by J. A. Comley
Starla sighed in relief. At least the people here weren't purple with five eyes, or something.
“See?” Rya said, smiling, her voice's musical tinkle sounding odd coming out of the face of a young boy. “The dress custom here is similar to what your people would have worn in, say, Rome or Greece?” Her statement came out as a half-question as she stumbled over the names.
Starla smiled back. “I thought you said that the metamorphosis ability was unique to grobblers?”
The little girl laughed with Alli's voice.
“Well, at least we know they work.”
“We haven't really transformed,” Rya said, smiling, too. “We have cast an illusion of sorts. We call it Cloaking. A strong Makhi would notice, if they were paying attention.”
Starla laughed, too.
“How is it that you know so much about Earth?” She felt silly for not having asked this question sooner.
Rya's smile vanished, then glanced over at Gaby. She was occupied with giving their pets instructions, as they were not coming. Aimee was already snuggled into the capacious inner pocket of Starla's borrowed cloak.
“Beky, she … we would come here, to the Royal City. She loved learning. They have a vast library here and in Hipotarali, Aurelia's capitol. The people of this system have learned many things of many worlds over the millennia, including Earth. Beky loved Earth's creatures the most. She loved learning. We both did.”
“Everyone ready?” Gaby asked, cutting into Starla's thoughts. “Starla, button up that cloak. We may need you to distract the citizen guards.”
Starla buttoned the cloak, her nightdress hidden completely. “Gaby, I thought you all were going to deal with the guards, some sort of magic?” she said, re-plaiting her hair before throwing up the cloak's hood.
“Quickly, now. We must be on time.” Gaby was trying to shoo Lua up the first step.
“Gaby, answer Starla's question,” Alli said, folding her arms and looking livid.
Gaby huffed once. “We can't use magic against the guards, either. They have a Holding around them. If they are attacked with magic, it will alert the High Lord. If they're attacked with force, it will alert the High Commander.” Her voice never lost it's impatient edge. “Now, let's go!”
“Gaby,” Rya hissed through gritted teeth, “you have us here, risking everything and you failed to mention that we won't even make it past the front gate!”
Gaby's face became a mask of resolve. Flexing her hands, she was launched off the ground by some of the vines. She hurtled through the air and then landed, deftly, a short distance from the top.
“She's insane,” Rya growled, pacing back and forth. “No one can know we entered the City until after we have reached Astria. It'll only breed more mistrust.”
“Maybe our refugee story will be good enough,” Lua said half-heartedly.
Alli made a noise in her throat. “With so many Corruptions? You know every refugee is detained and made to pass through a Trace Wall.”
Starla looked up the cliff. The answers she wanted, needed, could be in that city. And a way back home. All day, the guilt over Raoul and Father Joe had grown. Surely, he wouldn't believe that she had broken her word? He knew her better than that. And Father Joe had to know how much she loved him, that she didn't hate him at all.
“Look,” she said, drawing herself up, “I don't know what Corruptions are, but I will get us through those gates. I will do whatever it takes.” Rash words, but in her heart she knew they were true. Everything she wanted lay in that city. She would not be stopped at its gates. Her heart beat with an inner fire. Her family could be through that gate.
With that, Starla turned and began marching up the stairs, trying hard to look confident, rather than worried about the growing drop. She felt their eyes on her back and stiffened her spine.
“We have to at least try. We can't let him win,” Rya said.
Alli nodded reluctantly, followed Rya up the stairs.
Rya grabbed Starla's arm. “Stop.”
“Why?” Starla asked, trying not to look down. “We will be late.”
“Wait for it,” Rya said, violet eyes glittering with mischief.
With a slight jolt, vines wrapped themselves over their shoes and calves, and the stairs, themselves, began to move forwards, zigzagging their ascent at speed. All of Starla's concentration swiftly turned to keeping her balance as they rose high above Rainbow Wood, not trusting the vines to hold her should she topple over the edge. The late afternoon sunlight lit up the golden tops of the thousands of trees, turning them into a swaying ocean of molten gold, the sky above them streaked with pink. As soon as they reached Gaby, the stairs halted as suddenly as they had begun moving.
