Book 6. Chapter 7: A farewell to arms
“It's about my sister’s son.” Captain Atlas said. “She left about a decade ago to live with her husband, a good cook last I heard. They’re in Atrena.”
I swear, I could almost feel Wrath somewhere out in the world perking her head up at the mention of a cook, despite the room having just Father, Quath, the captain and me in it. Never underestimate Feather hearing or specifically her stomach.
“They work at a restaurant that they funded from Quath’s loans.” The captain continued, unaware of the potential hunger gremlin he’d awakened on the other side of the wall. It’s technically my imagination of course, she might just be sitting out on the convoy having small talk with some of the knights or merchants.
“The last message I got from her was about four months back asking for help for her son.” Atlas finished. “She’s searching for help anywhere she can find it.”
Father raised an eyebrow at that. “This seems unrelated to us.”
“I would like to hear more.” Wrath said on the comms. “Atrena may have a different food culture and ingredient list to work with. Perhaps the captain might have some stored in his armor’s memory?”
So I wasn’t imagining anything. I’ve got an official honed sixth sense now when it comes to her, and I felt just a little smug about it.
“We are not diverting the expedition to feed your gullet.” Father said over the private comms to the food gremlin. “You of all people should know the stakes.”
My sixth sense was telling me Wrath was giving an angry pout right about now and sulking wherever she was sitting.