“What do I have to do next?” Romana swung back to the Elementals only to discover they had vanished. She was on her own.
Great. What was she supposed to do now?
“Silly child.” Suni’s lilting voice sounded in her ear. “Go right in, of course.”
“Thank you, Suni.” She took one long slow breath in, held it, and let it out. Trying her darnedest not to think about falling through the clouds, she walked toward the gates.
The massive structures dwarfed her and she felt like an insignificant bug. At the foot of the entrance she paused, craning her neck this way and that, trying to spot a latch or some sort of device that would open the gates.
There was none that she could see. Sheesh. Why was nothing ever straightforward? Praying she wouldn’t be smote by a lightning bolt or something, she put her shoulder to the gates and heaved. They swung noiselessly open, and she fell through, sprawling on her hands and knees.
She picked herself up, dusted her butt, and inspected her palms. No grazes. Yay. Awesome entrance, Romana. Very elegant. Not quite how she’d imagined entering the Realm but apparently no one had witnessed her falling on her face. Double yay.
A profusion of colors had her blinking. Oh. She was surrounded by a riot of exotic tropical plants. Okay. Not too surprising given the climate had morphed to uncomfortably warm and humid. She reached for a plant covered with iridescent multi-colored blooms. As she touched a bloom it shivered, and a mass of butterflies took flight.
She caught her breath. The butterflies fluttered through the air, sweeping and surging in some intricate dance until they found another plant on which to settle. Wow. Just… wow. But which way to go? Shrugging, she chose a direction and picked her way through the verdant growth.
At risk of sounding trite, the Realm was peaceful and utterly serene, and it was impossible not to feel relaxed. All her troubles and worries drifted away. The tightness she always carried in her shoulders and neck muscles loosened. She felt energized, alive. It was blissful.
After a while, a sound broke through her pleasant haze—a soft murmur that slowly grew louder, harsher. Before long it caused her physical discomfort, ringing discordantly in her ears, screeching through her teeth, and raising goose-bumps on her skin. The sound was out of place. It didn’t belong in the peaceful, pleasant lushness of the Realm.
Curious, she followed her ears. She rounded the boll of a huge palm tree and stumbled to a halt. The three Elder Gods were shrieking and gesticulating at each other, eyes flashing, faces contorted with anger. The air around them thrummed. Their dispute had taken on a life of its own and it coiled around them, a surging, pulsing mass of violent energy. The noise escalated to unbearable levels and she clapped her hands over her ears.
She felt a tap on her shoulder and whirled to see Marc beckoning. He indicated with a jerk of his chin that she should follow him, and then he strode off. Casting a despairing glance over her shoulder at the still bickering trio, she ran after him.
“Marc! Wait up!” Hands still over her ears, she crashed through the undergrowth, eyes downcast, searching for the path he’d taken. But it was hard to keep her balance with her hands over her ears. Cautiously she removed her hands. The sound was still discordant enough to set her teeth on edge, but now it was bearable. One problem solved.
“Marc!”
“Here.” He materialized in front of her.
She jumped, one hand going to her heart. “I wish you wouldn’t do that! It takes years off my life.”
He grinned at her but it slipped from his face all too quickly, leaving a grim tenseness about his eyes and mouth. He grabbed her hand. “Come with me. I know somewhere quiet we can talk.”
“Won’t they come looking for me?”
“Doubt it. They’re too involved with their discussion.”
She found herself moving smoothly and easily through the undergrowth. Holding Marc’s hand must have transferred some of his abilities to her. Nice. She was about to ask how much further when they burst through into a clearing.
“This is my place. None of the others can enter without my permission.” As Marc spoke his shimmering tunic and trousers melted away, leaving him clad in his favored outfit of ragged denims, t-shirt, and hi-top sneakers.
Romana inhaled deeply and as she exhaled realized she could no longer hear the other gods arguing. She glanced around the clearing. The area looked like an Earth-style Zen meditation garden, complete with artfully placed stones, immaculately manicured shrubbery, and a pebbled dry stream that at second glance had a deceptively simple pattern running through it. “I never imagined you’d be into this sort of thing. Did you create it?”
“Yep. Like it?”
“It’s beautiful, Marc.”
He jerked his chin at a stone bench, worn smooth and polished by the hand of time. “Let’s sit over there.”
