Chapter 19: Chapter 19: If A Faun Eats a Goatkick Taco Is It Cannibalism?

Nay inserted herself between Gracie and Nom.

“Careful!” Gracie cried. “It’s right behind you! It’s a tentacle – thing! Watch out!”

“Gracie,” Nay said. “Take a breath.”

Gracie looked at her with confusion. Nay put a hand on the tentacle’s head, totally relaxed.

When Nom didn’t make any sudden moves, just stood there and shrugged, Gracie’s eyes widened. This tableau did not compute for her. She was trembling, ready to flee.

“Say hello to our sous chef,” Nay said. “This is my second-in-command. His name is Nom.”

Nom waved a protuberance. “Hello, Gracie,” he said. “It’s a pleasure to officially meet you. I look forward to manning the line with you.”

He went back to flattening the balls of tortilla batter and storing them between layers of wax paper.

Gracie’s bottom lip quivered. She looked like she was about to burst into tears. As she spoke she stammered, “What, what do you mean? That thing is working with us? It’s a cook?”

“I’m also a tentacle,” Nom said, not looking at her, focused on his task. “Best get used to me now as we’re going to be spending a lot of time in the trenches together.”

“A…tentacle?”

“Yep.”

As Gracie tried to process this, her eyes began to roll into the back of her head. She passed out and slid down the wall and there she was unconscious on the floor.

“Great,” Nay said. She got bunched up a towel and propped it up under Gracie’s head.

“Well, that went better than expected,” Nom said. “I think she handled my presence quite well. I do make quite a bold introduction, don’t I?”

/////////

Nay revived Gracie from her fainting spell by holding some crushed tundra pepper seed under her nose.

The stitchgal came to, saw Nom and started screaming again. But Nay got her to relax and gave her a cup of water. She let her cool off in the in the walk-in freezer and made sure Nom was working in her line of vision so she could accept the reality one of her new co-workers was a sentient tentacle. When she became more conscious and seemed okay, Nay gave her the task of writing the new dinner items in chalk on the menu boards.

She went to check on Gracie’s station to see how much fish she had prepared to bake. She also had her potatoes ready to bake. These were for backup. But if all went according to plan, they would have more orders of the goatkick tacos than the fish.

With both Nom and Gracie busy, and some time to kill before dinner service, Nay stepped outside to drink more pepper tea and gather herself.

It was the calm before the storm and she wanted to have a clear head before the chaos arrived.

Outside the back exit of the kitchen, she had a great view of Lac Coinescar. It was a gray and silver body of water and it seemed to carry out to the horizon, where there were mountains demarking the next valley over. There was a mist over the water and it was quite the sight with the banks and trees covered in ice and snow.

There were fishing boats in the mist. The air smelled crisp and fresh and the cold actually felt good against her skin since she had spent most of the day working near the kitchen fires. She exhaled and took a sip of her tea. There was a savage beauty to the harsh landscape and she thought that this was quite the contrast to sunny Los Angeles.

Movement on the shore below caught her attention.

Quincy was down there, shirtless, barefoot in a pair of breaches, performing what looked like stretching or tai chi. As suspected, he was covered in scars from his life of adventuring. He was fluid in his movement and Nay had no doubt that he had trained and honed his body into a weapon. She could tell by the way he moved. He had the body of not just an athlete, but a fighter. This was probably his way of grounding himself before the busy night.

He finished his dynamic routine and then walked into the frigid lake.

He kept walking until he was completely submerged. Nay had heard of cold therapy before but she had never done it herself or witnessed it in person. But it obviously had some benefit to blood flow and musculature and overall health, because she couldn’t imagine someone torturing themselves if there was no benefit to it. He sat there in the icy water, eyes closed, probably meditating. She wondered if this was also some cultivation process.

It seemed like Quincy was a man with a lot of mystery to him, as she had a lot of questions and she was sure he had a lot of tales. She was intrigued. This stuck in her mind as she finished her tea and then walked back inside the kitchen.

/////////

The Lodge’s serving staff gathered in the kitchen in front of Nay. She had sent Gracie to fetch them for a pre-service meeting. Nom was in one of the darkened storerooms, wolfing down family dinner.

Nay could tell this wasn’t a common practice as they waited impatiently, wondering what they were doing back here in the kitchen.

The three servers were stitchgals and in addition to Hilde whose face was pierced with iron rings, there was also Ullabella and Bryja. Ullabella was another stitchgal, that hybrid of maugrim and human who populated this valley, but Bryja was something else entirely.

She had two rams horns curving off her skull, one on each side of her blue-haired head. From her head to her waist she had a human body, but her legs were those of a goat or a ram. They were hooved and there was an extra joint a foot below her knee that slanted the lower half of her legs forward. They were covered in a blue pelt of fur.

Gracie had explained that she was a chillwind faun, and not to be surprised with her appearance as she could be quite sensitive. They were endemic to Stitchdale, especially near the Spineshard mountains.

The servers looked young but they had all worked here for a few years and were staples of the tavern experience at the Lodge. Nay wasn’t sure how stitchmen and chillwind faun aged. Did they age slower than humans? She didn’t know so she would make sure to ask Gracie when she got a chance.

On the table before them she had four plates prepared. Each plate had a couple of garlic knots, a serving of goatkick tacos and to the side of each plate one sinsucker blondie each.

“What’s this?” Bryja said, her stomach audibly growling. She leaned forward to inspect the food, nearly salivating. “Whatever it is, it smells good.” Bryja’s blue hair was shaved on one side. It looked like she could wrestle most of the men who frequented the Lodge into submission.

