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14
“Who was my father?”
The question reverberated in my mind with my every step towards the kitchens. The rest of the day passed for me in a blur while I sat in Tharion’s lair, thinking, remembering, assuming, questioning. Analyzing every second of the dream I had of my mother. Her words echoed in my head, making far more sense than they had at that moment.
“I’m trying to make something of myself, Mom.”
“Oh, honey. You are already more than you can even imagine…”
Like having Dragon DNA in me? Nope, I never would have imaginedthat. It was all just conjecture at this point of course, but what else could it be? It was the only theory that made sense.
Then there was the portrait of my father. One thing was for sure. He hadn’t been just a good warrior. A good warrior didn’t get his portrait done like he was meant to be remembered. George Washington got painted like he was meant to be remembered, because HE WAS.
Only legends were immortalized.
Perhaps they had wanted to remember him for everything Evie told me about him. For riding the first Dragon, discovering that anyone could be selected by those beautiful creatures and not just the Devenish family chosen by theElemental GodsorCelestials. He’d learned everything he could about the Dragons, and fought with Evie's parents before finally going to the Mirror World for good…
Actually, he sounded like a legend to me. One to be proud of… but then, why couldn’t Evie just tell everyone that I was his son?
I wanted to go ask her. I wanted to regard my mother’s plea and let go of the pain by finally reading her letter… but it was time for my punishment, so it would have to wait.
Sounds of joyful chatting danced among noises of knives hitting the chopping board, water boiling, and something ripping. Corn husks, maybe? Stopping by the archway to the first kitchen, I found that those standing on the side of the space with tables, were busy cutting and smashing potatoes to their hearts’ content. Others were cleaning up sweet corn, and dropping the loosed grains into large barrels. There were A LOT of people in this hidden kingdom, so it took a lot to feed them.
“Hi, Braxton. Do you need something?” Akasia, the head cook of kitchen number one asked.
“Are you hungry?” Toby, her twelve-year-old son echoed, munching on a small bowl of mashed potatoes. “The mash is so good—”
Her mother yanked the bowl from him, halting his words. “Stop eating and go help Layla and the others. Those potatoes aren’t going to peel themselves.”
“Okay,” he mumbled, sweeping a finger into the bowl and rushing away from his mother’s grasp before she could smack him. He landed by the sinks on the other half of the space, and began to peel.
“That boy is always eating! I don’t know why he isn’t rolling around by now.” Akasia shook her head while I chuckled with the others. “What do you need, darling?”
“Sorry to interrupt. I’m just looking for Enix and Lais, the chief told me to find them.”
Everyone in the kitchen exchanged anoh shitglance, and Akasia shook her head. “Oh, darling. What did you do?”
Sighing, I made a face. “How much time do you have?”
Her lips twitched in amusement. “Third kitchen, all the way to the back. That’s where you’ll find the butchers.”
Holy hell. “The butchers?”
She gave me a pointed look. “Good luck.”
“I hope he’s not a puker…” Toby mumbled.
“Just keep peeling,” I retorted, narrowing my eyes at him. “You missed a spot.”
Laughing, Akasia waved me off, and I headed to my now dreaded punishment. Passing the other kitchens, I noticed soup, salad, and roasted chicken was on the menu tonight, but something told me that by the time the butchers were done with me, I was not going to be hungry anymore.
Waving at Isaac when I entered the third kitchen, I went to him. “Enix and Lais?” I asked simply, and he pointed to a hallway on the right.
“Please don’t be a puker.”
Geez, why did everyone keep telling me that?
Grunting, I moved down the hall and instantly felt the drop in temperature in the next room. Four large white tables lined the space on each side, currently being wiped by various people. Plunging an oversized sea sponge in a bucket filled with the cleaner substance, they dropped it on the table and began to scrub the dirt away, then wiped it with a dry rag, and used clean water to wash it.
