Dance of a Burning Sea

by Mellow, E. J.

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  The first thing Niya noticed as she and Alōs wove through the sleeping streets, pressed up against towering buildings like skittering cockroaches, was the beauty.

  Niya would be the first to admit that in her imaginings, the dwellings of giant cannibals would be filled with piles of picked-over bones, body odor mixed with the tang of feces. Their homes would be archaic. A wet, dripping cave would suffice, where they’d sleep curled together like wolves. What Niya witnessed now, however, was a hard lesson in her own prejudice.

  The brickwork was intricate and symmetrical, built by expert hands. Doors were decorated in complex carvings, and massive torches flanked their sides, lighting the streets warmly. From where they crept, she and Alōs had shrunk to a fourth of their size, the large buildings seeming to go on endlessly.

  The second thing Niya took in was the smell. The city was wrapped in floral fragrance. Glancing up to windowsills, Niya saw why. Flower boxes overflowed with dripping blooms of white plumeria or pink gilia, grown to be plucked by a much larger hand than her own.

  Despite their circumstances, Niya’s excitement soared as she took in what very few ever had.

  Oh, how she hoped they’d see a giant soon!

  She could feel them asleep in their dwellings, hear their snores vibrating through the walls.

  They must be very large indeed, she thought, for though they hardly moved, their energy still felt like a bag of bricks against her skin.

  It was utterly fascinating.

  How envious her sisters would be when she told the tale of how she had stolen from giants and survived.

  The last bit coming true was the most important part, of course.

  The farther they roamed, the more Niya gave in to the one thing that would put any Bassette on a misguided path: curiosity.

  “Stick close,” hissed Alōs as Niya began to wander into the middle of the street.

  “That is a sewer drain.” She pointed to a large grate set into the cobblestone street.

  “Yes, I can see that.”

  “That means they have plumbing here, Alōs. Plumbing.”

  “Your deductive reasoning is astonishing. Now get back here,” he urged from where he pressed against the edge of a building.

  “We don’t even have that yet in the Thief Kingdom.”

  Alōs shushed her as they slid along more homes before turning into a large square. Storefronts were boarded up for the night, and the sliver of moon directly above cast its faint glow across the quiet space. Something winked silver in the center.

  “That’s a sundial!”

  “By the lost gods.” Alōs tugged Niya back against the wall. “Is this how it is to be the entire time?”

  “How are you not as astonished as I? No one has spoken of the things we’ve seen here.”

  “For a reason,” he reminded her. “They’re all dead. Can you focus now? We have to make it to the chief’s home before we find out if any of your fawning over giant architecture has woken anyone.”

  “They do seem to be deep sleepers,” she mused, glancing to the shut doors around them.

  “And thank the lost gods for that. Now come on,” said Alōs. “I think that building there must be his.” He pointed to a distant dwelling that loomed over the town, its facade twinkling with finer stone than any of the others.

  “Well,” mused Niya as they crept forward. “That does not bode well for the rest of our journey.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “I’ve found whenever the first part of a task is easy, the second part is near impossible.”

  “Better than it being near impossible the entire time.”

  “But not as good as easy throughout.”

  “Nothing worth having is ever easy.” Alōs’s glowing gaze seemed to consume her as he glanced back.

  A flapping of wings erupted in her gut, his words from earlier flying forward in her mind.

  So the courageous fire dancer will deny what burns between us because she fears repeating the past?

  Niya watched Alōs duck forward, leaving her standing alone.

  Niya was not fearful. She was terrified.

  Because she knew if she were to trust him again and he were to break that trust, it would not be Alōs she could never forgive. It would be herself.

  And that was one gamble she could never bet upon.

