Ambrosia

by Aaron Lee Yeager

  Pops thought for a moment. “All right, then, I won’t tell you.”

  Philiastra took the mallet and gave the brass gong a little tap. The ailuros behind the counter mewed something harsh in his tongue and silenced the instrument.

  “You don’t have to do that, I’m already here,” he drawled in his accented voice.

  Philiastra put her elbows on the counter. “Hey, bellhop. What’s the nicest thing you’ve got?”

  His tail flicked about cholerically. “I’m not a bellhop, I’m a concierge, and our nicest room is the penthouse suite. It comprises the entire upper floor, and comes fully equipped with a sound isolation board room and a sauna.”

  “Nice, we’ll take it.”

  “I’m sorry, the penthouse suite is already taken.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Is there a problem?”

  “No, it’s just weird, one would think you’d roll out the red carpet for your new rulers.”

  “It’s normally reserved for visiting diplomats.”

  “What would you call us?”

  His cat-like ears twitched. “Violent usurpers comes to mind.”

  “I prefer hostile takeover specialists,” Storgen confided.

  Erolina took out her golden talisman and slapped it on the desk, startling the concierge as it unfolded into the fox crest of Ambera. “Listen, I’m not exactly what you’d call a delicate woman, but even I have limits to how much disrespect I can tolerate. Your kind has been nothing but spiteful to us since we arrived.”

  “We follow the commands laid out for us by the war goddess.”

  “Ah, well, let me explain this to you using visual representation that even an ailuros can understand.”

  Erolina drew her scythe and gave two quick slashes, startling everyone nearby. As she resheathed her weapon, the statues of Nisi fell apart in crackles of crimson energy, their heads rolling to the feet of the terrified concierge.

  “Nisi is dead to you,” Erolina announced. “Only Ambera exists now. Try to keep that in mind when dealing with her emissaries.”

  The concierge looked like he might wet himself.

  “So much for keeping a low profile,” Pops sniffed.

  Storgen held up his hands. “Guys, it’s fine. I wouldn’t feel comfortable in a fancy room like that, anyway. What else do you got?”

  The concierge took out his slate and frantically tapped as fast as he could, scrolling through the glowing images projected into the air before him. “All right, all right. Tomorrow, I’ll clear out something as high up as I can. In the meantime, I have a pair of our themed rooms downstairs. The Divorceé Bungalow and the Honeymoon Suite. They’re clean and stocked and ready to go. No charge of course, compliments of the staff.”

  Erolina relented and let out a sigh. “I suppose that will work. The nymph and the old man can share the bungalow, Storgen and I will take the Honeymoon Suite.”

  Philiastra turned around. “You can’t do that!”

  “Exactly,” Pops complained. “My wifus need their own bed.”

  “We can put out a futon for your dolls,” Erolina suggested.

  “They’re not dolls! They’re highly detailed collectible figurines. Representations of the great heroines of legend.”

  “Do you brush their hair?”

  “Of course.”

  “Then, they’re dolls.”

  “They’re not dolls!!!!”

  “His stupid dolls aren’t the problem,” Philiastra wailed. “Storgen and the amazon can’t share a room!”

  “Could you all please keep your voices down?” the concierge pleaded. “There are other guests arriving.”

  Erolina folded her arms. “Storgen and I are both champions of Ambera. It is tradition for the champion to be housed separately from the support staff.”

  “You know that’s not the problem,” Philiastra fretted.

  “Oh, so you’re saying you’d rather sleep with Storgen?”

  Philiastra blushed bright green. “What are you saying? Tha-that’s not what I meant at all!” She turned to the concierge. “Give me that card. Guys in one room, girls in the other.”

  The ailuros handed over the paperwork and a quill with trembling paws.

  “This is a horrible breech in protocol,” Erolina observed.

  Storgen shrugged. “For once, I agree with Phili, it wouldn’t be proper.”

  The amazon chortled. “Proper? Now there’s a word I never thought I’d hear out of your pretty little mouth.”

