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Chapter 38 - The Second Semester
🕑 Added 2024-12-30 17:52:01 +0000 UTC[Quick author's note: Thank you so much for your support. I got so giddy when I got the notification that someone is subscribed. On RR, I'm doing an extra-chapter-per-review deal for up to 9 extra chapters—any extra chapters there are extra chapters here. So if you want to leave a review, you'll get more chapters!]
Book 1, Part III - The Forbidden Meal
“What are we waiting on?”
“It’s locked.”
The first-years had gathered in the great hall, waiting outside the door to a place that no one dared to wander into. Some called it Anise’s kitchen. Others called it her lair. Over the course of his leg’s recovery, Archie had grown somewhat used to the Head Chef’s quirky behavior. Others did not share his familiarity nor his comfort.
“I thought we were doing Tarragon’s class,” Nori complained.
Benedict shook his head. “Gotta get through two weeks with the crazy lady, first.”
“She gives me the heebie-jeebies,” Oliver added with a shudder.
“The heebie-jeebies?” Cress asked. “What are you, six?”
“No. And good thing I’m not. If there were any six-year-olds around, she’d probably cook them or something. She’s a witch.”
The door cracked open, the wood screeching against the stone.
“Don’t let the light in,” an eerie voice singsonged from the darkness.
Not a single student took a step forward. Most took a step back.
“Come, come,” the voice crooned. “Don’t let the light in.”
The students exchanged weary looks. Finally, Akando stepped forward, careful not to open the door any further as he squeezed his way through the gap. Archie had lacked the bravery to go first, but he wouldn’t be taken for a coward. He followed closely behind. As he stepped through the doorway, he lightly pushed the door, but it didn’t budge. Someone held it from the other side.
Archie pushed through the darkness, guided by the slim light from the doorway and the faint glow of sunlight that splashed around the blackout curtains that hung from the windows. His hands found Akando in the dark, using him as a guide. One by one the students piled into the room, pushing each other deeper into the darkness.
The door screeched again before thudding to a close. The students froze in place, but another set of footsteps scurried around the room.
“There are many things to be seen…in the darkness.”
And then there was light. Subtle, green and blue, percolating in through the darkness. Little bulbs and flowers and clovers took shape, barely illuminating anything more than themselves.
Bioluminescent.
A face appeared just above a cluster of tall, glowing green stalks with tiny mushroom heads. In the faint light, the face was all shadows save for the long, crooked nose and a hint of wild gray hair.
“I can’t grow these in the cellars anymore,” Anise said, her eyes crossed as they observed the mushrooms in front of her face. “I lost control of my cellars. Taken over…by plants that hunger for more than darkness…”
As she ran her finger down one stalk, the entire cluster faded to blackness, taking her face with it. Her footsteps shuffled around the room.
“The exams are coming soon. Who can tell me how many sections there are?”
There was a brief silence. Perhaps they were too afraid. Perhaps they all expected Sutton to answer. But somewhere in that darkness, the teacher’s pet was too frozen in fear to say anything.
“Five,” Archie answered at last.
“Very good.”
Anise’s silhouette briefly appeared behind a blue, flowery mushroom. But with another touch of the finger, Anise robbed the mushroom of its light, casting them into further darkness.
“Five sections worth twenty five points each, of which your four best scores will be counted.”
Archie turned his head to follow the shuffling feet, catching a glimpse of Anise’s hand just before it put out the light from a clover-like, green-glowing cluster.
“Different schools have different exams. Ours prioritizes cooking. We’ll have one test based on a recipe that will be assigned on the day…”
Another cluster of mushrooms lost their light. The students moved away from the shuffling feet like a group of scared chickens, grouping up near the wall.
“...and for another section, you will be able to submit whatever dish you’d like.”
Another cluster disappeared. The light was leaving the room faster than Archie’s eyes could adjust to the darkness.
“You will be tested on your cultivation. And your conjuration.”
Another cluster went out. Only one remained.
“And then the last section…and the subject of today…”
The voice trailed off, waiting for someone else to finish the sentence. Sutton found his voice.
“Innovation,” he said.
“Very good. Innovation.” Anise’s face appeared behind the last cluster of lit mushrooms, extreme shadows dancing on her face as she spoke. “It’s not enough to be able to cook or conjure or grow. You must set your ambition higher. You have a gift. Ambrosia’s gift in its most true form. You should use it to do that which might otherwise be considered impossible. That…is innovation.”
Anise’s finger tapped the mushrooms, but instead of driving them into darkness, the mushroom lit up brighter than any torch, casting the entire room in a green glow. Archie could see everything—all of Anise’s horrors. Forked carrots that were larger than any person, unrecognizable produce bobbing around in jars of milky liquids, a blob of sourdough starter that wormed its way across the table, squelching as it sought to hide from the light. And at the center of it all, cast in a wicked shade of green, Anise grinned in a way that no truly sane person could.
Archie wondered if the Head Chef had forced herself to act normal when treating Archie’s potentially mortal wound. He had been halfway to death—maybe she knew that she could have ended up scaring him the other halfway there.
“It’s time for you all to start thinking of how to put your gift to proper use,” she said. “In just a few months, we’ll see what you’re made of.”
“I told you,” Oliver whispered. “She’s gonna cook us.”
For the rest of the week, Anise took the students all over Ambrosia City to show them examples of great innovation. They started with the elevator, allowing Archie to show off his mastery by taking the whole class for a ride.
Then they went out to the trams. Archie had always known they were a great magic, but his little bit of expertise in the art of pastamancy allowed him to truly appreciate their scale. He was the only one in his class that could operate the elevator noodle, and that wasn’t even a hundred feet. The noodles that powered the trams were well over a mile long and carried several times more weight at several times faster speeds.
