Firebolt

Chapter 8

THE TABLES INSIDE the cafeteria had big fluffy pillows lined up on either side instead of chairs. Each table had a square shaped sky lantern on top that was lit from the inside and glowed with a majestic light. Chinese balloon lanterns floated from the ceiling, illuminating the room. We went quickly through the buffet line at the back. Fresh fruit, milk, root beer, and other major soda brands, with chicken, fish, beef, and pork served with steamed vegetables and rice made my choice difficult. They even had a pudding section, which had a huge sign in front hanging from a golden chain that read CLOSED.

Becky pulled up her nose and made an unpleasant sound while she eyed the food.

I didn't care what we ate; I was starving.

"Good evening ladies," Chef said. His beard had a red-brown shimmer underneath the bright lights that gleamed over the buffet line.

"You've out-done yourself tonight," Sammy praised as she grabbed a plate and a tray. She poured orange juice into her glass.

"It's Friday. I want junk food," Becky whined, complaining like a two-year-old.

"Then answer my riddle, and you can choose whatever your little heart desires," Chef countered.

"Fine, I'll see what the stupid riddle says," Becky mumbled the last part.

I laughed, remembering how much I also hated riddles. I would give up this meal, though, if it meant hearing one come from Dad's lips again.

Sammy and I sat at the nearest table with our trays. Becky went over to look at the riddle that was posted on the board in the corner of the cafeteria.

She wrote it down on a napkin and walked back to our table.

"Anyone have it yet?" Sammy asked, curious.

She raised the corner of her upper lip and read the riddle out loud. "I never was, am always to be. No one ever saw me, nor ever will, and yet I am the confidence of all, to live and breathe on this terrestrial ball. What am I?"

"Come again?" Sammy asked, clearly confused.

"That's my point, guess we're going to have cooked meals for the next two months," she said, and chucked the napkin aside.

"Anybody got the riddle's answer yet?" Lucian's voice made me jump as he walked up to us.

He apologized for the scare, giving me one of his super smiles, and plopped onto the empty pillow next to me.

"What are you still doing here?" Becky's mood changed in a flash.

"My dad had to leave this afternoon for the meeting in Areeth. He'll swing by tomorrow to come and fetch me."

"Meetings of the Royal Council," Sammy whispered.

Becky recited the riddle to him and he frowned.

"C'mon Lucian, you're good at this crap."

"Sorry Becky, the riddle sounds like French," he said, and gave a sexy chuckle. A million goose bumps broke out across my skin. Weird. Guess the image of him being okay with beating Blake half to death wasn't as much of a turn-off as I'd thought.

"Oh please, I don't know where Chef gets them. I wonder if he even knows the answers himself," Becky said with a pout.

The answer popped into my head. "It's tomorrow."

"What?"

"The answer is tomorrow. I think."

The three of them stared at me with wide eyes.