by M. Woodruff
Nels ground his teeth together, like he couldn’t have figured that out. He shut his mind down quickly, though, before he started calling her names in his head. Yes, he definitely needed some alone time—the sooner the better.
“Here you are.” Anon opened a door for Casandra. Nels didn’t even bother to peek in. But he did hear her “ooohs” and “aaahs” as he hurried on down the hallway. Hoping Anon wouldn’t be calling him back to say that his room was just across the way.
He didn’t. Instead he came practically dancing down the hall to catch up with Nels. The soles of Anon’s boots must have been slick as glass because he never lifted his feet, he just glided forward sashaying from side-to-side, twirling his cuffs. When he caught up to Nels, he stuck his earlobe out, pierced with a rather large ruby earring. “Plays music,” he said, grinning, still moving his feet.
“What?”
“You can buy these with recorded music on them. We’re not supposed to wear them while working, but no one really minds as long as we do our jobs.” Anon shrugged. “Come on, your room’s up a couple of floors.”
“Wait! Can I hear the music?”
“Yeah, I guess. Put your ear next to it,” he said as he pulled his hair away from his ear.
Sure enough, Nels could faintly hear what sounded like heavy drum beats and a woman with an alluring voice singing. It didn’t sound bad—no wonder the kid was dancing.
“Hmm, you can just buy these, you say?” He imagined himself being able to listen to the music he used to hear played in The Rickety Inn, usually a bard singing with a lute. What he wouldn’t give to be back there now, listening with his belly full, his feet propped up on a chair, a mug of ale in his hand.
“Oh yeah, there’s a shop that sells them with all kinds of music. Even stuff old people like you might like.”
Suddenly, Nels thought the real thing was sure to be much better than some stupid earring recording, any day.
“Well, come on, we’ll have to take the lift. I don’t want to take the stairs.”
Nels followed along behind Anon to the glass doors at the end of the hallway. He had expected there was a balcony there and wasn’t surprised to see that it was so, but he was surprised to see that it was completely enclosed in glass and as soon as the doors shut began to move upwards. Deciding not to showcase his ignorance to this whippersnapper, he slouched into a casual stance, humming, and absolutely refusing to look outside the glass enclosure, even though curiosity was tugging at him tremendously.
The lift suddenly stopped and back in the palace Anon led him to a door immediately to the left. “Here you are. Call if you need anything, but it probably won’t be me that answers. See ya,” Anon said, giving Nels a quick salute before heading back out to the lift.
“Yeah, see ya,” Nels called, returning his salute to Anon’s retreating back.
Shutting the door, Nels surveyed his room and was pleasantly surprised. The wall, floor, and ceiling were all made of a smooth gray stone. There was no shine, but instead thick carvings of various trees embedded within the rock. The furniture was simple black wood, and the bed appeared plump and full with a midnight coverlet. There was a fire burning in the large fireplace with the only ode to color that Nels could see—sparkling emeralds, again, carved into leaf shapes dotted the interior. The clear glass windows let in the daylight, but Nels wondered how much light the room would have at night when the only light would come from the onyx sconces hanging on the walls.
Not having to resist the urge anymore, Nels practically bounded to the window and stepped out on a real open-aired balcony upon which sat a small table and chair. He leaned out over the amethyst railing and froze. Amethyst? Turning around and really seeing the palace for the first time—he had been too busy ignoring it on the lift to notice—he saw that the whole building face was a deep rich purple in the shadow and a gleaming violet in the sunlight.
He turned back around to stare at the vast landscape and saw the palace was perched on one of many silver mountains that looked as if they had actually been crafted by master silversmiths, so unreal they were. Smooth and shiny in places, rocky and dull in others. He even imagined he caught a glimpse of the tarnish normally found on real silver. Surely, no one would polish those slick surfaces. Interconnecting the mountain heights were silver and white-stone walkways where Nels could see people strolling and carriages trundling along. On the tiers of the mountains there looked to be groups of buildings from shops to possibly residences, mixed with greenery.
