8. Chapter 8
Chapter eight
We approached the dining hall, and my heart kicked into a higher gear at the anticipation of meeting my father. I lingered just outside the entryway, pleasantly underwhelmed by the space in front of me. After yesterday's throne room, I expected more opulence, more grandeur, more… Just more. This dining room, while spacious by normal standards, was actually fairly intimate. Only one unlit diamond chandelier hung from a much lower ceiling, and the brown wood flooring had an elegant maroon marbling effect throughout. A fire crackled merrily in the hearth that was set into the left wall, and a row of paintings hung above it, all portraits of men that I wagered were the past kings given their proud postures.
The long table in the center of the room, made of thick slabs of dark wood with various patterns carved into it, had chairs for about twelve people on each side, all vacant. The only occupied seat was at the head of the table, and after a tense moment, my father raised his head and looked over to us.
A smile swept over his face, and a thousand butterflies took flight in my stomach, all beating their wings at maximum speed as I rubbed my sweaty palms on my shorts.
“Raynella!” he boomed across the length of the table as he leapt to his feet. I had only seconds to take in his appearance before his long legs ate up the distance, and he enveloped me in a rib-crushing hug. His hair, so black that it appeared to absorb all the light in the room, cascaded down his back in thick waves nearly as long as my own. His beard, however, was trimmed short and neat. A diamond studded crown sat atop his head, though it was smaller and more subdued than the extravagant one from yesterday. A few scattered wrinkles around his mouth and eyes had me putting his age around forty-five, though he could actually be a hundred for all I knew.
He pulled back from the hug to look at me, that silly grin still plastered across his face, and I finally realized what I was seeing on his chest. What I initially thought to be an elaborately decorative shirt, was actually bare skin. Swirls of black ink covered his arms, shoulders and chest; similar to Dey’s tattoos yet far more expansive and intricate.
My attention moved away from the hypnotic designs to analyze his eyes. Identical to my own, they were an abnormally light shade of sky blue that almost glowed in the light, highlighting the faint golden ring around the pupil.
An intense need to say something filled me. This was my father. An actual living parent. I had played this scenario out in my head so many different times as I tried to fall asleep in the drafty orphanage, and every single thing I thought I might want to say vanished from my brain. I mean, how do you even act when the father that you never knew existed was also a king from a different world?
Any hope of saying something meaningful flew out the window when I instinctively blurted out, “Call me Rain.”
With his arms still clutching my shoulders, he laughed, a loud, boisterous sound that filled the room. I didn’t know what to make of it—I hadn’t thought my name was a joke—so I just gave him a small smile.
He pulled me back into another brief hug, then dragged me over to the table.
“Please sit, Raynella. We have much to talk about.” He gestured toward the chair to the right of his and Dey slid into the seat to the left. “And you may call me Verren,” he added.
“Thank goodness you speak English because I have so many questions,” I gushed. “Dey said earlier that I wasn’t even human which is ridiculous because—”
“Yes, yes, dear Raynella,” my father said pleasantly, cutting me off. He waved to the servants behind him, and they scurried away, hopefully to bring back breakfast. “All in due time. I have much to tell you as well, but first allow me to simply look upon my daughter. I had long thought we might never find you.”
“Sorry,” I replied, feeling like I had been apologizing a lot lately simply for being curious. “I haven’t been able to speak to anyone besides Dey, and he hasn’t really been super forthcoming.”
“Yes, I suppose that might be a bit irksome,” he agreed. “You see, there are very few in my court who speak your language. Only those hand selected by myself were imbued with the knowledge. It is very taxing on the caster so it was given only to those who needed to cross the rift.”
“What do you mean it's taxing on the caster?” I asked, feeling like I missed something important. “What's a caster?”
His brow furrowed, and he turned to Dey, addressing him in their foreign language. Whatever my father said made Dey drop his chin in submission.
“Hey,” I said, waving my hand at them. “It’s generally considered kinda rude to talk about a person right in front of them. Especially when they don’t know what you’re saying.”
My father shot Dey a pointed look that promised he wasn’t done with him, then turned back to me. “I had been informed that Dey spoke to you about our people and the magic we hold, but it seems there was much that was not discussed.”
“I mean, yeah, he told me a little about his emotion power. I’m guessing there’s more to share?”
“I would not even know where to begin, Raynella,” he replied, settling back into his chair. “Our world is so very different from yours. To answer your earlier question, there are many powerful mental casters who reside in the palace. Among them is one who has the ability to impart knowledge. He was sent through the rift first to study your language and customs. After he returned, we had him transfer the knowledge to a select few.”
