Amity Nervy Lucid's Arc

Chapter 2 of 3

Amity sat in the equal chair until the courier returned. The blue-feathered stag came up the old road at dusk, all five pendants gone from its antlers. Five answers meant five delegations on the way. She stood, brushed dust from her coat, and walked back toward the manor with the stag at her shoulder. Then she stopped on the steps. She had set the table. She had not set the food. She ran through what she knew. The river clan would not touch cooked meat. The mountain line would not drink water that had stood in metal. The half-angel nobles would refuse anything a demon had handled. Demons would refuse anything blessed. Witches would test every cup for iron. One wrong dish at the table and the first guest to arrive hungry would walk out, and the others would follow the empty chair. She found Lily inside, sharpening a knife on the kitchen counter. Amity told her the count. Six days had become two. Lily set the knife down. "I cook for one mouth," she said. "Not five. You need separate hands and separate fires." Amity's hair went orange, then settled brown. She looked past Lily at the long stone building behind the manor, the one with the four ovens and the split prep counters she had bought the deed for and never opened. They worked through the night and the next day. Amity lit the four ovens in the communal kitchen and gave each station to one species' rules. Lily ran the angel side because she could and would not let anyone else. They kept the witch board clear of iron. They scrubbed the demon counter with salt water and no blessing. They roasted roots for the mountain line over wood the river clan would also accept. For drink, they drew spring water into clay jugs and set honey beside each one. No metal touched any cup. On the second evening Amity dragged a wooden stall out past the front steps and stacked it with the bread, the honey jars, the carrots, the beets, the small white turnips. Anyone coming up the road would see food before they saw a face. Beside the stall she laid out five serving pieces, one for each delegation. For the river clan she set down a flat stone plate carved with forest herbs, the marks of the plants they ate raw in spring. Lily watched from the doorway. "They'll know you studied them," she said. "Some will hate that more." Amity nodded. "Let them hate it full." The first horn sounded at the property line just after dark. Amity's hair went white, then gray, then held. The food was ready. The table was ready. She walked down to meet the first delegation with Lily one step behind her, and the gathering she had spent a winter planning began on the ground she had built for it.