Wicked As You Wish (A Hundred Names for Magic #1) - Rin Chupeco Page 0,98
“Didn’t stand a chance. If you’ll excuse me, milords and miladies. And mi’enbys.”
“Before anything, I’d like some food and a good bath,” Ken decided. “Remind me to ask the innkeeper for something for the horses.”
Ikpe was far more modernized than Tintagel Castle. The inn had both communal and private baths, and an adjoining restaurant. Posters of Uyai Archibong Ukeme, Miss Avalon 2003 and also Miss Universe of that same year, lined one of the walls. Some computers had been set up inside one room, though Tala doubted the internet worked. Alex doubled with Ken, West with Cole, and Zoe, Tala, and Loki took the largest room. “Can’t the firebird stay with the horses tonight?” Ken asked. “Not really sure I can sleep with all the snoring that’s sure to go on.” The firebird responded with an affronted hiss.
The tavern was large enough to accommodate a few dozen people, though there were only three other patrons at the moment. The group occupied one long table at the corner of the inn, chosen because it hid them from immediate view. The innkeeper’s wife was named Ayanti, a handsome woman with her hair bound in a yellow wrap. She served them mouthwatering dishes: minced meat cooked with eggs and milk, yellow rice, a soft powder-like bread, and another thick stew made of vegetables, crayfish, and some kind of snail.
“The meals come with rejuvenating potions,” Ayanti explained. “I am required by Avalon law to tell you of this. If you do not wish for spells in your cuisine, I have also made some without magic.”
“No complaints here,” Ken said. “That’s my favorite seasoning. I love a good home-cooked spelltech.”
“It might not work on me,” Tala confessed. “I’m a Makiling.”
“I hope it nourishes you all the same. Guests are rare these days, but with tonight’s festival, I wanted to celebrate. Good food is good healing,” the woman admitted with a laugh. “It takes many hours to create the perfect ekwang.”
“This is delicious, ma’am,” Alex said sincerely, helping himself to seconds of the ekwang. “Thank you.”
Ayanti beamed. “It’s good to hear praise from one not of Ikpe after so long. People used to come far and wide for my cooking.” Sadly, she eyed the empty tables. “But we are very lucky. The priestess protected us from the frost, almost single-handedly.”
“Is your tower part of the defense?” Zoe asked her, glancing out the window, where it lay outlined against the growing dusk, still visible despite the constant flurry of snow.
“Been standing hundreds of years, milady. Maybe even long before this village came about. At least three hundred years old. It may not look like much, but we’re quite proud of our strange little tower. Our strongest defense it is, steeped deeply in charms dating back centuries. It’s that and our stones that’ve helped keep the nightwalkers out.”
Ken and Zoe glanced quickly at each other. “Would it be possible,” Ken began glibly, “to take a closer look ourselves? I’m a history scholar, and a tower like this one isn’t something I get the chance to study often.”
Zoe coughed.
“The tower’s closed to outsiders, milord,” Ayanti said regretfully. “Favorite grounds for some of our wayward boys, sometimes. Always painting the walls and stirring up trouble. We try to discourage that sort of idleness. Isolated in the frost, sometimes they get restless.”
“That’s a shame,” Ken said mildly. “And what about the stone by the entrance to your village?”
“It contains the earth and the power of our ancestors, preventing malicious spells from being cast.”
“Like the ones the ICE agents used,” West remembered. “The one inside that van.”
“ICE agents?” The woman looked horrified. “There are ICE agents here?”
“No,” Zoe said hastily, shooting West a warning look. “They were searching for the prince, and we wound up fighting them back in America.”
“Our priestess tells us that we have been closed to the rest of the world for many years now. It breaks my heart to hear that such terrible policies have not changed.”
“They don’t so much as turn a hair when it’s nightwalkers outside their village, but ICE agents make them nervous,” Ken murmured. Aloud, he said, “Please send both the bride and groom our congratulations.”
“Ah, but we won’t be knowing the groom’s name just yet. The lucky man’s to be selected tomorrow.”
“You mean the bride doesn’t even know who she’s marrying?”
“It’s not our usual wedding custom, to be sure. But it’s the priestess’s granddaughter getting married, so different rules apply. She has a doom, you see.”