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AURORA MUST HAVE LOOKED like a mummy when she opened her eyes the next morning. Not even the cave could protect her from last night’s sandstorm. She had sand in her hair, sand in her clothes, sand up her nose. Like a wet dog, she tried to shake off the sand.
As soon as she rose, she quickly grabbed the wayspinner. She turned the dial several times, but nothing happened.
“Piece of junk!” she shouted, angrily stuffing it into a hidden pocket in her underskirt. When she reunited with Meg, she would have to pretend she didn’t hate the wayspinner. She would have to pretend it wasn’t a major source of frustration.
Aurora pulled off one of her slippers and turned it upside down. Sand trickled out of the heel like an hourglass. She repeated the process with her other shoe and, feeling more discouraged than ever, she set off in search of civilization.
Her stomach grumbled, begging for a breakfast that was impossible to come by. The sun was scorching; every crease of her body was covered in sweat, and the sand was hot against her paper-thin slippers. After a half-hour of blazing heat and hunger, Aurora was ready to roll onto the ground and welcome death. Fortunately for her, it never came to that. As she plodded forward, she could hear the buzz of society in the distance, and she followed her ears to her destination.
The sights and sounds of Ohma, as it was called by the locals, was an assault on Aurora’s senses. A cacophony of shouting and haggling could be heard from the bazaar, where shiny trinkets winked at her as she passed. Hungry as she was, she was nearly bowled over by the scent of food—of meat pies, fresh bread and kabobs. Her mouth watered at the thought of a juicy orange to sink her teeth into, or maybe an apple.
Aurora approached a stall where heaps of fresh fruit were on display. As she reached for an apple, she was reminded of a tiny problem when the fruit monger barked, “That’ll be tuppence, Miss.”
This wasn’t the same as picking fruit in the forest.
For several seconds, Aurora stared at the shiny apple in her hand. And with a heavy heart, she had to say goodbye to it. She placed it on a pile with the rest of the fruit and continued on her way, her stomach growling in protest.
She wondered what would happen if she was stuck here for several days. Would she end up a beggar on the streets? Would she starve to death? She tried to push the worst case scenario out of her mind.
There was a fountain in the middle of the bazaar, which seemed a bit out of place amid the hustle and bustle. A statue, an unmistakable likeness of the emperor, spewed an endless stream of water from his mouth. “It should be poison coming from his mouth,” Aurora grumbled to herself as she sat on the edge of the fountain. She dipped her hands in the water and, cupping them, she brought them to her mouth for a drink. As parched as she was, the cleanliness of the water never crossed her mind. Cool water never tasted so good.
She sat beside the fountain for several minutes, watching people jostle and barter. She watched a couple of boys run by with huge, blue kites as their little sister begged them to wait for her. She watched a baker drop a loaf of bread on the ground, pick it up, dust it off, and place it back on the shelf for sale. She watched a monkey perform tricks for pennies.
But Aurora didn’t realize that someone was watching her.
“You look forlorn, my dear.”
An extremely old woman, whose face was like a weathered crag, had settled her gaze on Aurora. “Are you talking to me?”
“Yes, dear,” the old woman confirmed. “You look as though you’re a bit lonesome.”
And it was true. Everything around her was so alive, and yet she’d never felt more alone. “Well... maybe.”
“A pretty girl like you shouldn’t frown so much. What’s gotten you so down?”
Aurora laid a hand over the wayspinner in her pocket. “Well, it’s a long story, and it’s kind of hard to explain.”
“Oh dear. It sounds like you’ve been through a lot. I have something that might make you feel better, dear.”
Mary always told her to beware of crones bearing gifts, particularly apples. As hungry as she was, Aurora knew better than to accept any foodstuffs from the old lady—if, of course, that was what she was about to offer. “I don’t think anything would make me feel better.”
“Not even...a magic urn?” From behind her back, the old woman pulled out a tarnished, silver, oblong urn. “For $19.95, it can be yours today!”
So the old woman had wandered over from the bazaar? “Actually, I don’t have any money.”