She settled herself on the bench, running her palms over the rounded surface and marveling at the craftsmanship. “Wow. This is amazingly comfortable for a hunk of solid stone.”
“Thanks, I worked my arse off to get it that way. How did you get here, Romana? Who brought you to the Realm?”
“The Elementals. It was Chryss’s idea.”
“Why have you come?”
“Because we’re in trouble. You—the gods, I mean—have left us to deal with the wyverna that you created. You won’t help us. You won’t even talk to us anymore!” Anger boiled in her chest and her fingers itched to wrap themselves around his neck and give him a good shaking. She had to take a few deep breaths to calm herself.
He stared at her. “The Elder gods created wyvernas? You’re kidding me.”
“It’s true. Chryss told us they were created because of a bet with the Elementals to prove the gods capable of creating a perfect creature. Chryss helped create them and he helped capture and imprison them. But one escaped. And it’s headed straight for the First Settlement.”
He scrubbed his face with his hands. “So that’s what this is all about. The three of them have been arguing non-stop and I haven’t been able to figure out why. They’ve shut me out and prevented me from leaving the Realm or talking to any of you. They’ve holed up here like they’re—”
“Afraid. They are afraid, Marc. Of this creature they created.”
His gaze raked her face. She felt him probing her mind and she passively allowed him full access.
“Fuck. It absorbs magic? Even our magic?”
“Yes.”
He surged to his feet to pace up and down the path. And then he whirled, the violent movement sending up a shower of small pebbles and disrupting the pattern of the path. His eyes blazed with molten-gold fury. “Idiots. How could they be so bloody reckless and so craven? Why aren’t they down there cleaning up their mess? What’s the point of standing ’round debating what to do, when their people are facing this monster alone? What’s the point of being gods if they’re afraid to face up to what they’ve done? I’m ashamed to be one of them!”
She rose and went to him. She wrapped her arms around his rigid torso, offering what little comfort she could. “It’s not your doing, Marc. You didn’t create this creature.”
A sigh gusted from him as he allowed himself to relax into her embrace. “I’m a god. I’m responsible by default.”
“Chryss feels the same way. That’s why he’s helping us, too.”
He pushed away from her. “You knew I’d help you, didn’t you?”
“We hoped you would. Chryss thinks you’re our best hope. He thinks you might have enough of Earth left in you to give us an edge when we go up against this creature.”
His jaw tightened. “And what do you think, Romana?”
She couldn’t lie. Not about this. “I don’t know, Marc. What I do know is we need all the help we can get. Are you with us?”
“Frickin’ oath I am.”
“Will you get into trouble for leaving the Realm?”
“It’ll probably cause a real shit-storm. Not that I give a toss.” He smiled at her, a genuine cocky Marc-style smile this time. “Mind you I’m not certain how I’m gonna get us out of here. They’ve conjured a pretty impressive barrier to keep me in. I might have use some muscle to break through.” He flexed his biceps in a mock bodybuilder pose.
She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah. You have plenty of physical muscles but it’s the mental ones you need to be flexing right now, okay?”
He grabbed her hand and in a flash they stood before the gates leading from the Realm. “Ready?” he asked.
“Before you go off half-cocked, I got in here no problems. So I wonder.…” She approached the gates and pushed them. They swung open and she walked through. She beamed at him. “See?”
Marc attempted to follow but the instant he got close the gates swung back, closing with an audible clunk. “Not so simple for me, obviously. Time to see how much stronger I’ve become. All that meditating in my garden has got to count for something. Here goes.” He screwed up his face.
She peered anxiously through the ornate bars. She could see his lips moving silently and then the entire structure seemed bathed in a golden nimbus. The gates felt warm beneath her touch. She backed off just as they gave a mighty shudder and bulged outward as though straining against some invisible force.
Back off some more or you might get hurt! Marc’s terse voice sounded in her mind and she took to her heels. She ran a couple of yards and then skidded to an abrupt halt. How far did the influence of the Realm extend? If she moved too far away from the gates, would she fall out of the sky, or something equally disastrous? She sure didn’t feel inclined to experiment. “How’re you doing?” she called.
“Not too well, apparently.”
He was right. Although the gates still bulged outward, they hadn’t opened even the tiniest fraction.
