They liked it. All of them did. Cheedas was staring at me after he'd taken his first bite. I recognized one of the High Demons—he was the King. Wouldn't do to piss the King off, I guess. And since the other one was his brother, well, same thing, almost. I was cleaning the kitchen again after the mess I'd made fixing them a late dinner. They ate and talked while I worked. I'd gotten flour on my freshly mopped floor, so I had to mop that spot again while I waited for their dishes.

* * *

"He understands names if you tell him and point to yourself," Cheedas informed the two High Demons, handing his empty plate and glass to Niff. "His name is Niff, by the way. At least that's what they're calling him, as he doesn't remember who he is and can't speak."

"Niff," Jayd said. He recognized the little common as the one who'd interrupted his dinner in the arboretum. Niff looked up as his name was spoken, a question in his eyes. "Jaydevik," Jayd tapped his chest with a finger. Niff nodded his understanding. "Gardevik," Jayd poked his brother on the arm. The little common's eyebrows rose as he stared at Garde.

"I don't think he likes you," Jayd teased his brother. Niff nodded respectfully to Garde and went back to mopping the floor.

* * *

The two High Demons sat in the kitchen, sipping additional glasses of wine while I washed their plates and utensils, putting all of it away. Cheedas had left again, leaving the two High Demons to finish eating. They were discussing something, I could tell. It didn't concern me that much, until Jayd said Niff again. I looked up, thinking he wanted something. Jayd looked at me and went off on some tangent. I had no idea what he wanted, but he kept going, gesturing now and then.

Chapter 4

"Since Glinda wants you to go to the Southern Continent, brother, to check the area, you could take little Niff, here, to do your cooking. That way we won't upset Cheedas so much and the kitchen won't suffer as a result," Jayd grinned at his brother. They'd brought their proposition to Glinda earlier, telling her she could make the decision on who led the task force to the Southern Continent. Garde had blown smoke for ticks afterward when she'd named him right off.

"We'll finish with the questioning and the sentencing first," Garde huffed. "But Niff can go. I like his cooking," he nibbled on a bit of leftover steak. "And he won't be bothering me over every little thing since he can't speak."

"We only have a hundred Drith and Croth left, brother. You ought to select the guards you wish to take with you now—both High Demon and commons—before you go. If you choose a captain, he can make arrangements for transportation and supplies."

"Fine," Garde muttered. He hated taking trips that used ground transportation. He preferred the normal method all High Demons used—that of skipping from one place to another. The drawback to skipping was that High Demons could only skip themselves from one place to another. If commons went, horses and wagons would be employed instead.

"Larevik is a good choice for captain," Jayd grinned.

"If my brother weren't King, I might thrash him," Garde grumbled, pushing his wineglass toward Niff, who accepted it and took it to wash. Jayd laughed and slapped his brother on the back.

* * *

It was quite late when I made my way to bed that night, and I almost fell asleep in the shower. My eyes were closing as I cleaned up and I was afraid to lean against the tiled wall in case I did nod off. Orliff was already asleep and snoring softly when I crawled into bed. He was shaking me awake before the sun came up the following morning, just as he always did.

My life as a kitchen drudge went in a different direction, though, after I cooked for the King and his brother. Cheedas would stay after the late meals were served and the kitchen cleaned, asking me through words and mime to cook something else. He watched me closely as I made sugar cookies. I hadn't seen anything close to chocolate anywhere and wished for it on more than one occasion. I wanted brownies—had a taste for them, suddenly. They did have oats, so oatmeal cookies came into being and I knew how to make fresh pasta so Cheedas and I tried our hand at lasagna. It turned out very well, even if the noodles were thicker than usual. I resolved to make them thinner the next time. Jaydevik and Gardevik both showed up for the lasagna tasting and Jayd was more than happy with what he got.

I showed Cheedas the meat grinder at one point, silently asking him, as best I could if we could get another plate with smaller holes so we could make spaghetti. He finally understood when I drew a rough picture in some flour scattered across the prep table. He had a new plate for me in a couple of days and when I made spaghetti for him the first time, he was in raptures.

Cheeses on the High Demon planet were also very good; the goat cheeses were some of the best, I discovered. We made Alfredo sauce and covered more noodles, sliced half an inch in width. I was getting the High Demons hooked on Italian without really meaning to.

