“I’m not that old.”
“THAT is the part that bothers you?”
“Shouldn’t it be?”
“Well, when you want to seduce a man, what do you usually do?”
“I just ask. Men aren’t difficult to seduce. I think you’re just bad at it.”
“Or maybe your advice is just bad. I mean, have YOU managed to seduce Storgen?”
“Watch it, nymph.”
“Prove me wrong, then. What should I do next?”
Erolina narrowed her eyes. “Make him jealous.”
“Jealous?”
“Yes, flirt with another guy, and make sure Storgen sees you doing it. It’ll make him jealous and he’ll react.”
Philiastra recoiled at the suggestion. “I’m not sure I’m comfortable with that.”
“It’s the way of the human heart. When one flees, the other is compelled to pursue. It is only when they are threatened with losing the women in their lives that men realize how much they would miss them. The thought of losing you will compel him to claim you as his own.”
Philiastra thought for a moment. “That makes sense, I’ve heard my mom brag that she got my dad’s attention that way.”
She looked up, resolved. “Okay, I’ll try it.”
“One more thing. We’re going to dye your hair lavender.”
“I don’t have hair, I have leaves.”
“Then we’ll paint them. It’s the same logic behind the perfume. When he comes to save you while your hair is lavender, it will connect his feelings to you.”
~
Storgen tossed a cookie into his mouth. “So, do you guys have, like, one baby at a time, or do you have a whole litter?”
Paliágáta’s whiskers twitched irritably. “Every ailuros is born as a twin, a boy and a girl, and they carry within them the wisdom of the stone, and the courage of the ages,” he explained, whipping around his magic key held at the end of his prehensile tail.
“Minotaur only have child when woman feel like mating,” Shield explained between swigs of wine. “Many go thousands of years without child.”
“No wonder you minotaurs are so angry all the time.”
“That is racist stereotype, but also very true.”
The three of them were distracted by the sound of a woman laughing. It was pleasant, but about three times as loud as was necessary.
“You are so funny,” Philiastra purred, placing her hand on the wrist of the handsome man she spoke to, her leafy hair now a lovely shade of lavender. “What did you say your name was?”
“Lord Krýo Fidi,” he said with a courtly bow. “It has been my pleasure to meet many beastmen, but never have I met one as lovely as you.”
~
Inside the office, Erolina sat up straight, her heart turning to ice inside of her. “Philiastra, who is that man you are talking to?”
~
Philiastra giggled, placing her hand on the man’s shoulder. “You have such a strange aura about you. I don’t think I’ve even met a human with such a spiritual flame. Are all the men of Agadis as well-spoken as you are?”
She gave Storgen a sidelong glance to make sure he was watching.
“Philiastra, don’t ignore me. Where are you right now?” Erolina asked through their earrings.
“We have a tribe of dryads living in the forests outside the capital,” Lord Krýo explained. “I know they are distant cousins to your people, perhaps I could arrange a visit?”
“Uh, huh,” Philiastra answered, barely paying attention to either of them. Her focus was solely on Storgen.
Storgen watched dispassionately, betraying no more emotion than a man sitting on a park bench. Philiastra could feel her frustration impelling her to try harder.
“Blast, it, Philiastra, where are you? I can’t see you with all these people in the way.”
Lord Krýo cleared his throat. “Forgive me, but you appear to be melting, Miss Thavma.”
“Wha?”
Philiastra looked back, and found a droplet of lavender paint on her arm. Another globule landed beside the first.
“Holy crap on a stick,” she piped, feeling a trickle run down her cheek.
~
Erolina climbed up on a chair and checked every face in the crowd, “I know you’re here. I’d know that voice anywhere.”
“You did that on purpose!” Philiastra yelled as she ran past, grabbing Erolina’s hand and dragging her back inside the office, lavender paint drips all over her new dress.
“The paint was dry when you left,” Erolina said, still trying to get a view through the cracked open door.
