Magic Banquet by A.E. Marling Page A

the
dragonfruit in both hands and brought it to her nose. It smelled
like a wilted flower, good but faded.
    The Chef said, “Another such dragonfruit was
fed to a goddess’s newborn son. He gained his full power in but a
single day, and the people called him the Winged Fire.”
    Something cold grazed Aja’s arm. She
clutched the fruit to her chest and saw Solin. He had reached to
her with a crutch.
    “Careful,” he said. “Don’t eat its
peel.”
    Aja couldn’t look at Solin without needling
sensations running down her neck. She shouldn’t have shouted what
she had about his leg being ugly. Nodding to him, she sat in front
of a plate and pressed a knife against the dragonfruit.
    On the first cut, the fruit wriggled in her
grasp. She could only guess the plate had shifted on the carpet. Or
the fruit had moved, trying to escape.
    Her knife sawed through an outer layer of
fiery pink. She wondered if the fruit’s flesh would be a swirl of
yellow or orange. A blast of green?
    “What if it’s blue inside?” Aja asked. She
had noticed the empress eat a second blueberry. “That’d be
amazing.”
    The knife tip clicked against the plate. Aja
pushed the halves apart. She held her breath, ready to gasp.
Instead, she sighed.
    A speckled white filled the dragonfruit. Its
insides looked like boredom dotted with disappointment.
    “Don’t be sad.” The empress wrapped an arm
around Aja. A third blueberry sneaked its way into the empress’s
mouth. “You’ll hurt the fruit’s feelings, and it’s made itself so
delicious for you.”
    The lord rested himself on a knee to speak
over the empress’s shoulder. “My little licorice, don’t eat another
blueberry. It’ll not be so inspirational.”
    “I’ve only had two,” she said.
    “You’ve had three. Enough for any
mortal.”
    Aja cut off a square of dragonfruit and
crunched it between her teeth. How astonishingly bland. She shook
her head. The lord had been right.
    A smacking sound made Aja glance at Old
Janny. She was licking her fingers and nibbling the apple core. She
belched and lifted her arms to inspect her hands. “I’m still made
of wrinkles and veins. When is my youth kicking in? Where’s that
man-strocity, the Chef?”
    He was leaving. The glistening dome of his
head descended a spiral staircase. The marble balustrade reddened
from a surge of kitchen light.
    “He skulked off again,” Old Janny said.
    The djinn floated in front of Old Janny,
pouring tea into a cup decorated with blue lotuses. “Most people
don’t digest magic instantly,” the djinn said. “Is it usually
different for you?”
    Aja chewed another piece of dragonfruit. It
had sweetness of a sort, but not like candy. A mild taste, a
thoughtful one, it made Aja curious for the next mouthful.
    “Oh—oh!” The empress gripped her belly.
“It’s still tickling me. Ah! The eel ate one of my
blueberries.”
    Aja said, “The eel might have found another
bite of caviar.”
    “I can only eat a few blueberries. What if
it stole my muse?”
    “Fish probably don’t even like fruit.”
    “Then it’d be a funny fish in me.” The
empress squirmed. “His name is Wiggles. I think he ate it.”
    Aja hoped her tickler eel disliked the taste
of dragonfruit. Maturity would be wasted on a fish. She never
should’ve swallowed it live.
    The flavor of the dragonfruit grew on her.
Its subtlety unlocked in her mouth in a hidden treasure of vanilla
and watermelon. I won’t rush eating this. She would savor it
to the last bite.
    “Pfthh!” Old Janny made a sound of disgust
and set down her cup, glancing again at her hand. “Tea might as
well be bath water. Where is the sugar?”
    Petals smoldered as the djinn drifted above
the flower vases. “We have honey crystals.”
    “Bring me sugar.”
    “The Chef will forbid it.” The necklace key
bounced against the djinn’s chest. It was ornate, the kind of key
that always opened something amazing. “Sweets are poisonous to
magic.”
    “Those words