Evan had never in his life felt such dissonance. Right now he was sitting in an outfit straight out of a tale from the Thousand and One Nights. In a room that could have been part of the palace of a sheikh, a sultan, an emir, or some other Arab ruler. Across from him sat a tigress in the dress of an Arabian harem queen. Above him stood two broad-shouldered brutes in outfits that brought to mind the nasty guard from the well-known animated adaptation of Aladdin's lamp. Everything was very beautiful, if not for the fact that they almost certainly intended to eat him again. He was tired of feeling complimented by that.
"I wish to apologize once more for the inconvenience of the logistics. I truly regret that I could not arrange this in a more dignified way."
A crystal carafe full of rose water had been set before them. A servant poured rose water for them both.
"You do realize this is a kidnapping?"
"Of course."
"You do realize I am Arslan Flambe's protégé."
"Of course." She thought for a moment. "Master Flambe. He is a magnificent cook, but unfortunately he lacks the resolve to reach for the highest beauty."
Evan had the unpleasant feeling he had heard similar words before.
"Are you an acquaintance of Albentine? Is this revenge?"
"Albentine… she understood presentation. She knew that taste begins before the first bite. That is a rare gift, but unfortunately she poisoned it with the worst spice in the world."
"Which one?"
"Contempt." She sighed. "Unfortunately it is a common flaw in our society. A true crack in the jewel."
"Society?" Evan felt very uneasy.
"The Society of the Black Tablecloth. In the broadest terms, an elite society of gourmets prepared to delve into the farthest corners of the realm of flavors."
Evan looked at her.
"So you had me kidnapped in order to eat me?"
The tigress nodded, but Evan cut her off.
"Maybe you should explore your own flavor? Your thighs look interesting."
The tigress seemed slightly thrown off rhythm. She looked at her own thighs. Then she stroked them. What she did next was downright terrifying to Evan. She smiled as if she had received a divine revelation.
"I'm sorry, I phrased that badly…" He had said too much. He felt he had to correct it.
"There is no need to apologize. You are entirely right."
She lifted her leg high and ran her fingers along it the way a cook examines the marbling of meat.
"It would take patience. Long, enveloping warmth. Pomegranate thick as a river of nectar, perhaps dates as well, and cardamom, but only a little."
She lowered her leg. Evan was in shock. A moment ago she had described a recipe for herself, and in her voice there was something that made it clear she truly could give up her own legs so that this dish might come into being.
"However, I am not the star of the heavens right now. That role belongs to you."
"Are you really prepared to risk that much?"
He was even surprised himself that he had said it so gently.
"Please do not worry, Mr.… oh dear, where are my manners? I still have not introduced myself. Zahira Al-Nar. They call me the Saffron Tigress. If you are worried that I am prepared to risk my legal status, please allow me to lift that burden from you. I am already being sought by the Council. I paid 10,000,000 for you; that is considerably less than what my wanted poster offers."
Evan's eyes went wide. This woman could not be someone ordinary. She had long since stopped fearing the law. That meant she would probably stop at nothing.
"Since we are already on the subject." She leaned toward him. "Please accept these thanks."
"For what?" He had no idea what she meant. He wondered whether she was unhinged.
"For standing up for the Noctevore brothers. Thanks to you they avoided the pitiful fate of becoming factory ground meat." The tigress shuddered, as if she had experienced something impossibly horrible and repulsive.
"They… just… did…"
He felt himself losing words. He did not know what to say.
"Please say nothing. You understand it, even if the understanding is hidden from you." She pulled out a notebook from somewhere. Evan recognized it. It was the notebook in which he had written down his ideas for Rufus.
"This is only a first draft, but I am impressed. Great minds think alike. I am surprised, however, by such a quantity of carrots."
"Rufus loves them." He said it before he could bite his tongue.
"I see, so you are composing the work around its hero. That is worthy of a true master. It tells a story worth remembering. And naming everything in his honor is truly worthy."
Evan's heart froze. She was speaking exactly the way he thought, but she no longer had any brakes.
"Returning, however, to the reason I summoned you here, Mr. Evan. You are the only human. The only melody that can sound only once, and I want it to be a melody worthy of a fairy tale that will last through countless generations."
"So you are planning a feast out of me."
The erosion in his head was raging. The illness demanded immediate thanks. On top of that it shoved dozens of menu proposals at him and a demand that he share them with the cook at once.
He was still conscious enough to recognize the influence of the disease. And oriented enough to understand what he had really wanted to do with Rufus.
"And if I do not want to play in your theater?"
The tigress sighed lightly and pulled out a tablet.
"I expected such a lack of attunement, so I prepared… a moment of choice."
Evan looked at the tablet. He saw his girls on it. All of them were behaving as usual. He also recognized the app. It was an app for sending live recordings.
"My people are watching them in real time. All it takes is for me to give the order, and they will join our fairy tale. I am ready, however, to forget them completely if you agree to become worthy of a fairy tale."
Evan felt a drop of sweat run down his back. Worse still, Zahira had begun looking at the screen with fascination. She was not pretending. She was starting to see further fairy tales in his girls.
"I agree! I will become your culinary fairy tale!"
"Really?"
"As long as you truly forget about them."
Zahira touched her heart with one hand and her lips with the other.
"I promise that if you become my legendary dish, I will forget those girls completely. When the first cut breaks your skin and there is no going back, I will recall my people; until then I will keep them in sight. If you try to escape, our agreement will be void."
Evan felt one thing. Her promise was worth more than gold. For a worthy story she was ready to do anything. Considerably more than he had been for Rufus.