“Archie…Archie…”

Archie rolled over and pulled the blankets up to his ears.

“Hey…wake…hey…Archie.”

Something shook Archie’s foot.

“Archie, wake up,” Nori whispered.

“Go away,” he groaned. It was still dark. “We agreed to meet at nine.”

“Things changed. Get up.”

The bed above Archie creaked. “Nori?” Oliver slurred, sleep still heavy on his lips. “Did you spend the night?”

Nori yanked on Oliver’s toes, making him yelp.

“Come on, Archie.”

“Uuuugh. Let me get dressed. Pomona’s kitchen?”

“No, the flower one.”

Archie nodded and waved her away. He slunk out of bed and had to stand up right next to the window to have enough light to button his jacket. He dragged his feet up the stairs and into the kitchen known for the dried flowers hanging from its racks.

Nori operated three separate stoves and had already occupied twenty feet of counter space.

“How long have you been up?” Archie asked.

Nori’s quick words matched the pace of her cooking. “At least an hour. I waited until sunrise to get you.”

“I thought we were meeting at nine.” Archie peered into a pot of rice before being pushed aside by Nori.

She didn’t have time to look at him, too busy pouring this sauce into that container and stirring that pan—all with one hand as her other hand flipped raw chicken over in a plate of flour and bread crumbs.

“The plan changed.”

“Are we not doing the birthday party anymore? For uh…” Archie snapped his fingers as he tried to remember. “For uh…”

“Chip Sampson. You need to remember this, Archie.”

“Right, Chip Sampson. Turning eleven. Got it. So we’re still doing his party?”

“Yes. But the guest list has gone from twelve to twenty six.”

It was like a cold splash of water hit Archie’s face.

“What?!”

“Mindy let me know last night when she got back from Cafe Julienne.” Nori kneaded dough with one hand while washing the other in the sink. “The Sampsons were there for an early celebration and wanted her to pass along the message. Apparently the people of Caviar Court really wanted to try our cooking.”

Archie snorted in disbelief. The people of Caviar Court were the richest in all of United Ambrosia. They had Blue Jackets as personal Chefs. Archie and Nori would have never landed the opportunity if it weren’t for Julienne’s connections.

“Why are they so excited about us?”

Nori dried off her hands and breathed deeply. Archie figured it was her first slow breath of the day. “Harper Kent Catering.”

“What?”

“It’s how I positioned our service. No one in the Crown—let alone Caviar Court—is going to pay for a couple of Orange Jackets to cook for them. But getting catered by a couple of upcoming prodigies from legacy names? That’s worth some social capital. And that’s the only capital these people still need.”

Nori started chopping a pile of bell pepper and tomatoes with a speed Archie could hardly comprehend. They often debated who was the better cook, but there was no doubt that Nori was twice as capable with a knife. She cut faster than he could despite still giving him a portion of her attention.

“You…” Archie blinked. “You used my name? Without asking?”

The knife stopped. “Well, yeah. Isn’t that what you want? To establish a reputation?”

Establish.

“Restore,” he corrected. “Restore a reputation.”

“Sorry.”

“My last name is not yours to use.”

Nori swallowed her words and returned to chopping.

Archie looked around the kitchen. There were crabs and fish and shrimp and ramen noodles and oysters. “My name didn’t matter though, did it?” he asked.

The cutting stopped again. For as much as Nori wanted to power through their prep work, she knew she was treading sensitive waters. She brushed the sweat from her brow with her forearm.

“They were more excited about being served by a Harper, yes. It’s hard for them to find authentic Urokan food. If you could even call it authentic when it’s made with all of this stuff here.”

She motioned around at the food that filled the kitchen.

“And…where did all of this come from?” Archie asked.

Nori sucked in her bottom lip.

“Nori? Is this all from the Academy?”

She took a deep breath.

“Nori. This is stealing.”

She slapped the knife down on the cutting board. “Look. I stocked the pantries and freezers, right? I know what we have too much of. It’ll be fine. And we’re going to get paid double since they increased the guest list.”

