“Tonight?” Sokrat asked, looking toward Agathea. “What do you have in mind for tonight’s symposium?”
“A new idea, a new trend in dining for the enlightened,” Agathea said. Her pale, pink eyes were alight with anticipation as she looked at each of us in turn. Her gaze lingered particularly long on Sokrat. “Each of us will speak about a topic of my choosing. What you say will determine the nature of the meal, which will appear upon your plate in front of you.”
I glanced uneasily at my empty plate. I’d heard rumors of Agathea--how she fed upon thought and words as much as food. I hadn’t thought such a thing possible. Agathea often liked to inspire her dinner guests to offer up deeper conversation than the usual polite topics. The deeper the topic, the greater her sustenance. This was why she’d asked Sokrat here.