Salt Fat Acid Magic [Nom-Fiction | Food Fights | Culinary Academy]

Bk 2 Chapter 57 - The Beginning of the End


Julienne kept his face close to the wall of the carriage as he peeked out the window. "Looks like they're searching them."

"Acorn Guard?" Yarrow asked.

Julienne squinted to see better. While his team had ridden in one of Duke Malakoff's carriages, their extra guards had ridden in the notorious carriage owned by Cafe Julienne. The subterfuge worked. A group of guards pulled over the dummy carriage just outside the main gates to Ambrosia City. The men did not bear the sigil of the Acorn Guard. They did not want to show their affiliations.

"I'm guessing it's Waldorf's men," Julienne said. He slid the viewer in the front of the carriage open and spoke softly to the driver. "See if they'll let you pass."

The driver stirred the horses to motion and they went through the gates unchecked. Julienne took one last look at the other carriage before pulling the blinds shut.

"They were probably told to stop the Cafe Julienne carriage and subtly confiscate anything resembling a truffle. I'll need to tell my uncle that that carriage is an easy mark. I'll need to tell him a lot of things."

"I still can't believe Neccio would do that," Mindy said. "And he's still out there. What are you going to do?"

Julienne puffed out his cheeks and let them deflate with a pop. "I'm going to let Uncle Julienne handle it. I…I'm out of my depth on this one. A Black Jacket in another kingdom wants me dead? Even ignoring the family of it all, that's not something I'm equipped to handle."

"We're going to have to change the way we do things," Yarrow said. "I don't want you moving between the Academy and the Cafe without me."

Julienne snorted. "What, you're my bodyguard now?"

"It's not a laughing matter," Yarrow stated. His demeanor matched the steeliness of his voice. "You would be dead if I wasn't there."

Julienne gingerly touched the scabs on his forearm where Yarrow's acid had burned. He wondered what it would have felt like to be engulfed by the acid. He wondered if the body shut down or if it was the most painful thing in the world. He remembered the screaming. The latter was probably the truth.

"I'm going to work closer with Tarragon to learn how to fight," Yarrow said. "You should too. Next time something like that happens, we need to be ready."

"Hopefully there isn't a next time. And don't neglect your other studies. We need to make an impression in the kitchen this year."

"I'll be ready for that too."

For the first year of knowing him, Julienne had wished Yarrow would find confidence. But now that it was here, it felt wrong. Yarrow had never had much softness to him, but whatever there was had seemingly been ironed out over the summer.

"So am I in danger too?" Mindy asked.

Julienne shook his head. "I don't think any of us are in danger. Not here."

"You can die anywhere," Yarrow said.

"That's enough morbidity. Can we just be happy for a day? We're back home. We got the truffle. We'll be cooking again in the Cafe. We'll be studying at the Academy. Things are good here."

"I've missed the Academy so much," Mindy said. "And not that you guys weren't great company, but I'm excited to see everyone again."

"Me too."

A set of Acorn Guards waved them through the gates to the Crown of the city.

"In fact," Mindy said. "Can we skip straight to the Academy? I'm too tired for the Cafe. I just want to sleep."

"Let's let them drop me off at the Cafe. Then they'll take you to the Academy." Julienne saw Yarrow's disapproving look and shook his head. "I'll be fine. I need to talk to my uncle alone."

"I'll wait outside," Yarrow countered.

Mindy sighed and knocked on the front wall of the carriage. "I'm walking the rest of the way," she told the driver. She pulled the wrapped up truffle from her pocket and handed it to Julienne. "You two work out whatever you need to work out. I'm taking a nap."

Julienne took the truffle and realized he had never held it before. Even through the layers of cloth, its essence burned like a comforting fire. "We'll see you tonight in the lounge? Drinks by Oliver?"

Mindy scoffed as the carriage came to a stop. Julienne rose to help her out but she waved him off. "I might sleep for a whole day. We'll see. And if that's the case…goodnight, Julienne. Goodnight, Yarrow."

"Goodnight, Mindy," they responded in unison.

Mindy hopped down the last step of the carriage, turned to flash them a smile, and shut the door.

An awkward silence took over the carriage. Julienne looked at Yarrow. "Are you doing okay?"

Yarrow stuck his bottom lip up toward his nose. "I'm fine. I didn't get hurt."

"That's not…" Julienne's voice trailed off. He wondered if having killed two people weighed on Yarrow's conscience. If it didn't, Julienne wasn't sure if he should bring it up. "Nevermind."