* * *

"How do we tell him he has a day off?" Orliff consulted Darvul and Noff. Niff, thinking he was supposed to go to the kitchens, was dressed and ready to walk out the door.

"I don't know," Noff shrugged. "What were you planning to do today? Do you think we should take him along and let him spend time with us?"

"I was going to visit my father," Orliff said. "I'll take him with me." Orliff went to grab Niff's hand before he could go out the door.

* * *

Orliff was telling me to come; I understood that word now. I didn't know what he was saying after he said come, though. I blew out a breath, let him keep his grip on my hand and followed him out the door and down the long hallway that led to the front entrance.

We walked through the city that day instead of riding; I was able to see more of it that way. Most of the city was rebuilding—I was glad about that, but much of it was still empty space. The comesuli had been busy—most of the rubble was cleared away already. Some buildings still stood—we passed the occasional open shop and vegetable market, all with goods and wares on display. Small comesuli were running and chasing one another through the streets, laughing while they did so. That cheered me up, although it did make me wonder how many children died when the Ra'Ak attacked.

Orliff and I walked for an hour before we came to a shop where rugs were sold. It smelled of wool, dye and a brush with Ra'Ak scales. An older comesula came forward and hugged Orliff when we arrived. I knew by scent that he was Orliff's parent, though they looked nothing alike. Orliff explained that I was handicapped and his parent, whose name was Paraf, motioned for me to follow him and found a chair for me inside his tiny living quarters. Orliff and I were served tea and small pieces of dried fruit dipped in sugar. Paraf and Orliff had catching up to do; they talked nonstop for two hours, after which we ate a small meal and then the talking began again. It was late afternoon when they finally ran down—Paraf often left us to help a customer.

His rugs were beautifully patterned, and made of colorful, hand-dyed wool. I'd fingered one or two of them while we'd stood inside his shop early on. Paraf was three hundred years old; I could tell from his scent. He'd also been making rugs for a very long time; that was obvious. Curiously, I watched Paraf as he bargained with a High Demon for two rugs, eventually accepting six gold pieces for both. At least somebody was getting paid for their labor.

Orliff and I made our way back to the palace, returning in time to get dinner in the kitchen. I was served a plate of food and it wasn't the scrapings, this time. Dinner was chicken stew, and it made me want to bake biscuits to go with it—to make a chicken pot pie. I held back though, eating my dinner gratefully.

That was my life for the next six weeks; seven days in the kitchen, followed by a day off. I wanted to go back to the arboretum, but was too afraid I'd run into other High Demons so I didn't risk it. I also wanted to turn to mist at times and sit on one of the palace domes. That would probably scare Orliff and Noff to death; they kept a close eye on me whenever I wasn't working in the kitchen. I didn't want to frighten them; they were doing their best to take care of me, even if I did appear to be a disabled casualty of war.

I was adding to my vocabulary, too, but I hadn't attempted speech. I wasn’t sure I could pronounce the words. I understood everything better, at least—Cheedas didn't have to mime so much. I understood cut up carrots or stir the soup or any number of other cooking-related sentences. I got a few other words out of kitchen gossip; the comesuli did love to gossip. None of it had to do with somebody's daughter or girlfriend getting pregnant or fooling around with anybody. The comesuli didn't have sex and their children were produced autonomously.

A pregnant comesula worked in the kitchen and wore a type of sling over his shoulder to hold up his pouch—it was growing on his lower left side. I found that fascinating. I also heard the word Baetrah mentioned and discovered that the pregnant comesula was missing a traditional trip to the volcano because it erupted and the Southern Continent wasn't a safe place to visit at the moment. I didn't know that soon I would be headed in that direction myself.

* * *

"You're taking a comesula injured during the attacks?" Glinda had hands on her hips as she glared at Jayd's brother.

"He cooks very well and since he can't speak, he can't scold me," Garde smiled. He was irritating Glinda, which suited him very well. Long ago, more than twelve hundred years, in fact, he'd taught Glinda. She'd learned how to fight from him. He'd also taught her how to skip and write and many other things High Demons were expected to know. He'd angered her, too, when he told her what her life would be as a High Demon female. She'd skipped right off the planet and had gone missing for a very long time, until his brother found her by accident. She had absolutely no respect for Gardevik or his position as Jayd's Prime Minister, and Garde didn't mind in the least.

"You said I could choose my guards and commons; therefore Niff is coming with me. Good luck on getting those mashed potatoes you like so well," Garde grinned.