Dark Swan Ebook, page 8
“You’re more irritating than funny.”
“I see you still need to learn more about comedic timing.” He cleared his throat, returning to the topic at hand. “These creatures keep the balance between seasons, so I need you to be on your best behavior while I discuss the plan with them. They need to trust us, to believe that we won’t turn on them and steal the magic for ourselves—”
“You mean yourself. Remember, I don’t have magic.”
He groaned, rolling his neck. “Without their help, completing our mission will be very difficult.”
“You haven’t really explained the mission.”
“You will learn all about it during the meeting. That is why you must remain on your best behavior.”
Before he could say another word, the waiter returned with our food. He placed both bowls down, accompanying them with a plate with two brown buns with a white glaze over the top. “Enjoy.”
I felt the jinni’s eyes on me, his words echoing in my mind. The mission, the whole reason I was here was because he thought I was a furie, and that I could help him get his magic back. It reminded me he wasn’t human—he was a creature, my captor. I felt at ease around him, but the warning echoed in my mind to not trust anyone.
I should know better than to start trusting someone.
“Go on,” he said, pushing the plate a little toward me. “Try it.”
I pulled the plate closer by my fork, the glass screeching as the metal glided across it. “These aren’t going to kill me?” I asked as I stabbed the bun and twisted off a piece.
“Not in the least. I’m the last being to want you dead, Meris. You need to at least give me that much trust.”
I chewed the inside of my cheek, trying to pick apart his words and sense any lie woven between them. Assuring myself I would be fine, I took a bite. His eyes watched me eagerly as I put it into my mouth.
The sugar… the cinnamon. Oh, heaven!
“This!” A smile I couldn’t contain lifted my lips. “I love this,” I said through mouthfuls of the bun. “You know,” I mumbled, pulling the plate closer so the whole thing was in front of me, “it’s unfortunate he didn’t separate the things, since I’m going to eat them both.”
Setizar laughed, leaning back and watching me. “So, you like it?”
I nodded, closing my eyes. “I’ve never tasted anything better.”
His voice was tinged with bitterness and sorrow, though joy coursed through his tone as he said, “That makes me happy.”
14
The entrance to the city was an arrangement of vibrant colors. Despite being midday, the sky was the deep indigo of a moonless night speckled with stars. The buildings were ornate, with reaching banisters carved like whitewashed bones out into the checkered streets. Purple scarves billowed behind women dressed in tight fitting corsets, knee-high petticoats, and silver-plated boots. Men wore top hats of varying sizes and shapes.
I stepped out of the carriage. “Where are we?” I asked as the fresh autumn breeze drifted through the orange forest surrounding us.
“The heart of Yamira, a place which exists outside our rules. It was governed long ago by Megaera, but she hasn’t shown herself here since long before the Silver Queen.” The jinni pointed his chin to the wrought-iron gate, carved like dead vines and encased in shadows. “Stay in the light. Wherever the shadows linger without the flicker of flame to banish, don’t trod. Remember,” he touched my shoulder, “you’re a warrior. Not a woman. Not a human. Not anything but a warrior.”
Though I was confused, I nodded.
He said a few things to the carriage driver, directing him to where we’d be staying, and turned back to me. “Come along.”
I followed him without a second thought.
Creatures half my size with delicate butterfly wings fluttered just above us, while round orbs of white light floated in the dark alleys.
A faun stood to our left, waving his hands in the air and shouting, “A ride through the skies! Wish to fly? Now’s your chance!”
I stole a glance at the price: One important memory.
“Does something interest you?” the jinni asked, standing beside me. “Ah, the flying carriage. It’s a fun thing to do if you don’t mind parting with some important memories.”
I nodded, chewing my lip. The craft—a sleek black carriage-like thing with whorls of gold painted on the doors—was roofless, with a cozy red-velvet seat big enough for two people to ride. “How do you fly it?”
The jinni grinned. “It flies itself. Guided by magic, of course.”
