“Yes, well, I suppose there is room for interpretation. It doesn’t necessarily have to be a Visitor or a virgin, technically, but I would still prefer it that way.”
Jenny was still standing, leaning over the table. “As longs as it’s the right person, the details of who she is or where she comes from shouldn’t matter, should it? If she’s the right girl, she’s the right girl.”
I grabbed the back of Jenny’s shirt and pulled her back into her seat.
“Ignore her,” I told Cheng. “You know what girls are like whenever you mention a wedding. It’s like catnip to them. Drives them nutty.”
All three girls turned to glare at me (Noreen was already glaring at me, so she didn’t count).
“I still have a bunch of questions I want to ask, so let’s leave your nuptials to one side for a moment. Okay?”
This was aimed at the others as much as Cheng, but Cheng was the only one to nod in agreement.
“Good. Can you tell me how old you are, Cheng?”
“I’m fifteen.” It was strange hearing that number come out of such a monstrous and unteenage-like mouth. That’s puberty for you.
“And your mother, where did she come from? I mean, back in our world.”
“A place called Hong Kong. Do you know it?”
“Yes,” I said. “I’ve never been there, but it’s a very famous place.”
“She always claimed she had been brought here by something called the ‘Y2K bug’. Some kind of disease, I believe.”
That would mean she left Earth in 2000.
“And she raised you?”
“Yes, until I was five. Then…”
“Yes, okay.” I didn’t want to go into how she died, not with everyone primed to go off at the slightest provocation.
“May I ask a question?” said Dudley. Flossie had climbed out of his lap and he had been nibbling on what looked like a cob of corn, only bright orange.
“Yes,” said Cheng. “What would you like to know.”
“Did you care for your mother, even though she was human?”
“I did,” said Cheng. “She loved me in whatever form I took, it made no difference to her. She taught me to treat people equally no matter who or what they were, and not to judge by appearances. My father felt she was in danger of making me soft, which is why he killed her.”
A chill went around the table.
“He killed her?” asked Claire.
“Yes, he ate her.” Cheng continued eating as though he’d just mentioned a new restaurant that had opened down the street.
I almost got away with it. So close.
“Don’t freak out,” I said. “Remember if you judge them because they have a different culture to ours, you’re just being racist.”
It was a long shot, I admit, but the last thing I needed was for everyone to start throwing a fit because of the death of a woman we never met.
Nobody said anything for what felt like a long time. His statement was so absurd, and delivered in such a casual manner, that I don’t think it fully registered with them.
“Ah,” said Flossie. “Weren’t you a bit upset?”
“Oh, yes. Of course. At the time, I was inconsolable. But where he came from, it wasn’t considered a terrible thing. By right, he should have eaten her as soon as she gave birth to me, but he allowed her to nurse me and see me grow. For that, I am grateful.”
Did that make it better? Slightly?
“And if we bring you a bride,” asked Jenny, “will you eat her?”
“No.” Cheng looked genuinely offended by the question. “I would never eat my wife.”
I’m not sure how you go about killing an eight foot demon, but apparently you could hurt his feelings quite easily.
The atmosphere around the table slipped into something more apprehensive. Which was odd. You’d think having dinner with a demon would max out your senses, but there’s always room for a little more dread, I guess.
“Can you tell me about the Temple Under the Mountain?” I asked him, hoping to keep things on track. “How does it work?”
“I don’t actually know the mechanics, or who built it, but I can tell you it requires the sacrifice of a Visitor to function.”
“Could it send us back to our world?”
Everyone became much more focused when I asked this question.
“Possibly, although I am unaware of anyone who has tried. I know it allows travel to any place in this world, and the one underneath it.”
“Where your father came from?”
“Yes. It was my mother and her friends who summoned him. They were trying to fulfill the prophecy, or at least their understanding of it.”
“Did they sacrifice one of their own to activate it?” I asked.
“They sacrificed someone, whether it was one of their party or not I do not know. My mother didn’t like to talk about it. In any case, there were rather more sacrifices once my father appeared. My mother was the only survivor.”
The mood around the table had turned somber. Human sacrifices didn’t make for great dinner conversation.
It didn’t bother me if people went around killing each other. Pretty much what I would expect. I pressed on. “What about the spires? Do they work on the same principles as the Temple?”
“Yes,” said Cheng. “That’s how I knew they were active. Gargantua reported a white light that fell from the sky onto the fort. One moment there were thousands of men across the bridge, the next there were none.”
Which would explain where the soldiers had disappeared to, but made little sense otherwise. “Why would they attack their own soldiers?”
“They didn’t attack them. They were priming the weapon for firing. The men were fuel.”
“But they weren’t Visitors,” said Maurice.
“Visitors are the richest source of energy, but if you use enough normal humans it can do the same job. It’s not very efficient though.”
“And what’s their target?” I asked.
“I do not know. It could be anywhere. The only place I know it won’t be is Fengarad.”
“Yes,” I said, and lowered my head to rest on her shoulder, her wrists still held in my hands. It wasn’t particularly comfortable, but at least this way I could keep my eye on her.