They discussed refrigerators—which Anise called the most important culinary invention in history—and all of the alternative ways to preserve things. There were mosses and jellies and banana leaves that had all been modified to keep food from spoiling.
They looked at red bearberries that when eaten by birds, produced and shed extra feathers. They pulled sweet alyssum flowers up to see absurdly long and tough roots that had been modified to seek and break up rocks in the soil.
They discussed how innovations led to quality of life improvements like the poultices and healing noodles of the Veratores and the sinus-clearing peppers from Kuutsu Nuna and the healing effects that could be unlocked in truffles.
They discussed how innovations bred commercial success like the blue produce of Blue Orchards, the variety of drinks—that Archie still didn’t care to remember—of Lifted Spirits, and of course, the lifeblood of United Ambrosia, the movemash upon which all trade was built.
Inspired by so many great innovations, Archie thought of…nothing. How could he come up with anything when faced with the strokes of genius that had built the world around him?
“Maybe we should go to the Ambrosial Archive this weekend,” he suggested to Nori.
“Maybe.” She had allowed herself to start talking to Archie, and even managed to not make him feel guilty from time to time, but she still kept a certain distance. They were no longer inseparable. They didn’t eat every meal together. They didn’t end their nights together in the lounge recapping everything in their day as if they hadn’t spent it all together. But they talked, and Archie could live with that.
“We have a job to do first,” she continued.
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. We’re gonna cater a family gathering down in the Roots. We’ll do most of the cooking at The Gift. Rowan is letting us raid his rooftop.”
And that was that. It wasn’t a question. There was no discussion. Nori had determined everything beforehand, told Archie what he was doing, and he was going to have to do it. Those were the terms of continuing their friendship.
“Okay,” he said. It was all he could say.
When Nori had him wake up at the break of dawn to start the prep work, it was all he could say.
When Nori told him to make dishes her way, it was all he could say.
When Nori had him carry the cart across the many bridges that spanned the creeks of the Roots, it was all he could say.
He knew this would be his future until they raised the money they needed.
And it looked like that would be a while.
“Thank you Rowan, this looks wonderful,” the woman that had hired them said as she put coins into Rowan’s hands.
“Oh, no, it wasn’t me,” he responded as he pushed the coins back. “This is their venture. I stayed out of the kitchen for all of this. I just came along to make introductions.”
Archie was glad Rowan had stayed out of their way. Taking orders from Nori was one thing. Having to get chummy with Rowan so soon after discovering his lie of omission was another. The old Black Jacket knew better than to push his limits, never trying to engage Archie in a real conversation. It was much too soon for that.
“Peony, this is Nori Harper and Archie Kent. I’m sponsoring their time at the Academy of Ambrosia.” Rowan smiled. Archie sighed. Half-truths. “Nori, Archie, this is Peony, an old friend. She comes around The Gift to eat every once in a while. You might recognize each other.”
“I think so,” Nori said before Peony could. Archie knew Nori well enough to recognize the lie. “Good to see you again.”
Archie offered a friendly nod as he uncovered a massive tray of shrimp scampi.
“And let’s see, who else do we have…” Rowan continued.
“Oh, don’t worry about introducing everyone,” Peony interrupted. She turned to Nori, shoving the coins in her hand. “Now, did he say Harper? Are you…”
Nori showcased her best, most manufactured smile. “I am.”
“Oh wow! What a bargain for us! Alright, I’m going to go back out there and let everyone know the food will be ready in a few minutes, is that alright?”
“Of course,” Nori said. Once Peony turned, Nori looked down at her payment. Her smile turned to stone. A bargain, indeed.
Meanwhile, Archie was still wrestling with whether or not to be upset that Peony had only cared about the Harper name. His pride and his shame still battled for ownership of the Kent name.
“Alright, you two. I’ll leave you to it,” Rowan said. “Just bring the cart and trays back when you’re done. If you have any leftovers, you can leave them here or bring them back and I’ll serve them at The Gift.”
“Okay,” Nori said. She had assumed all speaking responsibilities when it came to Rowan. “Thanks for setting this up.”
“Sure thing. Try to have fun.”
Nori waited until Rowan left before letting out a heaving sigh and stomping over to Archie.
“What is it?”
She held out her palm. Three pieces of gold and some silver.
“We spent over a gold on meat,” she complained. “If Rowan hadn’t provided us with all of this other stuff, we wouldn’t even be clearing two gold.”
“I’ve been cooking like ten hours straight,” Archie groaned. A glare from Nori reminded him that he had lost his right to complain. “I, uh—I mean, two gold is two gold. That’s just uh—fifty jobs. Fifty jobs and we’ll be fine.”
Nori’s shoulders sank. “We’re serving nearly twenty people. I’ve got another job set up next week where we’re only serving ten. We’ll be lucky to make a single gold from that one! Besides, you think you can keep this pace up fifty times this semester? On top of classes?”
Archie resisted the urge to sigh. Complaining wouldn’t get him back in Nori’s good graces.
“I’ll do whatever it takes,” he said. “You just tell me what to do. However many jobs it takes.”
“No, no…” Nori brushed her hair back and squeezed it as she thought. “It’s not about more jobs. We need better margins. Richer clients. We need to be cooking for people in the Crown, not the Roots.”
“But then we lose Rowan’s connections. Who do you know that lives in the Crown?”
Nori sucked in her bottom lip and let it out with a pop. “Julienne will know someone.”
“Oh.” Archie couldn’t help but sulk.
“I’ll handle it.”
Archie chewed on his lip. “I’m sorry, Nori.”
“Yeah.” She shrugged. “Pick up the tongs, they’re coming in. And smile. Maybe we can still get a tip out of this.”