“Wait,” I interjected, holding up a hand. “So he just dumped a bunch of information into your head? That seems, well, I’m not going to say impossible because I’ve learned that word means nothing here, but it sounds like it would hurt at least.”
“It is a unique experience,” Dey supplied. “Though painful is not quite accurate. Disorienting perhaps.”
The servants returned then, carrying heaping plates of food and carafes of pink liquid that they placed in front of us. I didn’t recognize most of the items on my plate, but I knew a pastry when I saw one. I tore into it with a ferocity that lacked any of the refinement the table was probably used to seeing. My hand was reaching for a piece of something I prayed was bacon, when I noticed both men watching me.
“Oh, shit,” I said, dropping my hands to my lap. “Is there some kind of protocol for eating here?”
“No, no,” my father said reassuringly. “Please, enjoy the food. We were not aware how hungry you were, or I would have had something sent to your room.”
“Yeah, it's weird to me too,” I replied, grabbing the bacon and shoving it in my mouth. It wasn’t pork, but it was crispy, salty heaven nonetheless. I picked up another slice, then said through a mouth full of food, “Normally, I don't get quite this ravenous from skipping dinner.”
“Ah,” my father mused, taking a sip of the pink liquid. “Our days here are longer than in your world by several hours. When you arrived yesterday it was shortly before the midday meal. You slept for nearly an entire day.”
“Oh,” I said, chewing on the bacon thoughtfully. I guess that made sense. There was no reason this planet would rotate at the same speed as Earth.
I took a sip of juice, savoring the sweet yet tart taste that reminded me of strawberry lemonade, then asked, “So, can you do that brain transfer thing that lets me speak your language?”
Even though I didn’t plan to stay long, I wasn’t opposed to the occasional future visit to see my father. Now that the shock was starting to fade, I found myself somewhat curious about everything.
Dey’s eyes brightened at my suggestion. “I think that would be a wonderful—”
“A wonderful idea, yes,” my father interjected. “Though we should wait a while first. It is a very invasive process usually only attempted with the strongest of Vitaeans. I would not want to risk anything happening to you, Raynella.”
I looked to Dey who frowned then shrugged and returned to his plate of food.
“Ok,” I said, wondering if there was more to it than that. “I don’t have a while, though. My sister’s gonna freak if I'm not home soon.”
“Your sister?” My father raised an eyebrow.
“Well, not my biological sister,” I clarified. “We grew up together in the orphanage and took care of each other, so she’s basically my sister. I kinda disappeared without saying anything.” I shot a pointed look at Dey who suddenly found his breakfast extremely interesting. “I would like to come back later so we can actually get to know each other. Maybe I can bring Jenn next time? Don’t worry, she’ll probably handle it better than I did.” I bit into a piece of yellow fruit and let myself dream a little bit about the future. If my father gave me even a few diamonds to take back to my world it would set Jenn and me up for life. No more Taco Hut. No more canned beans for dinner. God, no more worrying about making rent.
The wary looks on Dey and my father’s faces told me that my plans were about to come crashing down.
“As much as I would like to,” my father began delicately, “I cannot send you back just yet.”
“Excuse me?” I screeched, jumping up and knocking my chair over in the process. “What exactly do you mean by ‘just yet.’ When can I go home?”
“Soon,” he said, approaching me with a mixture of trepidation and fortitude.
“How soon is soon?” I gritted out.
He sighed. “It takes a great deal of power for a Walker to open a rift. Their magic is not like ours. Lorduin needs time to rest before he can open another one.”
“So find someone else,” I demanded, fighting off the rising panic within me.
“Unfortunately there are only two remaining Walkers, and Lorduin is the only one who resides here.”
I took in a deep inhale and smoothed back my braid. “Okay,” I said, more to myself than them. “This is okay. Jenn might freak out a little bit, but I’ll explain everything. It’ll be fine. Everything is fine.”
I would have killed for a Klonopin, but I at least managed to get my breathing relatively under control. “So when can I go home? Another day or two?” I looked at my father expectantly.
“I am afraid it will take longer than a day.”
I sucked in a sharp breath. “How much longer?”
He hesitated, then said, “An entire lunar cycle.”
A lunar cycle? What the hell was a lunar cycle? I sorted through my memory until my brain snagged on a werewolf movie Jenn made me watch years ago.
“I can’t go home for a fucking month?!”