The Crescent Stone

by Matt Mikalatos

  Jason finally said, “I didn’t want it to be true.”

  Kekoa nodded. “I get that. David told me once that some Native Americans didn’t get the right to vote in the US until—I can’t remember—the 1950s or 60s. I told him there was no way that was true. I mean, black people had the right to vote a hundred years before that almost. But he explained that the Native people weren’t even allowed to become US citizens until the 1920s.”

  Jason didn’t know why it surprised him. He knew the history of the Chinese immigrants to the United States. It was only a month ago that he had lectured Madeline about it, and the Chinese hadn’t been allowed to become citizens until the 1940s. He shouldn’t be surprised by these things, but the honest truth is that he was. These sorts of facts went against his cultural narrative, the story he’d been told about the land of the free and the home of the brave. The stories had an almost fantastical quality to them, as if they had happened long ago and far away in some fantasy world, not decades ago to their great-grandparents. And, yeah, black people—or black men, anyway—got the right to vote a hundred years before Native people, but then a whole system built up around preventing that, which was part of the point in the Civil Rights movement in the 60s.

  So of course David’s story was true. Even a moment’s reflection should have told him that. The problem was that he hadn’t taken a moment to reflect before opening his big mouth. “I’ll apologize,” Jason said.

  He stood at their window. Baileya was on the grassy field outside the dorms, running. Her leg was healing. The guys said the Kakri healed faster than humans, but still, it had only been a few weeks, and she was out there with a walking stick, practicing a strange lope that allowed her to move fast by using the stick as a crutch. He didn’t know how she kept going when she had been hurt so badly, or why she refused to use the Elenil healing magic. It had completely restored him, after all, and in a matter of moments. But there she was, a month after breaking her leg, trying to stay in fighting shape and overcome the battle effects of just one night in the war. The scars help us remember, that’s what David had said. Jason put his hand against his unmarked chest. No scars, but he still remembered. Night’s Breath. What did that mean? He couldn’t shake it. He knew, from his own bitter experience, that not every scar was visible. What happened with Jenny—that hadn’t left a mark. No physical mark, anyway. But it had changed his life forever. Nothing could be the same, not ever.

  Which reminded him of Madeline. He was supposed to meet her in the market to prepare for the ceremony tonight. Now that they had been here a full Sunlit Lands month, they were supposed to be inducted into Elenil society. They would get an assignment of where they would live, what their roles would be. They’d be allowed to wear whatever clothing they pleased. Jason hoped to be put back here with Kekoa and David, but that meant joining the Elenil army. He had enjoyed his one night in the war, and he loved the way some people still called him the Bat Slayer. But he had almost died. According to Madeline, almost died in the not-coming-back-even-with-magic kind of way. He wasn’t sure he wanted to do that again. And Madeline had made it clear she was not planning to fight. Jason had come here to keep an eye on her. To watch over and protect her in the way he had failed to do with his sister.

  “I have to meet Madeline,” he said to Kekoa.

  Kekoa grinned at him. “Hold up, man. David is gonna be back in a minute with a present.”

  “A . . . present?”

  “Yeah, we planned ahead and—”

  The door opened. David stood there, holding a flat white box.

  “I’m sorry—” Jason started, but David interrupted him.

  “You believe me now?”

  “Yeah.”

  “We’re good then. But you have to learn to listen when someone speaks their heart.”

  “Right,” Jason said. “Sorry.” Relief washed over him. He realized that he had been worried, on some level, that David would stay angry at him, that he had somehow permanently messed up their relationship. But they were better friends than that. There was room to mess things up and still be friends.

  “Kekoa and I had something made for you,” David said. “An outfit for the ceremony tonight.”

  Jason took the box, laid it on the bed, and pulled off the lid.

  The first sight of the outfit assaulted Jason’s eyes. It was garish. Awful. Ridiculous. “It’s horrible,” he said, pulling it out of the box. “I love it.”

  16

  THE BIDDING

  “Has your boon brought you happiness?” the Peasant King asked.