“In my experience, when someone says they don’t have any money, they actually have some money, they just don’t know what to do with it. I should tell you about the amazing qualities of this urn! It might not look like much, but it holds incredible power. And even if it wasn’t magical...” the woman held it up to the sunlight, “look at this craftsmanship! The fine handle, the etchings on the rim. If you rubbed it down with a bit of oil, I think the luster would—”
“Actually,” Aurora interrupted, “When I say I don’t have any money, I mean I don’t have any money.”
“Ah, you poor girl.” The woman laid a wrinkled, liver-spotted hand on Aurora’s shoulder. “I understand where you’re coming from. And because I feel sorry for you, I’ll lower the price to $13.59...today only!”
“I’m sorry, but I can’t afford it.”
“$11.95?”
“You seem like a sweet woman, but I honestly can’t afford it! I’m sorry!”
The lady sat on the edge of the fountain next to Aurora. She was silent for several seconds, which made Aurora think she might have given up on her sales pitch.
“A hot day, isn’t it?” the old woman asked, tugging at the collar of her perspiration-soaked dress.
“Yes, very!”
“So... $9.95?”
Aurora was saved from further haggling by the sudden squeaking of a bugle, and a collective cheer from everyone in the bazaar.
Even as an outsider, Aurora could tell that something important was happening. Everyone was lining up along the dusty road that wound through the bazaar. The presence of drums, several of them, could be felt in the vibrating ground. The bugle continued to play, drowning out the tweeting of a piccolo.
“What’s going on?” Aurora asked the old woman.
“Ah, this is a momentous occasion indeed!” With an excited cluck, the woman rose to her feet with surprising vigor for one of her years. She clutched the urn to her chest and motioned for Aurora to come with her. “Quick, we need find a good vantage point!”
“What is it? What are they celebrating?”
When Aurora got up, the old woman grabbed her by the elbow and steered her to the edge of the crowd. “It’s the Every Day Parade!”
“The... Every Day Parade?” Aurora was unmoved. “You mean it happens every day?”
“Of course it does!” The crowd seemed to part for the old woman as she tried to squeeze her way to the front.
“If it happens every day, how can it be momentous?”
The old woman shot the strangest look in Aurora’s direction, as if she couldn’t believe anyone would ask such a ludicrous question. “We get to see the emperor! How could it not be momentous?”
“The emperor? That clown of an emperor?” The old woman didn’t acknowledge what she said; either that, or she couldn’t hear her above the approaching music. Raising her voice, Aurora asked, “What’s this parade for?”
“For the emperor, of course!”
“Just for the emperor?”
“Yes, of course!”
“So the emperor has a parade in his honor... every... single... day?” Aurora spoke slowly because she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “And everyone gets excited to see him... every day?”
“Of course we do! The Every Day Parade is the most exciting part of the day!“ Somewhere down the line, another outburst of cheering erupted. “Oh, he must have arrived!”
“Oh... how joyous,” Aurora uttered sarcastically. She hoped she wouldn’t have to see him again, but it seemed she wasn’t going to be so lucky.
“He’s such a handsome young man, isn’t he? And so perfect!”
Aurora had to roll her eyes. “Yes. Perfectly rude. Perfectly obnoxious...”
A few minutes later, Aurora could see a giant, horse-drawn float drifting in their direction. The horses’ manes were curled, their coats shining. Sure enough, the emperor sat on a throne at the center of the float, and from his ostentatious seat, he pasted on a smile and waved to his admirers. As the float drew near, Aurora swore the old woman was going to die from excitement—and everyone else too. The emperor’s popularity was nauseating.
“If only they knew...” Aurora whispered to herself as an image of a large stuffed bear flashed through her head.
All of a sudden, the emperor’s steeds let out a sharp, collective whinny. In the middle of the parade, a small boy, who could have been no more than seven years old, ran up to the float. Dressed in rags and covered in soot, the little boy bravely addressed his liege.
“Please, sir!” the boy beseeched. “Please, won’t you listen?”
The emperor turned up his nose at the boy and looked around for his guards.
“My mum is ill, my dad can’t work! I’ve got seven brothers and sisters, and there’s no one to feed us. Please, you have to help us!”
The emperor paid no attention to what the boy was saying; rather, he was appalled that his precious parade had to suffer such a hitch. “Guards!”
The crowd was silent as they watched the spectacle.