“I have an idea,” she called. “How about you link with me? It might fool the barrier into thinking we’re both me. But if it doesn’t, then I’ll siphon off some of your powers and try to break through them.”
“What’s to stop you taking in too much power? You won’t be able to contain the full power of a deity, Romana. It’ll destroy you.”
“We’ll have to risk it. This is getting us nowhere and I’m worried the other gods will sense what you’re doing and come looking for you.”
The gates shuddered once more and were still. “All right,” he called. “We’ll try it your way.”
She jogged back up to the gates. At her touch, they swung open and she darted through the opening. Marc waited until she was safely through and then made a dive for the opening. Mid-dive he was flung backward and the gates swung shut, trapping him.
“Stubborn idiot,” she muttered.
“Yeah, yeah. You’re up. Just be careful, okay?”
She summoned the ever-hungry power coiled within her. She kept tight rein on it, releasing only the merest trickle. It scented Marc’s aureya and surged from her to rear above him, restrained from striking by her will alone. Her power was a cunning, greedy force, instantly recognizing and responding to those on which it could feed and grow. Like Marc.
As Marc watched closely, Romana’s blue eyes bled to inky black. Even though he’d been expecting the change, he shuddered inwardly as the woman he called his friend morphed into something alien and disturbing.
She held out a hand to him. Link with me, Marc. Let’s try it the easy way first.
He took her hand and opened his mind to her, forcing himself not to recoil as her power lanced through him in an eager rush. Mind-linked, he could sense the immense will it took for her to keep her power in check. To help bolster her control he sent strength and determination down their link.
No! Don’t try to help, Marc. It’s like walking a tightrope—I balance control and will on one side with hunger and lust on the other. Too much control and the power hides away and sulks. And the next time I try to use it, it takes even more of my will to hold it in check.
Shit. He pulled back.
It’s all right. You weren’t to know. Hopian and I have experimented and we’ve found ways to keep it in check but the truth is, I’m pretty much on my own. No one knows how this power will develop. Sometimes I have nightmares it’ll take me over, and the only way to stop it will be to kill me. Or worse, that I might have passed it on to one of my children.
Gods. I’m sorry, Romana. I—
She brushed aside his apology. Let’s give this a go.
Linked physically by their hands and mentally mind-to-mind, they walked toward the gates. In unison they each extended a hand to push open the gates. Romana’s side swung open immediately, while Marc’s opened a couple of inches before halting and rattling indecisively.
Hang on, I’m going to try something else. She invaded his mind, his body, and his soul. Her essence washed through him, leaving a vaguely unclean residue in its wake. She drained some of his power and absorbed it, conducting it through herself and molding it into something entirely different before she returned it to him.
Through their link he could sense her tightly controlled lust—to feed from him, to gorge herself on his limitless power, heedless of the consequences. The thought popped out before he could hide it. So this is what it’s like to be you.
Yes. Monstrous, aren’t I?
He understood her sadness and horror at what she had become. Years of possession by the soul-eater had damaged her during her crucial formative years. That, coupled with a second transformation by the spore, had warped the pure Sehani potential inside her, and twisted it into something grotesque. She was the antithesis of Sehani. Theirs was a bright, clean power. Hers was something murky and dangerous—something to be feared.
They were more alike than she realized. And what does that make me, Romana? According to Chryss I’m a hybrid—of Earth and Dayamaria both. Who knows what I’ll eventually become? Kunnandi jokes I could go mad and obliterate the world. But I’m not going to lose sleep over it—not that I need sleep anymore. I was made this way for a reason. You were, too. So we’ll have to live with it, won’t we?
Thanks for the pep talk.
You’re welcome.
Can you use what I’ve made for you?
Hmmm. He tested it. This thing sure is powerful. It doesn’t like being controlled and told what to do.
Yeah. Tell me about it.
Marc fought his instinctive desire to cast out the filthy blackness boiling inside him and cleanse himself. Instead, he aimed it at the gates. Ready, aim, fire!
Twin strands of darkness burst from them. Marc could sense malevolent purpose seething through the strands as they coiled about the gates, and tightened. The gates creaked and groaned. They creaked open inch by protesting inch.
“Come on!” Romana towed him toward the opening. She turned sideways to edge through the gap, tugging him along behind her. Marc squeezed partway through and then found himself wedged tight, unable to move. The gates held him vise-like.
