“Try it,” Lit’aal added. “It’s really good.”
“I thought no one but a Khalla could eat this stuff,” Emily said.
The little priestess blushed.
“That is only the soup. This particular dish is not poison to non-Khalla’s. One of the chefs is a friend of mine and he let me try a little.”
“I thought you just said we weren’t supposed to talk to the help.” Emily raised an eyebrow.
“So we are not—or a Khalla is not, anyway. And it is doubtful whether her personal attendants should either.” Turra gave the other priestess a disapproving look.
“I don’t mind,” Emily said quickly, not wanting to get Lit’aal, who seemed like the nicer of the two, into trouble. “It looks really great—I don’t blame you for trying some. In fact, would you two like to sit down and have some with me now?” She smiled at both of them. “I hate eating alone.”
“Oh, no!” Turra looked even more shocked than when Emily had expressed a desire to go thank the chefs personally.
“We cannot eat the Feast of Becoming with you, Khalla-to-be, as neither Turra or myself has any hope of becoming a Khalla,” Lit’aal explained gently. “But thank you for asking us. It shows a good heart.”
“It shows an improper understanding of her status,” Turra sniffed. “But never fear, Khalla-to-be, we will educate you.”
“Um, thanks, I guess,” Emily mumbled.
“And now you should eat, before the Tureen grows cold.” Leaning forward, Turra took up a strangely carved wooden spoon and began ladling some of the cheesy, bubbling casserole onto a green metal plate.
Emily watched carefully but to her immense relief, there didn’t appear to be any eyeballs in this particular dish. It consisted of long, thin, pinkish noodles covered in some kind of white and yellow sauce. On closer examination, Emily decided there wasn’t cheese in it after all—it still looked good, though.
“Here, my Khalla-to-be,” Turra murmured, handing her the plate and a utensil that looked like four long chopsticks arranged in a claw configuration. “Partake of the Tureen of Oration and speak with the tongue of the Goddess.”
“Thanks.” Emily took a minute to figure out how to work the chopstick claw but finally she succeeded in gripping a large bite of the long, pinkish noodles and getting them into her mouth. The sauce was scrumptious—savory and light at the same time but the noodles were firm and flat and very rubbery—almost tough.
“How does it please you?” Lit’aal asked eagerly. “Is it not delightful?”
Emily finished the first bite with some difficulty.
“It’s delicious,” she said, not wanting to complain about how hard the noodles were to chew—though really they were so tough and fibrous she could barely get them down. “And very, uh, chewy.”
“Oh, that’s the way Tisla tongues are supposed to taste,” Lit’aal assured her. “It’s their texture that makes them unique.”
Emily paused with another bite of the long, pinkish noodles halfway to her lips. “I’m sorry, what did you say this is made of?”
“Tisla tongues—they are an animal native to the northern reaches of our world,” Turra said. “They sing the most beautiful melodies—those who have heard them say you cannot help but weep.”
Emily wanted to weep right now. Didn’t they have anything normal to eat? Anything that didn’t involve alien animal organs? She took another look at the long, slimy pink noodles—no, tongues—they’re freaking tongues—she reminded herself, in their coating of white and yellow sauce and knew she couldn’t eat any more.
“They’re really good,” she said, as politely as she could, putting the four pronged chopstick utensil down. “But I’m getting really full.”
Turra frowned. “You cannot be full yet—you still have many courses to go.”
“Why don’t we save them for later?” Emily asked, smiling brightly. “Something to look forward to.”
“Perhaps the Khalla-to-be would like the last course—a dessert the chefs labored over many hours,” Lit’aal suggested softly. “It is very special—the Cream of Courage.”
“Really? The Cream of Courage?” Emily wondered why in the world every dish in this feast had to be named after some kind of virtue.
“It’s quite delicious, Khalla-to-be. Truly it is.” Quickly Turra whisked away the tureen of tongue and Lit’aal brought out something that looked for all the world like a huge, puffy chocolate soufflé.
“Wow,” Emily breathed. “I have to admit, that looks amazing.”
