Holo gave a brief nod and a somewhat less coordinated salute, and headed for the main floor of the restaurant, still looking drunk, but now fiercely determined as well.
"So do we just pass them out one by one?" Jon said, after the swinging doors closed behind Holo's retreating back. "Isn't that kind of the slow way?"
Wreg shrugged. "We're responsible to see that they get into the right hands...easiest way to do that is one by one. I figure I can probably identify most of the ones you can't...and Yumi and Vikram can get the rest. If anyone's a question, we'll leave them to the end. I'm sure between us we can sort it out. Worst comes to worst, we'll drag Tarsi in here..." He gave Jon a level look. "The lovebirds are last...but you probably guessed that."
Jon shook his head. "Actually, no. In weddings I've been to, the married couple eats first. Everyone else eats after. They feed each other...it's usually messy, involves stuffing cake in each other's mouths..."
Wreg shook his head, chuckling a little. "And you call us barbaric?" He smiled again, and Jon saw the humor in his eyes. "Well, pick a few, and we'll start bringing them out. Gods know when Holo will be back...and what shape the others will be in when they get here..." Picking up a few of the plates filled with cakes that had long, convoluted seer names written on them, Wreg added, glancing over his shoulder. "...And be sure and tell them to eat them as soon as we give them to them. Everyone needs to have eaten before the Bridge and the Sword do..."
Jon nodded, "Gotcha."
He was already grabbing the nearest plates with names he recognized. They each held round, Alice in Wonderland type cakes on which someone had written JAMES EDWARD TAYLOR and MARCUS CARL TAYLOR in blue and purple frosting.
Pushing out through the swinging doors with his backside, Jon only had to look around for a few seconds before he found his uncle and his cousin sitting at one of the tables with Tom and Miranda, two of Aunt Carol's kids and Jon's other cousins. Setting the plate down in front of them, he had to slap Miranda's fingers to keep her from trying to get at the frosting, then explained that each of them had to eat the cakes right away, and that no one else could eat their cakes but them, that they'd been individually prepared. They all looked confused with the exception of Uncle James himself, who looked charmed by the whole thing somehow. When Jon started to back off to leave, he caught Jon's arm. Jon was surprised to see tears in his eyes, right before he spoke quieter in Jon's ear.
"Your father would have loved this, you know," he said.
Jon nodded, feeling his face tighten.
Being reminded of dad, now, when he was still in the middle of the thing about Dorje, was a little too much. But he only smiled, and squeezed his uncle's surprisingly frail-feeling shoulder. He'd always thought of Uncle James as the young one, being ten years younger than their father, and as a big man...but he looked old to Jon suddenly, and borderline frail despite his height. It occurred to him that Uncle James had to be pushing seventy by now...but even so, he didn't look as well as he should.
"Don't let them eat your cake, Uncle James," he said, smiling back. "That one was made especially for you, all right? Same with Marcus...don't let him get noble with his cousins. Theirs are on their way...promise."
Uncle James nodded, that brightness still in his eyes as he squeezed the hand Jon had on his shoulder in return. "Leave it to me, Jon."
Jon gave him a last pat, and then returned to the kitchen, feeling more out of it and sick than he had before.
He should be spending more time talking to these people. He might not ever see Uncle James or Aunt Carol again after today. It was the least he could do, after leaving them in the dark about where they were and what condition they were in for the past three or four years.
But instead of going back out to sit with them, he scooped up two more plates and walked back out to deliver them to his cousins, Tom and Miranda. Once he'd finished with theirs, he went more into autopilot mode, grabbing plates with names he recognized and delivering them, along with the same speech he'd given Uncle James and Marcus and whoever else happened to be listening. By the time he returned to the kitchen the fifth time, Holo had returned with most of the other seers on Wreg's list, and the plates were disappearing a lot faster.
It seemed like only a handful of minutes later before Allie's and Revik's cake was the last one sitting there, apart from all of theirs. Jorag, Vikram, Jax and Neela disappeared out the doors with their plates clutched in their hands, leaving Holo, Yumi, Wreg and Jon staring at their own plates on the metal rolling trays that now stood empty over most of the kitchen floor.