They rode in silence to the gates of Labruscella.

"I'll stay here and keep watch," Yarrow said.

"I'll be fine, Yarrow."

"I'll stay here."

Julienne frowned and left the carriage.

"Master Julienne!" The Labruscellan guards stamped the butts of their spears on the ground in welcome, then returned to attention.

Julienne preferred their welcome to the overly warm, self-serving ones he had received in Toral. He nodded and made his way up the marble steps of Cafe Julienne, a smile creeping onto his face. Finally home. But it was more than that. The Cafe was him, and he was the Cafe. Now that he was back, he felt whole. He stepped into the kitchen and saw Uncle Julienne and his team hard at work.

"Attention!" a Chef called out. The others paused their work to look up and greet him.

"Chef Julienne," they said at once. Even though Julienne had been gone all summer, he still didn't get as loud of a welcome as Great Aunt Julienne. He was fine with that. He would earn it.

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"Hello Chefs. Continue."

"Don't," Uncle Julienne countered. "Get everything off the heat and leave us. Take a fifteen. Morcio, get Hollyhock. Urgently."

Morcio dashed out the door as the other Chefs scrambled to get their dishes to a stopping point. In the chaos, Julienne worked his way to his uncle, surprised at how happy he was to see him.

"Welcome back," Uncle Julienne said, his voice carrying only the faintest hint of emotion. "Good job securing the truffle."

Julienne launched himself into a hug which Uncle Julienne received like a statue. Then, slowly, he put his arm around Julienne and patted his back.

"Not a good trip, then?" Uncle Julienne asked.

Julienne pulled away, catching a couple of Chefs smiling at them. "Did you hear what happened?"

"I got a kestrel from Duke Malakoff. Two dead. Conjured acid. He insisted he would not launch an inquiry. I'll withhold my assumptions."

"It won't be a problem for us."

"It'll be a problem for the valley. They attacked you?"

Julienne closed his eyes and saw Ravi's acid-burnt corpse. He could still smell it. "They didn't want the truffle. They just wanted me."

"The letter also urged me not to launch an inquiry into that."

Julienne waited until the last Chef had left the kitchen. "I think it was Uncle Neccio. Maybe Head Chef Orzo."

Uncle Julienne's lips shrunk as he pressed them together. "Now that's a serious accusation."

Julienne pulled two vials from his pocket, one full and one empty. "This is what Uncle Neccio had me taking every night. He had me recite my location as a form of meditation to calm my stomach. This is what my attacker had on him. I think he was able to track me. Tell me it's not the same essence."

Uncle Julienne took the two vials and jostled them around in his hand. "Not a good trip, then?" he repeated.

"I hated it. I wasn't family to any of those people. I was…" Julienne sighed.

"Then you've learned what it means to be a Julienne." Uncle Julienne's face sank, but he did not allow himself to frown. His lips stayed thin and hard. "We can only rely on each other. I'll take care of it."

"How?"

"I'll take care of it."

"But why would they try to kill me?"

Uncle Julienne shook his head. "Spite. If it was Neccio, it's because he's upset that he wasn't a Julienne. If it was Orzo, it's because he's upset that he's still a Black Jacket. Either way, killing you accomplishes nothing but what they see as getting even."

"Why would Head Chef Orzo blame us? We're not keeping him from a white jacket."

Uncle Julienne tilted his head.

"Are we?" Julienne asked.

"Becoming a White Jacket is a different process. A majority of existing White Jackets need to vote you in during the Ambrosial Summit. The Bhante and Bhantla never show up, so they are effectively no's. Three or four more, and the vote doesn't go through."

"We're voting no?"

"Voting is anonymous."

"Why?"

"To protect relationships."

"No. Why are we voting no? Everything I've heard indicates that he deserves the white jacket."

Uncle Julienne breathed in deep through his nose. "It would not serve our purposes to have another White Jacket serving Labruscan cuisine."

"Seriously?"

"Your first duty as a Julienne is to maintain the perception that Cafe Julienne is the best restaurant in the world."

Julienne crossed his arms. "I thought it was to return Ambrosia's gift. To bring attention to and spread her spirit of generosity."

"That is our message, yes. One that is amplified by our status. There are other restaurants that teach by doing. Our job is to teach by telling."

Julienne stared at nothing and frowned. It made sense, but it felt wrong.

"Can you accept that?" Uncle Julienne asked.

Julienne nodded.

"You have the truffle with you?"

