“Hello.” Em nodded frostily, not wanting to encourage him.
Rarev said nothing, but only gave the squid man a hard stare, which Om’bobla ignored, much as he ignored the glare coming from his mermaid wife.
Once they were all seated at the table—with Lord Torrid and Lady Tabuu still making out like a pair of horny teens—Elfa cleared her throat to get their attention.
“Ahem. Contestants who have passed the Trial of Truth, firstly may I say, congratulations! Since you have done so well, we Rigellens wish to honor you with your own favorite foods. In the center of the table, you will find everything you need to make them.”
Em stared at the strange silver and crystal machine—which looked a bit like an extremely complicated espresso maker had made a baby with a high-end microwave—and the lump of white clay in the middle of the table. Whatever could the Rigellen attendant mean?
“How do you mean, exactly?” Rarev asked, raising his eyebrows. “Is this device somehow going to produce our favorite foods for us?”
“It will…in a way. But you must give it some help,” Elfa told him. “First, pull off an appropriately-sized lump of maker-clay.” She demonstrated by reaching to the middle of the round table and tearing off a small chunk of the white clay. “Then, you mold it into the shape of the food you desire,” she went on. “And please be sure to concentrate on the food very hard as you make it—for the clay will absorb your intentions as you work with it,” she added.
Em watched with interest as the Rigellen attendant worked with the clay with the ease of long practice, molding it into a flower-like shape with long, fluted petals and a stem in the center.
“There!” Elfa said at last. “Now that I have molded the clay into the shape I want, I must pass it under the spigots and give it a drop of each solution.”
She demonstrated by holding the clay flower under each of the three spouts in turn and pressing a small lever which dispensed a single drop from each spigot. The droplets were yellow, blue, and pink, though the colors were so faint Em didn’t think she would have seen them if the clay hadn’t been so pale.
“Now, after getting a drop from each of the three spigots, your food creation must go into the intention realization box,” Elfa continued. She put her clay flower into the microwave-looking part of the machine and closed the door behind it. “Then you simply press the button and wait until the lights flash,” she continued, pressing the big silver button on the flat front of the crystal microwave-looking part.
After a moment, there was a brilliant flashing light from the machine that Em felt nearly blinded her.
“Oh!” she exclaimed, and blinked rapidly, trying to clear her vision. She wished the machine had a timer with a little ding sound, like microwaves back on Earth instead.
The lightning-like flash didn’t appear to bother Elfa, however. She simply opened the door and drew out the clay flower.
Only it looked nothing like clay anymore, Em saw. It was a shimmering pink and purple confection that glimmered in the light from the overhead chandelier like a gem.
“Oh—what is that? It’s lovely!” Lady Tabuu asked, tearing herself away from the relentless mauling her husband was giving her. “It looks like a jeweled flower!”
“Candied volah blossom,” Elfa said proudly. She plucked one of the jeweled petals off and placed it between her lips. A smile of pure ecstasy crossed her face. “Mmmm—it melts in your mouth! So delicious.”
“So…we’re supposed to make our own dinner using the, er, maker-clay and the intention-realization thingy?” Em asked.
“Exactly so.” Elfa smiled. “Please be careful with the clay, however—it is a precious substance and this is all we have for tonight’s meal. Now, I will give you all eating utensils and leave you to enjoy your dining experience.”
She glided around the table, giving everyone what appeared to be a set of extremely long crystal chopsticks with sharpened points at the ends. Em lifted hers and saw that they were like needles and that the crystal was tipped in silver, making them extra sharp. She knew how to use chopsticks, but it was going to be difficult making certain she didn’t slice her mouth or tongue on these things, she thought.
After Elfa left, everyone at the table sat and stared at the lump of maker-clay. No one seemed to want to go first, but finally Rarev reached out and grabbed a handful. He passed it considerately to Em and then took another handful for himself.
“Thanks.” Em nodded and began working the clay in her hands. What should she make?
As she wondered, she continued to knead the clay and watch as Lord Torrid took some clay for himself and also for Lady Tabuu. He was fondling two of her breasts with two of his hands and working with his maker-clay with the other two, Em saw. She really hoped that Lady Tabuu didn’t start squirting purple liquid again—she was sitting directly across from her.