The Duelist 4, page 21
Jenner handed the headpieces to Zoie, and she put the one with navy-blue and black feather branches on top of my head. On her own, she then put on the one with spiraling royal-blue branches that complemented her captivating eyes.
“Don’t you look marvelous,” the koala-man chuckled. “Now, let’s make our way closer to the Palace. The Fire Sky show is about to start.”
The rest of The Crew minus Vel and Bodin were gathered around a small fountain where a pair of Sacred Fish spouted out water. All of them were wearing fascinators on their heads in various gemstone colors, and some, like Shay and the Mec sisters, even had costumes with elaborate shoulder pads that also matched their tree-hats.
“I feel like we’re under-dressed,” I remarked when Zoie and I sauntered up with our mead.
“Hello, darlings!” Shay greeted, and my eyes tracked her body from the top of her vibrant red tree-headdress, to the gnarled branches sprouting from her epaulets, to her swarthy gown the color of a brilliant sunset. “You both are right on time.”
“Dad!” Rylan said, and I couldn’t help but laugh at the singular green branch sprouting from his head like a Who in Whoville.
“Hey, bud!” I flung an arm around his shoulders so I could give him a rough hug. “Did you spend all your gold?”
“Yeah!” He grinned. “There was a man selling big legs of roasted meat, and I wanted to get two of them, but Uncle Horus said no, but it turned out to be a good thing because I threw up after Noona and I got done riding on the spinning rides. But I’m better now.”
“Well, that’s gross,” I snorted.
“It was,” he laughed. “Horus said he was amazed I could even hold that much.”
“It’s true,” Horus broke in with a mock-horrified expression. “Next Festival, you can take him.”
I threw my head back and laughed as I clapped Horus on the shoulder. “Thanks for entertaining the cretin while Zoie and I took care of some business.”
“Everything alright?” he queried. “You should have seen Jenner. He was about to call a search party.”
“Everything’s been handled,” I said, and we both watched Rylan regale Zoie with the same story he just told me while his friend Noona stood by and filled in here and there. “Hey, H? What do you know about Clan Thorn?”
There was a beat where Horus froze as if caught on the backfoot, but the moment passed, and he cleared his throat. “As much as anybody, I suppose. They are one of the four known clans on Nata, and they hate Duelists. Standard. What-- why do you want to know?”
“Why do you do that?” I asked him instead.
“Do what?” His eyes darted to the side for a moment before he willed them to stay on mine.
“You get all flighty and weird if I ask you things about the Mercenaries.” I scrutinized his nervous behavior and replayed a conversation Shay and I had not too long ago in my head. “I know you were part of a clan, and how possibly one of them helped you out when you were on the lam after we took out Doler.”
“Er…” The falcon-man hedged and bit his lip.
“Does this have anything to do with the Wolfman Tribes?” I stared him directly in the eye.
“I can’t say,” he sighed and fiddled with one of his fingerless gloves.
“Can’t or won’t?” I challenged.
“Can’t,” he repeated, and the weight of his words translated a deeper meaning.
“Like… by magic or something?” I gathered I was right when I saw him purse his lips. “Okay. But it’s more than that, too. Last time the subject was brought up, you danced around it almost like… you’re protecting them. If you are, that’s fine, but I’m asking you because I’m pretty sure I have a target on my back, and Clan Thorn has put it there. That is, if it wasn’t already there to begin with.”
The falcon-man gaped a few times in shock and swallowed thickly, but then he firmed his jaw as he seemed to come to a conclusion.
“I owe a debt to-to…” Horus paled and stopped as if some invisible hand was physically cutting off his words.
“Hey, don’t if it hurts,” I said and handed him the rest of my mead so he could take a drink.
“I want to tell you about One-- Onefa…” he croaked and then took a swig of mead. “Darkhell.”
“It’s okay.” I frowned in concern and glanced up to see Shay looking curiously in our direction.
