21

Foreign Festivities

LILLI

This trip was a terrible idea.

I wandered through the crowded streets of Lindel with a scowl, Jewel fluttering at my side. This awful, afternoon sun was still too bright and the small amount of shade my cloak offered wasn’t enough for the harsh glare.

How am I to find Xavier now? I sluggishly walked along the blockade of shifters who’d made way for the parade, my heavy feet shuffling miserably. The bite wound on my leg had begun flaring painfully again. I’d taken my medicated tonic, but the swelling still ached like Death.

Barely a week has past, and I’ve already depleted what little money I’d had, I thought drearily, sighing. Why is everything in this realm so expensive? Our travel fares in Grim are nothing like these prices…

I stopped to give my swollen leg a rest, rubbing the wound under my boot tenderly, the parade marching past in the street.

There was some sort of festival today. Dancers were dressed in gold silks while musicians blurted their trumpets and bugles. Drummers clanked their rims and beat deep vibrations that shook the pit of my stomach; flag bearers strutted past me with gold, brown and purple ribbons that fluttered from their banners, and each section of the parade was separated by a line of Rockraiders who rode on the backs of Landragons.

I’d never seen the other realms’ dragons. The reptilian creatures in front of me had leathery skin that was pimpled in rough pockmarks. They had scrunched snouts with small horns at their peaks, and thin, long ears that bowed to the middle of their backs. They were bipedal with no arms and were dressed in gilded armor, their saddles made of brown leather. They had skinny, wispy tails which mimicked their long ears, waving to and fro while the beasts honked and trotted onward.

From my cultural studies, I’d heard that Landragons secreted a strange ooze from their bumps at times, which had healing qualities when applied to wounds. Healing was one of the Land realm’s Hallows. So, it’s true, I thought with intrigue. For every element of Hallows, there is a dragon of the same type.

The only exception to this rule was the Dream realm’s elements. But that kingdom was on a different physical plane entirely, and so had no dragons. Though, as the King of Dreams would argue, Aspirre’s dragons were the ones we dreamed of in our sleep.

A troop of Footrunners followed behind the Raiders, all on horseback and wearing less beautiful, bronze armor while holding spears. Maidens weaved through the crowd carrying baskets of golden tulips, showering spectators with the petals and handing out woven lays to young girls.

One maiden came and pulled down my hood, placing a tulip behind my ear. She smiled warmly as she brushed back my grey hair, wished me a cheery King’s Day, and pranced to the next woman to do the same.

My stomach echoed with a hollow growl, and I clutched my aching belly. Though the festival was exciting, my hunger was too overwhelming for me to enjoy it. I looked into my Storagesphere, seeing that my shrunken pouch of Mel was flat and empty. I’d used the remaining beads for the train ride here yesterday—and that meant I couldn’t reach Nulani. I was stuck in Lindel now.

I hadn’t seen nor heard from Sir Janson since the last time we met in High Adrial, either. Was he still watching me from somewhere? Perhaps he would have money…

When my stomach gave another groan in protest, I glanced at a merchant booth selling apples with longing eyes. The apples may not have been in season, but they still looked delicious from here.

Something tugged my skirt then.

I glanced down. A small, copper-haired girl had snagged my hem. She had curling sheep horns sprouting from her head and looked at me with wide, brown eyes above a button nose.

She tugged my skirt again, as if asking me to kneel.

I complied and lowered to her. “Yes?”

“Ain’t you the Reaper missy from the screens?” she asked, rocking on her heels.

“Er, yes. I am.” Had everyone seen those reports except me? Perhaps I should pay more attention to the news.

“Why ain’t you with your friends?” Her head cocked curiously. “Did you get lost?”

“Friends? What do you mean?”

“The other Reapers from the screens.” She lifted her tiny hands in a matter-of-fact gesture. “They were all in Nulani. But you ain’t with them.”

