“She is called, in your language, Rain Flower. We call her Quiauh-xochitl.” The chief smiled. “Give it to Jak.” He smiled proudly at being allowed to use the given name of the visiting god. “Enjoy,” he said to the teenager.
The cover was whisked away, revealing the dish.
“Gaia!” Krysty breathed.
“That’s disgusting,” Dean said, his jaw sagging, a piece of venison dropping from his greasy fingers.
It was the head of a large mutie rat, with the top of the skull hacked off. There had been no cutlery visible on the table for the preceding courses, but there was a metal spoon with a long handle sticking out of the gruel of brains and blood that brimmed from the cranial cavity.
“The food of the gods,” Itzcoatl announced. “You take all the cunning of the rat into your being by devouring its brains. Eat it, Jak.”
The albino opened his eyes wider, reflecting the bright orange flames of the fire in their ruby depths. “Pass on this. Thanks, but no thanks.”
The native didn’t seem at all worried at the refusal and beckoned for the woman, Rain Flower, to take the dish away again. “Unless you, Ryan, or any of your other buddies might wish to eat and become cunning?”
The companions declined the offer, shaking their heads.
“For dessert we have atolli .”
“What’s that?” Mildred asked. “Eye of newt and toe of frog, I guess.”
“Or perchance the wool of a bat and the tongue of a dog,” Doc added. “As the immortal bard of Avon has it.”
The atolli was a sticky mixture that looked extremely unattractive.
“Eat,” the chief said, waving his hands to encourage his guests.
Doc took the first plunge, inserting two fingers from his right hand into the mess and cautiously licking them. He screwed up his face for a moment, then tried another gobbet, sucking his fingers clean. “Interesting,” he said.
“What’s ‘interesting’ mean?” Mildred snapped. “You mean like it’s buffalo shit, but it’s real interesting buffalo shit?”
“Try it for yourself, my dear Dr. Wyeth. You above all should not be the one to eschew experimentation. It’s fascinating. You have, I am certain, sampled Chinese dishes that are sweet and sour?”
“Sure.”
“Well, this combines both sweetness and fieriness. There must be both honey and finely chopped chilies in this, unless I miss my guess. Am I correct, Chief Serpent of the Black Stone?”
Itzcoatl smiled broadly. “You are right, wise one. Chilies and wild honey mixed with maize. You like it?”
Now everyone was dipping in.
“Good,” Krysty said. “Real good.”
Dean scooped up a handful and lapped it like a dog. His eyes watered at the heat of the peppers, but he grinned through the discomfort at the delicious sweetness. “Ace on the line,” he mumbled through his third mouthful.
“My lips feel like they’ve been double bee stung,” J.B. called. “Need something cool to drink to salve them.”
“Too much octli and man sees Citlaltepetl,” Speaking Eagle said with a lopsided smile.
“What’s that?” the Armorer asked.
But the native’s grasp of American wasn’t good enough to explain what he meant. His chief took over the task.
“He say that you get drunk as skunk and see the Mountain of the Star. This is like a” he fumbled for the word he wanted, “Mountain of the Star is a vision. Yes. We have a drug called yauhtli that is for dreaming, as well.”
“Is there any more of that rather splendid maize and honey and chili concoction?” Doc asked. “If pressed, I do believe that I could force down a tiny portion more of it.”
Mildred laughed. “Follow it up with a wafer-thin chocolate mint, Doc?”
“If such a delicacy were available, then I would welcome it. But until then, I shall remain content with atolli . If that is the correct name for it?”
The chief nodded. “Yes, there is more. But, Jak, you have eaten little. Is that the way of gods?”
“No, it’s not. I don’t know. Just that dish of rat’s brain took away appetite.”
Ryan sighed, breathing out, relishing the feeling of fullness. It wasn’t often during his travels that he’d enjoyed having eaten and drunk so well.