“I cannot break the vow of silence un-until…” The falcon-man grimaced as a faint sweat broke out on his face, but he shook it off and took another bracing drink of the strong alcohol. “Ahem. What I can do… is put my ear to the wind. When I was mixed up in the clans, there was always a baseline of communal understanding-- bartering, and exchanging intel-- that sort of thing. But Clan Thorn was the most mysterious and tried to isolate themselves as much as they could. Naturally, this made the other clans suspicious, and I do know Clan Thorn isn’t completely invulnerable to mole-mites and spies.”
“That’s all I ask,” I said and patted him on the shoulder, but I filed his concerning behavior away for later. “Now, what about this fire show I keep hearing about?”
“The Fire Sky show is right before the sun sets, so any moment now,” Horus said, and we both turned our attention to the general merrymaking.
The feel was similar to how I’d seen families celebrate the Fourth of July in the past. Shay even had a big picnic blanket Amaya was helping her set up next to the fountain, and Anwaar and Zoie were gathering more mead for anybody that didn’t have a tankard, sans the kids.
“Just a little one?” Rylan pleaded with Zoie as he helped her pass two large mugs to Arvid.
“They don’t make them in ‘little,’ little one,” she chided. “But you may have one sip of mine.”
I laughed and snagged two mugs myself so I could hand one each to Shay and Amaya, who were still struggling with the blanket because they couldn’t decide if they had it the right way around.
“Are you certain this is the top?” the oryx-woman asked, and when she tilted her head, the turquoise leaves she wrapped around her silver horns tinkled lightly.
“Well, now I’m not so sure because the coarse stitching on the other side is quite fetching,” Shay said diplomatically.
“Pick the side that’s most comfortable?” I shrugged as I added my less-than-two-cents on the subject of throw blankets.
“Whatever you do, pick quick because the show is going to begin,” Anwaar commented with a blasé expression as she played with the dark purple vines twining around her impressive ibex-horns.
Sure enough, a loud whistling noise pierced the air, and a rocket the color of molten gold streaked across the rosy twilight sky. Vendors stopped what they were doing and closed up their stalls, minstrels packed away their instruments, and people ran around trying to find a place to settle in before the show started.
The Crew and I all piled onto the rumpled blanket and all sprawled out in a chaotic yet comfortable mess that made my heart and lungs feel full with how easygoing it was.
Another rocket, black this time, was shot off from the Palace, and a hush fell over the Square all at once as if this was the cue for the next phase of the Mid-Crescent Festival.
It was so quiet that the sound of the singing forest could be heard drifting over the rooftops.
“And now, the Crescendo,” Zoie whispered into my ear as her silky tail wrapped around my wrist.
Like the title implied, the voices crescendoed through the night like the beginning of Carmina Burana while the Palace launched what seemed like the finale of their fireworks show all at once.
The sky really did look like it caught fire, and despite the overlapping booms threatening to render me deaf, the singing never faded into the background but instead burrowed into my soul like it lived there. Overall, this effect combined with the deep percussion of the fireworks raised the hair on the back of my neck and left me breathless with exhilaration.
When it was over, I couldn’t help but jump to my feet like everyone else and add my thunderous applause to the smoke-filled sky.
“Asher Brightwood,” a voice that rumbled like the depths of the earth said from behind me, and I turned around to see a tall man with the features of a T-rex staring at me. His big square head was cocked slightly to the side as if it was difficult for him to focus on me with both eyes at the same time. “How did you find your first Mid-Crescent Festival?”
I remembered what Mec told me about the weird greeting ritual Terrans did because they were paranoid based on the way their eyes were positioned, and I tried to remain in sight of the imposing man out of respect.
Because I knew exactly who this was, and I knew it was time to summon the Alex who fake-knew how to rub elbows with high society.
My “favorite.”
I smiled and turned up the charm.
Chapter 18
“Regent Sskorn,” I said with a short bow. “It’s nice to finally make your acquaintance.”
“You already know of me?” The man blinked and cocked his head so he had one vivid blue eye trained on me, but other than that, his tone and his face were as emotionless as ever.