Looking down, he saw the palace grounds. The same white stone worked with intricate silver designs provided pathways between blue, sparkling fountains and lush green grass. There were no people out enjoying the day, even groundskeepers were missing. It was deserted, and Nels longed to be able to go down and enjoy the thrill of nature he had missed since leaving The Kingdom, even if this was nature a bit too ordered for his tastes. Still, it was better than just sand.
Extending his view farther down, he saw spotty patches of fog then gasped as he realized that the fog was in fact low-lying clouds. How high was he? He could see beyond the gaps as the sun shone through to a verdant basin where tiny shapes, he imagined were people, were moving about. Maybe it was a public park.
The call of nature overriding any fatigue he might or might not be feeling, Nels decided to see if he could work the lift and take a walk about outside. He would eschew from calling for help, unless he absolutely had to. He wasn’t completely sure that Grayson would approve of any movement outside of resting in his room, and he wasn’t about to chance he’d get stuck inside when he could be out walking on grass. Better to just go ahead with it and hope he didn’t have to involve any servants.
When Nels walked out onto the lift, he realized he had no idea how to make it move, but using the assumption that speaking makes it so, he simply said, “down to the ground.” The lift gently glided downward and Nels heaved a sigh of relief—he would get to enjoy nature after all.
Once the lift touched down, Nels opened the outer door and stepped into the cool air. It reminded him of autumn in The Kingdom even though the leaves were still richly green. The day had that nice, brisk feel to it that made him immediately energized to stretch his legs. He even imagined building a campfire in the woods—even though there were no woods that he could see—and leaning back against a tree to smoke a pipe. He inhaled deeply, believing he could actually smell the sweet tobacco wafting through the air.
With a contented smile still on his face, Nels began walking the white-stone pathways, looking for the perfect place to lose himself in solitude. He found the place soon enough—a tall hedge with a small opening covered by a white-iron door.
Walking onto the grass became like a new experience. The soft, turfy feel, instead of hard stone pleased him so much, he was tempted to strip off his boots and socks and go barefooted. He still had not seen a soul…maybe, he wouldn’t be seen from the palace. No, better wait until after he saw what was behind the door—it could be lined with broken shards of glass. One never knew what was waiting behind closed doors.
The narrow door swung in easily at his touch and he found himself in a completely enclosed spaced. The hedge had been so tall he hadn’t realized that there was a canopy of intertwined vines overhead blocking out most of the sunlight. Only a few dappled rays came through, highlighting certain areas of the ground, which he realized with a start were thousands upon thousands of multi-colored gemstones. Lying on top of the jewels, in the sunspots, were colored eggs decorated like fancy ladies going to a ball. The one closest to him was lavender in color with strands of filigreed silver dancing about its surface, shining with tiny pearls. Others were red or yellow or any other color imaginable from the rainbow with more detailed decorations gleaming on the eggs’ surfaces. Nels saw one onyx egg as black as night with tiny pinpricks of sapphire glowing from within instead of sparkling in the sun. He saw another egg that looked to be a firestone, a deep burning fire glowing hot within its deep red depths, the top
of it dusted with gold glitter.
Peeling his eyes from the wonders at his feet, Nels stared straight ahead and saw gold vines hanging from above shaped as larger eggs with small doors, some open, some closed, shrouded by delicate lacy leaves in yet more colors. He took a step forward, not really sure if he should enter into this jewel box, when he heard a tiny squeak as if he stepped on a mouse’s tail.
A little doll’s head poked out of one of the hanging egg’s doorway. “Who are you?” the blue porcelain face asked, black eyes staring at him from under long inky black hair. He saw a blue hand tightly griping the doorframe as he caught a glimpse of bare blue arm and shoulder.
“Pardon me,” Nels stammered as he gave a slight bow, “I didn’t mean to disturb you. I probably shouldn’t be in here…I’m…ah…Nels…Nels Hunter.” He gave another quick bow.
The little doll-like creature sniffed haughtily. “No, you shouldn’t be. You should leave. Watch your big feet. No, on second thought, don’t even move an inch. I’ll come out.” Her curiosity winning out over her desire for his departure.
