The Fire and The Storm - The Nexus of Kellaran #2

Chapter 149

Part 22

“Here, let me get that for you My Princess.” one of her bridesmaids insisted with a smile, and

Translocated into the open interior of the ring-shaped table to take over the serving.

As soon as the first dish was served onto a plate Talia began feeding it to Mark, and she and Alilia were

to feed him and each other from all three of their plates indiscriminately.

This left their two places beside Mark unoccupied, and over the course of the reception many of the

guests used them to join the head table for a few moments of congratulation and conversation.

One of the first to do so was Amirgath, who appeared perched in Talia’s chair to Mark’s left in a small

enough form to curl his tail around himself on the seat.

“Congratulations, and thank you for the invitation.” he stated as he poured himself a glass of whisky

and swirled it with a very human-seeming manner.

“You’re the leader of the nation that bears your name, and it’s a state wedding.” Mark shrugged. “My

point was made the last time we spoke, and I’m just as glad to have you.”

“You’ll want to try the honey-northberry elixir, it’s exceptionally good.” Talia suggested with a giggle.

“Thank you, but that’s a bit sweet for my tastes.” Amirgath replied, and tipped his glass back. “Good

whisky though.” he noted as he set the glass down, then vanished.

“Hmm.” Alilia smiled as she finished a bite of roast buffalo. “That was very humble of him to appear in

such a small size. I’d say it was a gesture of reconciliation. You improve everyone you interact with, my

handsome love, and the first of the dragon gods is not immune.”

Mark could only laugh, as Talia was about to place the next bite in his mouth.

About once a minute during the meal one or two or a few of their friends from Hiliani or Heartwood

came by to offer a quick congratulation and a handshake or a hug or a kiss, and sometimes all three.

Kragorram, Povon, Karzog, and Somonik snacked on honey-roasted boars from Felion as they lounged

on the moss outside the circle of chairs around the head table. The spaces in the circle where their

chairs would have been placed were wide enough for them to politely reach between for the thirty-six

kilo tidbits that were automatically replaced on their platters whenever they took one.

“Is this platter Reproducing these things, or are they being Translocated in?” Karzog wondered as he

helped himself to his eighth, and prepared to wash it down with another cask of Stone Islands rum.

“Translocated.” Somonik told him around a bite of pork. “Notice that they are quite uniform, but not

identical. This is the third prepared dish that I have ever eaten in my long life that I truly enjoyed more

than fresh raw prey. All three were first served to me within the past week, and all were from Felion.

And they are nefarious! They tell you that they are merely snacks, but the damn things keep appearing

and they are delicious, and before you know it you’re so full that you’re canceling your next hunt!”

“The entrepreneurs of the giants and gnomes have been working determinedly to try to find something

they can sell to dragons, and they have found it!” Caria laughed. “When I considered catering for

dragons at this event, I initially thought I’d have to contract some hunters to provide fresh prey. But

while reading the latest market listings, there was an entry selling those ‘Draconian Fine Dining’

platters, so I spoke to a woman in Felion who told me all about it.

“The entrepreneurs there have noted that most of the dragons of Xervia and the older ones on

Serminak have accumulated vast wealth over their long lives, but they seldom buy anything. Almost all

dragons still build their own dens, hunt their own food, supply their own long-distance travel, don’t use

furniture, prefer very durable and long-lasting goods, and tend to keep almost everything they’ve ever

owned.

“These Felioni spend great effort developing recipes that make common Felion domestic animals

especially palatable to dragons, and they’re succeeding. They have eleven fast-selling recipes so far,

but found that most dragons still frown on the idea of prepared meals in general, and refused to try it.

They would, however, consider a prepared snack, especially at mixed-race events. This is affecting the

social lives of dragons to their benefit, since they can eat with other races without having to eat fresh

prey, which most other races find disgusting. Those dragon snacks seem like they would be appetizing

to any race that eats meat, even though they’re not.”

“And here we are!” Povon chuckled. “These are absolutely divine! You must tell me where to get

these!”

“Here.” Caria said as she passed the contact information in a quick Speaking. “They sell the platters for

a very reasonable cost, they probably take a loss on them because each is equipped with a small

Translocation Plane and spells that sense when the item on it has been taken and triggers the

Translocation of the next item from the great automated kitchens in Felion. When you’re finished you

simply turn the platter over. It self-cleans as soon as it’s lifted, and cancels further incoming items until

you turn it upright again. Then they bill you for the items it’s received, and you can get more items

anytime; their kitchens are always running. That’s where they make their real money, and why they can

sell the platters so cheaply, though even the meat is very reasonable because it’s sold in such large

lots.

“They’re keeping the recipes secret, and I’ve heard they’re only palatable to dragons.

“To be honest, I used the size and prestige of this wonderful event to negotiate a sizable discount on

the regular price of the pork. From your reactions, I’m sure it will turn out to be wise for them to have

given it to me.”

“Hmm.” Somonik mused as he helped himself to another roast boar. “So often I’m so busy that it’s hard

to find time to hunt. I don’t eat as often or as well as I should, or so Grakonexikaldoron keeps tellingAll content © N/.ôvel/Dr/ama.Org.

me. These things could save me a lot of time. And they’ve found a way to make the bones crunch up

when you chew them with such a delightfully crispy texture.”

“Why don’t you keep that platter, Somonik?” Talia suggested. “I’m sure you can arrange with the

vendors to have any of their recipes delivered to it.”

“Thank you, I most happily accept!” Somonik laughed. “But if Grakonexikaldoron starts to complain that

I’m getting fat, I’m sending her to you for the blame!”

“We’ll be fat together, old mate.” Grakonexikaldoron chuckled to him from across the clearing where

she was dining with the others of The Ninety-Nine. “These things are addictively good! I’m keeping my

platter too! I’m stealing it if I must!”

“That won’t be necessary, Gran.” Mark chuckled. “It’s yours. Pass the word that any other Draconians

here tonight that want to keep theirs can do so, our gift to you.”

“Thanks, I will!”

“Damn.” Somonik cursed with a contented grin as he leaned back and rubbed his bulging belly. “Now

we’re going to have to find something to sell to Felion, or this will adversely affect our balance of trade.”

“No doubt of it!” Kragorram laughed as he reached for another. “We don’t want to have young dragons

asking us in a millennium where all the Draconian wealth went, and have to tell them; ‘Well see, there

were these tasty little pig snacks…’”

That brought a hearty laugh from everyone within earshot.

When Karz was finished eating he stretched luxuriously, then touched Fire on her shoulder. “Watch

this.” he quietly murmured to her, then assumed a Simulacrum. He appeared as an equatorial elf of

about nine years of age, his skin, hair, and eyes were completely black, even the ‘whites’ of his eyes.

The spiky straight black hair of tropical elves was brushed smoothly back and down, and he was

wearing the same Battle Wizard’s outfit that she and her family wore.

He Retrieved a chair and placed it beside her before his overturned platter, sat, lifted her hand and

kissed it gently. She just stared at him and grinned, then rubbed his hand against her cheek. They

leaned toward each other until their foreheads were almost touching and had a long, quiet, and private

conversation that was punctuated with the occasional laugh or giggle.

Six and Val had been exhibiting this same behavior since the meal started, appearing intimate but not

romantic.

As they were lingering over desserts and tea, the rulers and ruling councilors began making their way

over to offer their congratulations, sometimes singly but more often in groups of two to four, sometimes

accompanied by their spouses or escorts.