The next morning, Archie and company met downstairs to eat breakfast. They didn’t feel comfortable helping themselves to the kitchens of the Monastery, so they sat in the great public dining area with a hundred other people.

  Compared to the long, backless benches of the Academy, the Monastery’s seating seemed luxurious. Each bench seated two or three people, had handrails and a carved wooden back, and a cushioned seat and back covered in blue and red carpets with serpentine dragons and flower borders. For whatever abundance Khalyans lacked in food, they made up for it in craftsmanship.

  “We should just go back there,” Archie complained. “We can help them out instead of making them serve us.”

  “We may be Chefs, but we are outsiders,” Barley explained. Archie wondered if Barley truly thought of himself as an outsider. Had he stopped becoming a true Khalyan when he decided to go to the Academy instead of the Monastery?

  “It’s just for this morning,” Blanche beamed. She had slept off any travel fatigue.

  Archie envied her energy. He had woken up in the middle of the night in a panic, expecting Prince Waldorf to come busting through the door and telling him to get back to work. It had taken him hours to get back to sleep.

  “Let’s experience it from the other side for once,” Blanche added.

  Archie thought of Rowan’s philosophical approach to dining and wondered how the old man was holding up managing Chandler on his own.

  “Nori, what do you think?” Archie asked, looking at the end of the table where she sat.

  “Uh…” Nori’s mouth hung open. “I guess I…agree with you?”

  Archie held his hands out in a shrug and looked at Barley.

  Barley shook his head. “You’ll have plenty of work to do. Relax while you still can.”

  Archie took a deep breath and let himself relax. It lasted a second.

  “Nori! And uh…Ar…Ar…Ar-ar!” Hawthorn called out to them as he weaved through the tables carrying a tray of teacups.

  “Archie,” Archie groaned.

  “Right!” Hawthorn poked his own forehead with his free hand. The tray of teacups tilted dangerously. “How’s the head?”

  Every hour, the Monastery rang bells to mark the hour. The vibrations made Archie want to die. “It’s fine.”

  Hawthorn smiled at Nori, waiting for her greeting. She forced a smile with her lower lip. “Hi Hawthorn.”

  “Good news! I talked to Head Chef Picea about you guys. She suggested that I be your guys’s sorta…host student!” He shook the tray a little bit in excitement, the cups rattling and threatening to spill. “Well, I suggested it. But she thought it was a good idea!”

  Archie rubbed his temples.

  “So I’ll help you guys figure your way around the kitchen and the yard and the city. We can cook together and train together. And I’ll show you all the great food we have!”

  “Cool! I’m Blanche.”

  “I’m Hawthorn.”

  “Sutton.”

  “Barley.”

  “Barley?” Hawthorn asked. “Are you from around here?”

  “I’m from Jakha. It’s a few days north.”

  Hawthorn rocked his whole body as he nodded. “Yeah, Jakha, I know the place. I went there last year during one of my rotations. So are you guys here for the summer?”

  Archie looked to Nori for her to answer. That had become his custom after the last few months. But Nori, along with everyone else, looked to Archie to answer. He looked around for confirmation, wondering when he had been designated the leader of the trip. He thought of all the reasons they were there—Sutton and him for research, Blanche to learn foraging, Barley to visit home, Nori to…

  Why was Nori there? Archie didn’t remember inviting her. Not that he minded having her. Of course he wanted her to come. But now that he thought about it, he couldn’t recall a single conversation about her coming along. She just had loaded up into the carriage with them. Maybe Blanche didn’t want to be the only girl. Maybe she just wanted to make sure Archie was okay. She had been different ever since his run-in with Prince Waldorf.

  He didn’t need to figure it out, and he definitely didn’t need to explain it to Hawthorn.

  “Various reasons,” he said.

  “Oh, cool, cool.” Hawthorn didn’t even recognize the attempted dismissal. It was if he were incapable of negative thought. “All the other Head Chefs are out on summer duties, so I assume you’re working with Head Chef Picea?”

  Archie looked to Barley for that one. Barley had been the one to coordinate their trip.

  “That’s right,” Barley said.

  “Ooo, ooo, ooo.” Hawthorn sucked air through his teeth. He nodded at Archie. “When she gets you out in the yard…definitely wear a helmet then.”

  “Is she around?” Barley asked.

  “Yeah, I saw her around the kitchen. I’ll grab her when I head back in. Oh, hey!” Hawthorn lowered the tray, showcasing the teas. “Sweet milk tea or salted black tea?”

  “Salted for me,” Barley answered.

  The rest of the group let out a collective “Uuuuummmm…”

  “Tell you what, take one of each,” Hawthorn said. He didn’t wait for a response, placing two cups in front of each of them. “Drink the salted black tea first. I’ll bring you some fry bread. It’s perfect for dipping in the sweet milk tea. And I’ll let Picea know you’re here.”

