Page 32 of Taking Jenny
Surge tore open what looked like a roll and explained, “Many of Earth’s plants actually came from Orhon and became your native plants, but they are hybrids of ours. And vice versa. Our soil is different, yielding very different results from what you’re accustomed to. You may find our meat, fruits, and vegetables to be not at all like what you know.”
“I thought you were a murdering gambler, Surge, not a farmer,” I said with a mild tease in my tone.
“My mother is a food chemist.”
Tiger looked at me sidelong, then asked Surge, “Which would make you…?”
“Strategic,” he said, and took a bite of his bread.
I was almost certain we would never get a straight answer from the tiny man, but I didn’t feel threatened by him either.Maybe that’s a part of his strategy. Either way, I chowed down on some kind of bread thing spread with what Tiger described as a fermented vegetable paste. Whatever it was, I couldn’t get enough of it. Salty, umami, spicy, and completely addictive.
The doors behind me opened, and Longshot’s expression went from observational to concerned. I looked back to find Mal storming toward the table, his expression ominous. He took a seat across from me and ripped a chunk of bread from a large loaf and angrily bit at it, like it owed him money.
“Trouble, friend?” Discord purred.
He glared at her. “More than I care to admit.” Then, he glanced at me. “Jenny, have you had much food this morning?”
Seemed a strange question. “Some. Why?”
His lips pursed into a grim line. “Because I had hoped to prevent you from vomiting.”
I set my bread down, my stomach flipping, but I supposed I had to face reality at some point. “Time for our torture, then?”
He exhaled a harsh sigh. “In a manner of speaking.”
Longshot’s brows furrowed with worry, and even Rhonda seemed concerned about Malice’s dark mood. “What has you ruffled like a jem’hora, Mal?”
“The avatar Justice has announced for Illiapol,” he grated out.
Surge, the first to seemingly figure out what he meant by that, gasped, his eyes rounding. “It’s not possible.”
“What’s not possible?” I asked, glancing around the table in confusion.
But seconds later, Longshot, Discord, and Tiger also seemed to understand what Mal was referring to.
Next to me, Tiger’s entire body tensed up, his hands curling into fists on the table. “Justice cannot do that! She’s a human! Isn’t there something in the law—”
“Are you going to tell the Ruler of Orhon he can’t do what he wants, boy?” Mal snapped.
“What is it that he wants?” I asked, completely lost.
“You,” Tiger spat, his voice full of rage. “He wantsyouto be the Illiamor avatar.” Then he turned to Mal for confirmation. “Doesn’t he?”
Mal couldn’t look at me. “Yes.”
Given the previous night’s discussion, I thought I knew what that meant. But I needed to hear the exact words. “Justice wants me to be the…guest of honorat the Illiapol feast?”
Mal nodded shortly. “You are set to run the trial of Illiamor. Whether you end up as the guest of honor remains to be seen.”
My entire body chilled at the realization.I’ll be dead. And people are going to eat me. After everything they had told me about that abhorrent holiday, those words spun in a terrifying loop through my head.
“Don’t give her hope, Mal,” Discord said, her face as close to sympathetic as she was probably capable. “Don’t pretend she’s not going to end up filleted. It’s cruel. Even for you.”
He whirled on her, his expression brimming with anger. “And why would I encourage her to give up, Discord?”
She jerked her chin at me. “Look at her. You think she’s a fighter?”
Everyone at the table glanced at me. Tears streamed down my cheeks before I realized they’d started.I’ll be dead. And people are going to eat me.