Alli and Rya were laughing. “I knew you'd be too impatient to wait for us to climb,” Rya giggled.
A ghost of smile played at Gaby's mouth. “We are on a tight schedule. One minute either way might ruin the plan. We will climb from here. Remember, we are exhausted refugees from—”
“We know, we know,” Alli said, still laughing softly.
Gaby let the others move ahead of her. “Thank you,” she said, softly enough that only Starla could hear.
Starla smiled. “I did make you a promise.”
“Just keep your clothing as covered as possible. Oh, and keep your hood up,” Gaby ordered. Golden hair and green eyes on their own are already very uncommon in Galatia, but both together? You'd certainly cause a stir.” A small smile pulled at her lips.
Starla brought up the rear as the last ten steps were cleared. Once she was certain that she was on solid ground and far enough away from the cliff's edge, she looked up.
Her breath caught in her throat. The sight was unbelievable. The red rocks of Sunset Ridge sloped downwards away from her. Within this slight valley lay the Royal City, Capitol of Galatia. She could make out most of the City from this height, despite being so close.
Beyond a very thick Outer Wall of a glowing white metallic substance, everything appeared to be made of glass or alabaster spun into impossibly delicate designs. The entire city glittered and sparkled in the light of the setting sun. The city was planned in a hexagonal shape. She could see that the outer hexagon was divided into five sections, known as the People's Circle. The Guardians had told her that the ones closest to them were the Market and Residential Districts; The Southern Gate led into the Market District, home to the city's crafters and shops as well as the inns. The section to the left of the flat roofed houses of the Residential District had no buildings, but seemed to shimmer – water, perhaps? – and had many trees. To the right of the Market District was a bland stretch of nondescript brown. It looked out of place, like a scar marring an otherwise perfect face. Beyond this, was the Makhi District, filled with white, stone buildings, furthest from where she stood. The garrisons for Galatia's army were also kept there.
Within the People's Circle lay the Imperial Circle. The border between the two was formed, in part, by six glass and alabaster towers, one at each point of the hexagon, above which hung a faint glow.
Starla knew that atop each of those towers was one of the Guardians' Sacred Stones, powering the magical shield created by the High Lord.
Fire for Rya. Water for Alli. Air for Lua. Flora for Gaby. Fauna for Beky. Starla thought, remembering what Lua had told her on the walk here. Only five of the towers glowed. The sixth, furthest from her, was dark. Fey's tower. Aurelia's other Guardian had not been forced to give up her Sacred Stone.
Between the towers ran another wall of silver, molten-looking metal. It was beyond that Wall that they were headed. Grand buildings were dotted among swathes of sea-green. A small wood seemed to take up a section from the palace to an oddly square hill. Somewhere, hidden from view by the opulent spires of the Palace, lay the private homes of Galatia's royal family, including its Queen.
A hiss from behind her drew her back to the ridge. Starla realised she had moved forward, unwittingly. A guard stood a few feet in front of her, looking ir
ritated. Scanning the open Gate behind him, Starla saw that, mercifully, it was empty. The Makhi wasn't there, which was good, but where was the other guard? There were supposed to be two, weren't there?
“Well? Answer my question, young miss, or away with you,” he grumbled, peering into the shadow of her hood.
Starla looked him over quickly, while trying to assume an apologetic expression. He was very young for a gate guard. He had very long, dark-brown hair and a bluff, sun-darkened face. His chain mail armour strained over his girth. He looked more like a fat farmer than a soldier. She noted his belt of bronze. The Guardians had explained that seven-starred belts were worn by all Galatian citizens in the capitol. The colour varied depending on their station. Bronze meant this man was a member of the Citizen Guard. He was carrying a booklet covered in handwritten tallies and symbols Starla didn't recognise.