  Hawthorn left, handing out the rest of his teacups to other guests before heading back to the kitchen. Blanche exchanged a look with Nori. “He’s cute,” she cooed as she lifted the salted black tea to her mouth.

  “He’s nice,” Barley added.

  “He just feels bad for almost knocking Archie out,” Sutton said.

  “Technically I hit myself,” Archie clarified. He’d rather be called an idiot than credit that do-gooder with landing a blow.

  Blanche slurped at the edge of the steaming tea. “Mmm. Not too salty. Light flavor. It’s almost like a soup.”

  Archie took a sip and burned his tongue.

  Blanche turned to Barley. “So this Head Chef…Picea? Do you know anything about her?”

  “Just a little,” Barley admitted. “I never met her or anything. I know that she’s a fighter. A real one. But aside from that…I wrote to the Monastery about us coming and she’s the one that responded. She said we could stay as long as we took on regular assignments.”

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  “Assignments?”

  “Yeah. They do things differently here. At the Academy, you have to be sponsored by a jacketed restaurant and that’s how they pay for you. But in Khala, people donate to the Monastery. It can be money, food, livestock, anything. And then the Monastery pays the people back by sending their Chefs on assignments.”

  “What kind of assignments?”

  “Well, you know, we don’t have as many Chefs in Khala,” Barley started. Archie noticed the way Barley flipped ‘we’ to mean the people of Khala, not their Academy group. It reminded him of Nori’s problematic relationship with her last name. Sometimes it was ‘we.’ Sometimes it was ‘them.’

  “Most villages don’t have any,” Barley continued. “So throughout the year, a rotating portion of Monastery students and a Head Chef go around the kingdom providing services. Helping to grow crops. Extracting meat from herds. Duplicating foods to last the winter.

  “It’s not like Ambrosia City. It’s not really about flavor. It’s about surviving. Academy students are free to do whatever they want during the summers. But in Khala, that’s when Monastery students work harder than ever since that’s such a critical growth and harvesting time for villages. That’s why it’s so empty around here right now. Most of them are on rotation.”

  Archie noticed the flip of ‘we’ again. He realized that he did it himself sometimes. The Chef Kents, we. The Gluttons, they. He took another sip of his tea. He thought he liked it, but he couldn’t be sure with his burnt taste buds.

  “Of course, there are jobs to be done in Khaldeer,” Barley added. “With so many people, this place serves as the industrial center of Khala. Other villages help supply Khaldeer with food, and Khaldeer supplies them with equipment. Carts. Traded goods. You know, the fridge was invented in Khaldeer. It’s our most profitable export.”

  Archie always loved fridges. Little metal boxes powered by modified mint magic to keep things cool. He thought of the one back in Petrichor. As a child, their fridge had been a great, imposing thing. Then after a bout of financial trouble, they had downgraded to a little iron box. But Petrichor hadn’t recovered its reputation, it was in the process of restoring its commercial success. Maybe Archie could find a good deal on a suitable fridge while he was in Khala.

  Sutton perked up. “I was hoping I could see how they are manufactured. You know, in the historical district, they still have the house of the guy that invented it. I can—”

  “—heeeere’s breakfast!” Hawthorn announced as he lowered a tray full of plates. “Got you some fry bread and cherries.” He handed out the plates and took the tray back. “Okay, things are picking up, so I gotta keep serving. I’m sure you’ll love it. And Picea will be out soon.”

  Blanche watched him leave.

  Archie went for the fry bread without tea first, tearing off a piece in his mouth. The tough, slightly crispy exterior made Archie jerk his head to tear it, but once he got inside, the fluffy inside provided the perfect texture contrast. It lacked a strong flavor, but Archie fixed that by dipping his second bite into the sweet milk tea.

  “Ugh!” Sutton recoiled at the taste of a cherry, making the table laugh. “It’s sour!”

  “They grow sour in the cold,” Blanche said with a mouth full of bread. “They’re not sweet like in Ambrosia City.”

  Sutton started to bend over his plate as he pushed the cherry back between his lips.

  “Uh!” Barley sent a hand out to prevent Sutton from bending over further. “Do not waste food here. Especially food that has been given freely.”

  Sutton closed his eyes and inhaled through his nose. He chewed as little as he could before swallowing it. “I hate sour stuff,” he said.

  Archie laughed and looked down the table at Nori. She had shifted to face away and stared blankly at the garden in the atrium. Her finger twirled around a cherry, spinning it and magically pulling its juice through the skin and onto her plate.

  It reminded him of the first time he had ever seen her. Blanche and Sutton had been there too. Barley subbed in for Oliver and Cress—not that he could say in an hour what they said in a minute. And then, just like on that day, Nori sat on the end, not really paying attention. Not really there. Not able to be there. Processing something. She had been that way since they left the Academy.

  “Well, well, well, don’t you look like a capable lot.”

  Archie turned. He saw the midsection of a well-built woman in a red jacket. Then he looked up. And up. And up. Once he craned his neck back enough, he saw the face of a towering woman with as much muscle as Barley.

