H - 74: All the Best Ones Are (Patreon)

Apparently their triumphant return was much anticipated. The two dragons alighted on the landing outside the great doors, Kaln greeted the two Phantom Legionaries standing guard flanking them—and then explained them to a fascinated Zhiiji—and by the time the whole group had traversed the long entry hall and entered the vast central vault, the rest of the family had already gathered.

Well, nearly—the last emerged from the library door just as it came into view. All three of Kaln’s consorts stood in their greater forms, watching their arrival superciliously, while Pheneraxa came trotting in last, also in her greater form and with Percy seated sidesaddle upon her neck. Kaln couldn’t imagine what they’d been doing riding around the library like that, but Pheneraxa of all people would know how to avoid irritating Emeralaphine, and aside from that, so long as they kept each other entertained he didn’t feel any urge to interfere.

“Husband, welcome home,” Tiavathyris greeted him first, deeply inclining her head. “I gather your journey was successful.”

“More so than I even hoped,” Kaln agreed, teleporting to the floor from Vadaralshi’s back.

“So I see,” Emeralaphine snipped, pointing her nose at Zhiiji, who had just slid down from between Vanimax’s wings. “Husband, I believe I warned you specifically about filling our home with all your mortal friends.”

“Wife, if I brought home every person I found interesting or likable, there would already be no place for you to plant your feet,” Kaln retorted, gracing her with his most flirtatious smile, the one that had melted even Haktria in one of her moods. “This is a special case. Zhiiji, here, is a chef who has served, as I understand it, more of the royalty of the Nourdells than not, and a much sought-after point of competition between them.”

“The ‘royalty’ of the Nourdells are more analogous to minor nobles or guildmasters in most other contexts,” Izayaroa commented, “but that is still not unimpressive.”

“I have also vetted her skills personally,” Kaln continued, still with his winning smile. “I cannot wait for everyone to try her steaks.”

“Do we need a cook, though?” Tiavathyris asked, peering critically down at Zhiiji.

“Yes, we do!” Pheneraxa answered, thumping her tail for emphasis, which drew her sharp looks from both Tiavathyris and her mother.

“She was a lucky find,” Kaln said smoothly. “You know well that this isn’t what I went to the desert for, but one gets nowhere in life by passing up golden opportunities when they unexpectedly arise. Til now, poor Percy has been subsisting on my cooking, which I wouldn’t wish on anyone. I prefer not to eat my cooking if avoidable, but I consider hospitality to be the greater concern, here. The honor of our household is at stake, ladies.”

Emeralaphine looked disdainful at that, the other two amused.

“I wouldn’t want to complain,” Percy said gingerly, having just slid down to the floor.

“Which is not the comment of someone who has no complaints to make,” Izayaroa said gently, causing the princess to blush.

“It’s...the scale. The scope.”

All of them turned to look at Zhiiji as she stepped forward, her awed semi-whisper echoing thanks to the splendid acoustics. She was gazing up at the three elder dragons with an expression of intent fascination unlike anything Kaln had yet seen on her.

He began to be…nervous. Zhiiji had talked a big game about social instincts and knowing how to appease powerful people with delicate egos. That sure didn’t look like what was happening now.

“The kids are…fine. Very impressive,” Zhiiji said vaguely, staring fixedly at the consorts. “Power and danger, yadda yadda. It’s not the same. They lack the vast scope of context, the gravitas.”

“Yeah, Max!” Vadaralshi scolded. “Where’s your damn gravitas? You’re embarrassing us in front of the little hairball!”

Vanimax turned an exasperated glare on her, swelled his chest, and then let out a heavy sigh as if the effort of hissing just didn’t seem worth it.

“But this,” Zhiiji intoned rapturously, “you! So much eternity gathered in one place—the unthinkable breadth of experience. The things you must have seen, and tasted! Living memories of entire cultures, languages, art forms and cuisines now gone. Some of the mundane and common, but I have to think…mostly the very finest. The best of the best. Oh, the things you must remember. The histories you could tell us, the dishes you’ve experienced…”

Izayaroa, Tiavathyris, and Emeralaphine were glancing fleetingly at one another, for once alike in expression: torn between reluctant flattery and bemusement.

“And that,” Zhiiji cooed, her eyes going wide and a grin stretching across her muzzle to bare sharp fangs, “that is what will make you my defining achievement. Here I shall refine my craft until I have created the ultimate culinary experiences for the most discerning of eternal palates. Our journey together will bring you to heights of flavor which will linger in your experience across an infinity of my inept successors. A day will come when all this is dust, all of us forgotten, the world changed beyond recognition and the very concept of food so evolved as to be outside our recognition, and on that day, I swear by my soul, my tail, and all my favorite knives that I shall have left behind a legacy of ancient dragons who shall sigh with unappeasable melancholy and lament it was Zhiiji who cooked the best they ever tasted, or ever shall again!”