“Please, sir,” the boy continued. “Just a few coins! I could get some medicine for my mum. I could—”
The boy didn’t have a chance to finish his plea. Two guards seized him by the collar of his soiled shirt and lifted him off the ground.
“What would you have us do with him, Your Highness?”
“Oh, what do I care?” The emperor flicked a wrist to show his disinterest in the situation. “Throw him in the dungeon. Whatever.”
The guards stepped aside to let the float pass, and the people cheered. Aurora couldn’t believe her ears. The people were actually pleased by this? She knew she was already in a heap of trouble, but it wasn’t in her nature to look away when something displeased her.
“Your Highness!” Aurora leapt out in front of the horses before they had a chance to move. Predictably, the crowd booed.
The emperor nearly fell out of his throne when he saw her. “YOU AGAIN?!”
“How can you be so heartless? This poor boy!” Aurora grabbed the little boy by the hand and pulled him away from the guards, who put up no resistance. “You have that grand palace, and you sit there on your golden throne, and this poor child doesn’t have a penny to spare for his sick mother! How dare you!”
“How dare YOU criticize me!” the emperor shrieked. “You, woman, are more insolent that I thought!”
“I might be insolent, and I might regret this later, but do you honestly think—” Aurora had to pause because someone in the crowd lobbed a tomato at her. Before it pelted her, she caught it in mid-air and handed it to the boy. “Do you honestly think you’re doing the right thing? Do you even think at all?”
“Nice catch,” the emperor praised her.
“It’s obvious that everyone loves you,” Aurora went on, “but don’t you think they’d love you even more if you showed a little kindness every now and then?”
“Yes... and maybe you should exercise some restraint, little girl.”
The hairs on the back of Aurora’s neck went rigid. Oh, how she loathed him! He made Prince Charmaine look positively charming!
Aurora wrapped an arm around the boy’s back. “Maybe, at the very least, you could think twice about having him thrown in jail?”
The emperor grinned at her. She thought he’d look better with his teeth knocked out. “Maybe you’d like to take his place?”
“Please, sir!” It was the boy who spoke. “Please don’t do anything to the nice lady!”
The emperor sat back in his throne, arms crossed, and his eyes danced over the crowd as he assessed the situation. “It would be best to resolve this without further incident. That way, we can resume the parade. I don’t want any more interruptions, but at the same time, I don’t want anyone to make a fool out of me.”
Aurora sighed. “I’m not trying to make a fool out of you.” You are a fool, her thoughts echoed.
“Very well.” Sighing, the emperor dipped a hand into a pocket, pulled out a few gold coins, and flicked them in the boy’s direction. The coins landed at the boy’s feet, and he collected them with an excited gasp. “You should be glad I’m a man who likes to give second chances...or third chances, as your case may be.”
“Thanks.” Without another word, and without giving the emperor a chance to change his mind, Aurora grabbed the little boy, steered him to the edge of the crowd, and held her breath until the float was out of view.
When the parade was over, the crowd departed. The little boy tugged at Aurora’s dress to get her attention, thanked her for saving him, and scampered off to find his family. To Aurora’s surprise, the urn lady found her again. The old woman was certainly tenacious.
“That was very brave,” the woman commended. “Brave... but stupid.”
Aurora spun toward the old woman, ready to defend her actions. “I couldn’t just stand there while that poor excuse for a ruler threatened to put that child in prison! He should have more regard for those who are less fortunate than he is!”
“Be that as it may, no one ever stands up to the emperor. No one ever feels the need to do so. We all love him.”
Aurora rolled her eyes in disgust. “Well, that much is obvious!”
“He’s a good and righteous man... really, he is!” the old woman insisted. “But I was impressed with what you did. Here.”
She held out the urn to Aurora, who looked at it with a frown. “I already told you... I can’t buy it.”
“No, I’m giving it to you.” When she didn’t accept it right away, the woman practically shoved it in her face. “I need to get it off my hands. It’s of no use to me anymore.”
And neither did Aurora have any use for it, but she couldn’t refuse. She took the old woman’s gift and forced a smile. “Are you sure?”
“Very sure.” As she stepped away from Aurora, she left her with a piece of advice. “And I wasn’t lying when I said it was magical. Just give it a rub... you’ll see what I mean.”