A Feast for Starving Stone (Chefs of the Five Gods) by Beth Cato

Author:Beth Cato [Cato, Beth]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: 47North
Published: 2024-01-09T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER NINETEEN

SOLENN

We of Braiz call Selland our father and mother. No matter our work, Selland’s touch is upon us. Our sailors feel this pressure most heavily, to be sure, but seaweed even fertilizes our farmers’ fields.

—August Chef Gurvan of the city of Nont in Braiz

“Selland, Selland, fill our sails and rend theirs.”

“Selland, keep our sailors strong and safe.”

“Selland, grant our cannons power and accuracy.”

“Selland, blast the Albionish into tiny bits to feed fish!”

So many prayers around Solenn, some quiet and many aloud, but Solenn knew hers were distinct in their plea. The Grand Pentad was likely filling up now as well, the people there principally praying to Selland and Hester as they sought protection for their homes and loved ones. Though Solenn was frustrated that Hester’s head had only just been placed within the hearth, the strange benefit was that people would now directly feed her in their need. How the God would then use that power . . . that was a blessing or curse to contend with at a later time.

The ships’ maneuvers seemed excruciatingly slow to those watching from the shore, but by the many stories she’d been told over her life, Solenn knew the activity aboard was anything but passive.

“Hey, hey!” yelled the man with the spyglass. “There’re ripples in the water.”

That started a buzz louder than Melissa’s largest hive of bees. If Solenn had tried to speak, the words would’ve been lost in the noise. She could only turn to Aveyron, tears stinging her eyes.

Ripples in the water meant at least one kraken had emerged between the ships of the line and Nont. She’d never known a kraken to be this close to the city before. This couldn’t be a coincidence, so soon after their conference, but at the same time, what did it mean? The kraken had been so oblivious to human intricacies.

“Solenn.” Aveyron spoke loudly to be heard as he leaned close. He tugged at her arm, pulling her away. Away? She shook her head, gesturing to the sea. He expected her to leave, now? But again he pulled on her arm, his mouth a determined line. She trusted in his reasoning and followed, the anxious crowd parting to let them through.

“What?” she croaked once they’d retreated to an area of razed lots.

“Follow me,” he said, briskly walking upslope into Nont. With a frustrated huff, she joined him. The streets were packed with people who seemed to be headed to the shore, the Grand Pentad, or their neighborhood pentads. Those who weren’t going somewhere had simply stopped to stare out at the water. A bread baker with floured forearms and pained eyebrows stood on his stoop, studying the sea. Children crowded a balcony, their legs swaying through the rails, while a woman behind them watched with her apron skirt pulled up to hide her mouth.

After several minutes, as Aveyron occasionally paused to test the air, she realized he was following someone. Another of the kin, she supposed. They reached a flatter area along the slope, the château not far above.

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