He spluttered a little. “Well, I know you did not enter through the screening gates, because you’re without displayed papers. Give me a reason not to throw you straight to the Guardians.” He’d decided to ignore her for now and continue the lecture.
Something about what he said stirred a memory. Right, the papers thing. Brace had mentioned that too.
Glancing down at my hands, I found I was unconsciously twisting them over and over. We were in trouble. Lucy had already spoken, so he knew we weren’t natives and we had nothing with which to defend ourselves.
“Say something, Abbs,” Lucy hissed at me.
“What do you recommend that won’t have us thrown to these Guardian people?” I whispered back hotly.
The man interrupted. “They’re taking these matters very seriously at the moment. The recent attempt from insurgent groups to infiltrate the palace has everyone on high alert.” He sighed.
Since I doubted he was just going to open the door and let us leave, we had no choice but to attempt to talk our way out of the situation. Before I could follow through with that, a loud rumble from my stomach echoed.
Shhh, I mentally berated my tummy. It appeared to be ready to eat my spleen, judging by the battle noises it was emitting.
Lucy snorted with laughter, shaking her head.
I threw a haughty glance in her direction. “The food is a huge distraction and it’s sitting right there.” I pointed to the tray, from which tantalizing aromas wafted in my direction.
“I apologize. My questions can wait a few moments. Please eat; you must be starving. You’ve been unconscious for many hours.” He looked thoughtful. “Perhaps you’ll be more inclined to converse once you’re more comfortable.”
Comfortable. Yeah, okay.
I love food, but not even the smell of warm, freshly baked bread, one of the scents I recognized from the tray, was enticing enough to forget we were being held prisoner.
Lucy had a different opinion as she dived over me toward the tray. “Out of my way, Abigail,” she muttered on her way past.
I shrugged. “Sorry about that. Love of food wins out over manners.”
Lucy stuck out her tongue, but didn’t break stride in her mission to uncover every dish.
“I wouldn’t throw stones, Abigail. Often when I sit next to you at dinner I worry about the safety of my limbs.”
Lucy had a point and that was with the crap they liked to call food on Earth.
She distracted my retaliation by handing me a bowl. It was filled to the brim with a dark, thick stew that sloshed a little over the edges. I picked up the utensil, which Lucy had dumped to the side, and my mouth watered in anticipation. I sank the rough spoon-shaped device into the bowl and lifted the first steaming scoop to my mouth. A variety of colored vegetables and a dark meat filled my mouth. I couldn’t savor that first bite long enough.
“Holy mother ...” I paused, my eyes closed in pure love. “I want to marry this food.”
There was no reply and, looking over, I did a double take. I couldn’t see Lucy’s face; it was half submerged in the huge bowl as she slurped down the stew.
I watched fascinated for a few moments. It was like an animal documentary, where the lions hack into a zebra.
Shaking my head, I went back to my delicious stew, letting the freshness tantalize my tongue. The flavors were strong, full-bodied. I had no idea food could be seasoned with anything other than salt. There were small green pieces floating, which, had we been back in the compound, would have been greatly concerning, but here may actually be –
“Luce, I think these green floaters are herbs.” A sense of reverence coated my words.
Lucy pulled her face from the bowl to examine the contents. She nudged the surface of the bowl.
“I’ve heard of these so called ‘herbs’ from the oldies’ fairy tales. You know the ones that start with ‘Back in the good old days.’” She shrugged. “I think they may have been right, though. This is a whole other level of tastiness.”
I shovelled repeated spoonfuls until my initial hunger subsided; at that stage I had no choice but to slow and catch my breath. Lucy handed me a chunk of roughly textured grain bread, the source of the delicious scent. Using this, I soaked up the last of the liquid. I took the first bite. It was gritty, but delicious.
Chewing, I looked around. I was fascinated to see Bady padding silently into the room. Against the white walls, he appeared even larger and more bizarre than he had outside. Stretching out on the blue woollen rug, he went straight to sleep.
Blondie shifted in the chair.
We locked eyes.
It was time to speak up.
“Sorry, I’m a little disorientated from face-planting into your ... force-field.” Can’t beat the brain-injury excuse. “We’re trying to make it to town ... I’m guessing we didn’t quite reach our destination.”