Page 9 of Wayfinder
The small blue male stood up and waved like he expected everyone to applaud. No one did.
“Heralded Framaddi chef Ala and her Aljani guard Etovar.” The Chancellor gestured at the next table and a tiny blue female. She was a lighter shade than her male counterpart, a rather lovely shade of turquoise that sparkled with the deep green dress she wore. Her eyes were dark blue, and thick navy hair fell over her shoulder in ringlets. The male at her side was handsome with pale skin, platinum blonde hair, and what looked like two pearl horns sprouting from his forehead.
“Famed chef Uilay of the Kwado and his assistant Varsanal, also of the Kwado.” I recognized the chef as being the one I replaced at the Baron’s estate. His guard seemed familiar as well, probably one of the dozens Baron Oappo employed. Uilay’s slimy green lips turned into a definite frown as he caught me watching.
“Finally, we have human chef Pearl and Vaktaire warrior, Jutuk.” The Chancellor waved at our table as though we were an afterthought. I could feel a half dozen eyes turn my way in a hateful glare. Jutuk felt it, too, and he scooted closer, one muscular arm draping over the back of my chair. Whether he meant the gesture to be protective or comforting, I couldn’t tell. Either way, I liked it.
“The rules are simple.” The Chancellor continued, sweeping his arms about dramatically. “We travel to Letsako, a nearby moon where we will remain until the competition completes. The contest consists of three challenges, with one creature each from the land, sky, and sea. In each challenge, the chef and assistant must hunt, kill, butcher, and cook the designated sacrifice.”
Sacrifice? What the hell? His choice of words made my skin crawl.
Chancellor Qaimus waved his arm again, and what appeared to be a solid wall behind him shimmered into nothingness, revealing four separate kitchen areas. The set-up was so familiar it made me wonder if perhaps someone had been watching the Food Channel. The two blue aliens looked pleased, but the frog chef wore a deep frown.
“Each chef may make use of his or her shuttle kitchen or prepare the challenge in the wild.” Chancellor Qaimus continued. “The group that completes the task first, with the most delicious dish, wins the challenge. The lowest-scoring chef in each challenge is disqualified. At the end of the competition,the winning chef has the honor of preparing a special dish for Duke Ako during his birthday celebration as well as winning the title of Best Chef in the Universe.”
Honestly, it didn’t sound too hard once you got past the hunting and killing part. Jutuk was by far the most impressive-looking warrior, so the hunting and killing might not prove an issue. Based on the way the other participants shot eye-daggers at me, my biggest challenge might be staying alive. Again, with Jutuk at my back, I wasn’t too worried.
“The first challenge will begin at dawn.” The Chancellor announced. “You will be served dinner in your chambers. I suggest you all get some rest. Here’s to a great contest. The AI will direct you.”
“Human chef Pearl and Vaktaire Warrior. Please follow the blue light to your quarters.” The AI voice, which sounded suspiciously like Siri, spoke quieter this time, not to compete with the instructions being given to the other contestants.
Jutuk held my chair as I rose, his hand once again gently gripping my upper arm as we followed the blinking blue light. Apparently, each team had its own color; alongside the bright blue pulsating on the floor were shades of red, green, and yellow.
The light led us away from the common room, down the twists and turns of a long hallway, stopping and flashing steadily outside two side-by-side doorways.
Jutuk reached out and waved his hand over a small black panel, and the door whished open.
The room was pristine in shades of white and gray. The walls seemed fabricated with the same odd plastic and metal amalgamation I’d noticed throughout the ship. It held a queen-sized bed on one side and a small sitting area on the other. The furniture was odd, modernistic with sharp lines, but appeared comfortable. On the far wall a bank of windows offered a wideview and the sudden shift from the docking bay to space startled me. I hadn’t realized we were moving.
“Well, goodnight,” I offered, stepping into the room. Turning to make sure the door closed, I gasped as Jutuk entered behind me.
“Ummm, what are you doing?”
The warrior grunted as he walked to the futuristic softa and unarmed himself, dropping the assortment of blades on a nearby table.
“I will sleep here.” He nodded at the sofa.
“Excuse me?” My ears buzzed slightly, and I didn’t feel nearly as upset about his comment as I should have.
“I vowed to protect you,” Jutuk said, removing his bandolier and dropping it on the table. “I cannot do that if we are separated.”
“It’s not like I’ll be sleeping in the hall.” I resisted and waved behind me. “Locked door?”
Jutuk snorted, completely unimpressed.
“Even now, the Framaddi and Romvesian plot to remove you from the contest.”
“What?” I blinked at him, a chill creeping along my spine. “How do you know that?”
Something that might have been a smile played at his full lips, and he tapped pointed ears that kind of reminded me of Legolas from Lord of the Rings.
“The male Framaddi occupies the room down the hall.” Jutuk settled on the sofa, bouncing slightly to test for comfort. “They are a species that excel at artistic endeavors.”
“Like cooking?” I guessed.
“Yes.” His golden gaze met mine, and I felt the slightest tingle ofsomethingdance along my skin. It had to be nerves.
“Do you really think they’ll try something?” Subterfuge in cooking competitions was nothing new. Although this might be the first time, someone might actually try to kill me.
