“We're living in the bookmaker district now,” Virago shouts back. “It's just a little place we share, but Holly loves it. You see, she worked with books back on her world, so it makes her happy to be around so many of them.”
“Bookmaker district!” Attis whistles, pausing for a moment so that I can catch up with her. “That's pricey!” she shouts ahead to her friend.
Virago glances back and pauses, too, waiting for us. “It is,” says Virago, her smile spreading across her face again and her eyes sparkling. “But Holly is very much worth it.”
“To be sure, to be sure,” Attis agrees with a soft chuckle. Once I reach her through the press of people, Attis kneels down easily beside Zilla, lacing her fingers together and holding them out to me. “Up you go,” she tells me softly, glancing up to me with her warm amber eyes.
I stare down at her, kneeling before me, her dark red hair falling across the side of her cream-colored cheek, amber eyes unwavering as she gazes to the deepest parts of myself, and—again—I want to freeze this moment forever. I want to stop time and stay here, but I know I can't. So I lean forward, and I place my hand on her shoulder, my palm against the cold metal as I curl my fingertips underneath that armored shoulder plate and brush the warm leather on her shoulder. I squeeze gently, memorizing what that warm leather feels like against my skin, what her armor feels like, under my palm.
“Thank you,” I whisper to her. She glances up at me in surprise, her golden eyes wide.
“It's nothing,” she tells me gruffly, holding my gaze with hers as she holds out her cupped hands to me and nods toward Zilla. “It's quite a ways to the bookmaker district,” she tells me, her mouth curling up at the corners. “And I didn't want you to have to walk the whole way.”
“That's not what I meant,” I tell her, shaking my head as my voice catches, but I realize that here and now is not the best time for this. So I take a deep breath, give her a watery smile, and then I step up gently into her strong, cupped hands. Attis rises, tosses me up onto Zilla's back lightly, and then she's leading Zilla behind her as we follow Virago deeper into the city.
We move through the city streets one after the other as I take in the sights of Arktos City. The buildings rise away from us, not unlike on the streets of Boston, but this is certainly not Boston. The streets here in Arktos City are cobblestone, and there are no sidewalks: people walk with horses and with horses with carts, and there are a few oxen, trundling buggies behind them, all in a joyful, loud press of people and animals going in opposite directions. It's happy chaos.
As we move further into the city, the streets become wider, and the wide expanse is now bordered with brightly colored tents and people selling many different things. There are fruit and vegetables that look similar to ones we have back at home (and then there are ones I've never seen before in my life), pots and pans and clothes and cloth and animals and pottery. There's a blacksmith shop that has swords, knives and horseshoes spread out front on a woven blanket, along with one silver shield leaning against his shop. There's a seamstress shop with two women standing in the window, one twirling around and around in a big, blue gown, the other shifting from side to side with a knowing smirk, showing off closely-tailored pants and a smart suit jacket over a ruffled shirt.
That's when I begin to notice that most of the people here in the city are women.
There are definitely a couple of men; they're noticeable moving through the press of people simply because there are so few of them. But every single person selling wares or running a shop seems to be female, as far as I can see. As we move further and further into the city, the occasional few men that I've noticed seem to vanish, and there are only women surrounding us now.
Attis calls out to a few people, and they return her greetings with happy smiles and exclamations of greeting and good wishes. The entire atmosphere of the city, it seems, is one of jubilation as preparations are underway for the festival.
Even though we've spent so many days together, I never thought to ask Attis about what the Festival of Stars is. There are people now hanging garlands of paper stars from windows above the shops to dangle down the front of their homes, and there are paper stars floating above a lot of the tent shops lining the streets, and tied with string to the shop signs of brick and mortar stores. Originally, I thought they must be balloons, but they're too blocky. When I ride closer to one of the “balloons,” that's when I realize they're made of ultra-thin, gauzy paper, and there's a small candle lit inside of each one. I'm not sure how they're floating in the air, but then, that's really the least of the things I should be wondering about here.