  She let her eyes become a little bit smoky as she stepped closer. “What’s wrong? Can’t trust yourself around me?”

  Her voice became a sultry purr as she traced her finger across his muscular chest. “Do I need to tie you to the bed so you don’t try to take advantage of me during the night?”

  With a whoosh something sped between them and implanted itself into the wall with a thud. They looked at the quill as it vibrated from the impact like an arrow, then back at Philiastra who was standing there coldly.

  “Sorry, my hand slipped,” she said icily.

  Storgen swatted Erolina’s finger away and took a couple steps back. “No, I don’t mean you and me. I mean, it wouldn’t be proper for Pops and Phili to share a room.”

  Philiastra looked over the old man suspiciously. “Yeah, you might have a point, there.”

  Pops rocked back in offense. “Pah, why in the cosmos would I have any interest in a real life girl when I have my heroines?” He took out a busty figurine and nuzzled it to his cheek. “Philiastra could never compare to the Jade Empress.”

  Philiastra stuck out her tongue. “You are so pathetic, old man, you know that?”

  “Oh, I’m sorry, I seem to have given you the impression that your opinion is requested or valued. Sorry for the miscommunication.”

  The concierge took the cards and began filing the paperwork with record speed.

  Erolina leaned back against the remains of Nisi’s statue. “So, now that you’ve searched here, are you going to disappear during the night?”

  Storgen waved his hand. “Nah, the next ship for Limáni doesn’t leave for a week, so you’ve got me until then.”

  “Otherwise you would have snuck off already?”

  “You know me so well.”

  “I swear, you are so predictable in your unpredictability.”

  With sweat streaming down his fur, the concierge cleared his throat and held out the room keys. “If you please, there are other guests waiting in line behind you.”

  “Oh, right,” Storgen said, taking his key as they were directed towards a staircase leading towards the basement.

  “It’s weird though,” Storgen commented as he gathered up the bags. “I really felt like this was going to be the one, right? Like I really felt like she was close this time. Right here in my chest. I can’t quite explain it.”

  “Never attribute to fate that which can adequately be explained by heartburn.”

  As they walked down the steps and out of sight, the next two guests in line stepped up to the counter.

  “Oh, wow, now this is what I am talking about, sis! This whole champion thing in finally starting to pay off,” the younger siren exclaimed, her long pointed ears perking up as she looked at their opulent surroundings. “Would you just look at this place?”

  The other siren fretted as she dug through her bag, pulling a stray strand of lavender hair away from her face. “I know. It’s waay too expensive for our budget, but it’s the only place with a soundproof meeting room.”

  The concierge covered his chest and remembered to breathe. “May I have your names, please?”

  “Ah yes,” she said, producing a celestial seal. “Agaprei Aria Sonata and Kaia Adagio Sonata.”

  He touched his claw to the glowing surface and it unfolded into a golden scroll written by the goddess Mónos herself.

  “Ah, yes, the diplomats from Agadis. We were expecting you this morning.”

  Agaprei looked over the destroyed statues. “Sorry, our
ship was delayed by hunters from the Alchemy Tower. We just barely arrived in port.”

  “They’re stopping every ship in the area,” Kaia complained.

  The concierge moved some sigils around on his slate and handed them a pair of cards. “Your penthouse suite is ready; if you would just fill these out.”

  “Oh! Look!” Kaia gushed. “They have a masseuse standing by! Let’s order a pair.”

  Agaprei adjusted her spectacles. “I’m not going to pay to have some oily man touch me.”

  “Then pay for me to have an oily man touch me instead. Ohh, I’ve always wanted a professional massage.”

  “Stop it. You’re going to embarrass me. Remember, we are here as representatives of our nation.”

  “And our nation loves oily men, so I don’t see the conflict. Ooh, do you think they sell jellyfish here?”

  Agaprei took the cards and looked around. “May I have a quill, please?”

  “Right there, ma’am.”

  They looked at the quill impaled into the wall.

  “How did that happen?”

  “And all this,” Kaia added, pointing to the rubble.

  “We’re under new management, I’m afraid.”