She emerged from her egg-house gliding through the air on two feathered wings, a shimmering pattern of black, white, and blue that complemented her smooth skin. She was wearing a midnight-colored dress that reflected hints of blue in the light. Her feet were bare and the tips of her toes and fingers looked to be onyx stones. Nels felt a faint wisp of air tickle his nose as she moved closer.
“I’m Misha,” she said as she folded her arms, slowly moving side-to-side as she studied Nels. “You’re not from around here. No one wears clothes like that. You look like you should be buried under the grass.” At that she started laughing and Nels saw she had perfect white teeth, but for one of them, which was slightly pointy.
Nels smiled, not really getting the humor. “You’re right, I’m not from around here. I’m—“
Misha cut him off. “Of course you’re not. That’s what I just said.” She gave him a look that said he was dumber than the dirt he looked like. “You shouldn’t be in here. I suppose you don’t know, but this is the Sanctuary of the Lightflies, our home. It is not open to humans unless invited. You don’t have a Feather of Invitation, do you? No, I thought not,” she said, answering herself. “Well, then, you’ll just have to leave.”
“The door was unlocked. If you don’t want people in here, why don’t you keep the door locked?” Nels resisted the urge to grind his toe amongst the gemstones to see how deep the layer went.
“The door is not locked because everyone knows not to enter without permission, except for you! And furthermore, the gemstones come from the very heart of the earth; so don’t even try sticking your dirty foot in any deeper.” Her hands flew to her open mouth in horror. “There might be an egg ready to emerge right now and you’re blocking it with your clodhoppers! Get out!” she shrieked, suddenly pushing Nels through the door back out onto the green grass.
Once they were outside, the white-iron door swung shut and Misha breathed a sigh of relief. “You can come outside?” Nels asked.
Misha gave him a look of scorn. “Of course I can come outside. Do you think I’d be happy being stuck inside the Sanctuary all day and night? Pah!” She looked like she was ready to spit as she added, “You really are an imbecile, aren’t you?”
Nels was still trying to decide on just the right retort when a little man on a black-winged horse entered his field of vision. “You all right, Misha? This human giving you problems?” The ebony-skinned man twirled a dark staff with a pointed diamond at one end. His long white hair was tied back in a ponytail underneath a fitted black helm that matched his solid black leather clothing, Nels noticed warily as the man circled around him still twirling his staff with some skill. He couldn’t imagine a little staff like that could hurt him in any way major, but then again, it might poke an eye out.
Misha turned her look of scorn to the flying man. “No, Deklan. He is not giving me problems. And even if he were, I am certain I could handle him.”
“Yes, I suppose you could at that,” Deklan replied, giving Nels a withering smirk.
The perfect comeback was just formulating on the tip of Nels’ tongue when Deklan suddenly yelled, “Attack!”
Nels started to shield his eyes with his arm when he saw two cats come bounding out from behind a green prickly bush. The lead cat had long silvery gray and white fur that sparkled as if it had brushed with spun sugar. Its hungering intensity reminded Nels of a wolf. The second cat was a solid black longhair with diamonds draped around its throat; it was also considerably larger than the first.
Suddenly, the silvery cat leaped into the air, gaining a surprising amount of height, as it swatted furiously at Misha. Deklan, coming adroitly from behind Nels, leveled his staff, aiming it at the airborne cat, shouting, “For the Lightflies!” as his staff released a bolt of white light that stopped the cat in midflight and sent it tumbling down to the ground, landing on all fours. It looked up at Nels with golden-yellow eyes, gave a hiss, then spun, slinking back the way it had come. The black cat looked at him with large, green eyes that seemed to shrug, and ran back behind the bush, as well.
“Ha! Got you! You buttocks licker!” Deklan shouted in triumph. “That should keep them away for awhile, at least.”
“You have problems with cats, do you?” Nels asked a little gleefully. He was fond of cats and had to admit he had halfway been rooting for the cat in their showdown. He didn’t know why the cat had hissed at him, though. He wasn’t the one that pelted it with a light beam. “You didn’t hurt it, did you?”