  Striking blues eyes looked down at him past her wide, masculine chin. Her face was a battle between the feminine and the masculine. Her blonde hair was braided tight to her scalp, but little curly wisps escaped and draped over her forehead. Her soft, delicate cheeks and brow worked against a long, lumpy nose and a wide mouth. Her face had just started losing the fight against time, her defeat marked by the etching wrinkles above her nose and around her eyes.

  Now that Archie had seen her, he felt confident he could pick her out of a crowd from a mile away. Her warrior’s physique had even brought Nori back to attention.

  Barley jumped to his feet. “Head Chef Picea.”

  “At ease, Barley,” she responded with a grin and a laugh. Her voice was feminine. Her chuckle was not. Her voice sounded like a lullaby. Her chuckle sounded like a cup falling down the stairs. “Now, I remember the other names from the letters. Let’s see if I can guess right…”

  She rubbed her bottom lip with her thumb, then pointed correctly. “You’re Nori. You’re Blanche. The names give that one away. And then we have…”

  She looked between Archie and Sutton a few times, then at Barley. “You said someone would need access to the library. What was their name?”

  “Sutton,” Barley answered.

  “So that makes…you.” She put a heavy hand on Archie’s shoulder and looked down at him. “Archie.”

  She looked up at Sutton. “And you’re Sutton. Mm, you remind me of my husband at that age. Bookish.” She looked him up and down, a little smile forming in the corner of her mouth. Her voice lowered to a growl. “I could pick you up and keep you in my pocket.”

  Archie heard Sutton gulp.

  Picea’s face reverted back to a welcoming smile. “Sorry I couldn’t meet you all last night. I’m the only Head Chef here right now, so things get a little hectic. One should be coming back in the next week, though, so I’ll have more time for you then. How are your beds?”

  “Good,” Nori and Blanche said.

  “Great, thanks,” Barley said.

  “A little st—good,” Archie said.

  “Uhm,” Sutton said.

  “Good!” Picea said, echoing the only answer she had heard. “Well, they’re free but they’re not free free. I know you have some things you want to do while you’re here, but I’ve got jobs for you.”

  “We’re ready,” Barley asserted.

  “Great,” Picea responded. “Well let’s start with strengths. Sound off. Starting with you, flower.” She stroked Blanche’s hair.

  “Uh—” Blanche shivered at the touch, grinning like a schoolgirl. “I’m a really good cultivator.”

  “The best cultivator,” Archie clarified.

  Picea nodded her approval. “Alright, alright. You’re the one that’s here for the foraging exam. I’ll teach our flower here all my tricks. When you’re ready, you can start taking on some foraging jobs near the mountains.”

  Picea moved on from Blanche, grabbing Archie’s shoulder and giving it a strong shake. “So how about you, then?”

  “Cooking and conjuration,” he answered. His cooking scores didn’t reflect his confidence. “Pasta. Blueberries. Sugar and candy.”

  “Hm…Well—”

  “—while I’m happy with cooking jobs, I’d really like something that will help me get stronger. Physically.”

  “Oho! Trying to look like me, then?” Picea laughed. “Okay. I’ll send you out to the yak farmers.” She looked at Barley. “What about you?”

  “Mint. And well…” Barley looked down at himself. “I’m strong.”

  Picea nodded. “Yeah you are. Alright, I’ll send you with little Archie here. If he has to wrestle a yak, you can make sure he doesn’t take a horn to the gut.”

  Having crossed the threshold from thin to average over the last year, Archie would normally oppose being called little. But with the word coming from Picea, he couldn’t protest.

  Picea looked at Sutton.

  “Uh,” he stammered. “I—”

  “—you. Are working with me,” Picea cooed. “There’s a lot of paperwork to being a Head Chef. If you’re really like my husband, you think it’d be interesting to find out how we manage inventory and logistics throughout an entire kingdom. Am I right?”

  “Uh—I—ye—yes ma’am.”

  “Call me Picea,” she purred. She looked at Nori. “That just leaves you.”

  “I’m good at cooking,” Nori stated. “Particularly with citrus.”

  “Eh, not much to do with citrus around here. Got any other talents?”

  Nori took a deep breath. “Seafood, I guess,” she mumbled.

  “Oh, good!” Picea threw her hands into the air in celebration. “I’ll send you down to the harbor. We’re way backed up down there. We’ll get everyone started today. Let me get Sutton set up in my office and then I’ll take you down. Blanche, get familiar with the plants in the garden while I’m gone.”

  She spotted Hawthorn walking with another tray. “Oh, Hawthorn! I got a job for you today. Take Archie and Barley over to Buart’s. Make sure they both come back in one piece.”

  Hawthorn laughed like she had just told an inside joke. “Buart’s, huh? Alright then.”

  Picea patted Arche on the back. “Buart has some of the meanest yaks in Khaldeer.” She grinned. “This is gonna be fun.”