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Archie’s moral reservations waned with the promise of payment. “How much…”

“Five gold.”

Archie’s morality stepped to the side. They had done three catering jobs in the Roots and barely came away with five gold. Now they could double it in a single day?

“We’re gonna make five gold?!”

“Ten. Five was the original payment.”

“Ten?!” Archie’s morality decided to take a long sabbatical. “Ten?!”

“Yes. So get started! Finish that dough,” she commanded. “Don’t use any essence on that one. That’s the bread. Then you can get started on another for pasta. Use your essence on that. But not too much. You need to save yours.”

“Why?”

Nori took a handful of salt, pouring half into a sauce and the other into a pot of water. “They wanted authentic Urokan food…and they wanted entertainment. So…” She licked her lips and grinned. “I’m the cook, you’re the clown.”

She giggled and flicked the rest of the salt at him. She was finally back to teasing Archie instead of avoiding him. Nature was healing.

“Entertainment? What am I supposed to do?”

Nori snapped her fingers repeatedly and pointed her knife at the dough, prompting Archie to action. “Make blueberries bounce or whatever. Extend a noodle. Duplicate some stuff. I don’t know.”

Archie blinked, still feeling some sleep behind his eyes. Groggy and agitated, he put his frustration into the dough.

“Also, make sure you act like we’ve been doing this for a while,” Nori said as she started skewering the vegetables. “I may have exaggerated our experience.”

“Nori.” Archie lifted his hands from the dough. “Nori. This is crazy. This is Caviar Court! They’ll sniff us out. We don’t know enough magic to entertain them. We’re not ready for this!”

Nori stabbed the vegetables more aggressively. “It pays ten gold.” She walked off to the pantry, knowing Archie couldn’t argue.

He put his knuckles back into the dough.

They worked through lunch, Nori shooing away anyone that tried to share the kitchen with them. Once everything was as prepared as it could be, they loaded it up in a cart and made their way across the Crown. But that meant passing the keep.

“Well, well, well, what’d’we have here?” Stop Him walked away from the gate, stopping the cart with the butt of his spear.

“We have business in Caviar Court,” Nori answered.

“Mmm, is that right?” Stop Him leaned his face in toward Archie. “You didn’t bring anything for me?”

Nori looked between the two. “Archie, do you know him?”

“It’s…” Archie sighed. He needed to end the conversation before Nori’s bullheadedness caused any problems. “No, I didn’t bring anything for you. I’m sorry.”

“Hm…”

“But! I’ll bring you something next time, okay?” Archie smiled, even if the guard didn’t deserve it. “We’re just in a bit of a rush.”

“Hm. Alright.” Stop Him pulled his spear away from the cart. “Don’t forget.”

“Okay, okay, here he comes,” Mrs. Sampson warned the party guests.

Along the northern ridge of the Crown, a walled off neighborhood known as Caviar Court hosted most of the city’s wealthy. It was one of the few places in the city that was spacious enough to allow a lawn, and no one’s compared to the Sampsons.

The magnificent home boasted three wide stories and a narrower set of three more. While the ornate stone rose like a tower for another three floors, the rest of the third floor was dedicated to a raised terrace lawn and garden that overlooked the rest of the scenic neighborhood.

The guests gathered around the terrace, the adults outnumbering the children two to one. Archie and Nori had set up in the outdoor kitchen—a little slice of stone flooring, granite countertops, and a stove and oven setup that belonged in the finest of restaurants, not a private home.

Nori and Archie started to move away from the kitchen to join the rest of the group, but Mrs. Sampson shooed them back.

“No no! You should be cooking when he arrives. He’ll love it. Can you like, make the flame shoot into the sky or something?”

The busybody didn’t wait for an answer, shuffling back into the crowd to prepare.

Archie looked at Nori with a sly smile. “Can you make the flame do that?”

Nori shook her head and laughed.