“Well, you must have done something to it. Set a reaction into the pigment that would trigger at a specific time.”
“My magic doesn’t work that way. What you are describing is an alchemic spell.”
Philiastra pulled out a towel and began to clean herself up. “Well, I certainly didn’t do this, so it must have been you.”
Erolina stood up. “Look, I’ll not have my honor impugned. I’m distracted enough as it is. I said I didn’t do it and I meant it.”
Suddenly she grew a little light-headed and had to steady herself against the desk. “There it is again…it’s getting stronger…”
“There’s what?”
“Never mind. What is the next plan?”
Philiastra wrapped the towel around her hair. “Very well. Show him that you are comfortable around him, and he will feel comfortable around you. Eat big, just pound it away. Be one of the guys. Challenge him to an eating contest.”
~
Storgen and Shield stood in line behind Hosteller Eban as they made their way through the buffet line.
“So, how are you making the adjustment to worshipping a new god?” Storgen asked, placing a sausage on his plate.
Opposite them, Erolina shouldered her way into the line and grabbed two sausages, looking over her shoulder at every opportunity.
Eban waggled his head. “It’s not too bad. This is the second time I have been part of a hostile takeover.”
“Really?” Storgen inquired, as he grabbed an ear of corn.
Erolina grabbed three ears of corn, scanning the balconies above them.
Shield snorted, his hot breath on the back of his neck nearly made Storgen wince.
“Eban here was part of the Godmother of Poetry’s familia,” Shield explained. “We won him when he conquered the town of Álas from Delia.”
“You’re a poet?” Storgen asked, grabbing a juicy rib bone.
Erolina took five rib bones, her plate overflowing as she checked the entrances.
Eban clutched the magic key hanging around his neck. “Yes, I had to give it all up when Nisi took over my shrine. Now, after thirty years, I am expected to take it up again.”
The three of them took their seats at an empty table. Erolina sat opposite of them, her muscles taut as if a race were about to begin.
“But I bet it’s not that easy,” Storgen supposed, taking a bite of sausage.
Erolina wolfed down both her sausages before Storgen finished his.
Eban nodded. “They tell me once you’ve learned something, you never forget it, but it’s not like they say.”
Storgen took a bite of corn as he listened. Erolina grabbed an ear with each hand and began devouring her corn as fast as she could while she watched the stage.
“My poems came from the heart,” Eban explained. “When I was forced to hide my talent, it was like capping a well...”
Storgen picked up his rib and took a bite. Erolina, still with mouthfuls of corn, grabbed two of her ribs and began gnawing as fast as she could while looking over the musicians.
Eban looked up sadly. “After so much time, the well has dried up. I can write, but I have nothing to write about.”
“Nothing to share,” Storgen added solemnly.
Erolina coughed, her cheeks so full of food she could barely draw breath.
Storgen looked over at her, perplexed. “Erolina, what
the heck are you doing?!”
Erolina looked back and forth, her face and hands covered with sauce.
“Eating,” she mumbled.
~
Erolina shouldered open the office door, nearly ripping off the hinges.
“Your turn,” she announced in aggravation. “You’ve made him a home-cooked meal.”
“But I can’t cook,” Philiastra said, pulling her dress out of an alchemic bath to make sure it was clean.
“Hey. I thought you were done using alchemy?”
“Just this once,” she said,” hiding the dress behind her back.
Erolina cocked an eyebrow. “You like the dress I picked out, don’t you?”
Philiastra looked away. “No.”
Erolina stepped closer. “You like the way men look at you when you wear it, don’t you?”
“As if I would be so shallow. I was only cleaning it so it would not become an obstacle to winning over Storgen.”
Her armband sparkled accusingly.
“Shut up, Odelia.”
Erolina clucked her tongue. “Uh huh, well you’re in luck, your next step is already prepared.”
The amazon produced a covered silver tray. “You’ve made him his favorite meal.”
“But, I didn’t make that.”