  FROM “RENALDO THE WISE,” A SCIM LEGEND

  The tattoo on her wrist was growing. There were times Madeline could see it pulsing on the edges, small tendrils curling outward, moving farther along her wrist, snaking toward her palm. It was nearly two inches wide now. She kept it covered, a surprisingly easy thing to do here in the Sunlit Lands. She hadn’t mentioned it to Jason. She had been about to, and then he had whipped his gloves off to share some theory of his that the designs in the tattoo reflected the magic one used it for, and she saw how thin and delicate his tattoo still was. For some reason it gave her pause. It made her nervous to share with him.

  Every day, Madeline woke up alone, staring at Shula’s perfectly made bed. They still hadn’t found Shula or the guy who could fly, Diego. The Scim hadn’t returned to battle since the night they took Shula, and although the Elenil knew where the Scim lived, knew where the army had gone, there was no sign of her. The Knight of the Mirror had ridden out two weeks ago looking for her and had returned yesterday, empty handed and grim. It made it difficult to celebrate today, which is what she was supposed to be doing.

  She had chosen a sky-blue dress. The collar came just to the hollow of her neck, and the skirt fell nearly to the floor. It had half-length sleeves, but she had matching gloves to pull over her arms. It was a relief not to wear all white, but she was nervous about the day. She had been told what to expect by Mrs. Raymond. There was a sort of market, and Elenil citizens would mill around, meeting the new arrivals. People would propose to take humans like her and Jason into their households. This was called the Bidding, though no money exchanged hands. This would define what their role would be in the Elenil city and where they would live. Mrs. Raymond’s dorms served as home only to new arrivals and human soldiers.

  If she was taken into an Elenil house, she might be changing linens, serving food, or caring for gardens. Or helping the Elenil with their own duties, which could be a position of high status. If Gilenyia, for instance, took Madeline into her household, people would treat Madeline with enormous respect. Gilenyia had implied more than once that she was considering it, which caused Hanali to hyperventilate, imagining all the wonderful balls and parties they would be invited to attend. He would get a great deal of honor as a result of having been the one who chose Madeline and brought her to the Sunlit Lands.

  However, the idea of living with Gilenyia distressed Madeline. Every time Madeline was with her, she couldn’t help but remember what had happened with Night’s Breath and Jason. She couldn’t help but remember that she had been the one who made the decision—the Scim’s life for her friend’s. She hadn’t told Jason, but he knew something was wrong. She didn’t think he knew how the healing magic worked, or at least not when someone had been mortally wounded, but he suspected something. Because the Scim had not returned since the first battle, there hadn’t been any need for more major healings.

  Instead, she and Jason had been thrown headlong into a sort of training curriculum from Hanali. History, manners, and fashion. Mostly manners, with a strong running commentary on fashion. Hanali seemed particularly concerned about Jason’s performance on all three topics and how that would reflect on him. They had time for other things too. She and Jason had spent some time with his roommates when their schedules matched up, which wasn’t often. She had been “loaned” to Gilenyia more than once for an afternoon, to “assist” in healings of illnesses and minor injuries, whic
h largely meant doing precisely what she was told. A few afternoons had been spent walking in the market or standing on the city walls with Jason, but mostly they had been kept busy, focused, and overwhelmed with fatigue. She fell asleep as soon as she touched her bed at night.

  “Pay attention,” Hanali said.

  The coach had stopped. Madeline had been staring out the window, blankly ignoring the wonders of the Court of Far Seeing. A crowd of coaches lined the avenue. Some were pulled by horses, some by strange, hairless beasts with round faces. An elephant lumbered past with what looked like an entire house on its back. Some strange creature with legs longer than a lamppost walked by, carefully lifting its legs and setting them down between the coaches, wagons, and people making their way. “I’m sorry,” she said earnestly. “I know this is a big day for you.”

  “Yes,” Hanali said haughtily. “As you know, you’re not the only new arrival I have brought to the Court. I need to look after my other graduates as well.”

