10. Epilogue

Sitting in a corner of the dark and damp dungeons, Chef had all the time in the world to realize just how naïeve she had been. Minneka and Perzwa worked together. That trader who sold Turnbacktulips obviously hadn’t “fortunately appeared”.

Anniwe—the previous King of Lions—had said for years that all demigods were to be banished. Or their powers taken from them. Most suspected him of abducting a handful of demigod Companions, basically ending the Companionship.

Of course Minneka, a demigod, hated the lions. Of course she wanted to take their power.

She saw a chance to make someone else take the fall. She grabbed that chance with all her elegant fox paws.

The ingredients of the recipe were believable enough to make Chef accept. Minneka played her role perfectly and seemed to really want that medicine. But the Bumpbarachts would hide the small and taste of the poison. The Fishfool would thicken the liquid and make it colorless.

The king stood no chance—and Chef had fallen into their trap with open eyes.

Time was fuzzy underground. She wasn’t sure if three hours had passed, or three days, or three weeks, when the cell door opened.

“I will bring you to your trial,” a lion said. The tears in his eyes had vanished. He even seemed … relieved?

Chef was put in handcuffs again, but not as violently as the last time. Maybe she’d helped this lion in her past too. Maybe he’d help her escape!

No. Escaping would be wrong, because she was guilty. Of poisoning. Of being kind to the wrong creatures. The thought alone made her cry again.

She ended up in te Throne Room, packed with animal species from all over Traferia. Her own invented plant stood next to Perzwa in a big, red flower pot. Judging from the decoration of the room, Perzwa had been stealing plants from others for far longer.

Her paws felt a silk red carpet. It chaotically traveled over marble steps and ended at the throne that held Minneka.

“We can be quick about this,” Minneka said loudly. “Multiple beings have seen how Chef was the only one to touch the medicine. How her wagon contained an empty poison jar. And now we have lost our beloved King of Lions, for the king is—”

“A bit sleepy, otherwise fine,” said a croaky voice that sounded as if it was struggling for air.

Minneka’s head nearly turned an entire circle.

Sulliwe waggled into the throne room, supported by four of his lion guards.

Chef’s eyes lit up. She could kiss that lion, with his grey mane and sleepy eyes.

“You’re alive!” Chef yelled in unison with the entire room.

“Yes, yes, quite an achievement, I know.” He stopped before the throne. “I believe you are sitting on my chair, Minnekeria.”

“But—what—why—sorry, this is improper.” Minneka immediately made room for him. She walked backwards towards the nearest exit. Only now, Chef noticed that all the exits were “accidentally” blocked by a big elephant butt or a group of bored panthers.

“When I told everyone I wasn’t feeling so well, two weeks ago,” Sulliwe started, “I hoped to sleep well and be fine. I had not expected to wake up in a hospital bed, surrounded by animals telling me I was dying.”

Murmurs rose from the audience. Sulliwe scratched his nail against his crown for attention.

“I thought it preposterous. A while later, I woke up again only to hear they had even started to ring the bells! And I heard Minneka had left to retrieve an ancient, magical medicine from the Good Chef.”

Sulliwe looked straight at Chef, then smiled warmly.

“A fitting name. A title you may keep forever. For even in the dark, even betrayed and obstructed and robbed, this chimpanzee … was able to make the right recipe.”

He rose from his throne. Minneka stood next to Perzwa, trying to hide behind Chef’s little tree.

“A solid recipe, that’s true. For a short period, it seemed as if I had died. A certain desert fox was eager to spread the news quickly. But in a short time, it actually healed me completely from whatever ailed me.”

Sulliwe’s sharp nails cut Chef’s handcuffs, setting her free.

“Because you are a good chef.”

The audience clapped, barked, growled, and raised spears at the ceiling. Chef’s heart raced, but for all the right reasons this time. She placed her half-grown paw against her chest, as her tail curled uncontrollably.

“Oh, well, erm, I don’t know if—”

“We do know.” Sulliwe kept smiling at her.

All who were present bowed to her, until she was the only being left who towered over all the others. She smiled ear to ear and shyly looked away.

Minneka had seen enough. She climbed Chef’s tree and tried to reach the roof. Sulliwe wanted to command his guards, until he noticed something green sticking to the fox’s legs.

When Perzwa climbed Chef’s plant too, he received the same green paws. It almost seemed like tiny, glistening droplets that eagerly grabbed your fur and covered more and more of it.

Sulliwe pushed back his guards. His falcons were also ordered to remain on the ground.

“Do not touch them. I don’t know what the green material is, but I don’t trust it.”

Minneka and Perzwa helped each other to a wooden chandelier. Perzwa could not leave his price behind, though. He pulled the plant with him, even if it gave his front paws the same green virus.

“You are truly insane!” Minneka yelled. She broke the glass in the roof dome and climbed outside, followed by the swine. Everyone made for the walls to dodge the rain of glass shards.

The fast footfalls of the two fleeing beasts sounded like hail hammering the roof, until they were gone.

“Gripglass,” said Chef. “I call it Gripglass.”

“Your species has been banished to Floria,” Sulliwe yelled after Minneka. “Ever return to Origina and you will risk the highest possible punishment!”

He returned to his throne, looking as sullen as his name suggested.

“My father Anniwe was right. You can’t trust demigods. If she truly had discovered her magic, we’d probably be long dead.”

He smiled at Chef again.

“Name your reward, girl. Soliduri? A palace of your own? A job as my advisor—a spot just opened up!”

Chef shook her head.

“Be a Good King. Make sure nobody in Traferia is without food and ends up with a malformed body. And please, bear children, so there will always be a King of Lions in Traferia. And … maybe … leave the demigods alone?”

Sulliwe’s belly and manes shook from laughter. “The Good Chef and the Good King. Now that is a story. I do pray you return with some new stories in the future. We’ve repaired your wagon and, who knows, maybe restocked your cupboards until they could take no more.”

Chef wanted to shake his hand, until she realized the Primas were the only species with hands. How did the other animals live? Without being able to grab anything with precision?

“Thanks, your majesty. I will need it on my journey, that I will.”

“To where?”

Chef thought about it. She missed her Recipe Book. But she had found and plucked the Fishfool without it. She had made the correct medicine without it.

Maybe she was something without her magical book.

“I have a world to explore and food to share. If I may ask one last thing …”

“Spit it out, Good Chef.”

“That swine has stolen my Recipe Book. My magical, extremely powerful book. Please send your best soldiers to get back that Heavenmatter.”

His eyes narrowed.

“Heavenmatter?” he whispered, instantly curious.

“And once you’ve stolen it back, oh I don’t know, place it somewhere another young animal might find it and use it to make the world a better place.”

Sulliwe winked and immediately gathered his best soldiers.

Chef turned around and lovingly hugged her Wagony, ready for her next journey.

And so it was that life continued …