I fought a smile. Thoughts of the open air surrounding me and the crisp feel of the wind weaving cool fingers through my hair bombarded my mind. “It would be fun to do, you know?”
“Take a ride?”
“Yes. Sort of.” I looked at him, carefully assessing if he’s up to mischief. “It would be fun. I wish I could fly—to see the world from the sky.”
He stared at me for a long moment, his eyes revealing nothing. “Perhaps one day you will.”
I managed a smile. It was odd when he suddenly became soft and sentimental, looking at me as if he’d known me since the dawn of time. However, I got the feeling he was telling me not to make this deal. Not to trade an important memory.
“Well!” He clapped his hands. “I must be off to be sure the meeting is still on. I will send for you once everything is settled and I’m certain our arrival will be perfect. The town is a very safe place, so you are free to wander wherever you please. Just don’t trade your soul, or heart, or anything remotely valuable. Avoid the fortune tellers, they’re all con artists.” He released a sigh, glancing back at the magical sky carriage ride. “If you want anything, speak with me before making a bargain. It’s a dangerous thing to do here.”
“Alright.”
The jinni smiled, obviously pleased with himself, then proceeded to tap the cuff on my wrist. “I’ll find you in about an hour.” He vanished before I could reply.
Alone, I turned and trudged off into town. The faces which turned to look at me were a variety of shapes, colors, and, in some cases, faceless.
A creature blocked my path, nothing but a monocle and mustache visible on his face. The town glittered to life behind the monocle, assuring me he was indeed completely transparent. His top hat was as tall as the walking stick he had in his white gloved hand, which he took off and bowed. “Care to enter the library?” he asked in a lilting, cut-glass accent.
“N-no—”
“Ah! Who’s this?” A man appeared from around the corner. His body below the sharp suit looked to be made of branches, twigs, and knotted vines. His head was a pumpkin, with two sideways triangles for eyes and jagged points for a mouth. That wasn’t even the strangest thing. His pumpkin head was on fire. He swept into a bow, his gash of a smile widening. “Care to tell us your name?” he asked in a bemused tone.
“I’m…I’ve gone mad.”
“Oh?” he said, his voice carrying through the clove-scented air like a giggle. “I like mad people. All the best people are mad.”
“You—” I shuffled back.
The pumpkin man stopped in his prancing, angling his head and taking me in. Recognition fluttered over his face, and he asked, “What are you?”
“Jack,” said the invisible man. “You don’t just ask someone what species they are.”
“I didn’t ask her species, Libby.” Jack grabbed a fistful of fire from his head, twining it between his spindly fingers. “She’s in Nightmore now. I was asking what she sees herself as, obviously.”
“For all things—” Libby drew a hand over his non-existent face. “You’re such a pain.”
Jack snickered. “I do try.”
I had to brace myself on the fence behind me.
Jack threw me a pensive glance. “Don’t let him fool you, he loves me.”
The invisible man clicked his tongue. “Love covers a multitude of sins, but it does nothing to aid you in gaining some brains.”
Jack’s smile vanished, and I half expected Libby to apologize. An eerie silence settled over the world, washing my nerves in tight waves of anticipation. Perhaps they’d have it out right there. Perhaps they’ll demand the other apologize for their actions and words…
“I can show you around town, if you like,” Jack said, ripping me away from my own mental wandering. “I’m an excellent guide!”
“If you accept his offer, beware!” Libby gestured to Jack. “He’s hot-headed and is apt to cause nothing but trouble.”
I swallowed and nodded. “Thank you, but I think I can find my own way.”
They bowed, though Jack looked less than happy to say his farewells before they vanished within the crowd of creatures. I didn’t waste a single second before setting off again.
“Potions! Elixirs! Companions! Sold for the small price of a memory!”
“A slip of conscience is all that’s needed to buy my wares, don’t listen to that fellow!”
“Mine are far better!”
“No, no, you just charge more!”
The voices slashed at my ears like claws. A building off to the side, with ‘fortune teller’ stenciled on the outside in gold letters caught my attention. I slipped inside.