“I am very sorry, sir,” Starla said, stopping herself from curtsying. They didn't do that here. Rather, they bowed at the waist, but not even that courtesy was extended to common soldiers. “It has been a very long journey,” she said, allowing her voice to express the tiredness that, despite the hurik's effects, was still weighing on her.
The guard shifted his weight, looking uncomfortable. His hand hadn't left the hilt of his sword. “Well, what's your business?”
The others arrived behind Starla, cloaks closed and hoods up. Gaby stepped forward.
“We are refugees, seeking refuge at the Shanebury Inn,” she said, using the name of an inn Flek had overheard, popular with those wealthy enough to afford shelter.
Starla had to stop herself from staring as Gaby's voice came out rough and devoid of any of its usual music.
“Refugees from where?” the guard asked, making marks in the booklet he held. Starla watched carefully as he made different marks for the two Sacrileons who appeared to be children.
“Simik.” Lua's voice filled with a sadness so raw and real that Starla had to resist the urge to glance back at her in amazement. “Please, there were ergothan on the road.”
A sharp look of pain crossed the guard's expression. He looked down, muttering under his breath, clearly debating with himself.
“I can let you into the guard tower. But you will have to wait there until one of the Makhi has seen you. Procedure, you understand,” he said, finally, turning and walking back to the gate at a hurried pace.
Starla and the others fell in behind him. From the Sacrileons' furious whispers, Starla deduced that simply sneaking out of the guard tower would not be possible. The guard glanced back at them, still looking uncertain, tugging on a lock of his hair. The gesture reminded Starla of Raoul, when he was nervous. She smiled, even as the pain and guilt returned. Hit by sudden inspiration from another mark Starla had glimpsed on his booklet, Starla quickened her step to catch up to the guard. She pushed her hood back far enough for him to clearly see her face, but not her hair.
“Please, sir,” she let her eyes fill with tears, “we were attacked on the way, you see. I told my little brother to run, to use the little money he carried and wait for us at the inn.” A few tears spilled over. She brushed them away with her hand, revealing the bruises and cuts along her arms. “Did he not arrive?” she let her voice wobble.
The guard stopped mid-stride, looking visibly uncomfortable. His eyes widened as they took in the colour of Starla's, then they travelled along her injuries. His eyes lost focus as if remembering something.
“We managed to escape, sir. But I don't know if he made it. And he doesn't know that we did. Please, if he is here, let us go to him. Please.”
Starla watched as the guard's eyes lingered on the purple bruise on her forehead, where she had knocked it the night before, and the scrapes and scratches she had received in the thorn forest back on Earth. A myriad of emotions flitted across the guard's face. Finally, he sighed, staring at his shoes.
“I think I know the boy.” He smiled briefly as Starla's face lit up. “But I don't know where he went afterwards. I suppose three ladies and two children can't cause much trouble.” He looked up, making his voice firmer. “But I'll need your promise, from each of you, that you'll let this boy know you are safe and then return here, to this guard tower.”
He accepted their promises as they all solemnly swore to return to him once their duty was done.
Cleverly worded, Starla mused as she offered the same promise, a little reluctantly. He let them pass but held Starla's arm just before she entered the City.
“When you return, perhaps you will be kind enough to give me news from Simik?” He looked hopefully at Starla. For the first time, she noted the weary way he held himself and the sadness etched into his face. She managed a nod and he released her to follow her companions.
Starla shifted her hood back into place as she joined the others, guilt quickly fading as she realised that she had managed it. She had got them inside the City. She had to stop herself from jumping in triumph. Instead, she looked around.
The streets were cobbled in a patchwork of gold and copper stones. The spindly alabaster buildings glittered softly, with black metal signs hung outside some to indicate what kind of goods were sold within. Many shops were boarded up. Dark gouges marred the white walls. Several people in the street were missing limbs. She shuddered away from these signs of violence, trying to find a safe place to rest her eyes.
