CHAPTER SEVEN: An ode to the most beautiful

CHAPTER SEVEN: An ode to the most beautiful

The first official day of the festival would, to anyone else, have been a roaring success.

To Rae, it was adequate.

Sure, all of the apples sold. Customers had smiles on their faces. She even received compliments. But she’d spent the entire day so on edge looking for the secret judge – even though she knew how unlikely it was that they would turn up on the first day – that by the time the doors of the bistro were shut, Rae was deflated.

Plus, she admitted to herself now that she wasn’t busy, Garth’s reaction this morning had been bugging her all day. What had the clarity of the apple revealed to him?

Sighing, she took off her apron and got on with her closing tasks: washing Ibrik until he was squeaky clean, literally squeaking at her, the floors the same. Polishing the cutlery in blistering hot water and vinegar, putting away what little of the cabinet food was leftover, and now piping day two’s apples.

And so the days continued. Rae, constantly on the lookout, was exhausted by the days end of going through the motions on high alert. Yet still, in her back of her mind was the knowledge from the apple that promised the cook-off would end in her favour, though not – the thought continued to niggle at her – the way she wanted it to.

How could it end in any other way but victory?

If her story wasn’t going to be one of success, then surely that meant the theme of her life was failure, and that was unacceptable. There could be no other option, not that her mind could piece together. If she didn’t have a story worth sharing, well that was worse than having a life without a story at all!

The fourth days were the worst, where she had to spend extra time prepping the remaining apple casings. The caramelised honey was so delicate, peeling them out of each individual casing was a painstakingly slow task. But everything else ran smoothly, until Rae found herself finishing up the eleventh day of the festival with time on her hands for a change.

Finally, too exhausted to battle her mind, she accepted defeat and decided to go and see the dish that she knew was her main competition: Garth’s.

His restaurant was as packed as ever. Rae dithered by the door, bracing herself from the chill by stuffing her hands in the pockets of her jacket. Something curled into the palm of her hand.

Rae pulled it out, curious, only to see Garth’s token fluttering in her hand.

“How did you get there?”

The token curled into her palm again, snuggling.

“Alright, alright, I’m going in.”

Rae took a deep breath and marched up to the door.

“I have a token,” she told the door that was twice as tall and wide as her. Its knocker morphed into a smile before it threw itself open. The minute Rae was inside, she was accosted by the one deity she’d been hoping to avoid.

“Well, well. Miss Sunshine is back. Did you think Garth was going to hold a table for you every night this week? How presumptuous of you.” Nika bit, rising to her full height and looking disdainfully down her nose at Rae.

Rae was about to apologise before she took a breath and said the only thing that was going to garner any level of respect with the Arae in front of her.

“I’m happy to take a seat at the bar, if there’s one going, and order myself. If not, I’m happy to come back another night. There was no expiration date on the token.”

Nika sniffed. “And piss Garth off? I’d rather be hounded by neanderthals. Come with me.”

Turning on her heel, Nika led Rae to a small corner table in The Nook.

“You’ll obviously be having the chef special; Styx seafood chowder, slain and marinaded goats curry, and Garth’s theïkós for dessert – the crowning glory and our festival entry this century – An Ode to the Most Beautiful.” Nika informed her, as if she was rattling off specials to someone who hadn’t worked here just last week.

Rae had no idea what would constitute a theïkós, but she knew if it was anything like the rest, it would be exquisite.

“Sounds great.”

Nika smirked at her again. “Oh, just you wait and see.”

With that, Nika sauntered off leaving Rae sitting by herself.

Usually, she would bring a book with her, sit and read in silence – at least the creatures in books didn’t seem to mind her company. But, she’d forgotten her book in the post-cook-off haze; had to now settle for people watching without seeming intrusive. Having a cursed ones gaze on you, after all, could be … unnerving. It was the pale blue iris’ that did it.

No wonder Nika could turn tables so fast.

Luckily, Savvas came over at that moment with a large glass of golden wine and set it down on the table in front of Rae.

“Hello, Sunshine.”