“Nether hells,” Hilde said, “have you not had anything to eat today? Your stomach sounds like there’s a goblin moaning in pain.” Her hair looked like it was bleached white but she had explained it was natural.

That hair color was a thing here up in this cold climate. There was a constant air of exasperation about her, like she was already tired of everyone’s shit and the shift hadn’t even started.

“Or pleasure,” Ullabella said. Her lips were painted red and she had jetblack hair. Her whole vibe reminded Nay of goth chicks from back home. Her voice was wry and it seemed like her main mode of communication was sarcasm.

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“This is family dinner,” Nay explained. “I like to feed the staff before each shift, so you all don’t go hungry while you’re working.”

“See, this is what I’ve been talking about,” Bryja said. “Some enterprising minds around here who think about us employees and our day-to-day work struggles. Quincy thinking outside the box for once.”

“Also, we’re going to have some new menu items tonight and I want you all to know what they taste like so you can describe them to the customers,” Nay said.

“Customers,” Ullabella muttered in disdain.

“So go ahead, eat up and I’ll describe what each one is,” Nay said.

Bryja stuffed a garlic knot in her mouth. Her body seemed to react before her mind did. Her eyes widened and then rolled back into her head in ecstasy as she chewed. She let out a moan of delight and then opened her eyes, looking at Nay like, What is this diabolical mouth magic?

“So we’re calling those Nay’s Garlic Knots,” Nay said. “It’s a soft bread twisted into knot. But it’s brushed in an infused garlic oil and garlic butter. Also sprinkled with bits of this pecarino cheese you guys already had in the larder.”

Bryja swallowed. “That’s hammer-whacking delicious! My blood and marrow, that’s the best bread I’ve ever put in my mouth.” She grabbed her other garlic knot and took a bite, a feral and intense hunger on her face.

That must be the hunger debuff, Nay thought. It seems to have an instant effect.

Hilde and Ullabella were surprised by Bryja’s reaction and each grabbed a knot to inspect for themselves. They each looked at each other before biting into their respective knots.

Again, that transformative look on their faces appeared like they were having a spiritual revelation.

Nay had seen similar reactions to her food before, but never with this level of knee-jerk intensity. She could feel the waves of their pleasure and hunger radiating off them.

It was profound.

“Tomorrow, I think the knots should be even fluffier because I’ll be using a different dough,” Nay said. “But these should do for now.”

Bryja was already looking around for more knots. “Are there more?”

“Well, the rest we want to save for the diners,” Nay said. “But if there’s some leftover at the rest of the shift, you’re welcome to them. But go ahead and try the goatkick taco.”

Nay cringed then, suddenly realizing that Bryja might be offended.

Were fauns related to goats? If she ate a goatkick taco would it be like cannibalism? She had to say something. “Does it bother you that there’s goat meat…?”

Bryja looked at the birria taco. It was glistening with red moisture from the consommé. Nay had sprinkled the icebite cilantro pico and some shaved pecarino cheese on top. There was also a little dipping cup of the consommé.

“So the idea is you can eat the taco as is,” Nay said, “but if you want it to have a little more kick, you can dip it in the consommé. It’s a sauce that’s full of flavor. But if the goat meat things bothers you, you don’t have to – ”

Bryja picked up the taco and bit into one end. At the first bite she did a double-take at the taco in her hands, swallowed and then took another bite. As she chewed she hummed a little. “I don’t know what a taco is but that is another bit of magic. You said that’s goat?”

Nay nodded.

“That’s not like any goat I’ve ever tasted,” Bryja said. “When I’ve had goat before I always thought it would be better to chew on a fauglir saddle. It would be softer. But this!”

So, fauns didn’t have a problem eating goat.

Nay exhaled in relief.

Bryja took another bite, devouring most of it. “It melts on the tongue! But the spices kick you in the back of the throat! But in a good way of course. Boy, I’m thirsty now.” She grabbed a cup and slammed some water down.

Hilde and Ullabella moved from the garlic knots to the tacos. Ullabella wry look was now one of curiosity and wonder. She actually tasted the consommé first, taking a sip of it. She whistled. “That’s a spicy soup. Has a tang to it.”

Hilde bit into her taco and did the same double-take reaction Bryja did. As she chewed she looked at Nay. “Are ye some kind of sorceress? Where are you from?”

Nay said as Quincy instructed her. “I’m from across the ocean. Reith.”

“Is all food from the Kingdom of Reith this good?” Hilde said. She continued to work on her taco.

“No,” Nay said. “It all depends on the skills of the cook.”

“What in the underrealm are you doing here?” Ullabella said. “You belong in Delicatessa cooking for one of the Promenades. This food is straight witchcraft.”

“I appreciate the compliment, ladies,” Nay said, “but let’s see how the patrons react to the food tonight.”

“Whatever Quincy is paying you,” Ullabella said, “it’s not enough. Word is gonna spread. Lucerna’s End has never had food this posh.”

“Or delicious,” Bryja said.

Gracie gave Nay a reaffirming look. Her kitchen assistant had already finished her family meal and looked like she was floating on a cloud.

The serving staff guzzled water and remarked how they felt refreshed and excited to work tonight’s shift. Nay thought that must be the Strength Buff from the goatkick tacos. She was beginning to think that maybe giving them the sineater brownies was a mistake. It might not be a good idea to give to the stitchgal waitresses because of its particular lovepotion-like effects. But it was hard to deny the benefits of a Stamina and Dexterity Buff.

The brownies would keep them limber on their feet and give them the resolve to last through a busy shift and be in a good mood.

The girls all but squealed in delight as they ate the brownies, singing Nay’s praises down to the last bite.

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