She yanked on his hand but he didn’t budge. “Cervida-shit!”
He heard the panic in her voice. He grunted and allowed a little more of his power to seep through the mind-link. “Add this to it. Increase what you made for me.”
She grappled with the increase and subdued it to her will. “More,” she demanded.
He gave her more and the gates gave another inch.
She stared at him through eyes that shone with hunger. “Give me more. Now.”
He was still wedged tightly between the gates. He had no choice. He gave her what she asked.
She absorbed it and through the link he felt the power boiling inside her. He sensed an inner struggle, a yearning to give in to the craving that was almost impossible to resist. Then, with a massive flexing of her will, she closed herself off from its demands.
Marc relaxed. She was in control again. She hadn’t taken enough power that she could be corrupted by it.
“Aaaaarrrrggghhhh!” Her shriek caught him by surprise. She had loosed the power within her and as it coursed through her, she rose up on her tiptoes, chest outthrust and head thrown back.
He caught a glimpse of the gloating triumph lurking behind those eerie black eyes and for the first time since he’d become a god Marc felt true fear. Then, before he could react, she slammed what she’d taken back through him.
He screamed. Power surged from his body, licking the gates with gouts of sizzling black fire. They shivered… and then gave way, swinging open just enough for him to squeeze through. She’d done it. He was free!
Congratulatory words died on his lips as he focused on Romana’s limp form. He scooped her up and probed her mind. His heart thudded a rapid tattoo as horror took hold. Oh, gods. No. “No!”
Her consciousness had fled, taking refuge in some lightless limbo she’d constructed. He probed it but it was solid and impervious to his tentative attempts to pierce it. Gods help him, he didn’t know how to make her whole again without destroying her fragile human mind.
~~~
Romana hadn’t returned and neither had Chryss. Hope dampened her fear that something had happened to her daughter. She stood on the rise overlooking the burial grounds and swept her seer-senses over the far reaches of First Settlement’s borders and beyond. She sought energy fluctuations and surges that might indicate a mass release of energy, as happened when a large number of animals died at once. Anything, in fact, that might give advance warning and—
Wait. She honed in on a surge of power descending from above. The breath she’d been holding spilled from her in a rush. Not the wyverna—
Marc!
She tracked the familiar signature, noting where it landed, and willed herself to it. Her nose twitched at the familiar odors of herbs and salves. The Healing Hall. She heard a sharp intake of breath from the healer on duty. “What’s wrong?” she asked, fear crawling over her skin and burrowing toward her heart.
“It’s Romana,” Marc said.
No. Please. “Where is she?” The words almost strangled in her throat.
“She’s here. I’m… I’m carrying her.”
Heart in her mouth, Hope scanned him from head to toe. Ah. Now she could detect another presence, but nothing familiar, nothing she recognized as her daughter. “How’s she managing to block me?” she muttered.
“She’s not blocking you, Hope.”
The truth of it slammed into her. Oh gods. “What have you done to my daughter?”
“If the Dayamari believed in hell,” Marc whispered hoarsely, “then she’s been there and back to get me here. Can you help her? Please help her.”
Healer Symon elbowed her aside. He’d known her too long to be in awe of her. “Put Romana here, Marc,” he said. “Let me take a look at her.”
Hope listened to the sounds of an experienced healer examining a patient. She bit her lips to keep from whimpering, and pressed her fists to her abdomen, willing the panic to stay contained. She couldn’t afford to give in to it. Not now. Not when there was so much at stake.
“Well?” she demanded.
“Physically she’s fine,” Symon said. “But she’s not responding to any external stimuli. My best guess is that she’s suffered some sort of severe mental trauma and she’s retreated inside herself for protection—to give her spirit time to heal. I suggest you call your son immediately. Ryley’s knowledge of these things is remarkable. In the meantime we need to keep her hydrated. I wish there was more I could offer but—”
“I know. Thank you.”
Marc made a choking sound. His pain and guilt smacked her like a well aimed body-blow.
“Show me what happened to her,” she said, her tone leaving him no room for argument.
He planted the knowledge in her mind and Hope clenched her fists at her sides as the rage surged. She rode it and conquered it. And hated herself for not being able to give in to tears and anger and grief like any normal parent. Again it was a choice that had been forced upon her—just like this choice had been forced on Romana… and had damaged her terribly.
