Beyond Corista by Robert Elmer

Author:Robert Elmer
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: ebook
Publisher: Zondervan

16

You sure you’re ready?” Iakk asked Oriannon. “I have a choice?”

If this was why Jesmet had brought them here, perhaps she was ready. But suddenly Oriannon felt weak at the knees, and her stomach turned at the thought of explaining herself to a room full of scribes looking for their evening amusement. Even so, she nodded and followed Iakk across the commons, waving for Wist and Margus to keep up.

“I smell food.” Margus sniffed as they approached a tall set of double doors. Oriannon smelled it too, and though she couldn’t quite identify the scents, her stomach was growling. Yes, it smelled good. But as they began to follow other scribes through the slowly opening doors, a solemn young man stepped up with his hand raised.

“I’m sorry,” he told them, blocking the way. “The invitation is only for Oriannon Hightower to address the gathering.”

“What?” Oriannon protested. “You mean my friends can’t come inside?”

“I regret any inconvenience.”

At the moment Oriannon doubted his regrets very much, and she would have told him so if Margus hadn’t spoken up.

“No big deal, Ori,” he told her as he backed away. “We’ll just take a walk. Wrap something up in a napkin for me, huh?”

“No!” Oriannon looked for a little help from Iakk, but he looked just as surprised. “I mean, if they can’t go, I won’t either. This is just … rude!”

She turned to face her friends, but Wist shook her head, and Margus turned her right back toward the door.

“It’s really not being a problem, Ori,” Wist told her. “Go ahead. We’ll be waiting outside. We’re not wanting to be sitting through some stuffy banquet anyway.”

Except perhaps for the food. Oriannon tried to protest one more time, but they would have none of it. So with a sigh, she nodded helplessly and then stepped with Iakk into the grandly furnished banquet hall where she was greeted by a hundred rich and wonderful scents.

Lush maroon and violet tapestries draped the walls behind tables decked with tureens of steaming soup, crafted titanium pots for vupp and clemsonroot tea, finely sculpted chocolate treb bears in various poses, and trays overflowing with three or four varieties of starfruit, sliced cheeses, sweet pastries, aploncakes, canapés, and open-faced sandwiches of every description.

The scribes sat behind long, decorated tables arranged in seven rows. They were dressed in their finest white and gold robes, and they leaned back in their carved ironwood chairs. Between conversations, they drank a deep amber liquid from crystal flutes, while several young scribes cruised around the gathering serving each guest from lev-trays laden with even more finger food.

“These are all scribes?” Oriannon wondered aloud, and Iakk nodded his head. In the far corner a four-piece band tuned up, preparing to play. Iakk pulled Oriannon past the buzzing crowd to a semi-circular head table where Cirrus Main and six others sat behind plates piled high with aromatic curried meya plant quiche ringed with slices of blue and orange starfruit. At length Cirrus looked up from his food and noticed Oriannon standing there, looking awkward.

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