“Did you come across the Hellions on your journey to Arktos City?” Virago shouts back to us with a smirk, as we round another street corner of the city. There's an enormous garland of a hundred paper stars dangling out of a window above me, and Zilla is so tall that, as I pass beneath the garland, the paper stars brush against the top of my head. I stare up in wonder.
Attis laughs in surprise. “Oh, gods—is that what we're calling Kell and Alinor's brigade now?”
Virago's laughing, too, as she leads her horse out of the way of a large carriage that trundles past, pulled by two big bay horses. “The name has evolved, I'll give you that, but I think it best describes them now,” says Virago, winking back at the two of us.
“We did come across them, yes,” Attis tells her, “but they had to stay another day where they were. They were stationed at the Silver Pony on a campaign. But they should be getting to the city tonight, because they were going to push forward, and they could sustain a much quicker pace than us.”
“That's wonderful. Oh, Gods, can you really imagine a party without them? I don't think it could be done!” says Virago, shaking her head with a wide smile. “Do you know where you're staying?” she asks Attis now.
Attis grimaces and shakes her head. “I was hoping there'd be room at an inn or tavern—”
“That time has come and gone, I'm afraid,” says Virago, glancing back at us with a shake of her head, her brow furrowed in concern. “I'm so sorry, Attis, truly, but what tiny amount of room we had is taken up by Artema and her dog, and—”
“Oh, don't trouble yourself on our account,” says Attis easily, with a warm smile. “Josie and I have been making do almost every night in the tent, and we'll continue to do so. We'll find friends among the encampment and pitch there.” She holds up a hand when Virago starts to protest. “Truly, Virago, it's fine,” she tells her, voice low.
“I feel terrible,” Virago sighs, casting her eyes heavenward. “I should have told Artema that she'd have to bed out in the encampments. Really, two dogs in our small quarters makes for quite a crowd,” she tells us, shaking her head. “But you would have been so welcome. I know!” she says, face brightening, “I can sleep with Holly out on the balcony. We'll pitch a small tent there! Oh, we'll be cozy—”
Attis laughs. “I would never hear of it,” she tells Virago, shaking her head and gazing at her affectionately. “Truly, Virago, please. We're fine.”
“Honestly, I love camping in the tent,” I tell Virago now, and I'm surprised that—when I say it—I actually mean it. For the few short days that we've been together, that tent has been the site of a lot of happy memories. Camping in a tent when it's so cold out has its challenges, of course, but I've gotten a little less indoors-y since I've had to spend every waking moment outside.
Attis glances up at me in surprise, but her face softens when I smile down at her. She reaches out in the space between us, curls her fingers softly around my calf and squeezes gently.
Warmth floods through me at the intimate, sweet gesture, and the ache in my heart, the ache that I'd been able to ignore a little as I took in the magnificence of the city, roars back to life, pulsing with a bright, unwavering throb through me.
Am I really going to give this up?
Am I really going to give her up?
As Attis leads Zilla through the beautiful streets of Arktos City, I r
ealize, again, that I have no idea what to do.
Chapter 12: The Star
When we arrive at the livery stables down the street from Virago and Holly's rooms, Virago steps into the stable and crows with delight.
“It looks like they're already here,” she tells us over her shoulder, leading her enormous gray horse down the aisle toward the back of the stable.
“Gods, they are,” mutters Attis, leading Zilla up to the entrance of the stable and taking in the large horses lined up at the front, tied to the hitching post at the entrance.
“Who?” I ask.
“The Hellions,” says Attis, her mouth twitching into a smirk as she glances up at me. “All right. Down you go,” she tells me, then, holding her arms up.
I glance down at her and push myself forward so that I fall the few inches into her arms, my front pressing to her cool armor. Attis' smile deepens as she gazes into my eyes. She leans forward, brushing her lips against my forehead, and then she lowers me gently to the ground.
Attis ties Zilla next to the other horses at the hitching post, all massive ones. Honestly, it seems the bigger the horse, the better choice for a knight.