Even more than Councilman Sha-Kane, who was a near-perfect study in stoicism.
“Ambassador Sskern speaks highly of you,” I said.
“Yes, it seems as if my brother has taken to his Ambassadorship with zeal typical of a warm-blood,” he said, and the way he said “warm-blood” made me think it was a derogatory phrase. “He seems to think you might know a thing about settling peace.”
“He is too kind, but all I really have to offer is the perspective of a foreigner, nothing more, and nothing less,” I said, and I hoped I came across as neutrally genial.
“Hm,” he grunted and scanned me slowly from head to toe. “That remains to be seen.”
“Regent, it is lovely to meet you,” Shay said with effortless social grace as she floated up next to me with Zoie in tow. “I am Shale-Lea, Asher Brightwood’s second wife, and this is Zoie of Vartha, his first.”
“Pleased to meet you, Regent Sskorn,” Zoie said on cue and tipped her tree-adorned head, and I knew she was nervous about practicing her High Society manners just as much as I was, if not more so.
Good thing we both had Shay with us.
“Regent, the Ambassador is staying at our estate after the Ball this evening at Icarian,” the phoenix-woman added in her melodious voice. “The invitation is, of course, extended to you to join us at the head banquet table, and if you so choose, a suite will be provided to you as well for the night. Please say you will accept?”
“Your hospitality is well met,” Sskorn said with a stony nod. “I do not fancy staying at the Inn in the Battle Hall. I will make arrangements to have my things transferred to your estate.”
“We’d be honored,” I said.
After the formal invitations were doled out to the dino-like Regent Sskorn, the crowd started to disband for the night which meant, as said hosts-of-honor, we all had to high-tail it back to Icarian to get ready for the after party.
This also meant another costume change.
But only for me.
“Why do I have to wear this again?” I asked my faithful koala-butler as he stood on a little stool in front of me and fussed with the heavy fur mantle draped across my shoulders.
“It is tradition for the Asher hosting the Ball to dress as Thaton Uul once used to,” Jenner explained and adjusted the weighty brass clasp across my chest. “At the end of the Ball, you raise a brazier full of very flammable alcohol to the dangling torch. And then blow out the flame in one breath. It’s an art form, really.”
“I really should have read those books,” I groaned and looked down at my ensemble. “Is this material flame retardant?”
“Oh, yes, urfox fur is very resistant to flames,” he said and placed a hat that looked like a taxidermized fox-slash-bear head on top of me. “What do you think the second purpose for this suit is? Now, hold your hands out for the gloves.”
“Uh, Mr. Jenner, do I really have to wear everything now?” I eyed the pair of claw gauntlets under the snout of my Davy Crockett nightmare.
“Hm? Oh, dear, I see what you mean,” he said and adjusted his monocle. “Maybe just the fur cloak for now. But I’ll keep everything on hand for when the torch happens.”
“Yeah, that’d be good,” I chuckled and tried to fix my hair that was doing this weird cow-licky thing.
“My love?” Zoie appeared in the mirror over my shoulder as she poked her head into this small vanity chamber Jenner had me trapped in. “Our carriage is here ready to take us to the Jewel House. Are you ready?”
“Almost.” I tsked as the cowlick insisted on evading my tactics. “Shit.”
“Let me,” she said, and she came into the room clad in the blue halter skirt number she favored for such high-end political galas.
“Hey, gorgeous,” I said when she turned me to face her so she could tame my unruly hair. “They made you change, too?”
“I wanted to clean up so I could be worthy to stand in the ceremony at your side,” she said and ran her fingers through my hair.
“You don’t have to worry about that,” I scoffed.
“But I want you to look the best you can in front of these mongers, and I don’t want my presence to hurt you in any way,” she confessed.
“Just keep your eyes on me,” I said and caressed her cheek. “Because I’m not going to focus on any of them, so you shouldn’t, either. Nobody’s opinion matters but our own.”