  Shaking herself out of her thoughts, she hurried to catch up with Alōs, who was now an entire block away. As they skirted corners and hung back, waiting to see if the rumbling of giants sleeping would change to the pounding of them rising, heavy feet on stone, an entire sand fall seemed to pass. But the city slept soundly, the heavy weight of the giants in their homes still. It was obvious these creatures had no fear of unwanted visitors, for who would be fool enough to come seek beings many times bigger than they, rumored to enjoy eating them for breakfast?

  Niya and Alōs, it appeared.

  Breathing heavily, they finally approached the towering home that Niya hoped was the chief’s. Her gaze traveled up massive stairs, each lip as tall as she, to a soaring wooden door at the very top. Large burning bowls of fire flanked its sides, and carvings of flowers and leaves decorated the stone exterior.

  Now that they were closer, she could pick up the echoing thump of music from within.

  Niya’s magic stirred, nerves awakening. “It appears not all are asleep,” she said.

  “No,” agreed Alōs, his gaze studying the structure before them. “And by the sounds of it, they won’t be for quite some time. It changes nothing, though. We have to get in there.”

  He began to pull himself up each step.

  “Wait,” grunted Niya as she followed, her arms aching with the climb. By the Fade, there must be over a dozen steps. “You can’t seriously be thinking of walking straight through the front door?”

  “Of course not,” whispered Alōs as he made it to the final landing.

  Niya bent over on her knees, wheezing slightly. “Then what was . . . the point . . . of that?”

  “We are going to squeeze straight through the front door.” He pointed to a gap by the door’s hinge. “One advantage to our size.” He flashed a smile before stepping forward.

  “Alōs,” she hissed, tugging at his coat. “Can we wait just a moment? What’s the plan once we squeeze through?”

  He turned, glowing eyes meeting hers. “The plan is we come up with a plan. But we won’t know anything more standing out here.”

  “I can feel them inside, Alōs,” she said, pulse quickening while she kept on his heels as he shimmied into the crack. “And I fear there are quite a lot.”

  He said nothing as they pressed tight into the space. Niya could just barely make out a glimmer of light beyond Alōs’s large form. She did not like being pinched like this; in fact, her breathing grew panicked along with her swirling magic. Lost gods, what if someone tries to open the door with us in here? The thought had her scooting faster until soon she was pressed tightly behind Alōs where he’d stopped, right at the opening.

  Delicate harp music mixed with the pounding of drums hit up against her, boisterous chattering and laughter along with passing shadows of large forms. But most of all, there were waves after strong waves of movement. It almost caused Niya to take a step back.

  “What do you see?” she asked, angling for a better view over his shoulder.

  “There’s a party going on,” Alōs whispered. “But there’s a flower bed right by the door we can duck into. Ready?”

  “Yes.”

  Like rodents, they scurried in and dropped into a long bed of plants. Niya clutched against a stalk, ducking under petals. They appeared to be in a flower bed that was dug down from the stone floor and lined a long entrance hallway. Niya peered left, then right, but could not see an end to the foliage where they hid. A forest of plant stems went on endlessly.

  The ground shook beneath Niya’s feet as the thumps of footsteps walking down the hallway hit up against her.


  Still, Niya’s heart leaped with a mix of anticipation and relief at not being seen. We made it inside! And giants roamed all around.

  With her pulse quickening, she shifted the white petal right above her head and peered out at the scene. Her eyes flew wide.

  While the outside of the building was all stone, the inside was a green jungle. Vines climbed walls like live wallpaper, and captured firebugs fluttered in clear jars, lighting the expanse of the soaring hall. And there, filling up all the air, were giants. Massive green- and blue-skinned creatures with thick muscles that bulged from sleeveless wraps and barely there tunics. They mingled with one another, talking and drinking from goblets as large as horses.

  Now that she was among them, no longer separated by thick walls, their energy of movement was even heavier than she had first felt, like being crushed by a roomful of sand. Weighted. Oppressive. Paralyzing.

  It took her breath away.

  She now knew why her father had said her magic wouldn’t do much against them. Her gifts were powerful, yes, as were Alōs’s, but with so many . . . it would be like a drop of water trying to extinguish the sun.