“Oh, it is.” Lit’aal set the dish before her, beaming and Turra handed her a golden spoon shaped like a miniature shovel.
“Please, Khalla-to-be, partake and be strengthened.”
“Well…” Emily hesitated, the golden shovel-spoon hovering over the delicious looking dessert. “It’s not made of tongues or eyeballs, is it?” she asked, looking at Turra suspiciously.
“On my honor, Khalla-to-be, no.” The priestess looked at her earnestly.
“Well…in that case…” Emily dug her golden eating utensil into the puffy soufflé which immediately collapsed into a delicious looking heap of what looked like moist brownie crumbs and molten chocolate. Just like a chocolate lava cake… It was Emily’s favorite. She didn’t even stop to smell the bite she’d dug out of the dessert, she just put the whole spoonful into her mouth at once…
She nearly choked.
The flavor wasn’t at all what she’d expected. It was sweet—Emily would give it that—teeth-achingly sweet. But under the intense sweetness was a strange meaty flavor. And not just any meat—rotten meat. The texture was meat-like too—crumbly and chewy at the same time. It was like having a mouthful of super sweet rancid hamburger with slime on top.
“Ew…urg,” she gasped, barely managing to swallow the awful mouthful. She glared at both of the priestesses who were watching her eagerly. “That wasn’t chocolate!” she exclaimed. “That was barely food at all!”
“What is shokolat?” Lit’aal asked, frowning. “Is it a delicacy from Earth?”
“It is,” confirmed Turra. “It is often sold on the Mother Ship—Earth females prefer it to almost any other confection.” She looked at Emily. “But Khalla-to-be, we never told you that the Cream of Courage was made of chocolate.”
“Yes, but look at it!” Emily wished she could wash her mouth out—the cloyingly sweet and slimy rancid hamburger taste wouldn’t leave no matter how much she swallowed. “I mean, it looked just like a big, puffy chocolate soufflé and then after I poked it, it looked like crumbled brownies with hot fudge sauce. It looked so good!”
“And did you not find it to your liking, Khalla-to-be?” Lit’aal asked anxiously. “Xenox heart is considered a great delicacy here on Rageron. It comes from a very ferocious beast and gives the eater enormous courage.”
“Xenox heart?” Emily shook her head. “No wonder. Look, I don’t want to be rude but don’t you people serve anything that isn’t made of weird alien body parts around here?”
“The Feast of Becoming is made up of cuisine that will bolster a Khalla-to-be’s natural strengths and help to free her Kit’tara,” Turra said stiffly.
“Set my Kit’tara free?” Even as she spoke, Emily could feel the other shifting restlessly inside her. “Now I know I’m not eating any more.”
“These foods will feed your inner goddess.” Turra frowned disapprovingly. “It is to your benefit to eat as much as you can of each dish.”
“I have,” Emily said. “I can honestly say I couldn’t eat another bite.” She sighed. “Look, I’m really very tired. Do you think I could have a little time to myself to relax now?”
“We are your attendants and so we cannot leave you alone,” Lit’aal explained quietly. “But if you are tired, why do you not take a bath in the Juice of Refreshment?” She nodded at the round, sunken pool covered in the floating white blossoms.
“That does look wonderfully refreshing,” Emily said, hopping up quickly. From the look on
Turra’s face, the priestess would have liked to feed her several more helpings of the disgusting feast and Emily wasn’t up for that. The idea of a bath seemed like a welcome distraction.
She went over and looked into the pool—the most delicious scent rose from it—something like pink grapefruit mixed with passion fruit mixed with strawberries. The surface was completely covered in the delicate white floating blossoms which made it look like something out of a romantic movie. All it needed were a few tall, vanilla scented pillar candles to be a total romance trope. Emily liked it—a lot.
“This looks great.” She turned back to Turra and Lit’aal who were standing behind her, watching her. “Look, I know you guys are supposed to stay with me but do you mind giving me just a little privacy to undress and get in the pool?”
“Assuredly, Khalla-to-be.” As one, they turned to put their backs to her and waited patiently.