“We only have problems with those two particular cats—the Nameless. The Jouel’s pets, always skulking about. Other cats leave us alone—we have an understanding—we play with them and they play with us, no claws or staffs allowed. And if a Fly feels things are getting too rough, we just speak the word and the playtime stops. Same goes for the cats, of course. We don’t want to hurt them, either. All cats obey the rules, except for those two…” Deklan muttered the rest under his breath.
“Why are you riding a flying horse?” Nels asked. Misha laughed at the question.
“I’m a male, you idiot! Can’t you see? Or are you blind and moronic, both?”
Now that Deklan mentioned it, Nels noticed for the first time that he didn’t have wings like Misha. So that explained the flying horse. “I see. I see,” Nels said, holding out his hands placatingly. Sheesh, these guys were touchy.
“He’s not from around here, Deklan,” Misha informed, “He doesn’t know anything.” She rolled her eyes to emphasize that she knew everything. “The male Lightflies live under the ground. They have rooms built within the stones and gems. They don’t have wings so each male is born with his own horse. They grow up together and bond. It’s quite simple, really, even for one such as you.”
“Fine. That is simple, yes. Thank you for such an easily understood explanation fit for a simpleton like me,” Nels snarled. Stomping angrily away, he smiled happily, turning back around he said over his shoulder, “I hope the Nameless get you, next time!”
Nels didn’t know where to go next. He had no inclination to meet any more strangers. He thought about trying to track the Nameless cats and see if he couldn’t give them any tips—maybe if they worked together. Instead he decided he would just keep walking and stay out of any closed doors. The nature he knew was good enough for him.
He followed the winding stone path down into what he was glad to see was a close approximation of a forest. It wasn’t thick and didn’t seem very lengthy—he could see through to the other side—but it was more than a couple of trees standing side-by-side. He sat on a gray stone bench in the shade and found he was inhaling the deep rich scent of damp earth and fallen leaves, but there were no fallen leaves on this forest floor, only groundcover with tiny purple-blue crystals centered in green leaves. He closed his eyes and leaned back, stretching his legs, imagining he could hear the trickle of water cascading over rocks.
“Nels, wake up,” a rude vo
ice suddenly intruded on his reverie. He felt a hand shake his shoulder lightly. Still refusing to open his eyes, he yawned exaggeratedly, putting a fist to his mouth. “Nels, really!” the voice said again.
Nels opened one eye and saw Grayson staring down at him with hands on her hips. “Oh!” he said as he scrambled to sit upright. “I didn’t know it was you. Sorry.”
Grayson waved her hand in dismissal. “No matter. What does matter is that now we have a chance to talk without others around.” She eyed him meaningfully, letting him know the “others” really meant Casandra. He supposed politeness kept Grayson from singling the woman out.
When Nels really opened his eyes again, he was startled to see he was no longer in the forest. His head swirled as his eyes took in the aquamarine enclosure. He was still sitting on the stone bench, but his feet rested on a round floor that looked just like a delicately painted porcelain plate. Beside his head was a flow of water winding its way through loose aquamarine stones and as Nels looked around the bright concave space he felt he was somehow underwater or rain was falling outside as water ran in and out of the walls, but failed to puddle on the floor.
“I wanted to have our chat in complete privacy,” Grayson explained. “The liquid light should act as a barrier from any eavesdropping.”
Nels nodded. “I thought I saw something behind the curtain after we had chatted before. I didn’t say anything, hoping it was my imagination, but it reminded me of a rat scuttling about.”
“Yes, I felt a presence there towards the end of our conversation. That was part of the reason I cut us off abruptly—the other being Casandra, as you know.”
“Has it gotten as bad as all that? I mean, this Katak’amai can invade places of the Light. I always thought that was impossible, physically speaking, that is. Light had to leave before darkness could fall, and darkness would always depart in the presence of light.” Nels rubbed his hands together to help him think clearly.