Could she mean Xavier? “I… didn’t come with them.” I could only assume Xavier was with a group, since she mentioned multiple Reapers. “But I’m trying to meet them. I simply haven’t enough Mel to travel yet.” Or enough to eat, I lamented in silence.

My stomach screamed again, angry. I had to stop myself from cringing. The beating drums from the parade only made my gut lurch more. “Er, do you know what this festival is about?” I asked, attempting to distract myself.

The girl pointed at a passing flag bearer, directing my attention to the gold and brown banner flapping in the breeze.

“Well yeah,” she said, “everyone knows that. Today’s King’s Day. Mum says a long time ago, the first king of Everland was crowned.”

The flag held a stenciled face of a bearded lion-shifter, wearing a crown that was crested with gold mountains.

“The first king…?” I asked. “Do you mean the first to be crowned after Land’s Relic Bloodline was lost?”

“My mum says there was wars after the continents broke up,” she explained. “Said it was bad times. Then the Arborvokers and Terravokers moved to their own lands. The rock people came here to Everland, and the plant people went to Neverland.” Her chin jerked to the flag again. “Today’s the day King Setthick was crowned as the new ruler, so Mum says we celebrate our ‘declaration of separation’ from Neverland.”

“I see…” What an odd thing to celebrate. Why was it seen as a blessing for a realm to be divided, after a thousand years of peace and unity? I supposed when the Land realm lost their Relic Bloodline, the nation underwent a harsh paradigm shift.

The girl tugged my skirt again, shyly this time. “Um, missy Reaper?”

“Yes?”

She pointed at Jewel, who was perched on my shoulder. “Why’s that birdy following you?”

“Ah.” I scooped Jewel up and presented her to the girl. “She’s my companion. She’s been with me since I was a little girl, just like you. Would you like to hold her?”

The girl’s eyes sparkled, reaching out to take Jewel. My messenger hopped into her palms and chirped, ruffling her feathers and making the girl giggle. “She’s so soft! Where can I get one?”

I chuckled and slipped the gold tulip from my ear, placing it behind hers. “There may already be one looking for you. It simply needs time to find where you are.”

She rubbed Jewel against her cheek, reveling in my crow’s plushness. The girl was called by her mother then, and she gave Jewel back before saying goodbye, curtseying politely, and rushed to find her parents in the crowd.

I rose in a sigh, clutching my stomach as it gave another moan. The apple vendor was still in sight, and I stared at the fruit hungrily. If only I had enough Mel…

“… still not certain of his whereabouts,” a lion-eared woman said as she passed me. She was struggling to keep pace with the burly man pushing through the crowd.

The man had two swords strapped to his back in a cross-shape, his face coated in thick stubble. The woman tripped along behind him, frantic while her lion tail waved behind her. “We have nothing to report to Dream. How long are we to wait before speaking with the boy directly?”

My ears perked. Dream? Does she mean King Dream, of Aspirre?

I followed them, suspicious, watching the man shake his head. “We mustn’t act too soon, Ana,” he said. “Dream’s instructions were to find both of them before explaining anything.”

“Yes, but,” The woman had a meek voice, almost a whisper. “Perhaps the other will show himself after we tell them?”

“We wait. I do not understand what’s happened with those two, but I have a feeling it is something devious, with the way they are hiding. If we confront them now, we may never know. We will wait.”

The woman took a small breath, conceding. “Yes, Kurrick…”

—A passing man hurtled into me, and I stumbled to the ground. My offender had been carrying a bag of produce and wine, and before I could even blink, he rushed off as if he hadn’t noticed me at all. He’d been wearing a doctor’s coat, his face stricken with horror before he disappeared into the crowd, round leopard ears folded down. What on Nirus…?

I pushed myself up to look for the pair of lions, but they’d vanished.

What had they been discussing? Why mention Dream? They didn’t look like Dreamcatchers; the man especially had looked like a warrior. But I supposed looks could be deceiving.