"Eat up, brother," Wreg said, handing him the plate that had a round, thick cake with JON SEBASTIAN written on it. "When we're finished, we'll have Tarsi check that the others are all finished, too..."
"Do I do anything before I ––" Jon began.
"Eat!" Wreg said, pointing at him with a flourish, even as he picked up his own plate. "Try to use your light, if you can, but don't worry if you can't. It won't really matter, either way. You'll find out why, soon enough..."
Jon couldn't help thinking that he wouldn't feel much of anything right then, given how drunk he was, but he dutifully picked up the cake.
Like the others, his had perfect fondant frosting, making it look more like subtly-colored porcelain than something to eat. He supposed that was appropriate though, too, given that it was the same frosting he saw on a lot of wedding cakes, if a lot more brightly colored than most of the human variety. It occurred to him suddenly that each cake had a personalized, impressionistic image on it as well...that the designs weren't as abstract as he'd originally believed. Looking down at his own plate now, on the metal countertop of the industrial kitchen, Jon realized his cake showed an image of the world.
Specifically, it held the impressions of major cities across the globe, and the oceans between. It was vague, and he wondered if he would have even seen if he hadn't already been looking at everything cock-eyed because of the Sarhacienne wine.
He glanced at Wreg's cake as the giant seer brought his plate to the same section of counter. His looked like an abstract sword and sun symbol, Jon noticed...but there was an image of the bridge over it as well. He glanced at Holo's on his other side, and saw what looked like fire, along with green fields and buildings under blue sky. Yumi's looked to be made of snow-covered mountains over an image of what Jon could only think must be a turtle. They were all different sizes, and Jon now wondered if that was as much to accommodate the designs as the colors themselves. Yumi smiled at him, crinkling the elaborate blue tattoo that covered one side of her face. Winking at him, she picked up her cake.
Wreg picked his up, too.
Jon watched curiously as the seer took a tentative bite. It occurred to him only then that, despite his bluster, Wreg's own movements held more than a little caution. Perhaps that was because Tarsi made the cakes, and Wreg had once worked for her in the Adhipan. Jon didn't know the story there, but he'd caught a few comments that led him to believe that Tarsi still held a grudge about his leaving. Anyway, Jon suspected Wreg still wasn't entirely sure how he felt about all of these Seven "kneelers."
He put on a good show, probably for Revik's benefit, but looking at him now, Jon realized that Wreg felt more out of place here than he usually pretended.
Somehow, it made him see the seer's efforts to befriend him in a slightly different light. Maybe he'd been doing it because he'd been ordered to train Jon, like he said...but maybe that hadn't been the only reason. After all, Jon and Allie and Revik were kind of in their own little world as it was, cut off from the others.
Maybe Wreg felt a little bit like that, too.
Maybe all of that was going through Wreg's mind as he sampled his own cake. Or maybe he just knew more about what was in store for him, because he'd done something like this before.
Either way, Jon watched Wreg's expression change gradually as he chewed.
His eyes changed the most noticeably, his pupils contracting slowly to pinpricks before he'd fi
nished swallowing his first bite...and despite the fact that his face remained in shadow where he faced away from the bright kitchen lights.
Great, Jon thought. So now we all really will be bombed.
He could already anticipate having to explain to Uncle James about how their new nephew-in-law's family dosed him and his son with some kind of seer LSD during their niece's wedding ceremony. The fact that they'd come at all, considering her new husband was believed to the most notorious seer terrorist on the planet, was already more than a small leap of faith.
Wincing at the thought, Jon picked up his cake anyway.
He already knew he'd eat it. It was tradition, it was a wedding, it was Allie and Revik and Tarsi, and who was he to argue? Even as he thought it, he took a big bite out of the side of his own, earth-shaped cake...filling his mouth with easily twice the amount of cake as either Wreg or Holo's more mincing and experimental bites could have done.
