by Indie Gantz
“Mommy, carrots hard!” The little girl tries to bite into the carrot, but scrunches her nose with frustration. “Carrots hard!”
“All right, hold on,” the woman replies patiently. She holds out the hand not currently cradling her baby, and places it over her daughter’s carrots. A second later, she lifts her hand back up and steam rises from the carrots. “Okay, they’re softer now. Don’t eat them yet. Too hot.” The child smiles up at her mother and picks up a piece of chicken to eat. The woman starts fussing with the infant, putting him over her shoulder and patting his back again.
I take this as my opportunity to disengage and keep my eyes on my food. I start eating as quickly as digestion will allow and plan my exit. I’ll need to get a plate to bring to Tirigan, which will give me a good excuse to leave. The woman seems occupied anyway, finishing her own meal while she tends to her children.
I scarf down the rest of my meal and finish off my drink as I stand up. Looking around, I don’t see a place to put my plate, but the mother saves me yet again.
“Just leave it there. They come by and collect them.”
“Oh,” I reply, placing my dishes back on the table. “Thanks.”
I give her a smile and start my way back to the table of food to grab Tirigan some dinner. The announcement had mentioned being able to package the meal, but I don’t see the means to do so.
Just then, a familiar face walks through the door between the two buffet style tables. Finn nearly bumps into me as he hustles through the door with a stack of plates, and I jump out of the way at the last second to avoid catastrophe.
“Charlie!” Finn says with a wide smile. “Good to see you again!” He places the plates down on the table next to the first tray of food. “Hungry?”
“No,” I answer quickly. “Thank you, but I already ate. I actually was hoping to bring my brother some dinner.”
“That’s my job, little lady.” He tips an invisible hat at me, and I’m not sure if I’m annoyed or charmed. “What’s your brother want? I’ll have it boxed up and bring it back to him. What car are you in?”
“Oh, I can do it,” I respond, waving him away. “He’s really picky about food, and I wouldn’t want to put you through that.”
Finn eyes me carefully, and then nods. “Okay, hold on. I’ll grab a box.” I thank him, and he disappears back behind the door he came through. I take a few looks out the window as I wait, but I don’t see anything new. Just ocean.
The woman I basically had dinner with is cleaning up her toddler’s face, and the little one’s shrieks of disapproval make me feel another pang of sympathy for the woman. Having to travel by yourself with two small children has to be difficult. Hopefully there’s someone waiting for her at the festival.
Finn returns with a brown box and a disposable cup. I thank him again.
“Not a problem. Can’t let your brother starve, can we?” When I only give him a quick shake of my head, afraid if I open my mouth I might make a comment about his own apparent starvation, Finn continues. “I got to catch this pod at the last second. Thought I’d have to wait till tonight, but there was space, and I wore Silva down. I get the tickets for free if I work on the ride.”
“That’s nice,” I reply politely.
Finn places his hands on his hips and gives me an expectant look. It takes me a few moments to realize he intends to stick around while I fill Tirigan’s dinner box. I suppress a displeased glare. Turning around to start filling Tirigan’s plate with vegetables and starches, I avoid the meat and make sure none of the foods are touching.
“No chicken?” He asks, much closer to me than he was moments before.
“Um, no,” I respond, taking a step back. “Tirigan doesn’t eat animals.” I close up the box and fill Tirigan’s cup with water.
“My mom was like that,” Finn offers, his eyes going soft but also sad. He leans against the buffet table, likely getting salad dressing on the back of his shirt. “Dad hated it.”
Something about the way he’s talking to me feels too familiar, and it makes me a little uncomfortable. I need to keep my guard up. I can’t let myself be fooled into casual conversation that leads to me saying something stupid and revealing us for the frauds we are.
“Well, I’m going to get this to Tirigan,” I inform him, backing away slowly enough not to be rude, but fast enough to make my intention clear. “It was nice to see you again, Finn.”
He looks a little confused for a second, but that’s quickly replaced with a wide smile. He crosses his arms and continues to lean back on the table.
“Yeah, you too. You guys have a good night.”
“Thanks.” I give him another smile and then turn around and head for the other door with Tirigan’s dinner in my hands.
The mother has managed to corral her toddler to the other side of the table, and is now working her way towards the door as well. I quicken my pace so I can hold it open for her with my elbow. She thanks me as she passes.
I chance a look back at Finn as I make my way through the doorway. He’s still looking at me. His smile seems genuine enough, but there’s a look in his eyes I don’t recognize. It isn’t hostile or threatening in any way, but it does unnerve me some. I throw him a wave anyway, and he returns it. But even when the door is shut between us, I can still feel his eyes on me.
◆◆◆
I wake up the next morning to see the train hovering over the ground once more. I let out a silent sigh of relief.
Tirigan seemed rather unaffected when I told him where we were the previous night. I, however, severely disliked knowing we were traveling over open waters and not knowing when we’d see land again. I didn’t have to fret for too long about it, because I fell asleep soon after coming back from the dining hall.
We spend the next two days studying and practicing minor casts behind our privacy curtain. Tirigan joined me in the dining pod for a few meals, but we usually brought packaged food back to our little area.
