“The bread might be a little stale,” he says as he sets a bowl in front of me. “It was left out.”
“That’s fine. Thank you.” I slide the bowl in front of me. It looks like some sort of vegetable stew and smells amazing. Yet, not surprisingly, I have no appetite.
“You should eat,” Maxon urges, again seeming like his time spent with me can’t end fast enough, and breaks his bread in half. He dips it in the soup before taking a bite.
I had a frozen burrito during my break at work before I died. What a great last meal.
“Why do I have to eat, anyway?” I ask as I pick up my spoon and start to dig in. “If I don’t have a body anymore, doesn’t that mean I don’t need to eat?”
Maxon smirks. “If you were a normal human soul, yes,” he says. “But reapers require a steady diet of spiritual energy in order to survive. The food and drink we eat is conjured from the spiritual energy siphoned from the millions of souls that reside here in the city.”
I frown, staring at my soup. “So…you’re saying this isn’t really soup? That it’s like an illusion or something?”
Maxon shrugs. “Sort of. I’ve never really thought of it like that.”
“Why even bother to make it into food?” I ask, genuinely intrigued. “Why not just consume the energy directly, or drink it like some kind of energy drink?”
“Energy drink?”
“Er, special beverages that humans drink when they’re tired and need a boost.”
“Ah.” Maxon nods. “Well, from what I understand, we used to do that way back in the beginning, but when humans began to refine their palates and were suddenly making all kinds of dishes all over the world, the reapers back then started to get jealous. Someone figured out how to convert the spiritual energy into food so that we can enjoy the same pleasures.”
Weird.Shaking my head, I slurp a spoonful of the stew. You’d think the flavors would be off or something, since reapers don’t eat real food, but this stuff tastes amazing. And in the back of my head, I’m kinda grateful I still get to do normal things like eat and sleep. It’ll make the adjustment way easier.
“So…these houses we’re sorted into,” I say, trying to change the subject.
“What about them?”
“Are we rivals?” I dip my bread into the soup and steal a glance at his handsome face.
“Technically no, but when it comes to points or winning the Soul Cup and Captura, then yes.”
“What’s that?” Hadn’t the headmistress mentioned the Soul Cup, too?
“I’ll explain that later. For now, eat. The sooner we eat the sooner we can go to bed. I’m dead tired.”
The chill I was trying to repress runs down my spine, causing me to shiver.
“Are you cold?” Maxon asks.
“Yeah. I have been since I got here. I think part of it is shock or something.”
“Here.” He stands up and undoes the top clasp of his cloak. He slowly pulls it off and comes around the table, draping it over my shoulders. It’s warm from his body, and smells faintly like the homemade soap I got at the Bristol Renaissance Faire over the summer.
“Thank you.” Once again, I’m bemused by his kindness, followed so closely on the heels of his rude behavior. I almost wish he’d make up his damn mind already. The back and forth is exhausting already.
“It gets chilly in the mess hall once the fires have gone out. The academy is old and drafty.”
“Yeah, I’m beginning to notice that.” I go back to my soup, eating the rest in silence. Maxon clears our dishes, helps me carry my stuff, and starts leading me to the dormitories.
We’ve just stepped out of the mess hall when someone calls my name.
“Addy!”
I whirl around, tearing my eyes away from the large painting of a cloaked horseman riding across a field that’s hanging in the hallway. I know that voice, and it can only belong to one person.
“Cass!”