Wreg laughed as he saw Jon struggling to chew the mouthful, and then took a larger bite of his own cake as well. Soon they were all four chewing energetically, frosting on their mouths and lips, and grinning like idiots. Or Jon assumed he was grinning, too, since it was getting harder to chew and his face was starting to hurt.
"Shouldn't 'White Rabbit' be playing in the background?" Jon asked, after swallowing most of what was in his mouth from the third bite.
Holo and Yumi looked at Jon in some confusion, but Wreg laughed again, louder that time. Trust Wreg to know what he meant. Then again, from what Allie told him, Revik probably would have caught the reference, too.
Jon took another bite, even as he realized that, joking aside, he really was starting to feel weird.
"What the hell did she do to these cakes?" Jon said, slurring again.
He found he was holding onto the counter as he paused between bites, tightly enough that his knuckles looked white.
Wreg swallowed his mouthful, already motioning with his hands. His words came out in a kind of blurred rush, not exactly slurred, but definitely jumbled.
"Barrier incantations...rituals. Connect you to your timeline...see your future..." He wiped his mouth energetically with one hand, pupils swallowed in the dark brown of his irises. "You see from that high space for as long as the effect lasts...as long as you need to, maybe...don't know. Different for everyone. Also different depending on the seer who makes them...these are doozies, little brother. That old seer, she's still got some serious spark..."
Jon did his best to follow all that, watching Wreg in a kind of fascination as the large seer took another whopping bite out of his cake. Jon was sure he'd eat his own fingers if he wasn't careful. Then he replayed the seer's words, making sense of only a few of them.
"Future?" Jon snorted, talking through another bite of cake. "Why the fuck would I want to see that? My whole race is being exterminated, man..."
"Not the future, little brother," Wreg corrected him. "Your future. That includes your future after this world dies..."
He gestured wildly with his hands again, even as Yumi started swaying on her feet and, Jon was sure he heard it wrong at first, but then he realized he hadn't. Yumi was...giggling. Giggling and staring at the tattoo on her face in the reflection in the metal shelving unit over the counter. She moved the design around by prodding her cheeks with one finger, then by blowing them up with air, so that she looked like a fish.
"Stop that," Jon told her, pointing at her with a frown. "Stop that right now. You're freaking me out...seriously."
Yumi draped an arm over Jon's shoulder, grinning at Wreg. "I tried to seduce this little one once, you know," she said, chomping on another bite of cake. "He only likes cock, Wreg...so you might have a better chance..." Glancing down at Wreg's crotch, she giggled again. "Might, brother...might..."
"Piss off, most respected sister..." Wreg said, shoving her arm off Jon.
Jon looked between them, feeling deeply offended, but without any real idea as to why.
He continued to stare between them, even as he chewed on his own piece of cake, feeling his chest start to burn with a hotter fire, making it hard to stand still.
Pretty soon, he couldn't really stay silent, either.
"Are you talking about me?" he said finally, to Yumi. "That's not cool...not cool at all...what did I ever do to you? I was polite...very polite..." He waved his hand at her, frowning. "No need to bring my...body parts into it..." His frown deepened. "You should be practicing, you know. You should be seeing through walls, sister Yumi...like Superman!"
Yumi laughed aloud at that, covering her mouth with one frosting-coated hand.
"Is someone even supervising this?" Jon asked sternly, looking between them.
Wreg gave him a bewildered look, as if the idea hadn't occurred to him.
Yumi looked alarmed, though. Her eyes darted around the room, pausing at all of the corners, as if she expected some imminent attack.
When Jon glanced at Holo, he saw the seer sitting on the kitchen floor, patting the rubber floor mats experimentally with one hand, a bemused look on his face as the rubber bounced back under his fingers.
"Hey!" Jon said. He realized suddenly he was yelling. "Get off of there, man! That shit is filthy! You'll get sick off that shit, man!"
Holo looked up, his expression holding a kind of horror.
"Get up!" Jon said, motioning at him frantically with a hand. He looked at Wreg. "Don't let him sit down there...jesus, man. He's your brother!"