On the third day, I eat lunch in the dining pod alone. Tirigan stays behind, completely absorbed in the Fotiá chapter of our history book. Thankfully, I don’t have to speak to anyone over lunch. I don’t see Finn or the woman I sat with the other day, which is two different kinds of relief. By the time I am back at our pod, a voice comes from beside me. Except, no one is standing there.
“We will begin our final approach into San Antonio in the next ten minutes. Please have your personal belongings packed and ready to leave the train. Thank you.”
I look between our area and the older couple’s, towards the large window between the areas. The train is moving quickly, but I can still make out the terrain.
Incredibly tall and sturdy trees are scattered across dry, brown dirt. There are signs of human history, dilapidated buildings that have various forms of plant life growing in and around them. Some rubble piles are larger than others, a few even boasting a still-standing wall made of stone. I watch as the land becomes covered with long-forgotten homes and businesses.
I turn away and look out the window on the opposite side of the pod. This landscape is much different. It’s wide open, the bright green grass cut and trimmed to perfection. Through the train window, I see large, colorful tents billowing slightly in the wind. They’re scattered around the field, large enough to hold probably a hundred people each.
People walk between the tents and among six rows of booths arranged in a sort of triangular pattern. After reading about the festivals, I know the booths are where Téssera buy and sell goods they’ve made themselves. That’s where we can stock up on some of the things we’ll need to survive in Mitéra. More clothing is a must, and maybe some jewelry too. Everyone seems to wear some sort of jewelry with elemental stones attached to them.
I take a step back from the window and prepare myself for what’s next. We’ve made it to the solstice festival. Next, we find Kori Lark.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Matter of Britain
When we get off the train, Tirigan and I f
ollow signs for the festival’s campsite. A walking path leads away from the train station and around the outskirts of the festival. Wooden posts with arrows drawn on them rise from the ground as we walk down the path.
People walk beside us, all of them going in different directions. The energy is cheerful and anticipatory. I try to match my facial expressions to those I see around me, but Tirigan’s noticeably tense. He weaves deliberately through the crowd, never allowing contact. His thumb and pointer finger rub together at his side. He says nothing.
A few young boys are running up ahead, tossing stones back and forth and dodging other festival goers. People laugh even as they’re being bumped into, and the boys run harder and faster towards the wooded campsite.
We don’t have a tent. We had to leave our sleeping bags with John.
I know. I don’t— As I’m about to tell Tirigan we’ll have to rough it and sleep under a tree somewhere, I see a hut just ahead. It’s a large wooden structure with an open window in the front. There’s a sign above it claiming to have tents and sleeping bags for rent. We’re in luck. I point out the hut to Tirigan and he sighs with a mixture of relief and distaste.
Sleeping in a bag that countless others have before me. Wonderful.
I laugh and give Tirigan a proud smile. “Sarcasm!” I place my hand over my heart and pretend to wipe tears out of my eyes with the other. “They grow up so fast!”
Besides a massive eye roll, Tirigan ignores me and leads us towards the hut.
◆◆◆
It doesn’t take us long to rent a campsite, tent, and sleeping bags. We joined the line just before the rush of train riders arrived, and when we step away from the hut with our things, the queue had grown exponentially.
At least we didn’t have to wait in that. Tirigan nods in response.
He continues to lead the way through the woods to our marked-off campsite. It’s small, just enough room for our tent and a fire pit, but it’s enough. People around us are busy setting up their tents or cooking themselves some lunch, so we practice invoking our elements some more while setting up our site. Tirigan decided he would claim Aéras as his public element, since he felt he had the most control over it. I still haven’t decided on my own, but I’m limited to Gi and Aéras. Those are the only two I could have used to open the crib on the train. I’m tempted to go with Gi since Tirigan chose Aéras. It would be better to have both at our disposal in public.
Tirigan sets up the tent by manipulating the air element, and it takes him twice the time it would if he’d set it up by hand. By the time the last pole is up and in the ground though, he has greater control than when he started. I unroll our sleeping bags and place the green duffel in the corner of the tent.
We should probably get to the festival now. Start looking around for Kori.
Through the tent’s opening, I can see Tirigan openly staring at a group of people at the campsite across from ours. Two young men are tossing a ball back and forth without the ball ever touching their hands. A younger girl lies on the ground under the game and pushes the ball high into the air, altering its course when she can. The game looks interesting, but I’m not exactly sure of the point.
Hey, stalker, knock it off, I chastise playfully. Tirigan turns his head towards me and gives me an exasperated look. We’re supposed to be fitting in. You being a creeper doesn’t help with that.
I open the duffle bag and pull out the bag of basic casting stones and the necklace Calla left for Kori. I place them both in by backpack, replacing the knife set and stack of books I brought. I put those in the green duffle and zip it back up.
I wasn’t being a... creeper. I don’t even know what that is.
Laughing, I climb out of the tent, pulling my backpack on my back. Never mind. We should go.
Tirigan looks annoyed as he places his backpack inside the tent. I assume you packed the stones and the necklace?
You assume right.
