Part 34 (2/2)
”It is the Khalla's blood or nectar which heals,” Turra corrected her. ”But to answer your question, Khalla-to-be, you will not be able to stop your Kit'tara from coming forward once you enter your fourth stage or Hel. And indeed, why would you want to? The Kit'tara is like what the Earthlings call a b.u.t.terfly-you are the outer sh.e.l.l or chrysalis if you wish. When there is no more need for the chrysalis, the b.u.t.terfly breaks free and emerges.”
”Gee, thanks,” Emily muttered. The priestess seemed to be saying she was nothing but an ugly coc.o.o.n that would be discarded as soon as the real star-the beautiful b.u.t.terfly Kit'tara-broke free. Emily wasn't in love with that idea at all. It was both frightening and insulting. But before she could open her mouth to say so, Lit'aal was leading her to the white chaise lounge which was sitting in front of the fire-bubble pit and urging her to sit down.
”Please, make yourself comfortable Khalla-to-be,” she murmured. ”You must be hungry and tired after your long trip.”
As a matter of fact, she was right. Emily was incredibly tired after all the emotions she'd gone through lately and she was also very hungry. The protein paste and bars, which were all Tragar kept in his s.h.i.+p, sustained her but she never actually felt full from eating them.
”I am a little hungry,” she admitted.
”Wonderful! Then recline at your ease,” Turra said, smiling. ”Lit'aal and I will serve you the Feast of Becoming.”
”Um, okay.” Emily wasn't sure what kind of food was involved in such a feast but she was so hungry she was certain anything besides protein paste would seem like ambrosia.
”Here we are.” Lit'aal pushed a wooden tray on wheels in front of Emily. On the tray was an elegant green clay pot carved with all kinds of mysterious looking symbols. Some of them looked like animals-strange ones that had beaks like parrots and tails like monkeys. But many of the symbols looked like eyes.
Weird, Emily thought. But the delicious smelling steam that rose from the clay pot when Lit'aal took off the top made her forget all about the strange symbols.
”The Soup of Far Seeing,” Turra said loftily. ”Here, Khalla-to-be, you must imbibe it in this manner.” She handed Emily a wide, curving straw that was twisted into many loops and swirls. Emily took it doubtfully.
”A crazy straw? You want me to eat the soup with a crazy straw?”
”That is a zlicket-it is the traditional instrument of imbibing for this course of the feast.”
”All right.” Emily shrugged and put the wide end of the straw down into the steaming clay pot of soup. The broth was thin but cloudy so though she could feel the straw b.u.mping against different ingredients, she couldn't really see any of them. Still, it smelled really good and she was hungry enough not to be picky. Carefully, she sucked at the straw, trying not to burn her mouth.
”Do not worry that you will scorch your tongue,” Lit'aal told her, smiling. ”The zlicket will cool the soup by the time it reaches your mouth.”
”Thank you.” Emily smiled at her and sucked with more confidence. Suddenly her mouth was flooded with meaty, flavorful broth. It tasted like the richest, most delicious beef stew Emily had ever had but there was a wilder note in it too-some kind of spice that made her think of curry. ”Mmm!” She sipped again. ”Delicious!”
”The Temple chefs will be gratified to hear that their creation pleases you,” Turra told her. ”They have been preparing this feast for you since we were first notified of your impending arrival.”
”That's very nice of them-please thank them for me,” Emily said. ”Or maybe I could go and thank them myself? Where's the kitchen around here, anyway?”
”Oh, no, Khalla-to-be.” Turra looked shocked. ”A Khalla does not debase herself by speaking to such common, low workers. It will be honor enough for them to know that their food was eaten by an exalted one such as yourself.”
”I'm really not that exalted,” Emily protested, taking another sip. ”I mean, I'm just a kindergarten teacher. Or I was before Tragar found me.”
”That life is over for you now,” Turra said, smiling. ”Soon you will be exalted among all females-a G.o.ddess in mortal form.”
”Um...I guess.” Emily still wasn't quite sure what being a Khalla actually entailed. To hear Turra talk about it, it sounded like these women were kind of like rock stars, touring the world with an entourage and performing for hordes of grateful, wors.h.i.+pful fans wherever they went. That kind of life didn't appeal to her shy, retiring nature at all but she wasn't at all sure how she was going to tell Mother Chundra that.
”You'll love it, Khalla-to-be.” Turra's green eyes gleamed with excitement. ”You'll see-it will not matter who you are mated to because you will spend all your time being adored.”
