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“See that you do.”
“C’mon, you lot,” the man said, his obsequious manner instantly dropping as he turned to face us. “Adam’s been waiting.” He gestured we were to follow him with a quick jerk of his head, so we helped Sylvan to his feet and hurried after him.
We wormed our way through the crowd, and people turned to check us out as we squeezed past. My eyes scanned the massive carved archway as we walked underneath it, black wolves running along its length, causing mayhem and destruction. Sylvan shot me a sharp look. Rubbernecking wasn’t a good way to pretend we’d been serving here for some time, so I jerked my gaze down. Instead, I focussed on trying to remember the path we were taking to get to the kitchens.
The architecture here reflected a hierarchy within the Volken. The buildings nearest the gate were well made, carved, and featured decorative finials, but were considerably smaller than those we saw as we walked further in. I watched servants fan off, going down the narrow streets to knock on various doors they’d obviously been assigned to. As we got deeper, the buildings got bigger, and there were even gardens around the houses. There were more Volken here too. We stopped each time one crossed our path, dropping our heads in respect, though they paid us little mind. I admit, invisibility settled something within me. This might be a monolithic culture intent on mowing down everything in its path, but it also had some blind spots.
The building we were to work in was massive, obviously something more than a mere residence. It soared above as we approached, a multi-storey sprawling place, complete with a broad set of steps at the front with several carved obsidian Tirian crouching on thick stone posts, watching all that entered.
But not us.
“Down here,” the man said, directing us to the alleyway down the side of the building.
“Thanks, Donal,” Sylvan said when we came to a rustic looking door.
“It’s alright, lad,” the man said, placing a hand on Sylvan’s shoulder, but he removed it quickly when he flinched. “Just get it done, yeah?”
Get what done? I watched Donal nod to us as he passed, walking off to god knew where, and found most of my pack had done the same. We stared at the seer, wanting answers, but Sylvan didn’t bother with that. He just put his hand on the door and pulled it open.
We walked into a hot swirling mass of chaos. It was the biggest kitchen I’d ever seen. I’d worked in restaurants and diners, but they
were nothing compared to this. Massive wooden workbenches spanned the room, covered in piles of ingredients, explosions of flour, red hunks of meat, and sprays of herbs, but that was only a small part of the whole set up. People rushed around, cooking, chopping, adding ingredients to bubbling pots and mixing while others frantically washed great pans in big stone sinks of water. And the smell, that was the thing that hit me hardest. I regretted now not eating because the smells of freshly baked bread, rich stews, and roasting meat hit me like a truck.
“You’ve arrived,” said a big man wearing a stained apron as he marched up to us. “C’mon, we should have started turning the meat an hour ago.”
Adam? Finn mouthed at Sylvan, who just replied with a quick nod. We wove our way through the busy kitchen to a room out the back, following the broad back of our contact, but Sylvan’s gaze darted about, and he tugged his hat down further in response. It wasn’t until the door was closed behind us, a wall of heat hitting as we stepped inside, that Adam appeared to relax.
“You’re back, son,” he said, putting a meaty hand on Sylvan’s shoulder, and this time, the seer didn’t flinch. “To do as you said?” Adam’s eyes flicked over to us, giving us a quick once over as he waited for Sylvan’s reply.
“I hope so. Things…they’re clouded.” Sylvan looked at me for a second. “These are the White Wolf’s pack.”
“But no Branwen?”
Adam’s voice rose a little.
“No, I… These are the one we need, I’m as sure as I can be.”
“Well, you’ve come at a good time. The muck-a-mucks have a celebration going. They’re going to perform that Great Rite, so they’ll be distracted but…”
If I thought Sylvan was pale before, I’d seen nothing yet. His eyes went wide at that, some kind of primal, visceral fear showing in his expression. That did little to allay our fears. I noted the shuffle of my pack’s feet as they kept themselves from moving, questioning, or shoving Sylvan up against the wall and pounding some answers out of him.
“But less predictable,” Sylvan finished the sentence finally. “I know. I would’ve avoided this if possible, but… We’ll have to do our best, hope the gods are on our side.”
“Except this one,” Adam said, pointing to the floor. “He’s been restive.”
“Yeah, we know. That was us yesterday.”
“Was it indeed?” The man’s bushy eyebrows shot up. “Well, time for introductions then. The White Wolf’s pack. Never thought I’d see the day.”
Sylvan introduced us in turn, the man’s brown eyes warm as he took each one of our hands, his grasp firm, the floury surface somehow reassuring.
“So, you’re the ones to take these fuckers down?” Adam said with a broad grin. “We’ve been waiting for you for so long.”
We turned as one to stare at Sylvan, that broad brimmed cap tugged so low we couldn’t see his eyes, but the set of his shoulders spoke eloquently enough.
“Of course,” Finn said, saying the right thing at the right time, like always. My hand whipped out to take Slade’s hand when he started to move, his brows drawn down hard.
“Good, good, couldn’t come at a better time with all the… Well, you’ll see to that soon enough. Now, I’m going to need you to work the spits until then. Big banquet today. Start of the Longest Night festival and all, and it's the only job I could come up with that’d keep you away from the rest of the staff. Hot, but easy to manage. Just keep the meat turning.” He demonstrated working the handle of the spit where another one of those lavender pelted beasts seemed to have been skinned and set on the bar over the fire. “Keep the coals burning, don’t let them flare up, nor get too low. Use this sauce.” He picked up a bucket of something that smelled a helluva lot like barbeque sauce and swished a broad brush around in it. “Perhaps your lady could take care of that?”
