Magic Banquet by A.E. Marling Read Free Book Online Page A

years.”
    “I want twelve children,” the empress said
with her mouth full. The air swirled from the beat of her wings.
“If they fly away, I’d sing them back.”
    “Got you,” Aja said to her finger. It had
swallowed a ball of pâté.
    Old Janny called to the djinn. “Hey, you,
Miss Glowcheeks. Would you fetch an old soul more ash from the Tree
of Life? I heard a woman can walk out of this Banquet twenty years
younger.”
    “I’ll bring you more ash as soon as
possible,” the djinn said without moving so much as an inch.
    “There’s a good girl.” Old Janny knelt in
front of her own plate, front legs folding first, then her hind
ones. She lifted her skirt hem and looked back at a white tuft of a
goat tail. “Course, won’t matter how young I am if that’s what I’m
wagging. Suppose it could be worse.”
    She glanced at Aja’s hands.
    Aja tried to pinch the fork between her
petrified fingers but could not move them even that much. The wrist
of that hand had trouble turning. Her utensil dropped to clatter on
the plate. Her idea wouldn’t work, and her two fingers might stay
hard as rock forever.
    Tears burned the corners of her eyes. They
felt like venom.
    She stared eye to eyes with her snakes.
Their pupils were a vertical slash.
    “Have to be human again,” Old Janny said,
reaching for her fork. “Have to take my medicine, even if it’s
basilisk.”
    Old Janny’s hand slipped past the utensil,
to lift her chalice instead. She threw back a swig.
    She jerked, and her body rippled. Her eyes
bulged. Cheeks puffed out, but she did not spit the drink.
    Swallowing, Old Janny aimed an eye into her
glass. “What was that?”
    The djinn floated to her side. “I should
have mentioned it. This is a symphonic tonic.”
    “Meaning?”
    “A symphony in a bottle. You can attune the
melody to your tastes by stirring the tonic and running a finger
over the glass.”
    Old Janny sniffed her glass. “Smells
expensive.”
    “The precise ingredients of the tonic cannot
be spoken of at a respectable dinner,” the djinn said. “Think of it
as distilled music.”
    “That sounds soar-over-clouds amazing,” the
empress said. She whirled around, her veil still dangling down her
neck. Her lips were painted with hieroglyphs. The henna designs of
a fox, a measuring scale, and water ripples all stood out dark on
the pink of her ear-to-ear smile.
    Aja bet servants pressed delicacies to those
same lips. The empress had people to powder her plump cheeks. Fit
her with that hanging-bird amulet with its silver wingtips. Every
day Empress Ryn wore jewelry bright enough to make the sun
jealous.
    If Aja had sparkled with the same jewels and
ate the same food, people would have to respect her. She wouldn’t
stoop to stealing such finery, but she had come to the Banquet. She
had done what she could. And now she was half snake.
    “Ryn, your veil.” The lionman gave a
rumbling hiss, then made a choking sound. He pawed at his
belly.
    “Oh no!” The empress fluttered to his side.
“What’s wrong?”
    “Didn’t chew my basilisk once.” His claws
pierced his robe and scratch his own skin. “Swallowed by
accident.”

Third Course, Part II:
    A Bellyful of Death
    Aja had to bow before the unveiled empress.
Asp fingers slid on the carpet, trying to slither toward her. They
stayed attached to Aja’s hands and couldn’t reach far enough.
    The lionman looked from the kneeling Aja to
the empress. He said, “You promised to keep your veil on.”
    “Aja is my friend,” the empress said. “How
could I hide who I am from my friends?”
    A friend, she had called Aja a friend. Aja
thought it could be true. It would be, by the end of the Banquet.
Aja was too wobbly and squishy to stand.
    “Is a snake girl you just met your friend?”
The lionman swiped a claw from Aja to Solin. “Is the hexer your
friend? Is—Ooof!”
    The empress wrapped a wing around him. “Your
tummy’s hurting?”
    “Like I gulped a bucket of ice.”
    Aja