“I think we have a little cinnamon powder. Toss that in the fire when he gets here,” he said. “And if my dad asks, I don’t do that anymore.”

Nori rummaged through their jars of spices and found a cinnamon stick. She smashed it with her fist in a hurry.

And then it was time.

“Surpriiiiiiiiiise!” the group yelled.

Chip Sampson, freshly eleven and having enjoyed a breakfast out on the town with his father, screamed in delight at the surprise party. Like many of the guests, Chip’s love of eating was immediately apparent from his size.

But even amongst the overweight and obese, Chip and two other adults stood out, their bodies warped into big blocks with shoulders that extended far above their heads.

Archie swallowed hard.

Gluttons.

He hadn’t encountered any since the revelation of his heritage. Just being around them made him dizzy.

He hadn’t even known that a child could be a Glutton. Chip’s shoulders and hips were larger than any of the normal adults, and his thighs spilled over his knees.

The Gluttonous boy held his balled up porky hands beneath his double chin in a delightful shock.

“And look!” Mrs. Sampson held her arms out toward the outdoor kitchen. The crowd split, letting Chip see Archie and Nori. “Chefs from the Academy of Ambrosia!”

Nori heard her cue, throwing a handful of crushed cinnamon powder into the open flame.

In his urgency, Archie had failed to tell her to throw only a pinch.

A flash of flame leapt up ten feet into the sky, nearly taking Nori with it. But the stunt paid off. Chip fell to his knees, threw his hands into the air, and let out a guttural cheer. The crowd laughed and clapped.

With great effort, Chip rose and charged through the crowd to the kitchen.

“What have you got?” he asked, already reaching blindly over the counter. His hands found the crab legs—a lovely arrangement by Nori, legs sticking out of a wide vase like a bouquet.

But Chip didn’t care for loveliness. He snatched a leg and snapped it like a twig. He didn’t bother to pick the meat out, just putting the leg to his lips and sucking in meat and shell fragments alike.

“Butter!” he demanded.

Archie pushed it across the countertop, careful not to put his fingers out in case the little monster got toothy.

Mrs. Sampson hovered over. “Oh, my Chip, so impatient!” She looked at Archie as she rubbed her hand through Chip’s hair. “He wants to be a Chef, you know,” she said with the misplaced pride of someone who’s child had accomplished their goal already. “Are these ready to go out?”

She took the vase of crab legs without an answer, taking it to a glass table in the yard and leaving Nori with a frown.

She had poured her heart and soul into the food. Nori didn’t care to make seafood, but it was still her greatest strength, and Mrs. Sampson and her guests were dying for authentic Urokan food. But while the women gushed over the food, the men started to pay more and more attention to Nori. Occasionally, the wind would catch the guests’ conversations and whisk them over to Archie and Nori, carrying words like “exotic” and “rare beauty.” With each passing minute, Nori grew more and more uncomfortable.

For the feast, Nori prepared the majority of the dishes as bouquets, each in their own vase. For appetizers, four vases of crab legs, one having already been tucked under Chip’s arm. For the main courses, four vases each of shrimp skewers and salmon skewers. Nori placed the vases on platters, flat pieces of sushi circling the arrangements like fallen petals.

And finally, the talk of the party, two vases of fried octopus—the Head Chefs of the Academy would spend the next few weeks wondering what happened to their valuable supply of octopus.

And beneath each vase, sticking out of one side like a calling card, a single folded piece of nori.

Along with these arrangements, Nori set out several loaves of brioche bread and filled an entire cauldron with lobster bisque. For drinks, she prepared lemonade for the children, and Mrs. Sampson provided white wine for the adults.

A vial of moondrop wine made its way around the party. Even the birthday boy got a little sip to ease the pressure on his bones.

Archie was blown away by Nori, conceding defeat to both her culinary skills as well as her industrialness.

But even with Nori’s colossal effort, half of the battle had yet to be fought.

It was time for the entertainment.