Chapter Thirty Three
Everything resumed as expected – the bakers and butchers continued cooking, service bots filled the rows of tables with completed cooked foods and deserts, and the citizens decorated the square.
The rest of the setup barely even took an hour. Almost immediately everything had been set up, the feast began. The dancers did intricate moves up on the stage; the lanterns lit up the tables below, people already rushing to their seats to begin eating. A group of children giggled as they played a game of soccer with a worn-out ball, and the sounds of joy and laughter made my heart warm, especially after the depressing funeral that had just taken place.
Once the Empress decided it was safe, we exited the main square through the hidden doorway. The Teleporter room was quiet and dim, and I swore I could still hear the sounds of people feasting through the wall. After the clicking sound signaled that the door had been solidified, we walked up to the Teleporter.
“What about the other Anti’s and their acquaintances? I haven’t seen them,” I asked the Empress.
“Oh, one of my service bots already escorted them up to my palace,” she clarified. “Don’t worry about them. In fact, I bet they’re already eating without us.”
We somehow managed to huddle up together in the small Teleporter, and after the continuous humming and the bright flash of light, we instantly appeared in the familiar room with odd brass machines perched high up in the ceiling. A soft light from the moon flooded in from the high windows, and one of the four sets of double doors remained open. We walked out into the courtyard overlooking the valley of snowcapped mountains.
The air was warm, and I felt beads of sweat beginning to form beneath my hair. Instead of heading over to the Empress’s headquarters, the place I had been the day before, we made a sharp left turn and into the tall chapel. Up close, I could see moss growing in between the cracks of the tan stones that made up the building, and when the Empress dialed some pad-lock combination, the single wooden door opened with a beeping sound and a click.
The inside of the chapel was lightened by high candle-chandeliers made of the usual – brass. A wide table set with elegant chairs sat at the center of the room. Furniture and fireplaces dotted the room, and off in the far corner, I noticed an unusual wooden instrument that resembled a harpsichord merged with an oversized trumpet.
The center of the room was carpeted with red, an elegant picture of the outside of Efaque City at the middle.
Curtains hung from the tall mosaic windows, shimmering with hundreds of tiny crystals.
Everything was absolutely stunning . . . but where were all the Anti’s and their acquaintances?
“They must be roaming the palace grounds,” the Empress guessed.
The smell of seasoned meat floated in the air, and I noticed a large open kitchen at the far end of the chapel. Five cooks, each plump and hearty, bustled about the area, setting the table with turkey, cakes, vegetables, and other delicious looking foods.
When they saw the Empress enter the chapel, the lined up side by side, their head held towards the ceiling.
“How wonderful!” The Empress clapped her hands and jumped up and down. “Thanks guys.”
She gestured toward the table. “Go ahead, Darrel and Ellie. Take a seat.”
The chefs eyed Ellie and I closely as we pulled out our seats and sat down next to one another. The Empress looked at me and said, “Oh, that’s Darrel. He’s the Lucid,” as if it weren’t a big deal.
The man that appeared to be the head chef looked at me with wide eyes. He instantly ran up to me and shook my hand vigorously. “I can’t believe it!” He exclaimed.
The Empress rolled her eyes. “Isn’t someone going to pull out my chair for me?”
One of the female chefs pulled out the chair at the end of the table, twice as tall and elegant than any of the others.
The head chef didn’t stop shaking my hand, and I was almost convinced that he was going to yank my arm out of its socket. “I just . . . wow!” He grinned and let go of my hand, now red and greasy.
Casually wiping my hand against the table cloth, I said, “Likewise.”
He didn’t stop smiling and filed back in line with the other chefs. “May your highnesses enjoy.”
I looked at the Empress to watch her reaction; the head chef said your highnesses. However, she didn’t address him like I expected her to. She just sat there, calm and reserved as she stared at the table in front of her. “Well, done chef,” she grinned. She looked at me and said, “We aren’t proper here, so just dig in!”
Of course, I thought. She’s a ten-year-old. Not much room for manners.
The Empress immediately went for the turkey, which was the closest platter. She ripped off its leg and scooped up a spoonful of the stuffing that surrounded the turkey.
Ellie and I, on the other hand, sat back and looked around suspiciously. I caught Ellie’s eyes and whispered, “Something’s off.”
She nodded in agreement.
The Empress looked up at us, swallowing a mouthful of stuffing. “What’s wrong?”
I shook my head and smiled. “Nothing . . . it’s just that this is an amazing feast your chefs have prepared.”
The Empress didn’t look convinced. “You’re wondering where the other Anti’s are and their acquaintances,” she guessed. She sighed and wiped the corners of her mouth with a blood-red napkin. “Well, if you must know,” she scooped up another spoonful of stuffing, “they’ve been imprisoned.”
