after time, we just drifted apart. And eventually, we drifted so far apart that we were done, and that was that.

  With Maggie, it seemed like the longer I knew her, the more I loved her. The longer we were together, the more impossible the idea of losing her became.

  I showered and dressed quickly, pulling my hair back into a loose ponytail. I put on a little mascara and a light floral scent, and I was ready. After dressing to the nines last night, it felt good to don comfortable clothes and skip most of the makeup.

  Maggie and Frank were waiting for me downstairs, and she smiled broadly to see me. She, as usual, was stunning, her hair spilling into easy curls and her skin looking rosy and sun kissed.

  The thought crossed my mind that it was a damned shame we had to keep up this ruse. I wanted nothing more than to wrap my arms around her and kiss her good morning. But a heated glance and a discrete brush of our fingers as we passed each other would have to do. “Morning, Magdalene,” I said.