“Thank you.” Emily slipped out of the long green gown and the lighter green top that went with it. To her relief, she saw that both her nectar and her honey seemed to have stopped flowing—at least for now. She didn’t have the urgency between her legs or the fullness in her breasts either so maybe all that business was over. Possibly Tragar had cured her of it with the wonderful orgasms he’d given her the night before?
Just thinking of the big Kindred made her feel homesick for his arms. It was strange, she hadn’t even know him that long. But to Emily, it felt like they had been somehow connected all their lives and had only found each other recently. She felt right when she was with him…and wrong when she wasn’t. Would she get to see him soon? She certainly hoped so. And if Mother Chundra thought she was going to accept anyone else as her chosen mate, she was sadly mistaken.
Folding her clothes neatly, she walked to the edge of the tub and sat down to stick her feet in first. The liquid in the tub wasn’t very hot but it had a soothing, silky feel that Emily liked. Careful not to slip, she lowered herself with a deep sigh down into the “Juice of Refreshment” as Lit’aal had called it.
The two priestesses were both still standing with their backs to her, waiting patiently.
“It’s all right,” Emily told them, sinking lower so that the floating blossoms covered her breasts. “I’m decent now. Well—sort of.”
Turra and Lit’aal turned around and came to the edge of the pool.
“We are glad you find your bath enjoyable, at least, Khalla-to-be,” Turra said, a bit snippily, Emily thought.
“It’s really nice,” she said, smiling. She felt bad about not eating any more of the feast but really, how could she? She could still taste the sweet, rancid hamburger flavor at the back of her throat and she really wished she couldn’t. “Um, why do you call it the Juice of Refreshment?” she asked, trying to change the subject. “Is it some kind of juice you put in the bath water?”
“There is no water in the tub—the liquid you are bathing in is the pulped remains of ten thousand sithra fruits,” Lit’aal said.
“Really? So I’m actually taking a bath in juice?” Emily frowned, swishing her arms around in the liquid. She wished there weren’t so many flower blossoms floating on the water—they looked soft but they kept scratching and pinching her arms and back and breasts as she moved.
“Indeed you are, Khalla-to-be,” Turra said smoothly. “First the entire harvest of sithra fruits is gathered from trees found only in the Deep Blue, just for this purpose. Then they are put in a huge pit in the ground under direct sunlight and left to ripen and decay for many days.”
“They are? They just let them rot?” Suddenly Emily wasn’t quite so sure about the refreshing bath.
“After they sit long enough, their inner succulence begins to seep out—it sweats through the purple skin of the sithra fruit and forms gray droplets on the outer, waxy layer. Soon after the zetze flies come to lay their eggs in the ripened fruit. Once they hatch and their maggots begin to squirm to the surface the fruits are ready to be pulped and strained,” Turra continued.
“Did you say maggots?” Emily swallowed hard. “There are maggots in here?”
“Only their pulped remains,” Turra assured her, as if that would make her feel better. “They are necessary to keep the lisix alive until the Khalla-to-be steps into the tub and its true nourishment can begin.”
“The what?” Emily was feeling worse and worse about the lovely-looking bath. “What did you say needs nourishment?”
Just then something moved beneath the surface of the liquid. It slid against her leg, long and firm and slimy.
“Ahh!” Emily gasped and jumped, sloshing pinkish liquid over the side of the tub. “What the—there’s something in here!” she exclaimed. “I swear I just felt something brush my leg!”
“Naturally, Khalla-to-be,” Turra said. “It is the lisix, as I said.”
“A lisix?” Emily’s heart was pounding. “What the hell is a lis—”
But before she could finish the word, the slimy thing was back and this time it didn’t just brush against her. This time it wrapped a long, oily tentacle around her calf and foot and began to suck.
Emily shrieked and attempted to hoist herself out of the water but the thing clinging to her foot was surprisingly strong and didn’t want to let her go. Still, she managed to scramble most of the way out of the slippery sunken tub. Her frantic movements disarranged the floating white blossoms and for the first time she could see down into the semi-transparent pinkish liquid. Something was clinging to her foot—something black and slimy with huge blue warts growing all over its body. The warts seemed to pulse as it sucked at her skin. It was wrapped around her like a giant leech and it didn’t show any signs of letting go.
