Human Bait

Chapter 46: Little

At dinner time, a rainbow of steaming Southie dishes filled the center of her table.

Ivogg nudged me with his elbow, smiling wide enough to pinch his cheeks. "We finally have a chance to see if your cooking tastes as good as it smelled!"

"Your cooking," I corrected, though I couldn't help peeking at the Northerner entrance for the ornery sweetheart who never left my mind.

Had Rekkan ever tasted Southie food? Would he like it? Would he be impressed?

I slopped some yellow spiced stew onto my plate. When I spooned a little into my mouth, myriad flavors eclipsed the present, transporting me to a different place and time. I almost didn't notice when someone slipped into Rekkan's seat on my right.

Someone... much too small.

"Hi, Fennikk," I said, trying to hide my disappointment.

"Hi, Mister Zafaru." She ladled a little stew onto her plate and contemplated the food with furrowed brows. "Is this Southie food, or something? It smells funny."

"Yes, it's Southie food." I sifted my spoon through my own portion, working up the bravery for another bite. "You don't like it?"

"I've never tasted it. But I want to because I like Southies. I mean, I like you. And I also like..." She stretched her arms wide and snuck a not-so-discrete glance at Razulu's table, where the Southie girl devoured a heaping plate of stew next to Doctor Vizan. "Mister Zafaru, can I ask you something?"

I scooped some more stew into my mouth. "Of course."

Fennikk set down her fork and spun in her chair to face me fully. "How do you know if you're in love?"

I choked. "Uh... what?"

"I mean, you're in love, right?"

I swallowed the food and felt the bulge all the way down my throat. On one hand, the question seemed laughably obvious. Of course I was in love. Rekkan permeated every part of my life, fueled my every desire. But on the other hand... the words still carried a scary newness, a gut-flipping note of uncertainty.

I once told my father I loved him, maybe because I truly felt it or maybe just because I wanted to hear him say it back. I could still hear his response: Don't say that again. You sound pathetic.

So I had never told Rekkan I loved him. And he had never told me.

Fennikk propped an elbow on the table. "Where is Mister Rekkan?"

"Well, he's a bit... he needs a little time away from... people."

"Even you?"

"Especially me."

Fennikk tapped a finger against her lips and nodded. "I see. And did you try telling him one thing you like about him?"

I slapped a palm against my forehead. "Fennikk, it's not that kind of situation."

"Well, then what kind of situation is it?"

I stirred my stew, searching for a way to explain to her that which still confused me. Before I could find the right words, something distracted me from my thoughts: Lekk, Bokk, Megg, and Bezan trotted to the table behind mine once more. The Southies seated there exchanged glances and dispersed to new tables. The Cutthroat Crew defectors and formerly-Northerner-hating Southie appeared not to notice, smiles unwavering.

Fennikk piped up again. "Sometimes, with Razalu, I have to take care of her a little bit, even if she's being silly. Because she's still little, you know? She's only eight."