“It doesn’t matter. Haven’t you ever heard? The third best way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.”
“The third best way? What are the first two?”
Erolina gave her a coy look.
“N-never mind,” Philiastra stammered. “I don’t wanna’ hear it.”
~
“I made this just for you,” Philiastra beamed, setting the tray down before Storgen.
“You cooked this yourself? I thought you didn’t cook.”
“A lady has to retain some level of mystery,” she cooed, sitting down next to him and scooting her chair alongside him, so she could feel his delicious body pressed up against hers.
“Mystery very good thing,” Shield said between bites of sausage. “My wife had bunion for thirty-seven years before I find out. Now I wish I never knew. I tell you, ignorance is the bliss.”
“I’m going to feed it to you,” Philiastra said daringly, pressing up against him as she ran her fingers across the handle.
“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather feed it to that Fidi guy?”
“Oh, don’t be silly,” she teased. “He’s just a friend.”
“A friend, huh?”
Philiastra leaned in and whispered into Storgen’s ear, so close her lips all but touched his skin. “I know you’re going to like it.”
Philiastra lifted the lid, revealing a spectacularly arranged garden salad. The leaves of lettuce fanned out around the circumference like the petals of a flower, the slices of cucumber blossomed around the center, each skillfully notched like a pinwheel. The cherry tomatoes in the center were sliced to take on the appearance of stamen. The light dressing hung like dew on the petals, and a tiny hummingbird carved from a slice of avocado perched before the blossoming flower.
“Oh wow,” Storgen praised. “That’s amazing. The whole thing looks like a flower.”
Philiastra was rooted in place, her eyes blinking rapidly as she looked down on the dish.
“But, I thought you hated salad,” he said. “Why would you make one for me?”
Philiastra stood there shaking, making little gag noises as a drop of sweat rolled down her face.
“What? Are you kidding? It’s no big deal. Just…a bowl filled with…corpses of plants…”
She looked at the salad as if it were the most ghastly thing she had ever seen.
Shield held out a fork. “Go ahead, feed salad you made. Is very important to make man happy.”
Philiastra looked at the fork. It took all her courage to grab it. Her hand trembling, she lowered the utensil, the tines coming closer and closer to the glistening surface of the salad.
“Are you all right, Phili?” Storgen asked, noticing that she was having trouble breathing.
She pushed a little harder, and the fork pierced the lettuce with a crunchy snap.
“I CAN’T DO IT,” she screamed, dropping the fork and running away.
~
Philiastra kicked in the door. “You did that on purpose!”
“Did what?” Erolina asked innocently as she surveyed the room.
“You know what you did! You gave me a salad to feed him.”
“What’s wrong with a salad?”
“Oh, gee, I don’t know, a whole plate of dead shredded plant flesh, what could possibly be wrong with that? I nearly threw up!”
Erolina placed her hands on her cheeks. “You mean forest nymphs don’t eat salad? I had no idea.”
Philiastra growled, blue fire erupting from her hands. “Next, go slap him on the butt, that’s how guys say hello to their friends.”
~
Shield took a bite of the salad. “Is good, but would be better with vodka.”
Erolina was visibly nervous as she approached, scouring the people around them with her eyes, but she tried to hide it with a friendly smile. “Hey Storgen, how’s it going?”
“Well, honestly, you and Phili are acting a little…”
Erolina moved to slap him on the butt, when she felt a fresh stab of kardiá kynigoú. He was looking at her; somewhere in this room she could feel that man looking right at her. She spun around just as the slap landed, lifting Storgen clear up out of his seat and sending him flying across the hall, where he splatted against the wall before collapsing to the floor.
Shield laughed heartily and clapped his hands. “This is great party.”
Erolina looked at her hand. She was sure she hadn’t hit him that hard, yet he had flown as if she had used her entire strength. Turning her hand over, she found an alchemic sigil glowing on her bracelet.