The weight of her years pressed down on her. She slumped on the edge of the sleeping platform and reached out with a shaking hand to caress her daughter’s face. “Romana? Sweetling? Are you in there?” She probed her daughter’s mind again but sensed only a foggy-gray emptiness. She drifted, searching for some spark of life that would give her hope.
She found it eventually, a tiny crystalline sphere Romana’s psyche had formed and retreated into in a desperate effort to protect itself. There was nothing she or anyone could do. It was up to Romana now.
Sighing, she brushed a stray lock of hair back from her daughter’s forehead and rose to her feet, locking her knees to stay upright. She didn’t even have the energy to rage against Chryss for sending Romana into danger. He’d done what he had to—just as she’d always done. “Come, Marc. We have plans to make.”
“You’re just going to leave her there? Like that?”
His horror slashed at her but she kept her face neutral and her voice matter-of-fact. “Yes. She’ll come back when she’s ready to face the world again.” Or not. “We don’t have time to sit here holding her hand. The threat the wyverna poses is our priority right now.”
He battered her with a roiling mass of emotions but she stood firm beneath them. She, of all people, understood his helplessness. And she could imagine the way he was looking at her right now. With disgust and horror and hatred… for forcing him to confront the stark truth and choose the good of the many over one dearly loved. Sometimes it was a blessing to be blind.
She laughed—a harsh and unpleasant sound. “I’m Sehani. My responsibility is to the people of this settlement. I do what I have to. Get over it.”
She noted the change in his aureya, acceptance washing away everything but cold logic and intensely focused resolve. “Good,” she said. “Scan the area. Meet me at the burial grounds when you’re done and we’ll talk.” She vanished.
Marc stared down at his best friend and the first casualty in a battle against a creature that should never have come to be. He ground his teeth until his jaw ached. How could the gods have been so arrogant to believe they could design a creature to surpass Mother Nature’s creations? If he’d been a god back then he would never have done such a thing. Never!
A tiny seed of truth flowered with the shameful truth. He had no right to judge his fellow gods. If he’d been a god at that moment in time he’d have agreed to it, too. The idea—the challenge—would have been irresistible.
“Marc?” Healer Symon was tugging at his arm, trying to catch his attention.
“Sorry, Symon. You were saying?”
The healer’s eyes shone with tears. “Thank you for helping us.”
Marc got his act together and inclined his head. “I’m a god. It’s what I do.”
~~~
Creatures were dying. Marc could sense it, feel it. He traced the trail of terror and agony to its end until he hovered above a large patch of ground littered with hunks of torn, bloody flesh and shattered bone. An entire herd of buffalas reduced to raw meat. Not a single one left alive. Even a pack of wolves that had been misfortunate enough to be targeting a calf when the wyverna struck had been systematically slaughtered.
The air should have been seething with multi-colored swirls of death-energy that only a god or Sehan could see, but it was strangely barren. Like it had been absorbed.
Marc shook off his unease to focus on tracking the wyverna. He had to take the utmost care to hide his presence from the creature. He couldn’t afford to be taken out this early in the game.
Through his psychic link to Hope, he showed her what he’d Seen. He maintained the link, observing as groups of people winked into view around her. Chryss brought the trackers, Hopian the hunters, and Ryley any other able-bodied man or woman willing to wield a weapon.
Hope conjured a screen of light and used it to replay what he had shown her. The Dayamari watched in silence. Marc didn’t blame them. It was horrifying stuff.
“It’s following the course of the river,” he heard Blayne say. “If it takes to the water we’re in trouble. It’ll be able to swim to the very heart of the settlement.”
Shit. Blayne was right.
Hope’s voice sounded in his mind at the same time as she spoke aloud for the benefit of those listening. “Marc, I need you to confront it directly. Put yourself in its path and try to drive it away from the river. If you don’t succeed then get back here immediately. I’ll need your help to evacuate everyone to the Second Settlement.”
“Gotcha.” Here goes nothing. He latched on to the wyverna’s energy signature and transported himself directly into its path. He hung in mid-air for a split second, waiting, making sure it had his scent. And then he disintegrated his essence, only to reappear on the ground below.
The creature descended and landed a few feet away. That landing had been far more graceful than he’d believed possible given its size. Its nostrils flared. A forked tongue darted out, scenting the air.