Virago hands the reins of her mount over to a stable girl, pressing a coin into her hands. “Let's go up,” she says excitedly, turning back to us with a wide smile. “And let's begin the party.”
“What's the Festival of Stars about?” I ask, as Virago walks back through the stable, and Attis and I turn and make our way back down the street. We stop at the second building, and Virago begins to trot up the creaking, wooden stairs wrapped around the building on the outside.
Attis smiles softly at me; then she hooks an arm around my waist as we begin to climb the stairs together.
“You'll see,” she whispers, pressing her mouth against the skin beneath my ear and kissing me warmly there.
I shiver against her as I look up into her bright amber eyes that stare down at me almost wistfully.
We reach the third level of stairs, and I turn to take in the city. This high up, I can see to the next street. The sun is starting to drift toward the far horizon, and the quality of light in the afternoon makes everything look warm and golden below us. Laughter drifts up to us from down below on the cobblestones, and someone across the way, on the same level as us in the opposite building, throws open her diamond-paned windows and begins to toss long strings of paper stars to dangle out the window, down the side of her building. The paper stars almost seem to float in the air as they fall gracefully, their many colors fluttering in the breeze.
“Here we are,” says Virago, reaching the third level of the staircase and stopping at the door. It's a hand-carved, very pretty wooden affair of a door, made of a very dark wood that has, at head height, a stained glass window inlaid into the wood in an enormous diamond pane. The ruby red, sapphire blue and emerald green of the window take my breath away, as the light inside of the rooms shines through to greet us warmly.
Virago opens the door, and the wash of laughter and happy voices comes out to meet us, along with the tantalizing aroma of something that smells like frying onions and pancakes. My stomach immediately growls as Virago ushers both Attis and I indoors, shutting the door behind all of us.
My eyes adjust to the darkness as someone immediately grabs me and hugs me tightly. From the tightness of the hug, I recognize Alinor. Wonder wiggles out from beneath the coat and leaps to the floor, but I'm fairly certain she'll be fine in this joyful chaos.
“Josie!” Alinor crows, then immediately launches herself onto Attis. “Attis!” she shouts loudly, picking up a mug of what appears to be drink from a little table by the door. “Hail and welcome!” she bellows. She downs the contents of the very large mug in a few enormous gulps.
“Hail and welcome, Alinor,” Attis chuckles, readjusting her armored shoulder piece that Alinor practically pulled off.
The low-ceilinged rooms are as warm and welcoming as an embrace, and each of these rooms are full of people, of women, I realize, in different styles of armor, along with a few women in dresses, and a few women in pants and suit jackets. I take in the press of people, and my eyes land on a few in particular—a gorgeous, older woman wearing a clinging sky-blue dress, drinking out of a fluted glass. In the corner, there's one very pretty woman with long, curly black hair braided smartly behind her, her face practically obscured by the enormous tri-corner hat on top of her head. Her jacket looks like hand-embroidered brocade, and at the base of her beautiful, earth-colored throat is a mound of creamy lace that flows out of the top of her shirt and down her chest like a waterfall. The women's dresses resemble medieval-style clothing...but not quite. The material of the dresses is brocade or heavy velvet, and there's something almost Victorian about the way their hair is upswept, and the style of their jewelry.
“Virago!” calls a happy voice, and out of the press of people comes a woman with long red hair sweeping over the shoulders of her blood-red gown with a plunging front. Her face is warm and inviting, and her smile is so utterly genuine that it makes me smile, too. This woman dashes forward, and then Virago has her arms around her, is lifting her and twirling her in place with a bright laugh of joy. The woman falls into Virago's arms, and then Virago has her hand at the back of the woman's neck and is drinking her deeply in an intoxicating, passionate kiss.
Wow. It's...very passionate.
When they finally break away (to a whoop of amusement from the woman in the brocade jacket), Virago turns to us triumphantly, an arm tightly wrapped around the smaller woman, who leans against her, cheeks flushed, her face bright with happiness.
“Josie, this is Holly,” Virago tells us proudly. “Holly is from your world.”