My stomach moaned, crumbling. Hunger forced its way to my attention again, and I gazed at the fruit vendor from before. I was closer now, only a few yards away.

I watched a young, skinny boy slink beside the vendor, shoveling a sack-full of apples without the merchant’s notice. He was a dark-skinned boy, with long, feathered hair and chestnut wings sprouting from his back, a red and black scarf wrapped around his throat, his near-skeletal torso bare.

Once he’d gathered enough apples, hurried as though stocking up on emergency supplies, he flew to the roofs, disappearing with his stolen goods.

Perhaps I can sneak one, also? My stomach groaned encouragingly. Just one. That wouldn’t hurt anyone, would it?

I started for the booth, ducking behind various shifters and flower maidens to hide. Once reaching the booth, I crouched off to the side, staying out of sight from the merchant who was busy chatting with a customer.

Very cautiously, I reached for the first apple, and the minute I snatched it down, I devoured it in a matter of seconds.

Eugh! If I wasn’t so hungry, I wouldn’t have touched this mush. There was barely any juice, it was only a soft, bruised, warm block of grits.

Though, despite the disgusting taste, my stomach still howled. I plucked another apple from the booth, finishing that one and continued with another. With each one finished, my feeding became ravenous—like every bite was a reminder of how little I’ve had to eat, and if I didn’t gulp it down quickly enough, it would disappear. I finished six in mere moments and almost took the last bite of the seventh—

Someone snagged my wrist.

“What we got here?” a man plated in gilded armor barked. He grabbed my other wrist and twisted my arms behind my back, yanking me to my feet. I yelped as he shoved me against the booth to face the merchant. “A little thief, are ya?”

“I-I wasn’t…!” I craned back and caught a glimpse of the sword strapped to my captor’s belt, noticing the badge pinned to his chainmail. Damn it all! A Rockraider.

“Have you got the Mel to pay for all those?” The Raider pointed at the discarded apple cores scattered around me.

“I… I was just going to…” My face warmed as a flock of eyes turned to me from the crowd. I felt like a fool, being forced to bend over the booth. I was glad as Death I’d thought to wear leggings under my short-skirted gown.

“Lasnic,” the Raider called to the merchant, who noticed me now. His face was anything but pleased once he spotted the apple cores at my feet. “Got yourself a pretty little thief.”

The merchant’s arms crossed. “Are you the one that’s been snatching my apples all month? Land’s Blade, I’ve been losing a good chunk of beads because of you.”

“Want me to bring ‘er in?” the Raider asked.

Death, no…! I couldn’t grab my scythe if my arms were held down, and I didn’t wish to physically hurt him with fire, if I could help it… Not only that, but using any other element besides Necrovoking may give me away. Those reports have already shown me as having death Hallows, if they learn I’m also a Pyrovoker, then a dual-Evocator will attract suspicion.

The merchant snorted approvingly. “Lock her up for a long time, yeah. Keep her away from my booth, ‘n everyone else. And looks like she’s been swiping from the richer districts, too. Probably thought she wouldn’t get caught as a foreigner.”

The merchant grasped my chin, turning my head in examination. “Either that, or she’s a runaway out of money. Maybe look up her family name. See if she’s got parents who can pay me back—”

Panicked, I clasped the Raider’s gauntlets behind me, my Death mark gleaming from my collarbone. Seamstress prick me, I can’t be found yet!

Orange fire exploded from my hands.

The Raider hollered in pain, his armor heating, the scent of burning skin simmering under his plate. He screamed and released me, ripping off his gauntlets—but the skin had melted and clung to the metal, peeling off like dripping cheese.

I extinguished my fire, smoke licking around my shaking fingers. “I’m sorry!” I gasped, horrified at his disfigured arms. I grew sick. “I… I’m sorry…!” I bit back tears and dashed away—

Crack!

Something struck the back of my skull, so powerful that my vision went dark, and I collapsed. I could barely hear the fading voice of the Raider above me…

Then I was drowned in silence.