“Savvas,” Rae smiled as she picked up the wine and saluted him. For some reason, the water nymph, with his neatly trimmed white and grey beard, didn’t annoy her by using a monika she hadn’t chosen. Instead, there was something melodic about the name on his lips – like the ebbing and flow of an ocean wave – that made Rae relax into her chair.

Well, that and the first sip of golden wine.

It was thick in flavour, though it held the consistency of any other wine. Hints of butter, honey, walnuts and apples crept through, until Rae finished savouring her sip and placed the glass back down on the table with a sigh.

“You like my homemade blend then.” Savaas, his arms folded, held a delighted smile on his long face that made his eyes twinkle.

“This is homemade?” Rae stared at the glass, then at Savvas in turn, shocked. “This could rival Dionysus’ acolytes.”

That had Savvas breaking out in a full-on grin before he bent down to conspiratorially whisper in Rae’s ear. “Perhaps, one day, I’ll tell you of my time in Dionysus’ vineyards.”

Before Rae could so much as utter a word of protest at having to wait to hear such a story, Savvas straightened, winked at her, and then made his way back to the galley bar.

Rae sat there, sipping her wine, watching the other patrons from her corner in The Nook. There was only one other couple with her in this section of the restaurant – they looked like two lovers that had been reunited after death had torn them apart. There were crystalised tears falling down the old woman’s cheeks, as her lover cupped her wrinkled cheeks and wiped them away.

The age you left the mortal realm was the age you remained down here. It used to be that death would rejuvenate a Soul’s form into youthfulness, but – surprisingly – it had been Queen Persephone that had insisted that rule be changed, according to the νέα reports. She said that there was beauty to be found in the age of all things, that those who resided in the Underworld should not forget it.

Watching the old lovers, Rae had to agree. There was something beautiful about it.

The young waiter, Tomas, interrupted Rae’s thoughts by presenting her with the Styx seafood chowder. He wavered slightly, as if his arms were not strong enough to hold up the plate the dish was balanced on, and for a moment Rae was convinced she was going to end up wearing the chowder as it began to wobble and slosh precariously. After what felt like forever, he managed to place it down – his arms shaking as he held two other dishes to deliver to another table – with only a splash on the outside rim.

Rae wasn’t going to complain about that. Instead she said, “Still enjoying working here?”

“Oh, uh, yes. It’s just- it’s a lot to learn. I don’t think Nika is very happy with me.” Tomas winced as he said her name.

“I don’t think she’s ever very happy with anyone.”

Tomas let out a nervous chuckle. “No, I suppose you’re right.”

“Though don’t let her catch you agreeing with me,” Rae replied, deadpan.

Tomas gave her another nervous chuckle at that, out of politeness more than anything Rae suspected, and then left her with some mumbled reasoning that he needed to get the other dishes to their guests.

Rae nodded and turned to the chowder in front of her.

The dish was as delicious as she remembered.

When her chowder was finished, Rae turned her attention to other guests in the establishment, not wanting to intrude further on the lovers in their corner. From her table, she could also see the galley bar clearly, and watched Savvas talk to a middle-aged male Soul who was perched on a bar stool across from him. They appeared to be friends, Savvas laughing good-naturedly at a joke the male Soul had said.

Wherever he had hailed from in the mortal lands must have been hot, because even as a shade of his lookalike human form, he was still darker than most other patrons in the bar. Though race was less-so a factor when you were dead in these parts. Much more prejudice was put on what type of deity you were.

Nika chose that moment to interrupt Rae’s dark thoughts with the goat curry.

“You know, I can’t think why Garth calls you sunshine with a scowl like that.”

“Well,” Rae said, picking up the spoon ready to dive in, “how often do you get told to smile for the morons hounding you?!”

Nika gave her a hard stare and then laughed. Actually laughed. It was a shrill shriek that had Rae tensing in place.

“Point conceded, Sunshine. Enjoy.”

Pleasantly surprised with herself, Rae let her shoulders relax as the warmth of the curry and something else invaded her insides. She continued to watch the patrons come and go, all with smiles on their faces that said they were leaving with full bellies and happy with themselves.

