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“I think I can make a cake from the pancake batter and frosting from…ah, there it is.” Marilynn fills her arms with ingredients, passing us jars to set out on the dirty table for her.
I’m relieved at how fast she mixes the ingredients with Skylenna’s help. After the oven is heated, they slide in a metal container and clean up their mess.
“We have company!” Warrose races in the kitchen.
No. That’s not within the perimeters of time we have. Who is it? Did they hear us?
“Lights off,” I command. “Everyone under the table.”
Everyone scrambles to crawl under the table. I flip the lights off, crouching low in a corner. The footsteps are light, and the pattern indicates it’s a woman, around one hundred and forty pounds. The rhythm of her breath is slightly labored. She’s older. Fifties perhaps.
My eyes grow wide as I notice a glowing light hovering closer, illuminating the doorway.
I’m going to have to kill someone again.
As the soft yellow light floods the kitchen, I lock eyes with the older woman. She’s wearing a white hat. The new cook. Her sleepy facial expression doesn’t change. No shift in the muscles of her forehead. No startled blinks. She isn’t surprised to see us.
“Canux é hoiex?” she says, lifting her tone at the end, indicating a question.
Help. I recognize that word.
“Buixezez,” I respond, hoping I pronounced it right.
The older woman with a round face, olive skin, and fluffy brown hair, lifts her chin in understanding.
“Canux yé dequexez tuex?” I know that’s not right. But I hope she pieces together what I’m trying to ask.
She nods twice and says a full sentence I can’t translate for the life of me. I flip on the lights so we can finish. Skylenna gives me a few strange looks as she helps remove the cake from the oven and finishes the frosting. We rush out of the room, hoping the cook understood the assignment I gave her. Otherwise, this was all for nothing.
“Be honest, have you known how to speak Old Alkadonian all along, or have you been learning while we’ve been here?” Skylenna finally asks as we jog back to our cages.
“I’ve been picking it up, committing Ruth’s translations to memory.”
Warrose laughs behind us. “Don’t tell Ruth.”
I wasn’t planning on it. It’s the one area she feels useful in. Plus, I’m not fluent in the slightest. It’s a complex language with a lot of variations based on intent and circumstance. I’d need to see it written, to understand the grammatical practices.
We need Ruth, even if I can pick up on words and phrases.
We’ll always need Ruth.
“What did she say?” Marilynn asks from my left.
“I think she asked if she could help or if we needed help.”
“And your response?”
“I told her the word birthday. And asked if she could deliver it to our table.” At least, I hope that’s what was asked.
Ruth is awake by the time we return, looking pissed, confused, and like she’s about to explode with questions. Loud ones. The kind that will wake Niles up.
“Shhh.” Warrose kneels next to her. “It’s for Niles’s birthday.”
“Why wasn’t I included?” Ruth hisses.
“Someone needed to stay with Niles,” Skylenna answers, closing my cage and settling in.
“Great. So I was a prop in this adventure.” She rolls her eyes, laying back down.