Pink smoke swirled through the room, sweeping up a maelstrom of glitter in its heady body. It smelled like berries and tonka beans, resting a heavy scent of caramel in my nose. Small ornaments of origami dangled from the ceiling, caressed by the vapor.
A male with a bulbous face and body turned to me. His skin more blue than a summer sky, clothed by layers upon layers of pink, gold, and emerald garments. “Welcome to the Calla Tapir, the one stop emporium of curiosities and remedies. What can I help you with today?” He put a strange pipe to his lips and inhaled before expelling glittering pink smoke.
“I just came in here to escape the crowd.”
The creature smiled, gesturing to a purple armchair. “Most do. Come and rest yourself. The town can be quite agonizing.” He took another drag, and his eyes drank me in, hooded and lazy. “For a secret, I can tell you your future.”
“Why a secret?”
“Secrets are far better currency, my lady. Men have bargained their souls to keep them hidden.”
I inhaled, coughing the candy-sweet smoke clawing into my throat. “What kind of secret?”
“One that you would rather no one knows.”
My face burned red. What sort of secret would I rather people not know? What one thing would I like to keep hidden? Chester’s name surfaced, and I turned my head. I couldn’t tell him that. I couldn’t release something so dark. The memory—the secret I’ve hidden from everyone.
He took another long drag, expelling the smoke into impatient rings. Waiting. Waiting for me to reveal this thing inside.
Tears stung my eyes. “How does the secret exchange work?”
“You place your hand here,” he gestured to a gold mirror —“and think of the secret. The exchange is painless and immediate. No returns.”
“Do I also get to keep it? Or does it…disappear?”
“Of course. It’s a secret, dear one, not a memory.”
I stepped forward, glancing at the mirror. A jolt of guilt spiked through me. I knew what I could exchange.
I placed my hand against the cold glass, closing my eyes. I remembered heading up the stairs and seeing the creature called Tatum. His glowing red eyes, his shadowy form, and the words he’d spoken.
A second later, I stepped away. The blue man smiled wide, yellowing teeth gleaming. “That’s a beautiful secret.” He scratched his swollen chin, the fat jiggling and shimmering. “Here is your future: You will find your purpose. Denial of becoming anything other than what you are will be your constant, but you will embrace it soon enough.”
I groaned. Right, I was conned… This was what Setizar had warned me about. “Thanks,” I breathed out, underwhelmed. “I’m going to go now. Thanks for letting me crash here for a bit.”
He bowed his head, though he looked a little more alert, a little more awake than before. “Pleasure was mine.”
–– ☾ ––
I kicked a bone-white rock on my way down the street. I couldn’t seem to make heads or tails of this place. I wanted to go home and lay in bed.
Home.
I didn’t have a home here. I just had a room. I fought the urge to scream curses into the sky.
My stomach growled, pushing against the walls of my abdomen. I wondered if there was anything here I could buy…
“Meris.”
I spun, seeing the jinni standing there behind me. “What?”
“We are going to have lunch. Aurel and Lhysa have already arrived.”
I shrugged, but since I was hungry, I could put up with him for a bit. “What are we eating?”
“Anything you like.”
“I could use a sandwich and some tea.”
“I’m certain that’s available.” He smiled, extending his arm for me to take. “I only ask one thing: please, be careful when speaking during this meeting.”
After the day I’d had, this weird jinni was the least of my worries. I looped my arm around his. Would he figure out I disobeyed and gave a secret away for a fortune? He did say that fortunes in this realm weren’t good. Schooling my features to look as passive as I could, I resumed our conversation, sifting up some irritability. “You said that already. Why do I have to watch my words so closely?”
“Aurel is a touchy, dramatic creature. If you antagonize him, he will begin to reciprocate. Anything can be seen as antagonizing, so be careful.”
I nodded.
We walked through the streets, heading toward a small eatery off the corner by the library.