Of course, that warmth in her belly turned to anticipation when it was not Nika, but Garth, that bought out the final dish for her to try.

“I wanted to see what you thought of my festival entry yourself,” he said, as he placed not one but twoplates in front of her. One was a clean white plate that held a single, bright green apple. The other, Rae discovered as Garth lifted the lid, was a small black cauldron, the size of a kylix.

“What do I do with it?”

Garth pointed to the folded piece of paper that sat in front of the apple.

Rae picked it up, flicked it open and began to read.

An Ode to the Most Beautiful: Queen Persephone

Pomegranate: Latin translation: an apple with many seeds

Dip this apple in the cauldron, as our Queen dipped her toe into the Underworld, and fall in love with our world all over again.

Raising an eyebrow, Rae took the apple by its stalk and dipped it in the miniature cauldron. A gasp fell from her lips as she pulled it back out again.

The apple was a stunning, gleaming, ruby red.

“How did you...?”

“Keep going,” Garth told her, his chin now propped up on his palm, his elbow on the table as he watched her.

Rae took the sharp knife that accompanied the dessert and went to slice a section of the apple. The skin of it was hot to the touch, so she balanced her nails delicately against it as the knife cut through the apple like butter, smoke beginning to curl out of the apple in a wonderful show of culinary skill, and ….

Pomegranate seeds spilt out.

Taking the spoon, Rae scooped up a collection of them and brought them to her lips. Flavour exploded on her tongue. The darkest compote – probably the one she had seen Garth’s pastry chef perfecting when she’d been in the kitchen – held levels and depths of taste that made it feel like Rae was travelling down into the Underworld for the first time. Each pomegranate seed was a step further down into the abyss, but as light as a woman’s – Persephone’s – footsteps. It was the perfect combination of heavy and sweet, the smokiness of whatever Garth had trapped inside the apple before you cut it releasing this velvet-like sauce that complimented both the compote and the seeds, the flesh of the apple, and the coating on the skin from the cauldron.

It was … a masterpiece.

“What is the sauce?” Rae asked, a small frown between her eyebrows as she tried to place it.

“Think of it as dried ice meets goats milk that was creamed.”

“Goats milk that was creamed?” Rae said slowly, realisation dawning on her as she sat back in her chair and folded her arms. “I wonder where you got that idea from.”

“I confess,” Garth braced his arms on the table and leaned forward in a whisper, “you gave me the inspiration for that. We changed the sauce recipe on day two of the festival as a result. Your take for this century’s cook-off was excellent. I had one of the waitresses grab us a collection of your apples and bring them back here for us to sample the day your dish came out. What you did with that lotus leaf was genius. And whatever was in that vial … I don’t know what it is or how you got it … but it’s what told me to make this version of the sauce.” He nodded at the sauce still spooling out of Rae’s apple. “So, I have to thank you for that. In fact, I’d like to thank you by offering you the position of sous chef here, permanently.”

He looked at her like the offer was genuine. The audacity of the agathodaemon!

“You stole part of my idea, and now you want to offer me a permanent job?!”

“I didn’t steal. I  was inspired.”

“And you think that will make me want to work for you?”

“Well, you can’t want to work for old, gnarled Geras for the rest of your immortality. I thought you wanted the job when you agreed to the trial run the other night.”

“You’re unbelievable. You didn’t even tell me it was a job trial!”

Garth frowned. “I don’t understand why you’re getting upset. Ok, so I didn’t tell you it was a trial run. You still did great work, though. You inspired me to do great work. And now I’m offering you a job where we could do great work together. No one would even come close to touching us in the cook-off if we were on the same team. I know you’re not usually one to look for help, hell even teamwork, but cutting off that pretty nose of yours just to spite your face seems awfully silly, Sunshine.”

“STOP calling me that!”

Now people were looking.

Garth cocked his head at her. “I still don’t understand why you’re upset.”

Rae nudged her chair back. “No, well, Mr-wins-this-every-century, you wouldn’t. Excuse me.”

She rose from her chair and walked towards the bathroom, barely managing to keep one foot in front of the other.