Blueish crystal globes were set every five paces. Starla guessed that they were the lanterns Lua had mentioned and would be lit only when night fell. To their right was what looked like a giant barn, though it was too dark within for Starla to see any horses. It caught her eye because it was made out of a grey wood and the smell coming from it was comfortingly familiar. Hay and manure.
“Well done,” Rya said, patting Starla's arm. “That was risky. If there'd been no boy—”
Starla smiled back at her conspiratorially. It was more than a little strange to think that the tall, obsidian-skinned Sacrileon was the little boy talking to her, now. “When he added our group to that booklet, I noticed that in the previous section he had allowed in a boy who was travelling alone.”
“You can read Pareon too?”
“No, but the mark was the same as the one he'd made for you.”
“And so you came up with that whole story on the spot?” Lua asked, wide eyed, a huge smile on her face. She was walking backwards, causing people in the street to stare.
“Lua, you are drawing attention,” Alli scolded. “Gaby will … Gaby?”
Gaby was still a way back down the road, watching the guard who had let them in. Starla heard a heavy bolt fall into place as he locked the gates.
“Something is wrong,” Gaby whispered, catching up to the others.
Starla glanced around them again. The citizens, women in their long, bright tunics and men in their equally bright smocks and trousers, milled about the street. Seeing them brought to mind a drawing of some dark-skinned men Antonio had shown her, once. They wore a shirt called a batakari. It was similar to menswear here in design and colour. Shopkeepers chatted to potential customers. Here and there, a few shabbier-looking people wandered about. Refugees, no doubt. Their tunics or smocks were all brown and made of a rough-looking material, tied at their waist with a dark grey belt of stars. Starla saw that while most women wore square-cut tunics like the Guardians' illusions, here and there a lady with an oval or V-cut tunic came through the crowd. By their bearing and the servants trailing them, Starla guessed these were upper-class citizens. Still, high born or low, no one was even looking at them. An aura of wariness seemed to pervade the street. No one seemed truly relaxed as they watched each other furtively, but no hostile looks were sent their way. In fact, the only person who was staring right at them was a man mostly hidden in the shadows of the stables.
“I don't understand. We're in. No one seems bothered,” Starla said, frowning at the worried look on Gaby's face and turning her back on the man in the shadow. Perhaps he was waiting to see if they needed a steed.
As they moved up the street, Starla got the impression that the only reason they weren't racing towards the Imperial Circle is because it would draw attention. She tried to take in the surrounding people and shops but the Guardians' edginess was contagious.
They had just turned into a new street, planning to circle around through the park to the northern part of the Residential Circle so they could reach Astria faster, when the sound of a gong being struck echoed through the City. Once, twice, three times it rang and echoed. Gaby said something that Starla didn't understand but she got the impression she was better off not knowing.
As the last echo faded, people seemed to pop out of every doorway and side street. A steady flood of men, woman and children, all surging forwards. Towards the Imperial Circle. Starla felt her panic rising as the crowd pushed between their little group, forcing them apart. She tried in vain to hold on to Gaby, before she was swept off in the tide of Galatian citizens and refugees.
Starla's desperation grew as the glowing white towers loomed nearer. She hadn't seen another hooded figure in too long. She tried again to get out of the crush by turning down a side street. But the people were single-minded in their goal, and kept sweeping her forwards.
“The King has returned!” yelled a young boy as he dove past Starla into the crowd.
“Oh, Aimee,” Starla whispered as they were pressed forward, “how do I find Astria, now?”
Inside her dark inner pocket, the little sparrowhawk trembled at the noise of the crowd.
As if on command, the sea of jostling people stopped. Looking around, Starla found that she was only one row from the front as the crowd spread itself along a large, open, square courtyard. It had a huge fountain at its centre in the shape of a tall, silver tree. Wrapping around the tree were flowers and vines carved from glittering jewels. Standing at its base were six carved people. Two bore cat ears atop their heads.