  “Like Jason,” Madeline said helpfully.

  Hanali’s face clouded, and he sniffed at a handkerchief from his sleeve. He mumbled to himself, “Where is that boy?”

  “He’ll show up.”

  “That is precisely my fear, dear girl.” Hanali stepped out of the coach and handed Madeline down. “As for you, be sure to remember what I have taught you regarding manners.”

  This is where Jason would have said something rude and funny, Madeline thought. She wished he was here. Despite Hanali’s constant assurances otherwise, Madeline was nervous something terrible was about to happen. Only eleven months to go, she told herself. Eleven months and she would be back in the real world. Back with her family, back with Darius, back in her own house. She would be able to breathe, and she could pick up her life where she’d left off. Yes, she’d probably have to start her senior year of high school over, but it would be worth it. It would be worth all of this.

  They ascended a wide marble stairway along with a thousand other people. No one noticed her at first, but then, to Hanali’s delight, a human saw her, gave a little cry of alarm, and scurried off into the crowd. “Someone has sent their people to keep watch for you,” Hanali said. “An excellent sign of what is to come.”

  The building at the top of the stairs was set on a broad marble square. There was plenty of room for people and creatures to mill about, and that is what they did. One large creature, at least twelve feet tall, turned and looked at Madeline with yellow eyes the size of saucers. It had wide, pointed ears, and greenish-brown hair, like moss, covered its entire body. The hair was longer on its arms and legs and moved softly in the breeze. Madeline had no idea if this was another magical race of Sunlit Lands people or someone’s pet. She still had a lot to learn.

  Most people in the crowd were Elenil dressed for a party. Strange oversize hats, shining gowns, and canes seemed to be the prevalent style. Hanali wore a long red jacket that buttoned to the waist, then opened in an inverted V, the tails dragging on the ground. He wore black pants beneath that and tall black boots. He didn’t wear a hat. (“A calculated choice to draw attention in this era of overgrown haberdashery.”) Humans and colorful birds flitted among the Elenil, delivering messages and running errands.

  Hanali led Madeline toward the building beyond the square, a rectangular marble edifice with Greek-style columns on the outside. The building seemed almost pedestrian compared to other things she had seen in Far Seeing. Until they passed the columns.

  The ceiling disappeared, replaced by the vault of the sky. A river wended through the building, surrounded by graceful white trees with golden leaves. Living tables, made by cleverly interweaving the branches of some sort of bush, grew up from the ground. Matching chairs grew next to them. Birds darted back and forth among the people, occasionally flying off to the dark woods in the distance. There was no evidence they were inside a building. “This is the Meadow at World’s End,” Hanali said. “Historians tell us it was here that humans first made the choice to leave the Sunlit Lands. Between those dark trees in the distance lies a way back to your world. The humans gathered here, their belongings packed upon their backs, and made their final farewell to the world of magic, becoming the powerless, dry people you have known. It pleases the archon and the magistrates to welcome our newest citizens here, as a reminder that you have chosen to come home to us.”

  All told, there were about thirty other human teenagers who were there. They all wore clothing like Madeline’s, covered from head to toe in the style of the Elenil, the women wearing ball gowns and the men in formal wear of various kinds.

  “Ah, a fair one,” said a voice to their left. An Elenil woman stared at Madeline through a monocle held up to her face. “It would be diverting to have her in one’s home. She looks nearly Elenil.”

  Hanali bowed deeply. “Were she not so young, lady, I daresay she might be mistaken for one of us.”

  “Indeed,” said the woman. “Well done, Hanali, that you found such a child and brought her here.”

  Hanali bowed his head slightly. “It is an honor that you would consider bidding upon her, lady.”

  “She’s a package deal, though,” Jason said, strolling casually into the clearing. To say his outfit was an assault on the eyes would be generous. He wore a tuxedo with a frilled shirt, but the shirt was sunshine yellow. His pants had one bright-red leg and one bright-green leg. The jacket was baby blue on one side and pale green on the other. He had an orange top hat, and the whole ensemble was overlaid with sequins. The brim of his top hat had bells sewn into it, so when he cocked his head, it jingled.

