Let Me Find Your Omega - Ashe Moon Page 0,27

didn’t get you one you already had,” I said as I prepared the ingredients for dinner.

“You didn’t,” he said kindly, choosing a container from the top shelf. “I’ve collected a lot of tea from my travels, but you picked one that I’ve been missing.”

“Were your travels for your divination?”

“At the end of my time at the academy, I had to complete a sort of pilgrimage. Trials, to test my abilities. I traveled around the country and performed as many readings as I could.”

Kole boiled water while I got the chops sizzling in the pan. I added sliced onions, crushed garlic, mushrooms, and a good helping of butter, and then closed my eyes to take in the aroma. I made all the adjustments by smell. I added a sprig of some herbs that Kole had growing nearby and nodded to myself as the whole thing started coming together.

When the water boiled, Kole filled a teapot with water and added a loose-leaf basket. I sniffed the air. “Silver claw,” I said. “A great white tea from the Ete region.”

“Have you been?” he asked, perching on a stool nearby.

“Nope,” I said. “I’ve never done much traveling outside of Mir. I’ve never really had a chance to, with Elise and the restaurant and everything. I travel through my cooking. You’d be amazed at how much you can learn about a place by just sampling ingredients and dishes. I let my nose take me to other places.”

He poured a cup of the sweet liquid and offered it to me. “What does this one tell you?”

“It’s a cold place,” I said. “Lots of rain. Probably forests. High mountains. They harvested this one a little early, so it’s sweeter than usual.”

Kole looked impressed. “In a way, you do the same thing I do. You can read the origin of ingredients with your sense of smell. And I can read the future.”

I laughed. “I think it’s probably different, right? I can guess these things because their history is written in scent. But the future isn’t written.”

“It is,” he said. “Though, yes, it can shift. But for the most part, it’s written, and if you have the ability, all you have to do is look at what’s there.”

“But being able to look is the hard part?”

“Looking is the easy part. Understanding is the hard part. I’m sure it’s the same for you. Just because you’re able to smell the ingredients doesn’t mean you’re automatically able to see what they could produce. That’s your true talent. And I think it’s quite obvious that you’re very good at it.”

I couldn’t hide my pleasure at hearing the compliment. It hit me harder than I might’ve expected because outside of my family, no one had said anything so nice about my abilities before. It was nice to have someone acknowledge me, and even nicer that it had come from Kole.

“Don’t say that until you’ve tasted the food,” I said, grinning. “It might be terrible.”

“I doubt it!” he said. “I’ve had your food before, remember? It was very delicious.”

The lamb finished searing along with the sides, and I created a quick vinaigrette out of what I found in Kole’s fridge and pantry.

“Where should we eat?” I asked, looking around—there was no dining table. Other than a work desk, a spread of sleeping furs on the floor, and a massive collection of plants, there wasn’t a whole lot in the loft.

“Follow me,” Kole said.

He led me up a set of stairs and opened a set of doors that led outside to a beautiful rooftop patio. Even more plants kept the area private and gave it a lush, garden-like feeling. There was a large wooden bathtub, a hammock, and a table with a few chairs. Kole lit some lamps and we sat down with our tea and dinner.

Kole took a bite, and I tried to play off my impatience for his verdict. He smiled and said, “It’s just as I said. It’s your talent.” He cut off another piece of lamb, swirled it around in the juices and sauce, and put it into his mouth. “This is the best thing I’ve eaten in a long time!”

I laughed. “Really? This? This is quick and dirty. I’m sorry, Kole. You must really be depriving yourself.”

“I don’t need much,” he said.

I remembered something Elise had mentioned to me earlier in the evening before I’d left for dinner. I’d shoved it to the back of my mind and had planned to leave it there, but now I was a little