She whipped out the khopesh and brandished it aloft as if in defiance of the very heavens.

Bemusement had won out on the elder dragons’ faces; Pheneraxa looked confused (as did Percy), Vanimax embarrassed, and Vadaralshi maliciously delighted in the flummoxed silence which followed.

Kaln struggled to find the right thing to say to break the tension. That was usually one of his strong suits, but his efforts were slowed at the moment by how much of his brainpower was required to forcibly keep the expression off his face, lest it betray to his consorts his sudden certainty that he’d just made a big mistake here.

His rescue came from the last place he would have expected.

“Ah! Now this I recognize!” Emeralaphine declared, thumping her tail against the ground for emphasis and nodding. “Husband, I withdraw my complaint. You have brought us a master artisan who is clearly insane in exactly the way all the best ones are. Yes, I do believe this shall be interesting enough to warrant a little inconvenience. I’ll look forward to sampling whatever this one cooks up. Just make sure she knows the household rules and doesn’t get in my way.”

“You gave her your sword,” Tiavathyris observed in a carefully neutral tone.

“She drives a hard bargain,” Kaln said, recovering his customary smoothness. “And is worth it, of that I’m confident. Now then! I’d like to talk with the three of you about what I learned in the desert—I particularly want to hear your thoughts about my encounter with Hii-Amat. Also… It’s good to be home.”

He put on another of his best smiles.

“I missed you.”

All three of them smiled—Izayaroa with appreciation, Tiavathyris in amusement, and Emeralaphine clearly trying not to look flustered. These were all extremely interesting expressions to behold on huge draconic faces, but Kaln didn’t linger on the moment.

“Pheneraxa, would you be so kind as to show Zhiiji the kitchen? You helped me put it together, so you can explain how everything works.”

“Yes, I was warned it’s made entirely of magical gewgaws,” Zhiiji said, frowning. “I’m skeptical, but hells, I love a challenge. Show me my kitchen! And while I’m in there I’ll whip up a snack for you.”

Pheneraxa had started to look mulish, but at that last, abruptly changed her whole demeanor. “Ah! Well, Percy and I were reading, but I suppose we can do that anytime.”

“I don’t mind,” Percy said brightly. “Maybe you can help explain to me how everything works, too!”

“This way, then,” Pheneraxa said, turning and setting out toward the stairs. “I expect this is probably where you’ll be living, too, but Kaln will have to set up a place for you. I hope you like gold and jewels where they clearly don’t belong.”

“I mean, not particularly,” Zhiiji said, hopping off after her. The diminutive Hiiri moved in a series of long bounds and seemed able to keep up with the pacing dragon while still having enough breath to talk. “That kind of stuff is usually just strutting by nouveau riche who don’t understand how style works. Who actually likes it?”

“My father did, hence why all of Kaln’s stuff is like that,” Pheneraxa said idly as they crested the top of the stairs. “Really, everything about Atraximos is explained by conceptualizing him as a giant, evil magpie. Good riddance.”

“You can say that again!”

Kaln turned back to his consorts, who now looked uniformly entertained by this byplay. He noticed Vadaralshi and Vanimax still lingering behind him; surprisingly, they hadn’t taken off on their own business at the first opportunity.

“I will go into more detail later,” Kaln said. “In particular I’d like to pick your brain about some of the details, Emeralaphine.”

“Husband,” she said stiffly, “I laud the assumed sentiment, but I would prefer that you never use that euphemism again.”

“So noted,” he said, smiling. “The news, on balance, is good. Hii-Amat is an ally—wait, actually, no. She’s a friend.”

Vanimax snorted. “What kind of pointless hair-splitting is that?”

“In casual speech it might just be semantics, but we’re talking strategy,” Kaln said patiently. “In that realm, the distinction is crucially important.”

“Never march into battle with your friends, nor bring your allies home for dinner,” said Tiavathyris, nodding. “Or so the aphorism goes. In the real world it’s not usually that black and white, but the difference is that friends share a bond of camaraderie, while allies share strategic interests. There is often overlap, but it remains important to recognize them as two distinct categories. I infer then, husband, that Hii-Amat is very positively disposed toward you, but will not be a source of direct help going forward?”

“Precisely. In fact, I promised to visit her again. She seems to relish having a sort of…elder sister role.”

“That’s well and good,” Emeralaphine said impatiently, “but we were not concerned about acquiring a new ally. You went into her domain to establish that she would have no hold over you going forward. It begins to sound, husband, as if you voluntarily agreed to one.”

“Don’t worry, that point is settled satisfactorily,” Kaln soothed. “Hii-Amat specifically forbore any debt between us because of her actions, in so many words. She considered it no less than her sacred duty to aid a soul in distress, and would accept no obligation in return. No, my lady wife, she has no hold over me. I’ve just established a friendly relationship with the goddess and therefore people whose territory borders ours, which seems rather preferable to the alternative.”