Turra and Lit’aal were kneeling by the side of the tub now, watching her anxiously.
“Help me!” Emily begged them, reaching out a hand. “Help me, please! It’s eating me alive—help!”
But to her dismay and disbelief, instead of grabbing her hand and pulling her out, Turra started trying to push her back in!
“Be calm, Khalla-to-be,” she said and there was a steely glint in her green eyes. “The lisix is not trying to eat you—it is simply trying to purify you by sucking the toxins out of your skin.”
“I don’t care what you say, I don’t want it on me!” Emily had had a horror of leeches since she was a child and had gotten one on her while swimming in a lake with her sister. And what the hell was this thing on her foot if not a giant, blue-warted leech?
“Be calm,” Turra insisted. “You must relax and let it cover every inch of you in order for all your toxins to be released.”
“Cover every inch of me?” Emily stared at her in horror. “No—no! Get it off me now!” She appealed to Lit’aal who was biting her lip in obvious agitation. “Help me—please!”
The little priestess appeared to reach some kind of decision.
“All right, here!” She grabbed Emily’s seeking hand and began helping her to get out of the sloshing liquid.
“What are you doing, Lit’aal?” Turra, who was still trying to push Emily back in the tub demanded. “Mother Chundra said we were to feed her the feast and bathe her thoroughly. We have already failed at one task—if we fail at both the consequences will be severe!”
“I don’t care—she’s in distress.” Lit’aal’s indigo eyes flashed. “We cannot allow her to harm herself through fear. Stop pushing, Turra and help me get her out!”
At last, with poor grace, the taller priestess hooked one arm under Emily’s and started to pull instead of pushing. With the extra help, Emily slid out of the tub even though the weird slug thing was still clinging to her calf and foot.
“Get it off me,” she begged brokenly. “Please, just get it off!”
“That may not be easy,” Turra said grimly. “The lisix has been fasting many months, waiting for a Khalla-to-be to feed it. It will not wish to leave you until it has cleaned every bit of your skin.”
Emily felt the other rushing to the front of her mind but this time she
welcomed her. She could feel her eyes burning and the voice that left her mouth was full of commanding authority.
“I don’t want it all over my skin. Get it off now or suffer the consequences!”
Both Lit’aal and Turra looked shaken.
“Yes, Khalla—at once!” Lit’aal leaned over her and began prying the slippery, black creature away from Emily’s leg and foot. Turra helped too, although she didn’t exactly look happy about it. After a few minutes of frantic pulling and yanking, they at last managed to peel the lisix off her and toss it back into the bathtub. It left a red mark on her skin but at least there didn’t seem to be any bleeding.
Emily dragged herself a few feet away from the slippery edge and collapsed, panting. Her heart was going at what felt like a million miles a minute and the breath was tearing in her throat. Her stomach was clenched like a fist and she was afraid all the awful food she’d just eaten was going to come rushing up at any moment.
“Khalla-to-be, are you well?” Lit’aal asked timidly, coming over to give her a towel.
“No.” Emily wrapped the towel around herself with shaking hands. “God, that was horrible—like something out of a horror movie! Why didn’t you warn me that…that thing was in the tub?”
“That thing is a rare and exotic lisix,” Turra said in a cold, angry voice. “It was brought here especially for your benefit that you might be purified before the Choosing Ceremony. Do you know how important the toxin removal treatment is? If you do not complete it, you will not be considered clean by the candidates who wish to become your chosen mate.”
“I don’t care about that,” Emily said grimly. “I’m not letting that thing get anywhere near me ever again!”
“But only think what the candidates will think,” Lit’aal said pleadingly. “The lisix sucks away not only physical poisons but also mental and emotional ones. If you will only let it cover you once and do its job you will be cleansed of all your impurities both inside and out.”
For a split second Emily was actually tempted.