Chapter 20: Chapter 20: A Lecture on the Art of Dinner Conversation

I hold my breath. Please, Demos. Please, buddy. It’s part of my Side Quest.

[It is one of my quests.]

Demos’ voice is slow and measured, like a Buddhist monk in blissed-out contemplation.

[One of OUR quests.]

I bathe him with my tongue and he shimmies to shake off my utter uncoolness.

[Very well, it’s one of OUR quests, but for the love of the Primal Beast, do NOT do that again.]

I huff. [Aw, c’mon. It was just my way of bonding. I mean as in male beast bonding. Friendship bonding. We’re brothers!]

That gets his attention. His ears perk up like antennae. [Brothers?]

[Yes! Pals. Brothers. Comrades.]

[Hmmmm.] He pauses to chew on that radical idea. [I do hate my fur being matted down…]

[You’ll live.]

[Hummm, I suppose I will.]

The next thing I know, I’m getting deluged with a good licking. His tongue is velvety. It feels weird. Being licked is even stranger than licking people and beasts. But not a bad strange, no. Almost like family. As I said, brothers.

[See? That’s just fine. Good. I like it.] I lean into the tongue bath. [I like it a lot. See, my fur is naturally glossy and golden…]

[Yes, it’s blinding now. Even more blinding than when you let yourself be shampooed and brushed by Mistress Kaline like a show dog.]

I preen. [Hey, cleanliness is next to beastliness. So, do we have a deal? Are we going to bust the beast thieves that dishonored this house?]

[It’s our duty to do so, is it not?]

I roar loudly.

“YOU,”

Ser Maartenwitz marches in, a wooden toy soldier, and glares at us, tapping his foot.

“Both of you! The celebration is underway. We are having a feast. And the two of you are delaying it. The food is getting cold, and Cook is banging pots and pans, beside herself. She is in agony because her food has not been tasted yet. This is uncouth in the extreme. House etiquette lessons starting tomorrow after breakfast! Now, come, or no food for you.”

Stiff and wooden still, he marches back out of the arena while we amble along after him. The threat of no food spurs us onward, and we follow him obediently.

I nudge Demos. [Can he actually take away our food?]

[Technically, yes.]

[UGH.]

[But he would probably wear a pink frilly dress before he would make good on his threat. Master Lamant and Mistress Minette would never allow it.]

My paws slide out from beneath me and I fall on my face because of the image that sears my brain. OOOF.

[Demos, are you trying to kill me?]

[No! Keep up. We have to eat. I’m hungry! We used up so much energy and magic. What they call mana.]

[Yes, I know what mana is. But for the love of the Primal Beast, do not put such a nightmarish image of Maartenwitz in some pink frilly frock in my brain! My thinker can’t handle it.]

[Sorry.] Demos sounds earnest. [But you know what I was getting at. Now get up, get a move on.]

I stand up with a shake of my fur and a flick of my tail, and follow him to the dining room where piles of fish and meat tantalize us with their siren song. And, of course, equal piles of crunchy exotic fruits, and bowls of water.

Ahhhh. Heaven!

For the next few minutes or hours, time blurs. Nothing exists but the food in front of me and the occasional genial beastly banter with Demos. Although completely focused on his meal, Demos still manages to carry on an animated conversation about the recent challenge, about Ser Maartenwitz’s obnoxious appetite, and about how Mistress Vedette still thinks Tomas is the best dish in the dining room. Even more so than the stew she’s partial to.

[Is that Ser Maartenwitz’s second plate of food?] I ask.

[Third.]

My whiskers stand out. [Where does he put it all away?]

[No idea, maybe trying to order around everyone in the villa? Make sure every beast looks just so? That burns considerable energy.]

[Beast poaching does too.]

In retaliation, Demos poaches the rest of the food in front of me.

[HEY!]

[Not while we are eating! Tell me, “I do beg your pardon for being such a churlish bore.”]

I huff, but can’t help a smile. Demos is the OG. [What you said.]

[Not good enough. Mmmm, this fish is so delicious…]

[Fine! I do beg your pardon for being such a churlish bore. Now give me back my fish.]

Phew. Demos plops his ill-gotten gains back on my plate, and it seems to me that the amount has magically increased.

[This is just the best.] I sigh. [No meal in my life ever tasted this good.]

[Naturally not, you were scrounging for every morsel. So was I before Kaline found me.] Demos’ voice is frank and without sugarcoating. [I did tricks.]

[Tricks?]

He is honest. [First there was green all around me, then there were bars. Wooden bars, maybe bamboo. And I was being moved. And I was fed a few times, but not much. Then, the human let me out of the cage. I was in a village. Or a city. Big and overwhelming with streets and strange smells. Then, the human dangled a shiny thing on a sick in front of me and I chased it. He told me to dance.]

While I’m eating, I am hanging on every word, devouring Demos’ tale of misery. How is it I didn’t know this? He was poached from the wild! It sounds worse than anything that that Queenie woman planned for our future.

Demos continues. [I missed hunting. I had just begun to learn to hunt. I missed catching my own food and having to humiliate myself in order to eat. Were it not for Mistress Vedette passing the street corner where I degraded myself, I would have perished of embarrassment.]

[I didn’t know. You’re a survivor.]

His eyes flash. [I take poaching SERIOUSLY. We must find Memo and Judo!]

I get a brilliant idea. [Let’s form our own Beast Detective Agency!]

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