“You’re right,” she breathed and tucked some of my hair behind my ear. “I will never be as gracious as our Shale-Lea, so I will always be nervous at your side as your first wife.”
“I think you’re doing great,” I said, and then I kissed her on the nose. “How do I look?”
“Striking,” she purred as she tangled her fingers through my hair.
By the way she was throwing me those bedroom eyes, I could tell she found me attractive with longer hair, but I would need to trim it before long just for utility purposes.
But as long as she kept looking at me like that, I guess I could let it go a little longer.
“The pair of you are quite stunning, now come along, your guests are waiting,” Jenner said and hurried us out the door and into the carriage.
What took place next was probably the closest I’d ever get to feeling like royalty in my life because when we were announced at the top of the stairs, everyone stopped what they were doing to cheer and applaud.
“This place looks amazing,” I said to Shay on my left arm as I ogled the transformed space.
Instead of a mostly-empty and overgrown greenhouse with a busted fountain, the phoenix-woman had revamped the interior to reflect the exterior.
The Jewel House was aptly named because it was made from the finest Omite sun glass, and in the daytime it looked like the Disney Opera House and a Swarovski store had a baby. With this in mind, strand upon strand of sun glass crystals were suspended from nearly invisible silk strands along the ceiling, and the crystals dangled from overhead like it was raining a multitude of rainbow crystals.
Several round tables lined the walls and left the center open, where it was safe to assume some sort of neat live entertainment would take place. In the meantime, the fountain had been upgraded to a large circular pool with the water feature suspended overhead so the water made interesting patterns as it fell from the ceiling.
“You really have outdone yourself,” Zoie commented as we were escorted down the main center aisle and up to the high table where Mec and Redburn were already seated.
“It was a struggle to maintain control over the vision with Zyn and Tre involved,” Shay said through a false smile. “To get them to back down from wanting to go too over the top, I had to promise them a table near the head, so watch yourselves.”
The table in question was one away from the main one at the head of the banquet hall, and by the way I could see the two colorful bird-women already sinking their hook-eyes into us from afar, I knew we weren’t going to get by without stopping.
“Shale-Lea!” Zyn and Tre both exclaimed in unison as they rose as one clump of forest it seemed like. Their headpieces and matching epaulets made them look like odd yellow and pink palm trees, and the vibrancy of the conflicting colors made my eyes water.
“Ladies.” Shay curtsied like the polite hostess she was. “How are you finding everything? To your liking, I hope?”
“Oh, it is beautiful,” the woman who looked like a bird of paradise said, and the magenta trees on her shoulders shook with the little shimmy she gave.
“Splendid,” the toucan-woman with the striking colors on her face added. “It really did come together in the end, didn’t it? Although, I think it would have been better if--”
“Thank you again for all of your help and expertise,” my phoenix-wife smoothly interjected. “Please, avail yourselves of all Icarian has to offer.”
And with that social niceties out of the way, we were finally able to take our seats at the head table.
“Alex, my friend!” Mec boomed in his jovial voice, and by the rosiness of his cheeks, I could already tell he’d had quite a lot of mead. “You and your beautiful wives have simply outdone yourselves.”
“Oh, I agree,” Breeta, the ram-lord’s second wife, enthused as she patted the green and blue tree fascinator on her head. “There is no way we could ever turn a ballroom or one of the halls at the palace into such a place of splendor. Come, sit, friends!”
The parakeet-woman patted the space on the cushioned booth next to her, and my wives and I slipped in so we were at the center of the large ovular table.
It felt a little weird holding court at one of these things for once, and I adjusted the heavy fur mantle around my shoulders and tried not to portray my nervousness.
“Good to see you, Brightwood,” the man with the long jackrabbit ears across from me said.
“Dreadful Redburn, how have you been?” I grinned at the man and clasped his forearm from across the table.
“Thank you for your gracious invitation to partake in this sumptuous ball,” Redburn said and took another tankard of mead from one of the passing servers.