“Here kitty, kitty.” Marc clicked his fingers and made smooching sounds with his lips as he swung into motion and sauntered away. “Come to Daddy.”
Its wedge-shaped head followed his progress. The glint in its half-lidded blood-red eyes snaked a chill down his spine but his apparent fearlessness intrigued it enough that it hesitated…. And then Marc sensed a change. Curiosity was swallowed by the urge to kill and it launched toward him, lashing out with its talons. A sharp pain bloomed in his thigh as he instantly transported himself farther down his chosen path.
Damn it was quick. He smooched loudly again, goading it. The wyverna lunged again, and this time it was so blindingly quick Marc was forced to dissolve his corporeal body to escape further injury.
Safe on another plane of existence, he watched the creature jerk to a halt on the exact spot where he had been standing. Its hide seemed to shimmer and brighten, and a cold sinking feeling wormed into Marc’s gut. He knew instinctively what he was witnessing. The wyverna was absorbing the dispersing power he’d emitted when he dissolved his physical form. Gods give him strength.
It sniffed the ground, swiped its tongue over it. That cold feeling in his gut turned to a block of ice. It was licking blood from the ground. His blood.
He resumed his corporeal form again, taking care to put twice as much distance between himself and the wyverna as he had previously. It was still sniffing the ground, making sure it lapped every last droplet of his blood. He glanced down at his leg. Slashed, bloodstained denims greeted him, and beneath, torn, bleeding skin. Why had the gash not healed?
Marc! Watch out!
He had just enough time to register Hope’s voice and glance up before the wyverna was on him. Its weight and the momentum of its attack bowled him over. He screamed when its claws punched into his abdomen but had enough presence of mind to grab its jaws and force them shut before its dagger-sharp fangs could rip his face off. Only his inhuman strength kept those jaws shut as its feral eyes burned into his.
The claws knifed deeper into his gut. He curled his spine, working his knees into the slight gap beneath the wyverna’s body, seeking purchase with his feet. He rocked up onto his buttocks and then lunged backward, kicking out his bent legs with all his strength. The wyverna sailed over his head and Marc scrambled to his feet. Panting, he pressed his hands to the puncture wounds in his stomach, willing them to heal, waiting for it to attack again.
Hope appeared beside him and hooked his arm over her shoulder while slinging her arm about his waist. “Quickly, dear!” a voice trilled. “Get him away from there!”
Heeding the warning, Hope winked them both away just as the wyverna pounced. The snapping sound its jaws had made and its howl of frustration echoed in Marc’s mind, trailing him to the Healing Hall.
~~~
A disembodied voice sighed heavily in a thoroughly put-upon manner. “Goodness, that was cutting it rather fine. Another second and it would have had them both.”
“So that’s the creature causing all the fuss and bother,” another voice said.
And a third piped up with, “A pretty thing… considering.”
Three beings shimmered into view. Enraged, the wyverna shrieked and launched at them… only to smack into an undulating column of water that simply burst before reforming, unharmed.
“Oooh!” Regni said. “That tickled.”
The wyverna retreated, gagging and coughing up water that had been forced into lungs now accustomed to breathing air. It eyed them balefully.
Vindra crowed with delight. “Oh look, it wants to play.”
“It does seem that way,” Suni said.
“I wonder how it would feel about being frozen,” Regni said. “Shall we see?”
“But what about our schedule? If we spend time playing with this creature we risk disrupting the weather patterns,” Suni said.
“And your point is?” the wind Elemental challenged.
“Oh, go ahead then. It’s been such a long time since we had any real fun. This world will cope with a little variety in its weather patterns, I’m sure.”
The wyverna was gathering itself to launch another attack when it was blasted by a howling, icy wind that lowered the ambient temperature to below freezing. When the wind ceased it was encased in a block of ice.
Suni shimmied over to peer at it. “Goodness. It’s still alive in there, Vindra. And it’s chewing through the ice.”
“Persistent beastie. We’ve got some time before it frees itself. Any idea what you might like to try, Suni?”
Suni thought for a moment, and then its form brightened with suppressed glee. “I believe I might try a popular Earth-style entertainment that young Marc mentioned.”
“And what might that be?” Regni asked.
“If I remember rightly, which of course I always do, then it’s called a bar-be-cue. And I’m thinking of inviting our dear wyverna to be the main course.”
~~~