“Why you little…”
~
Erolina handed Philiastra a two-tiered cake. “Feed him a bite of this, smear a little on his cheek like at weddings.”
Philiastra snapped her fingers. “That’s right, at my uncle’s wedding, they did that. Why do humans find that romantic?”
“Who cares? But they love it.”
~
Shield lifted Storgen up to the bar. “Do you have anything for headaches?”
The barmaster nodded. “You’ll want a pónos cupcake. The jarra berries have a natural…”
“I’ll take two.”
Storgen turned around just in time to see Philiastra running towards him as best she could in the special sandals she wore.
“Storge, I have something for you. You’re going to love it. It’s…”
Philiastra tripped with a start, the cake flying out of her hands.
Storgen was hit straight on, drenched with cake from head to foot.
“Ha! Your women do this, too?” Shield bellowed.
Philiastra got up on her elbows and looked back just in time to catch a glimpse of the nearly invisible string that had tripped her before it melted away.
Shield reached down and picked Storgen up out of the cake. “You are lucky, at home it would be flaming cake.”
~
Erolina and Philiastra snarled at one another, sparks of magic flying between them.
Philiastra handed Erolina a ceremonial dagger. “This is a Hellenic Blade, used to join close families into a single oikos. To humans this is a great sign of trust. Present this to him.”
~
Priestess Cailey ran up and handed Storgen a towel. “What are you doing? You’re ruining everything.”
“You’re blaming me? I’m not doing anything,” Storgen spat, wiping the cake from his eyes. “I’m being attacked by two maniacs!”
“You’re supposed to act like a champion. Everyone is looking.”
Erolina drew closer, the ceremonial weapon in her hands.
“Get her away from me!” Storgen tried to run, but all the cake on his boots made him slip around, grabbing the bar for s
tability.
“Calm down,” Erolina bade. “This is a Hellenic Blade. It’s not even sharpened…”
Erolina tripped with a start and collided with Storgen. They both fell to the floor.
Storgen grunted in pain, grabbing at the dagger planted in his shoulder. Erolina looked back at the root that had grown up from the ground and wrapped itself around her ankle.
Shield folded his arms. “Women here just like women at home. Skinnier, yes, shorter, yes, but still very vicious.”
“You Oedipal witch!” Erolina cursed, rising to her feet as Philiastra drew near. “You could have killed him!”
“You were supposed to land on your face, not stab him with the dagger!” she screamed back. “Where are those superior amazonian reflexes you’re always boasting about?”
“I’ve been feeling a murderous presence all night. Now I know where it was coming from. You tripped me!”
“Did I? Or maybe your plump little belly full of meat put you off balance.”
“Your words are cheap, you ruttish milk-livered flax-wench!”
“THAT’S IT!”
Philiastra pounced on Erolina. The two women came crashing down atop a banquet table, flipping it over and sending desserts flying in all directions.
“You mammering plume-plucked devil!”
Guests screamed and fled as the two women roared in rage, pulling hair, punching and clawing one another. They rolled over and over, knocking over rows of vases and smashing apart a wooden staircase.
“You frothy idle-headed horn-beast!”
They kicked, punched and bit. Erolina tried to roll to her feet, but Philiastra clung to her back like an enraged monkey, yanking her backwards, both of them falling atop the punch bowl table and shattering it.
“Filthy bung!”
Erolina managed to get a hold of her and flung her free. The enraged forest nymph crashed into a dessert cart, creating a spray of pastries and cream that flew up into the air like dancing flower petals.
“This is very familiar,” Shield observed.
Philiastra tried to stand up, but Erolina was already on top of her. She kicked Philiastra’s feet out from under her, then reverse-kicked, hitting the forest nymph in the stomach, launching Philiastra into the minstrel booth, smashing instruments to pieces. Without waiting, Erolina kick-flipped a table into the air, then spun around in a powerful roundhouse kick, sending the table flying across the room and slamming into Philiastra before she could right herself.
Ambrosia Page 51