“What?” Holly says, her brow furrowing immediately as she glances up at Virago. “Virago, what?”
“I'm as surprised as you are, my darling,” Virago tells her, her full mouth curling up at the corners with bemusement as she shrugs. “Apparently, Josie came through from Boston. Attis found her in the forest.”
“Wow,” says Holly, gazing at me with wide eyes. Then she smiles brightly, steps forward and holds out her hand to me. “It's nice to meet you, Josie. God, I have a million questions for you. How did you come through the portal?”
“I don't honestly know,” I tell her with an uncomfortable shrug. “I was in my basement, doing laundry—”
“Wait, wait... Do I know you?” asks Holly, her head to the side as she stares at me with wide eyes. “Your voice sounds super familiar—”
I actually laugh out loud at that, and then I smile, raise a single brow as I take a chance and say, “Good morning, Boston! This is Josie Beckett with LEM 100.5, Public Access Radio.”
“Oh, my God, no way,” says Holly. She darts forward and gives me a huge, tight hug. “Your program is my absolute favorite. I'm kind of a crazy fan girl for you, actually. You interviewed one of my favorite authors! Oh, my God, I can't believe you're here, and that I'm finally meeting you...in, you know, kind of the craziest way possible,” she says with a little chagrin, as she chuckles and indicates our surroundings with a sweep of her hand.
Alinor races past, pretty deftly for being so drunk, chasing another knight in golden armor who's laughing so hard, she's going to be caught in a second.
“Admittedly, it's a little weird that I'd find the only fan of my show on another world,” I tell her with a short laugh, and she's laughing, too. Virago and Attis stare at us, pleasantly perplexed.
“She's from the radio, sweetheart,” says Holly, wrapping her arm around Virago and glancing up at her with a wide smile. “Remember, the thing that plays music?”
“Ah,” says Virago, her head to the side as she takes me in. “You're the woman who's funny, the one in the morning? I thought I recognized your voice, too.”
“I'll take that as a big compliment,” I tell her, secretly pretty damn pleased with myself.
“So, what are you doing here?' Holly asks, breaking away from Virago, taking me by the elbow and pullin
g me gently toward the wide far window that looks down over the street. “Do you want to go back to Earth?” she asks, glancing back at Attis, across the room with one brow raised. “Or did you, you know, find your own knight, too?” she asks, her lips twitching upwards.
“That seems to be kind of a thing, doesn't it?” I ask with a tight chuckle as she winks at Virago across the room.
“Yeah. It's kind of...magical,” she says with a soft sigh; then her face darkens. “Do you want to go home, Josie?” she asks me softly, holding my gaze. “What about... What about you and Attis?”
“You're perceptive,” I tell her, head to the side. I raise a brow with a sigh.
“I can see the way you look at her,” Holly tells me decisively. “And I'm pretty damn sure that's how I looked at Virago from the very start. There's something about a lady knight, isn't there?” she asks, her lips twitching up at the corners. “So, tell me,” she says, leaning back against the wall beside the window. “What do you want?”
The question is so innocent-sounding and kind that I can feel the pain reaching out from my heart, squeezing my insides again. I bite my lip, glance out the window at the packed streets below, the glowing paper stars floating up from the shop signs, the dangling paper stars fluttering out of people's windows.
“I don't know. I thought I wanted to go home, but...everything's changed. I didn't intend to fall in love. But I...did,” I tell her quietly. “Still, I feel like I have to go home. This world is definitely magical and amazing and just... I mean, it's amazing, don't get me wrong,” I tell her, opening my palms to her. “But this isn't my home, you know?”
“I know,” she says quietly, nodding. “For me, Agrotera, from the very first mention...I knew it was my home. I never felt quite like I belonged in Boston, on Earth, really, as silly as it sounds,” she tells me, smiling softly. “But I know you must love it, must love Boston—that much is very easy to understand from your radio show. It seems like your home, the place you're meant to be. You're passionate about the city; that much is clear.”
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