”That doesn't exactly sound like my cup of tea,” Emily said carefully. ”If I'm always on the road, when will I ever have time for my husband...er mate and kids?”
”Oh, Khallas do not have children,” Lit'aal said, shaking her head. ”Some say that they used to, many ages ago but now, well, it has been over a hundred years since any Khalla gave birth.”
”Are you sure about that?” A little part of Emily's heart seemed to die. Before she'd been resigned to never having kids because she couldn't stand the idea of having s.e.x. But now she and Tragar were getting so comfortable together, she was almost certain she would be able to do the deed-as long as she was doing it with him. And she loved kids-why else would she become a kindergarten teacher? The thought of having Tragar's baby had even flitted briefly across her mind. And now her two attendants were yanking away her dream before it could even fully form in her head.
”I am sorry, Khalla-to-be, but it is so.” Lit'aal looked sorry for her. ”But as Turra says, you would scarcely have time for children anyway. A Khalla is joined to the people she serves, even more than her chosen mate. She is an amba.s.sador of good will from the Temple and all eyes are upon her ceaselessly.”
This job was sounding worse and worse but Emily didn't know how to say that. Clearly to her two priestess helpers, it was the best gig in the entire planet. If you don't mind being in the public eye constantly. Ugh! To cover her confusion, she took another big sip of the soup. But something stopped the flow before she could get half a mouthful. Frowning, she sucked harder. Was something stuck in the straw? Pulling it out of the deep clay pot she started to examine it and gasped.
The straw was made of some kind of stretchy, transparent material that wasn't quite plastic but didn't seem organic either. Lodged in its lower half, just below the first curve, was a bulging blue eyeball which seemed to be staring at her.
”Oh my G.o.d!” Emily nearly dropped the straw in a sudden surge of revulsion. ”What the h.e.l.l is that?” she demanded, staring at the eye which still seemed to be looking back.
”A chiroth eye of course.” Turra spoke as though it was no big deal. ”That is what the Soup of Far Seeing is made of-it enables a Khalla-to-be to harness her inner vision. Would you like to eat one of the eyes? It is said that those who do have waking dreams that often portend the future.”
”No, I don't want to eat an eyeball,” Emily exclaimed. ”I mean...” She took a deep breath and put the straw back in the soup so she couldn't see the eye. ”No thank you. I'm sorry-that just surprised me is all. We don't...have that kind of stew on the planet where I come from.”
”Because you come from a planet with no other Khallas,” Lit'aal said soothingly. ”Only a Khalla or a Khalla-to-be may partake of this dish without dying.”
”What?” Emily was freaked out all over again. ”Are you telling me it's poison?”
”Only to one who is not a Khalla,” Turra said.
”Well...that's nice, I guess.” Emily swallowed. ”But you know, I believe I've had enough for now. Thank you so much.”
”You're very welcome,” Turra said as Lit'aal whisked the green clay pot away. ”It's wise of you not to fill up on soup. You must have room for each of the courses.”
”There's more?” Emily asked apprehensively.
”Of course. Here, my Khalla-to-be, is the Tureen of Oration.”
”The what?” Emily asked, as Lit'aal put another steaming dish down in front of her. It was a broad, oval shaped dish made of some green metal and it appeared to contain a kind of bubbling, cheesy ca.s.serole.
”The Tureen of Oration. A Khalla must always be able to address her followers in an eloquent and charming manner,” Turra said.
”Try it,” Lit'aal added. ”It's really good.”
”I thought no one but a Khalla could eat this stuff,” Emily said.
The little priestess blushed.
”That is only the soup. This particular dish is not poison to non-Khalla's. One of the chefs is a friend of mine and he let me try a little.”
”I thought you just said we weren't supposed to talk to the help.” Emily raised an eyebrow.
”So we are not-or a Khalla is not, anyway. And it is doubtful whether her personal attendants should either.” Turra gave the other priestess a disapproving look.
”I don't mind,” Emily said quickly, not wanting to get Lit'aal, who seemed like the nicer of the two, into trouble. ”It looks really great-I don't blame you for trying some. In fact, would you two like to sit down and have some with me now?” She smiled at both of them. ”I hate eating alone.”
”Oh, no!” Turra looked even more shocked than when Emily had expressed a desire to go thank the chefs personally.
”We cannot eat the Feast of Becoming with you, Khalla-to-be, as neither Turra or myself has any hope of becoming a Khalla,” Lit'aal explained gently. ”But thank you for asking us. It shows a good heart.”
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