  She ducked back down, her thoughts racing as a new panic overtook her.

  It was not merely locating the Prism Stone that they were up against tonight. No, she had truly underestimated what they would find here. Impenetrable stone walls in the form of giant cannibals.

  “Are you all right?” Alōs drew close.

  “Their movements are like holding a city on my back.” She met his eyes, saw the worry in them. “Alōs, our magic cannot save us here. Not against them.”

  The crease between his brows deepened. “No, perhaps not against them, but our gifts are called gifts for a reason, fire dancer. There is always a benefit to be found in them. Now, let’s get out of this hall. I am not sure why yet, but something is telling me to follow this flower bed to wherever it leads us to down there.” He pointed right. To the endless flower forest with no distinguishable end.

  Finding her bearings, Niya forced herself on, following Alōs forward and careful not to disturb stalks as they remained crouched under leaf and petal.

  “I see an end approaching,” said Alōs after they had walked for some time, the party and pounding of giants around them their beat to keep moving.

  Coming to the end ledge of the flower bed, they peeked over its lip to look into a domed chamber. Its floor was made up of a mosaic stone pattern swirling into a point in the middle, the roof a curved masterpiece of stained glass, more depictions of plants. Yet despite its size, which Niya would have thought would be the perfect area for the giants to mingle in, it was empty, save for one.

  While his height was not so tall as to reach treetops, it still was that of five or six men. His black hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail, revealing facial features that sat plump and heavy, as if a bee had stung his brow, nose, and lips. He leaned against a wall on the other side of the room, picking at his nails with a stick.

  A stick that looked an awful lot like a bone.

  Niya swallowed. “Do you think he’s a guard or guest?” she whispered.

  “I think all guests are guards here.”

  “What should we do?”

  Alōs didn’t answer, his brows drawn together as he peered toward an entryway that sat across the domed room.

  “What is it?” she asked, inching closer to him, trying to see whatever it was he did.

  “I can feel something.”

  “Yes, so can I. It’s the giants stomping about.”

  Alōs shook his head. “No, it’s similar to what I’ve felt around . . .”

  “Around what?” Niya pushed impatiently.

  “The other pieces of the Prism Stone.”

  Niya’s heart stuttered, her grip tightening on the ledge they crouched behind. “You feel it here? Are you sure?”

  “Not entirely, but . . .” His gaze turned toward her, a spark of light, of hope. It was a look that was enough to send her own optimism soaring. “I’ll be more sure if we can search whatever is in that hall over there.”

  Niya glanced back to the open door across the room. The hallway looked similar to the one at their back, except it hung in silence. She could sense little movement down its length. But she no longer entirely relied on her senses here. The waves of movement coming off these giants discombobulated her bearings.

  “The distance isn’t far,” she said. “But there is nowhere to hide to reach it.”

  The long flower bed ended where they crouched, nothing but stone floor in front of them. Not even a pot or statue to hide behind.

  “Then we’ll have to be true thieves tonight,” explained Alōs. “If we stay quiet and move slowly, we should be able to make it past with him unaware.”

  Niya frowned. It wasn’t really the best plan, but what so far had been? And what other options did they have? Their magic was useless against such a creature. She could almost imagine how drained she would become, and how quickly, attempting to penetrate such thick skin and hulking muscle with a spell.

  Beside her Alōs began to grab handfuls of dirt by their feet, slathering it over his face and coat. “To hide our smell,” he explained when he met her concerned look. “Just in case.”

  “This keeps getting better and better,” she grumbled, bending down to do the same.

  Once properly dirty, they climbed out of the flower bed, pausing with backs flat against the curved wall to their right.

  Niya’s heart seemed to ricochet against the ground, every one of her senses heightened as she waited. Fight, her magic hissed, not understanding why she kept it contained, suppressed. She continued to ignore its demands as she watched the giant take no notice of the two mice wedged in tight across the room. He merely moved from cleaning his nails to picking his teeth.