Julienne pulled it from his pocket and handed it over. Uncle Julienne sniffed the truffle, a rare happiness bubbling beneath the surface of his expression.

"Good. Get the ingredients for pasta. But don't make it."

Julienne grinned as he grabbed the flour and eggs. He was back cooking with his uncle. Everything was right with the world.

"We're using the truffle already?" he asked hopefully.

"Yes. But not me and you. Me and Hollyhock."

"Who's that?"

Right on cue, a Black Jacket Veratore burst into the kitchen, gripping her glasses so that they wouldn't fall from her nearly non-existent nose, her long brown hair flying around her as she ran. "You have it?!"

"We do," Uncle Julienne answered. He placed the truffle on the counter and dug a shaver from the drawers. "It's a fairly big one."

"Oh, thank Ambrosia," the woman sighed.

"Julienne is gathering your ingredients. Julienne, this is Hollyhock, the Royal Veratore."

The Royal Veratore? What business did she have outside the keep? What business did she have with Uncle Julienne?

She pushed Julienne aside and started to make pasta. "Cut it as thin as you can with as much essence as you can."

Uncle Julienne hunched over the counter, running the truffle across the shaver for a paper-thin cut.

"What's going on?" Julienne asked.

Hollyhock ignored him and continued to work on her pasta. She formed the dough into a ball. "Can you accelerate the resting process for me?"

Julienne stepped forward. "Sure."

"Not you." Hollyhock looked up at Uncle Julienne. "I need the strongest possible base of essence."

Uncle Julienne brought his truffle shavings over in a bowl. "Then we should let It rest naturally."

"No time. He's having a bad episode right now. He's being put in the carriage and brought here."

"He's not about to die at my gates, is he?"

"No," Hollyhock answered with certainty. But the expression she made after betrayed her confidence. "He still has a few months left. But his comfort level. The pain…"

"Okay. Move aside."

Julienne watched the exchange with confusion. Someone was dying?

Uncle Julienne rested the dough with his essence. Hollyhock rolled it thin, placed the truffle shavings neatly across, and folded and rolled it again.

Julienne's brain seemed to move in slow motion, circling a horrifying conclusion. Someone was dying. A he. Uncle Julienne wouldn't be doing all of this for Waldorf…

"Boiling water," Hollyhock commanded as she threw a dusting of flour over the pasta. "Fast."

Uncle Julienne filled a pot with water and slapped the bottom, bringing it to an instant boil. Hollyhock twisted the pasta and dropped it in.

"How long will it take?" Uncle Julienne asked.

Hollyhock shushed him as she stirred the pasta with a wooden spoon. He moved out of her way.

Julienne stepped beside his uncle. "What is going on?"

Uncle Julienne stared ahead, grinding his teeth. "That damn Duke Malakoff. Only allowing one truffle. He rules the valley alone. I told Flambé to order for more, but he wouldn't. He doesn't want people to know yet."

"Know what?" Julienne thought of the last time he saw Grand King Flambé. The king had a rattling cough. "Is something wrong with Grand King Flambé?"

"It started last summer."

An Acorn Guard burst through the doors. "He's here."

Hollyhock swirled the pot around a few more times and then ran off with it. Julienne's curiosity possessed him to walk after her. He went outside to see her leaning into the royal carriage. He stepped closer. She pushed noodles by hand into Grand King Flambé's mouth, the king half-slumped over in his seat.

Uncle Julienne watched with his nephew. "When you fed him those chunks of truffle, he didn't hurt as badly. For a while. Since then, he's been eating truffle with every meal. Something about that particular essence."

Hollyhock held Grand King Flambé's jaw and moved it to help him chew. Julienne had always viewed the man as a godlike figure, but here he was barely able to keep himself upright and unable to chew his own food. A broken, wilting man. A pathetic sight.

"Black truffles stopped helping. Same thing started to happen with white truffles."

The king's head wobbled. An Acorn Guard grabbed the back of his neck to stabilize it.

"This is the last step. And she thinks it will lose its effects over time as well."

Julienne looked away. In a way, it was a more horrific sight than anything he had seen in the valley. "How long does he have?" he asked.

"We don't know. Months. Years. Not enough."

Grand King Flambé spewed half-chewed pasta as a coughing fit took him. His Royal Veratore scooped it off the floor of the carriage and put it back in his mouth.

"I'm afraid we're watching the end of a great man," Uncle Julienne said. He stared down at the ground. "May Ambrosia help us with what comes next."

End of Book Two: The Summer of Legends

The journey will resume with Book Three: The Fading of the Flame

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