  Agaprei yanked the quill free and began to fill out the cards while her sister fawned over the list of amenities.

  Erolina came running back up the stairs. “Hang on, I’ll be right back, I left my talisman up there.”

  She grabbed her talisman off the end of the counter and folded it back up, then froze in place. There, standing before her, were a pair of sirens, one of which had beautiful lavender hair. Erolina recognized her the instant she saw her. It was the young woman from Storgen’s paintings. Some of the details were a little fuzzy. Her ears were pointed, her cheekbones a little higher, and her lips a little fuller. But the eyes, the eyes were spot on, immediately recognizable, deep and penetrating, soft yet strong. Erolina had never seen eyes so flawlessly captured in a painting before, not even by the finest auto-brushes.

  Erolina stood there in shock, as if she had just seen a ghost.

  Agaprei accepted her room key and nearly bumped into her, as startled to see Erolina as she was to see her.

  “Oh, my apologies,” Agaprei stammered.

  “Whoa! Just look at those holy gifts. She’s beautiful,” Kaia blustered.

  Agaprei noticed Erolina’s shining metallic hair. “You’re a champion…I’ve heard of you, the Scythe of Ambera, if I am not mistaken.”

  “Um, yes,” Erolina bumbled, barely able to form a thought in her head.

  Agaprei put her fist across her chest and bowed at the waist in the champion’s salute. “I am Agaprei, champion to Mónos of Agadis, and this is my attendant, Kaia.”

  “Hi!” Kaia waved. “You’re an amazon, right? Big fan.”

  “Scythe, may your renown reach every corner of the earth. I look forward to crossing blades with you in duelist court one day.”

  Erolina barely had the presence of mind to bow and return the traditional greeting. She had gotten so used to Storgen calling her by her given name as of late, it took her a moment to remember who ‘Scythe’ was.

  Agaprei bowed again. “I must beg your pardon, I must prepare my quarters for important visitors.”

  Erolina stepped aside, watching in shock as Agaprei and Kaia walked into the clockwork lift and pulled the control levers.

  As the doors slid closed, Storgen came running up the stairs after her.

  “Hey Erolina.”

  She didn’t respond.

  “So, did you find it?”

  She didn’t answer, just stood there in a kind of daze, staring at the lift doors.

  Storgen walked up and gave her a nudge with his elbow. “Hey, you okay?”

  She half turned to face him, her eyes distant. She opened her mouth as if to speak, but then closed it again.

  He waved his hand in front of her face. “Hey, you still in there, or are you having an out of body experience?”

  She blinked. “Um, yeah…I’m fine.”

  “What was that?”

  She reached up and fingered her locket. “Hmmm? Oh, ah. Nothing, it’s nothing.”

  “Well, did you get your thing?”

  For a moment she couldn’t recall what he was talking about, but then looked down and found her talisman in her hands.

  “Um, yeah, I got it.”

  He waved her on. “Well, come on then, let’s get unpacked.”

  “Ah…all right. Hey, do they have a mini bar? I’ll…ah, make you one of my special drinks.”

  “I didn’t know you made drinks. That’s so domestic of you.”

  “No, it’s really not.”

  She followed him down the stairs and into the basement.

  * * *

  Even in the dark of night the Honeymoon Suite practically dripped of tackiness. Heart-shaped mirrors, floral tapestries, aromatic candles burning for so long the scent was practically caked into the walls. A heart-shaped bathtub carved from a single slab of quartz crystal, trails of freshly dropped flower petals leading in and out of the changing room. A sunken private plunge pool leading to an artificial grotto. Walk in rain-showers and a dedicated spa room. Even the temples of Delia herself, Godmother of Poetry, were not nearly so gaudy.

  The door handle moved ever so slightly, the pin tumbler inside teased at each step, making no more noise than the whisper of a falling feather.

  The door cracked open for only a moment, a shadow slipping inside, silent as the grave, quick as a thought. The door closed again and all was it was before, save for a slight bending of the air in the rough outline of a person watching from behind the crystal dining table, where a collection of Pop’s dolls had been meticulously arranged. As patient as a predator, the intruder allowed the atmosphere of the room to settle, the only sound the steady breathing coming from the lavish heart-shaped bed where Storgen slept.

