Jessie informed me that, per Annie’s orders, I wasn’t to travel for at least a week. I asked why, but Jessie just shrugged off the question with a vague statement about Annie knowing her business. I discovered a few things that week. The first thing I discovered was that Jessie lived in some kind of mansion. The place was huge, with a seemingly endless number of rooms that ranged from a full-blown, mahogany-paneled study to a huge library that stretched three stories into the air and came equipped with stairs and rolling ladders. The second thing I discovered was that we weren’t the only people there. The first night that I was conscious and mobile, she showed me down to a formal dining room.
“Dinner is served promptly at six, don’t be late,” she warned.
“Why does that matter?” I asked in genuine confusion.
She smiled and shook her head. “Just trust me on this.”
So, promptly at six, I presented myself to the dining room in my battered jeans, an enormous t-shirt Jessie dug up for me somewhere, and a pair of pink bunny slippers I’d found left in my room. It seemed Jessie was the only one allowed to clomp around in a pair of boots. Jessie was seated at one end of a ridiculously long table. Out of practicality, I expected, there was another setting on the table next to hers. I walked over and sat, cautiously eyeing an array of forks and spoons of which I had only the most theoretical knowledge. There was not, however, any sign of food.
“Nice table,” I muttered.
“Should be for what it cost,” she said.
A clock tolled six and a man entered the room. He was made up of equal parts muscle and beard. Despite the chef’s coat, I had zero trouble imagining him decked out in Viking gear and pillaging some sleepy English town. A small army of servers poured into the room from behind him to set out platter after platter of food. It was more food than ten people could possibly have eaten after a two-day fast. If the sheer quantity of food was unusual, it didn’t show on Jessie’s face. She beamed as she looked over the food and gave a nod to the man I had dubbed The Iron Viking.
“A brilliant feast, as always, Sven,” she announced.
He gave her a smile composed of teeth as white as the polar ice caps, frowned threateningly at me, and then vanished back into the kitchen. I gave Jessie a sidelong glance. She was cheerfully piling food onto her plate and didn’t even look my way when she addressed my unspoken question.
“Yes,” she said. “I’ve got money.”
“Family money,” I guessed.
“Nope. I earned it, the hard way.”
“You tricked other people into doing the work and took the credit?”
She smirked at that. “Lot of problems in the world that need solving. I solve some of them, for an outrageous fee and the guarantee of my silence.”
“What kind of problems?”
“All kinds,” she said in a tone that suggested I find some other topic.
I took a few moments to pile some food onto my own plate. I bore Annie’s advice in mind and favored red meat, as well as some kind of potatoes drenched in cheese and topped with crumbled bacon. I shied away from things I couldn’t identify, which meant I didn’t touch most of the dishes on display.
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“What’s the deal with the Iron Viking?” I asked.
She had a forkful of something that might have started life out as a fish halfway to her mouth when I asked. The fork stopped in mid-air, and she barked out a laugh.
“Oh my god, that’s too good,” she said, before screaming, “Sven!”
The huge man came back into the dining room. He started to glower at me before he saw the heroic portions on my plate. He considered the plate before he gave me a little bow. He turned his attention to Jessie.
“Sven, Jericho here has finally come up with a title worthy of you.”
“Oh?” He asked.
“The Iron Viking,” she said.
The big man’s eyebrows drew together for a moment as he considered this new title. Then, he gave me another little bow.
“I like it,” he said.
I spent the rest of the meal concentrating on food, which was easy because my stomach felt like a bottomless vortex of need. When I finally came up for air, Jesse was sipping on a beer. It was foreign and the label was printed in a language I didn’t recognize. Sven came back out, and Jessie looked at him in surprise.
“Sven?” She asked.
He set a new platter on the table and lifted the lid. On the platter sat two small bowls. Jessie’s eyes lit up.
“Oh my God, you made rommegrot!”
Jessie carelessly shoved her plate out of the way. I opted to gently place my plate to one side. Sven placed a bowl in front of each of us. He watched me as I regarded the unfamiliar dish. It was thick, like porridge, and I could smell the cinnamon sprinkled on top. There was no getting out of it. I picked up what I hoped was the right spoon and dipped it into the thick mixture. I’d expected something bland, but it was rich and sweet. Surprise and delight must have shown on my face because I got one of Sven’s polar ice cap smiles. He disappeared back into the Kingdom of Kitchen, while Jessie and I ate the treat.
“Sven must like you,” she said. “He only makes this on special occasions. He won’t even take a bribe to make it on demand.”
“It’s delicious.”
Between bites, Jessie seemed to study me. I wasn’t sure what she was expecting to find. My life wasn’t terribly complicated. It was strange but straightforward. I liked to think that more or less summed me up as a person. After she finished her rommegrot, Jessie leaned back in her chair and took a contemplative sip of her beer.
“So, young Jericho, what’s your next step? Home?”
I shook my head. “I can’t go home yet. I need to find someone.”
She pointed the beer bottle at me. “The last time you found someone, it didn’t turn out so well for you. Plus, I don’t owe Brace any more favors. You sure that’s the right move?”
I thought about it for a while. “I don’t know if it’s the right move, but I’m pretty sure something truly awful is going to happen if I don’t.”
She mulled that over as I finished my rommegrot. I wished there was more, but I wasn’t sure if it would be polite to ask or not. I hadn’t been offered beer, so I drank my water and waited.
“Who are you looking for?” Jessie asked.
“The Corrupted Oracle,” I said. “Don’t suppose you know where to find that person?”
She shook her head. “No, not specifically, but I could find out. That’s to say, I could if I hated you. He’s not someone you want to meet.”
I nodded. “Yeah, I kind of figured that. Corrupted Oracle isn’t really a warm and friendly kind of name.”
“Why do you want to see him? I mean, there must be other people who know whatever it is you want to know.”
“Probably. I just don’t know who those people are or where to find them. The trail leads to him, so that’s where I’m going.”
Genuine concern crossed her face at that. Jessie clearly didn’t like what she was hearing. “Nothing can be that important. I’m telling you, Jericho, the Corrupted Oracle is, he’s wrong. He’s wrong in ways you can’t even imagine. What the Raven’s Council did to your body, he’d do to your mind just because he could or because you happened to be standing there.”
The enormous quantities of food I’d just eaten threatened to come back up. I fought down the gag reflex and did my best to banish images of Victoria Ambrosia from my mind. I mostly succeeded. The prospect of facing something that awful did not make my soul swell with joy. The truth was that I was out of my depth. I knew it, too, but what else was there to do? Run home to Gran and pretend nothing was going on? Let some old, blood-hungry thing rise again? I couldn’t do that, even if I wanted to do it. I wasn’t made that way. I shook my head.
“It doesn’t matter. I have to do it.”
“Why, for God’s sake?
So, I told her. She stared at me for a long time, her expression unreadable. Then, she stood up and looked around the dining room, maybe surveying its opulence, maybe searching for words, maybe just avoiding looking at me. She pushed her hands into the pockets of her jeans and bowed her head. When she looked up again, she wore a tired, resigned expression.
“I’ll make a call,” she said.