  Alōs glanced her way and gave her a smile before sliding forward, one slow step at a time.

  He looked strangely endearing covered in dirt, she realized, his usual impeccable state lost under smears and smudges.

  Niya’s gaze swung erratically between the new hall they approached and the giant on the other side of the room. We are nothing. No one. Tiny bugs not even worth squashing.

  They were now only ninety steps away.

  Seventy.

  Fifty steps.

  The giant looked toward them. Niya sucked in a breath and froze, Alōs now motionless beside her.

  The beast sniffed the air, and Niya pressed tighter against the wall, as though the effort might have the stone swallow her whole.

  She felt like a sitting target. The giant was looking right at them.

  What had they been thinking, walking into the middle of this room? It was madness!

  Everything inside Niya screamed to move, run, spin a spell that would at least buy them time to retreat.

  But she remained still. As did Alōs. As did their magic, which she could sense wanting to jump from the pirate’s skin as much as hers, a contained vibration beside her.

  By some miracle the beast turned back to his task.

  She and Alōs slipped forward once more, but not until they had successfully rounded the corner into the next hall did she let out a relieved breath.

  “By the Fade,” she whispered. “That took years from me, I’m sure.”

  “Better a loss of a few years than the giant taking them all if he had seen us.”

  Niya held back a shiver. “Where to now?”

  Alōs drew his brows together in concentration, peering down the long hall. It had no windows, but the twinkling lanterns woven into the tapestry of vines lit the stretching path. Six open doorways, three on either side, patterned its length.

  “It’s stronger here,” he said, “but we should search each room before moving on.”

  They hurried forward, entering into rooms that twinkled with captured starlight or were covered in the softest glowing moss. And when Niya sensed giants approaching, the pounding of their footfalls hard to miss, they ducked into t
he thick vines carpeting the walls. After another half sand fall of exploring, Niya noticing Alōs’s growing frustration, she began to fear that perhaps whatever he sensed might merely have been a phantom of hope. The place was enormous, with many spectacular items waiting for them in each room.

  Especially when they stood before two glowing green orbs, no bigger than apples, that circled each other endlessly. They floated above a plush pillow, the only two items in one of the rooms.

  “What are they?” she asked, watching the balls spin around and around, as though drawn to one another but unable to touch. Magic was assuredly trapped here. Is this what Alōs felt? she wondered with dismay.

  “Connection stones,” said Alōs, the green before them lighting up his face. “I have only ever seen these in Esrom.”

  She frowned, looking back at the orbs. She had never heard of them before.

  “What do they do?”

  “Their magic can bind two beings together. When split up, either party can summon the other. I hear to refuse the call can be painful. Like splinters in your blood until you meet again with whoever holds the other piece. Connection stones do not like to be separated for long.”

  “Sounds dreadful. Who would ever bind themselves like that?”

  Alōs did not answer, only stared at the spinning orbs, his gaze growing distant.

  “Alōs?” She stepped closer, but he turned from her, walking from the room.

  Niya glanced back to the connection stones, confusion swirling at what he had seen that she didn’t, before following him out.

  They continued searching in a tense silence, sensing that their time here was almost up, until Alōs suddenly set off down the hall in a jog.

  Niya’s nerves buzzed as she chased after him. “What is it?” she asked as he skidded to a stop by the last open door in the hall.

  “In here,” he said. “I can feel something—”

  But his words died on his tongue as they both peered into the room.

  “By the Fade,” whispered Niya.

  They stood before a room of horrors.

  Shelves lined the walls, displaying people from all over Aadilor, taxidermized and frozen. A group of men from the northeast lands of Hultez was positioned on their knees, looks of terror on their faces as they held up shields. Two women from Shanjaree hugged one another, their features pinched in heartbreaking sorrow. Even children were displayed but were made to smile.