  The silhouette moved closer, the air bending ever so slightly like curved glass, each footfall timed with a breath, each motion failing to disturb even the air itself. When it stopped, the silhouette vanished completely. The intruder gave off no scent, no heat, no presence at all. Even if Storgen had awoken, the suite would have felt and looked completely empty.

  The intruder came to the side of the bed, where a bubbling beverage sat half drunk, the strong odor of alcohol rising up into the still night air. Suddenly, the glassy shape of two arms rose up, and an invisible hood was pulled back, revealing a beautiful face of satiny skin and a head of long lavender hair.

  Agaprei unfastened the clasp, and the spell was broken, her magical cloak falling away, revealing her provocative nightgown clinging to her delicious curves. She peeled up the edge of the sheets and slipped inside, Storgen stirred only slightly as the bed adjusted to her presence. She could barely contain her excitement as she slinked up beside him, feeling the warmth of his body beneath the smooth sheets. She couldn’t be sure how drunk he was, so she gave a little test, nuzzling up to his neck, and giving the back of his ear a little kiss.

  Storgen barely stirred.

  “I’ve been waiting for this,” she whispered, and became more aggressive in her efforts, wrapping her arm around his midsection, draping her leg atop him as her lips found his and began to kiss him passionately.

  “Who are you?” he asked drunkenly.

  “You ask me that? Haven’t you been searching for me?”

  She kissed him again. He was sluggish to respond, his lips parting only slightly as she grew more aggressive. She closed her eyes, savoring the sensation. When he rolled onto his side to catch his breath, she pressed her prestigious bosom onto his back, and teased her fingers over the top of his bald head.

  Agaprei’s eyes shot open.

  “Bald head?”

  She reached over and tapped the light sigil, and the room’s rock-salt lanterns burned to life, whiting out her vision. It only took a second for her eyes to adjust, but that was all it took. She found herself staring right at Pops, who rub
bed his eyes and looked back up at her.

  Agaprei screamed like a banshee, crawling backwards and knocking over the end table, flipping the contents over and sending a lamp smashing down to the floor.

  Pops screamed just as loud, jumping away on wobbly legs and smacking into the wall, jostling a painting loose and sending it smashing down on top of him.

  His scream made her shriek even louder. She tried to come to her feet, but her ankles got tied up in the fallen bedsheets and she fell backwards, smashing the crystal dining table to pieces and splashing belly-first into the plunge pool, along with a dozen or so of the dolls.

  The water fouled up the changeling bracelet she wore, and amid sparks and smoke, the magical illusion peeled off of her as she came to the surface, revealing Erolina beneath.

  Seeing his heroines drowning in the water, Pops tried to run heroically to their rescue, but slipped in his haste on a trail of flower pedals and landed atop the glass dessert carafe, smashing it to pieces and knocking over the wine chiller, ice spilling out all over the floor.

  The door flung open and Storgen stood there with a bag of groceries, finding Pops covered in frosting and pastry as he rolled amid the ice cubes in pain, and Erolina half-drowned as she frantically splashed around in the plunge pool, trying to peel the wrapped bedsheets off herself.

  “What the crap is going on?!!!!”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Where once there had been celestial temples and ivory towers, now there was only rubble amid the shattered clouds.

  Where once there had been endless orchards of white trees, now only stumps and cinders remained.

  Ruined.

  Ruined all.

  The gods returned to find their habitation laid waste by the Fates. Never again would laughter fall from the sky. Instead, only tears to wet the mortal terra below. Never again would song be carried on the winds from the north, now only frigid air blew from the silent, ancient capital.

  A haunting graveyard of foundations, corpses of buildings, silent and eerie, blackening with death. Ghastly gnarled remains of a golden era. Ghostly whispers of splendor gone. Chilling embers of paradise lost. Forever floating in the skies as a warning to all.