Wreg looked concerned then too, and moved quickly over to help Holo back to his feet. Once he got him upright once more, he brushed Holo's clothes off with care, handing him the plate with the rest of his cake. Then, as if unsure what else to do, he gave the other seer a one-armed hug, patting him on the back.
"That's much better!" Jon said, relieved. "Jesus, man...you had me worried. We need you. You know that, right? Why do you think Revik was freaking out about you staying?"
"Staying?" Wreg looked around at the others. "Are you going somewhere, little brother?"
"Not me," Jon said impatiently. "You. All of you...I'm going home."
"Home, where?"
"Where do you think?"
But Wreg only continued to look confused, and Jon was having trouble focusing on what they were even talking about. Instead of responding to the seer's confusion, he just nodded, stuffing another bite in his mouth and chewing.
"So this is seer witchcraft?" he said. "You guys cast spells now? ...Because...wow. You really needed more freaky things..."
Wreg walked up to him, still looking concerned. "I will go with you, little brother. To this place. I think the gods will it...so I will go." Laying a hand on Jon's arm, he nodded as if making a solemn pledge, his dark face serious under those pupil-less eyes.
Jon stuffed another bite in his mouth and just nodded again, chewing.
There was so little cake left, yet it seemed to be everywhere. What he'd thought was cake was actually his fingers, covered in cake. Would it be gross to lick them off? Should he wash them? The idea of wasting even a bite of Tarsi's work horrified him. She'd been here, day after day...slaving over cakes for all of them.
And Vash wasn't even here to help her.
Jon found he was crying as he sucked frosting off his fingers, wiping his eyes with the other hand, only to realize that hand had cake on it as well, and he wasted some when it ended up in his hair, which only upset him more. He had frosting on his jacket, on his face, his hair...he was a mess, and everyone would know what he'd done. There was way too much to hide it all.
Still, he had to try. He did his best, and after what seemed an interminable length of time, he found himself starting to relax.
The damage was contained.
He got his fingers and hands licked clean and the stuff out of his hair and rubbed mostly invisible or licked off his tuxedo jacket. By the time he could breathe freely again, he found the others had already finished, and looked shockingly clean, despite the faint smear of frosting on Wreg's mandarin-style
tuxedo coat and another on Yumi's dark red dress. They all looked like they'd taken showers somewhere in the kitchen while Jon had been preoccupied by cleaning himself like some kind of deranged, human-sized cat, using only his tongue.
What freaked Jon out more though was that Wreg, Yumi and Holo were all looking at him, as if waiting for him to do something.
All three of them looked strangely clear, too.
"Cake," Jon blurted, nearly shouting it again. "We have to bring them their cake!"
Wreg's eyes lit up, right before he gave him a conspiratorial smile. "Right you are, little brother...that's our job!"
Yumi and Holo were already scrambling for the rolling metal server, each holding one side of the handle as they began to shove it towards the swinging doors of the kitchen. Jon began walking towards those same doors to hold them open, when someone burst in, looking at them with pupil-less eyes, their voice so loud it seemed to pierce Jon's brain.
"What's going on in here?" Neela shouted. "Why haven't you brought the Sword and Bridge's cake?"
"We're coming!" Wreg bellowed back. "Go back inside and keep everything under control! You're obviously, seriously not okay, lieutenant!"
She looked at him as if he'd slapped her. Tears came to her eyes, right before she turned around to leave. She shouted back through the still-swinging doors.
"That old woman told me to check! She told me to find you! I was doing my duty!"
Wreg only grumbled but nudged Jon back to open the doors. Jon took a deep breath, then did as the seer told him, holding open the swinging door on one side while Wreg took the other. Yumi and Holo rolled the cake out so fast Jon was sure they would capsize the whole cart.
"Watch it!" he yelled, grasping at Holo's tuxedo coat, but the seer slipped out of his grasp.
The cart didn't capsize. When Jon looked up next, he found himself halfway across the floor, the kitchen far behind him. Thankfully, it was darker in this room, which made him relax enough that he could breathe freely again.
"Gods." He realized suddenly he was gripping Wreg's hand. "We have to get out of here..." he muttered.
Allie's War Season Three Page 51
