Chapter 42: The Order of the Fried Chicken

The Royal Scullery smelled of mildew and despair. In the corner, kneeling on the cold stone floor, were the Coral Snake and the Albino. They were currently scrubbing a pile of mud-crusted tubers with rough stones, looking miserable. Their fine silk dresses were stained, and their hands were red from the cold water.

When the door banged open, they both jumped, hissing instinctively.

Ren marched in, followed by Viper, who was carrying a massive, plucked Water-Fowl by the neck.

“Attention, inmates!” Ren announced, clapping her hands. “The pity party is over. We have work to do.”

“The King is mourning,” Ren lied smoothly, walking over to the hearth. “And so am I. And in my culture, when we mourn, we eat our feelings. And my feelings are currently craving something deep-fried.”

She turned to Viper. “Put the bird on the table. And the bucket of fat. Do you have the iron pot?”

Viper set the bird down. “The heavy pot? It is used for boiling laundry.”

“Not anymore. Rinse it out. We’re making history.”

The Albino Snake sniffed the air. “What are you doing? Why do you have the white-stalk dust?”

Ren poured the sack of flour onto a clean stone slab. She added salt, dried herbs she had swiped from the garden, and a generous amount of crushed [Fire Fruit].

“I am making the peace offering,” Ren said, coating the butchered pieces of bird in the flour mixture. “You two can either sit there and rot, or you can help me and get a bite.”

“We do not want your mammal food,” Coral sneered, though her eyes tracked the bird pieces hungrily. “We eat raw.”

“Suit yourself.”

Ren heated the pot of fat over the fire until it shimmered. She tested it with a drop of water. Hiss-Pop. Perfect.

She dropped the first batch of flour-coated wings into the oil.

SSSHHHH-CRACKLE.

The sound was aggressive. It was loud. It was the sound of magic happening.

But the smell…

Within minutes, the dank, mildewy scent of the scullery was obliterated. The air filled with the aroma of rendering fat, toasted wheat, savory spices, and juicy meat.

The snakes stopped scrubbing.

Viper, who was standing guard by the door, drifted closer, his spear forgotten.

“What…” Viper whispered, his nostrils flaring wide. “What is that scent? It smells like… burning… but good burning.”

“It’s called the Maillard reaction,” Ren explained, flipping a wing with her long chopsticks. “It’s the taste of happiness.”

She pulled the first batch out. The pieces of duck were golden-brown, crispy, and visibly steaming. The oil glistened on the craggy surface of the breading.

She set them on a wooden rack to drain.

“Done,” Ren announced.

She picked up a wing. It was hot—too hot for a human to hold comfortably, but perfect for a cold-blooded reptile.

She walked over to the Coral Snake.

“Eat,” Ren ordered, holding it out.

Coral hesitated. She looked at the crispy brown object. “It looks… like a rock. A hot rock.”

“Just bite it.”

Coral leaned in. She took a tentative nip.

CRUNCH.

The sound echoed in the quiet room. The breading shattered, releasing a puff of steam and the rich flavor of the duck fat.

Coral’s eyes went wide. Her pupils dilated until her eyes were entirely black.

She didn’t chew. She didn’t savor. She unhinged her jaw and swallowed the wing whole.

Then she grabbed Ren’s hand.

“More,” Coral gasped, her voice trembling. “The heat… it is trapped in the crust! It explodes inside!”

“Get in line,” Ren pulled her hand back. “If you want the drumsticks, you answer my questions. And you peel the rest of these potatoes.”

The Albino scrambled up, shoving her tubers aside. “I will peel! I will peel everything! Give me the crunch-meat!”

[System Notification: Diplomacy Successful.][Dish: ’Kentucky Fried Swamp-Bird’.][Effect: +20 Body Heat. +50 Obedience from Reptiles. Warning: Highly Addictive.]

Ren smiled. It was a terrifying smile.

“Good. Viper, lock the door. We’re having a staff meeting.”

The Feast

Ten minutes later, the scullery was a scene of carnage.