  The Elenil woman smiled politely at Hanali and moved along.

  “What is this monstrosity?” Hanali hissed. He rubbed the material between his fingers. “What is this cheap cloth? I have never seen the like.”

  Jason twirled. The back panels of the jacket were still more colors. He looked like the place where rainbows go to die. “In my homeland we call this a tuxedo,” Jason said. “They are very popular for weddings and prom dates.”

  Madeline laughed so hard her ribs ached. The astonishing garishness of the tuxedo went beyond anything she could have imagined. “I think you look dashing,” she said, wiping tears from her eyes.

  Jason swept the hat from his head and bowed low. “Thank you, my lady. And as you can see, your dress matches my jacket.” He looked seriously at his jacket for a moment, as if trying to find something he had lost. “Riiiiight . . . here.” He pointed to a pocket square on his chest. It was, indeed, the identical color of her dress.

  “It does not even match itself,” Hanali said. “You will change at once or suffer the consequences.”

  “What consequences? Our deal was that I had to come for a year and stay devoted to Madeline. If she wants me to change, I will.” He turned toward her and adjusted his pink-and-green paisley bow tie with his gloved hands—one glove white, the other purple.

  She took his hand, a wave of affection coming over her. “You look delightful.”

  Jason grinned. Hanali, unable to contain his despair, stalked off into the crowd.

  Jason leaned close and said, “You know, I don’t think that Elenil lady even needed a monocle. She was putting on airs.”

  Madeline put her arm through Jason’s. “Putting on airs, huh?”

  He nodded with great solemnity. “I heard that in a movie once.”

  A bird about the size of a parrot settled on Jason’s head. Black feathers radiated out around its eyes, and emerald-green ones made a ridge down its back. “Your presence is requested,” the bird said, “at the seat of the magistrates.”

  Madeline curtsied. “It would be our pleasure.”

  The bird turned its head sideways. “Only you are invited, lady.”

  Jason reached up with his hands, feeling the bird. “Is this a monkey or a cat or what? I can’t see it past my hat.”

  “A bird, sir!” The bird ruffled its feathers. “A cat! How impertinent.”

  “More impertinent than sitti
ng on someone’s head?” Jason wondered aloud.

  “Follow me,” the bird said and, with a great deal of flapping and fluttering, leapt from Jason’s head, knocking his top hat so aggressively Jason had to use his hands to keep it on.

  Madeline gathered her skirts and did her best to follow the bird’s path, but between the uneven ground, the other people in the crowd, and the trees they had to weave between, it was hard going. Jason helped as best as he was able, giving her his hand when necessary.

  The bird sat on a branch and called back to Jason, “You are not invited, sir!”

  Jason snorted. “I doubt a bird is in charge of the invitations.”

  The bird ruffled its feathers. “On your own head be it if you should anger the magistrates.”

  The magistrates were the rulers of the Court of Far Seeing. This had been drilled into Madeline and Jason during their lessons, so that they would not make a social faux pas in the presence of the leaders. There were nine of them, with three who were considered “first among equals.” One, the chief magistrate, was known simply as the archon. The archon was named Thenody. Another magistrate was called the polemarch: Tirius, who was in charge of the army of Elenil. Then, lastly, there was the basileus, Prinel, who oversaw celebrations, rituals, and remembrances. Another six magistrates, equal but lesser, oversaw day-to-day matters, problems, and difficulties within the Court of Far Seeing.

  The bird led them along a forested path that descended into a ravine. A stream ran through the center. Madeline had a dizzying moment when she tried to think about whether they were still inside a building or if they had somehow been transported outside. Ahead of them lay a tower, tall and stark white, with a stairway that grew along the outside edge like ivy. There was no railing. The bird perched on a stone at the bottom of the stairs. “They await you on the highest observation deck,” it said.