Izayaroa and Tiavathyris both nodded emphatically.

“The downside,” he continued, “is that no, she won’t intervene on our behalf further. In particular she does not want to get tangled up with the Entity, nor invite its attention to her domain.”

“One can hardly condemn her for that,” Izayaroa murmured.

“I don’t suppose you asked her perspective on the shadow?” Tiavathyris asked.

“I did. It turns out that in affairs between gods, even paying attention too closely, or revealing their secrets to a third party, can be a direct enough action to create an…entanglement.”

“Fascinating,” Emeralaphine said, rearing up and lifting her chin thoughtfully. “That fits plausibly with what I do know of gods, but it’s damnably hard to get direct confirmation of anything from them. Cagey creatures. It seems this one regards you as at least a sort of peer, husband. Yes, I deem it wise to cultivate that relationship, after all.”

“I’m sure we are all glad of your approval,” Izayaroa stated evenly.

Emeralaphine turned a narrow-eyed stare on her, and Tiavathyris subtly shifted backward so she was not directly between them.

“And toward that end,” Kaln interjected firmly enough to command their attention, “Emeralaphine, if you will allow me to monopolize your time today, I’d like to go over all this in much more detail. I will be relying heavily on your expertise for the entire course of my evolution, and this seems like a perfect place to start.”

“Indeed, husband,” she said graciously, inclining her head. “Very well, I shall pull some relevant texts from my stacks and prepare an experimental space.”

“My thanks,” Kaln said, bowing to her. “I will join you in a few minutes, after I have settled Zhiiji in. I don’t want to neglect that duty but I shall do my best not to dally over it. Tiavathyris, would you grant me the same favor tomorrow? In the course of our trip, I made a couple of incidental discoveries about how my own divinity operates. Some of them might be relevant to the training regimen you are developing; after I’ve had the benefit of Emeralaphine’s magical expertise on the subject I would like to go over that with you in detail.”

“Is that so?” Tiavathyris replied, tilting her head. “How intriguing. Of course, husband, my time is yours. Within reason.”

“I always try to operate within reason,” he said, grinning. Kaln paused, looking up at each of them in turn once more, and let his smile widen of its own accord just as it naturally wanted to do. Presentation was important in putting on a seductive demeanor, but authenticity mattered more—to Tiavathyris especially, but also in general, as he found himself learning. “Countless heavens, I really am glad to be back. I feel like I’ve hardly spent any time with you. It’s been one damned thing after another.”

“It has,” Emeralaphine agreed with a pleased smile, “and it was correct for you to prioritize looming tasks. Unless you have another surprise for us, that should be the last outstanding business. Now we have time.”

“We do,” he said, bowing. “And we’ll begin sharing it very soon. For now, give me just a moment longer, if you please.”

All three dipped their heads in acknowledging bows, and turned to head back to their own chambers.

“Kaln,” Izayaroa said suddenly just as he started after Pheneraxa and the others. He paused, turning to her; Tiavathyris and Emeralaphine both likewise hesitated in their respective doorways, brazenly listening in. “I was…surprised that you took Vanimax along on your journey.”

Kaln glanced back; Vadaralshi had started toward her mother’s chamber but now paused to eavesdrop with a broad grin. Vanimax’s tail was just vanishing back up the entry hall; at hearing his name, he hesitated, then redoubled his pace as if afraid he was about to be called down.

“It was a last-minute idea,” Kaln admitted. “To be honest, I was following a hunch. It turned out well, though. I apologize, Izayaroa, if I was stepping on your prerogatives…”

She shook her head. “Vanimax is old enough to have left the nest entirely by now if he wanted to; I certainly don’t mind if he cultivates a few outside interests of his own. It is probably for the best if he does, in fact…depending on the interests in question. How did that go?”

“Better than I could have imagined,” Kaln said frankly. “To my surprise, Vanimax got along extremely well with the Hiiri. I wouldn’t be surprised if he took it upon himself to visit them again, alone.”

Izayaroa blinked. “He…did?”

“Well, they fawned all over him and he loved that. They’re clever folk, the Hiiri, and particularly adept at handling powerful neighbors. Something worth keeping in mind, I think.”

“Hm,” she murmured, narrowing her eyes in through, and then nodded once. “I see. Thank you, husband, for indulging me. I’ll delay you no longer.”

Kaln bowed to her again. “Your attention is never an imposition, my lady wife. I’ll see you soon.”

She finally turned and properly returned to her own lair, as did the others, and Kaln bounded up the stairs toward his own. He found he genuinely was looking forward to returning to his house, in his cavernous lair which he still needed to properly furnish…

As soon as he was inside the hoard chamber, though, he could already hear the raised voices echoing from the kitchen at its opposite end. With a sigh, Kaln picked up his pace.