Viper, Coral, and the Albino were sitting on the floor, surrounded by piles of bones. They were greasy, they were warm, and they were visibly high on cholesterol and heat.

Ren sat on a stool, looking down at them like a mafia don. She nibbled on a wing delicately.

“So,” Ren said casually. “The King mentioned something about… secret tunnels? For ventilation?”

Coral, who was currently sucking the breading off a rib bone, nodded frantically.

“Yes, yes. The airways. They run under the floor.”

“Interesting,” Ren mused. “And where do these airways lead?”

“To the swamp,” the Albino mumbled, her mouth full. “They open… burp… near the roots of the Mangroves. But they are small. Only a snake can fit.”

’Or a small mammal,’ Ren noted internally. “And is there a map of the swamp currents?”

“The currents change,” Viper interjected, licking grease off his fingers. “Only the King knows the safe paths. He keeps the Star-Chart in the Vault.”

“The Vault,” Ren repeated. “That’s the big room with the scary door?”

“Yes,” Viper nodded. “The Obsidian Door. It has no lock. It opens only with the King’s Seal.”

“The Seal?”

“The Stone Key,” Coral clarified, reaching for the last piece of chicken. Ren slapped her hand away.

“Answer first. Snack later. Where is the Key?”

“He wears it,” Coral whined, eyeing the drumstick. “On his waist. The jade stone with the serpent carving. He never takes it off. Not even to bathe.”

Ren leaned back. ’The jade stone.’ She had seen it. It hung from his sash, clinking against his hip. It wasn’t just jewelry; it was the master key.

“And he sleeps with it?” Ren asked.

“Always,” the Albino confirmed.

Ren sighed. ’Of course he does.’

She tossed the last drumstick to Coral. “Okay. Good talk.”

She stood up. The snakes looked up at her with adoration.

“Are you… leaving?” Viper asked, looking disappointed. “Is there more bird?”

“No more bird,” Ren said. “But if you three keep your mouths shut about this little party… I might make ’Crackling Pork’ tomorrow.”

The three snakes gasped in unison. They didn’t know what pork was, but if it crackled, they wanted it.

“We are silent!” Coral swore, bowing. “Silent as the grave!”

“Good.”

Ren walked to the door. She had the first piece of the puzzle.

[Task 1 Complete: The Belly of the Beast.][Reward: Palace Blueprint (Ventilation Shafts) added to Memory.]

She paused at the threshold.

“Viper,” she said.

“Yes, Alpha Female?” Viper stood up, trying to look dignified despite the grease on his chin.

“Take me back to the Nest. I have to go… mourn some more.”

As they walked back through the dark corridors, Ren’s mind was spinning.

She knew the exit: The Ventilation Shafts. She knew the obstacle: The Swamp Currents. She knew the solution: The Star-Chart in the Vault. She knew the key: The Jade Stone on Syris’s waist.

The only problem was getting the key off a man who slept coiled around her like a possessive vine.

’I need to knock him out,’ Ren thought. ’Really knock him out. Food coma isn’t enough. I need…’

She remembered Vex’s words about the dream puff mushrooms.

’I need a sedative.’

She looked at Viper’s back.

“Viper,” she asked innocently. “Does the King keep any… medicinal herbs in the palace? For insomnia? My grief keeps me awake.”

Viper nodded. “Yes. In the Vault.”

Ren groaned. ’Everything is in the damn Vault.’

’Okay,’ she thought. ’Change of plan. I can’t drug him to get the key. I have to get the key to get the drug.’

She touched the Pearl Hairpin in her hair.

“Looks like I’m going to have to do this the hard way.”

[System Comment: The ’Hard Way’ implies seduction. Good luck, Host.]

“Shut up,” Ren hissed.

She entered the Nest.

Syris was there. He was sitting on the bed. He looked up as she entered, his eyes lighting up. “You smell of grease,” Syris noted, sniffing the air. “It is… disgusting. And delicious.”

He patted the spot next to him.

“Come. I have washed. I am warm. And I have decided that your mourning period is boring.”

Ren gripped her frying pan.

“One day at a time, Syris,” she forced a sad smile. “One day at a time.”

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