Fine. Let’s go. Tirigan zips up the tent and then turns back to me.
All right, lead the way...“Creeper.”
◆◆◆
The very first thing we see walking up from the west side of the festival is a man blowing fire out of his mouth as squealing children crowd around him. I do my best not to show the amazement I feel. He’s spitting out some sort of liquid as he does it, but the lit Fotiá stone in his hand comes nowhere near the liquid. The flames pour out of his mouth and form the shape of different animals. A cat. A cow. A serpent. The children scream out requests, and the man honors as many as he can.
I keep a wide berth between us and the small crowd as we round a tent and head down the first row of booths.
Let’s just try and blend in, okay? It’ll be more obvious we don’t belong if we just stand around doing nothing.
What do you suggest? Perhaps you could blow fire out of your mouth too?
You’re hilarious. I glare at him, making sure he notices before setting my sights elsewhere. No...
I look around us again, searching for an opportunity to busy ourselves. The festival is just getting started, but it’s already bustling with people. I spot several small groups huddled in little circles, all of them reacting to something interesting in the middle that I can’t see. A mother pulls water out of the ground like a sprinkler just beside us, and her daughter runs through it with a joyful laugh. The splash of water on my bare legs jolts me forward, and the woman looks at me as if she expects me to laugh with her. I do. I also wave, which feels foreign but easy enough to accomplish.
Sharp snapping sounds accompany the mini fireworks exploding just above one of the small huddled groups. A girl with purple hair reaches up and transforms one of the fireworks into confetti, and her friends cheer.
The group next to them is passing a sunflower without its stem from person to person. They use only their mouths to blow the sunflower to the person beside them, their hands clasped together to close off the circle.
Nearly everyone is wearing some sort of jewelry with glowing elemental stones, but I spot plenty of people that aren’t. Hopefully Tirigan and I don’t stand out too much by not having any.
A man and a woman dressed in some sort of uniform, standing at the entrance of the first row of booths, draw my attention next. They have tools on their belts that could be weapons and stern expressions on their faces. Their uniforms are white and silver, their sunglasses tinted green. They each wear a black band around their right arm and a sleeve up their otherwise bare left, which is full of red stones. Their presence reminds me of our security drones, but they don’t seem to be looking for anything or anyone in particular. They simply scan the crowd occasionally.
Do you think those are the enforcement officers John mentioned?
Possibly. They do look like professionals.
A quick scan of our immediate surroundings finds another pair of officers walking toward the train station. Then another entering a tent at the end of the eastern row of booths.
They’re everywhere.
They don’t know anything. We should concentrate on finding Kori.
I don’t know how Tirigan can be so confident, but I appreciate it. I take another long look at the officers directly ahead of us, and then forcibly send my attention past them and down the western row of booths. We need to find someone to help us find Kori.
My attention is pulled towards a booth that seems to be selling clothing. There’s a woman with jet black hair and green tips fussing over a small child sitting on the booth counter. The boy squirms in place and the woman is distracted just enough not to notice there’s something to notice about us.
There. I point out the destination. Tirigan looks over for just a moment before nodding his agreement. We carefully make our way through the crowd, trying our best to fit in with the masses. When we pass the uniformed man and woman, I keep my head tall and try to look like I have nothing to hide. I don’t know if the officers even notice us, but I don’t breathe again until we pass them.
As we approach
the booth, the woman with black hair speaks. Her voice is deeper than expected, and she speaks with an accent I’ve only heard in certain human films.
“You and your little sis, I say...” The woman keeps wiping the child’s face, ignoring the little one’s protests.
“Mummy! Stop! I want to play, Mummy!”
Once we reach the booth, Tirigan immediately begins examining a set of hanging scarves, and I lower my gaze to a stack of tunics on the counter.
“There you are.” The woman stops her cleaning and admires her work, turning the child’s face left and right in her hands. “Much better.” She kisses the boy’s nose and lifts him from the counter to set him down on the ground. “Now don’t go sullying yourself again, boy.” The little boy runs off, but the woman still calls to him. “And Robin, tell your brother to check in, will you?” The woman shakes her head after the boy, but her smile is wide and soft. “Oi! That child.”
She watches him go, and I make myself busy feeling the material of the tunics and admiring the colors. I keep my eyes down, hoping to put her off from speaking to me. It’s not very smart, since we actually need to speak to someone if we want to find Calla’s friend, but I’m terrified to be here. Talking coherently seems impossible.
She turns to look at us, and somehow my gaze meets hers. The woman’s eyes catch me by surprise. I don’t know if I manage to stifle the gasp that wants to escape my lips. Her eyes are a brilliant sort of blue—bold and deep towards her pupil, and lightening to a cool, pale shade as it expands into her irises. It’s breathtaking. My face heats up, but I try to ignore it. The woman also has a diamond in her nose and several gems scaling her ears. The glint of them in the sun distracts me from my fear.
“Lookin’ for a bit of thread, eh?” It takes me a minute to realize she’s speaking to me, my heart suddenly pounding so hard I can hear it pulsing in my ears.
“Um, yeah,” I say softly, too softly. She doesn’t hear me.