The doors swung open, and a ruckus greeted us. Loud clattering of plates, scraping of silverware, and heated words rang through the air.
“Lucky for us,” the jinni whispered in my ear, directing me to the side, “we have a room reserved. We don’t need to hear this. Well, not as much.”
My stomach hardened. But once we entered the room, my gaze shifted to the two other occupants. A woman with skin as dark as mahogany and eyes the hue of a starless night stayed seated, while the man with long, golden hair rose. He was gorgeous, the living personification of the carved gods in the gardens of the Gathbreds. Eyes of purest silver sliced in my direction as his smile split his golden beard.
“Setizar.” The man bowed mockingly, his muscles tightening in an impressive display. “Who is your companion?”
“Her name is Meris,” the jinni said flatly, drawing out my name to a sharp point.
“And what is she?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know.” His eyes sparkled. “Now, shall we get started?”
Tension bracketed the man’s mouth as he made a gesture to the seats beside him.
“Good to see you, Lhysa.” The jinni dipped his head. “How are things in Spring?”
The woman lifted her chin, dark eyes sliding from Setizar to Aurel. “Sunny and cool, unlike in Summer where everyone is roasting like a prize chicken at a feast.”
The jinni chuckled and looked at the golden-haired man, shadows wreathing those pink-orange eyes. “Aurel, are you not going to defend yourself?”
“No,” he said, crossing his arms, shrugging off the insult like an unwanted coat. “I prefer to wait for Eira to arrive before I say anything else. Wouldn’t want my beautiful comebacks to go unappreciated.”
“Speaking of Eira,” the jinni looked around. “There’s been too much snow piling into the Crimson Plane. The maze is absolutely arctic. I need to ask her to tone it down.”
“Why don’t you just call your sector Autumn like everyone else?” Aurel groaned. “And maybe you’ll get your blasted leaves to skid back up to the north. I hate how my people have to keep raking up that mess.”
“Speaking of things that annoy,” Lhysa snapped, her lips pressed into a flat line as she glared at Aurel. “It’s getting so warm that the flowers have begun to wilt and in some cases burn. You need to go and check those summer runes you have at your borders.”
“Do you know how much work that is?”
“I do,” she said. “If you don’t check them then I will have to send you a bill to create more runes.”
Aurel growled.
“How much would it cost to make one? Seven important memories will do. I’m sure you have dozens upon dozens to shed in all your four-hundred years of existence.”
“I have possibly four, and no more. Either you’d have to find a different form of payment, or someone else will need to give up their memories to make your precious runes.” Aurel shed his casual demeanor and released one last feral smile. “It would be a shame, a real shame.”
Before Lhysa could snap back, the door opened and the room dropped to a frozen temperature, as if winter itself had begun to stroke my bones.
“Ah!” Aurel stood. “Eira. It looks like you’re fashionably late, as usual.”
The woman wore a dress as green as the forest floor, crafted from what seemed like withered vines. Her slanted eyes found mine, one as dark as midnight and one as icy as a winter frost. “I haven’t missed you, Aurel.” She settled into a seat with the grace and manner of a queen. “Lhysa.”
“Eira,” said the dark-skinned woman, her brow quirking up. There seemed to be a strange rift between these two. One exuded warmth and comfort, while the other was hewn from the frost and bitter ice of unforgiving winter.
“Setizar.” Eira tilted her head, ignoring the pointed stare from Lhysa.
“Eira.”
My gaze bounced between the four beings in the room, unsure and worried of what might happen. The clanking of forks on the glass, the sound of plates clinking, and the smacking of food created a chaotic melody that I wanted to escape.
Aurel’s voice cut through the noise. “You don’t look yourself, Alecto. Is everything alright?”
I blinked, a hum buzzing in my ears. What did he just say?
Aurel dabbed his mouth, as if he hadn’t said something jarring.
“Aurel!” Eira hissed. “Why did you say that?”
“Don’t you think she bears an uncanny resemblance to Setizar’s long lost love?”
