by Rin Chupeco
“A what?” Tala spluttered. “Fattening like, to be eaten?”
The man roared in laughter “I understand it’s a misleading term. In the older days, when a woman is to be given in marriage, she spends at least six months in what we call our ‘fattening room,’ to be pampered and fed her favorite dishes. A healthy woman is the most beautiful woman. We no longer force our women if they do not want it, and so the six months are instead spent on the pampering more than the feeding, but the name for the practice still endures.”
“And it’s the priestess’s granddaughter that’s getting married?” Ken asked.
“Yes. She shall be very beautiful, decked out in our seamstress’s finest dress. Her mother insisted that she also wear a wedding veil in the customary Avalon tradition, and many of the girls have spent weeks weaving one from the finest silks.”
“I’m glad that the frost has not touched your village,” Zoe said. “But none of you seem surprised to find us here.”
“Our priestess knew. The date was wrong, but perhaps the frost can hinder even her magic. There is no need to hide your firebird, Your Highness. She foretold its coming too.”
The firebird hopped out of Alex’s bag, looking irate. You kept me hidden all this time for that? it seemed to complain, and kept up a steady stream of heated squawking that lasted until it started stuffing its face with some of the cooked greens on the table.
“I didn’t even know I was going to Invierno until last week.” Ken sighed.
“We are blessed to be led by a powerful priestess, one that even Avalon kings come to seek counsel with. Feel free to make use of these rooms for as long as you wish, milords, miladies, and…” The innkeeper paused, looking quizzically at Loki.
“Mi’enbys,” the young ranger supplied.
“Mi’enbys it is.” The man indicated a long hallway, where three doors stood side by side. “You are welcome to join our festivities. In the midst of death, we must celebrate life. We don’t have many visitors even in the best of times, but you folks must join the dancing, at least.”
“Dancing? We’re not going to miss it for the—ow!” Zoe had very calmly stepped on Ken’s toe.
“The girls have been practicing for weeks,” the man continued. “Almost as long as they’ve been making their bridal wreaths.”
“Bridal wreaths?” Ken sounded less sure of himself.
“The girls dance round the fires tonight to scout for husbands. It’s how the wife found me back then. Prettiest girl at the dance…” The innkeeper chuckled. “Didn’t stand a chance. If you’ll excuse me, milords and miladies. And mi’enbys.”
“Before anything, I’d like some food and a good bath,” Ken decided. “Remind me to ask the innkeeper for something for the horses.”
Ikpe was far more modernized than Tintagel Castle. The inn had both communal and private baths, and an adjoining restaurant. Posters of Uyai Archibong Ukeme, Miss Avalon 2003 and also Miss Universe of that same year, lined one of the walls. Some computers had been set up inside one room, though Tala doubted the internet worked. Alex doubled with Ken, West with Cole, and Zoe, Tala, and Loki took the largest room. “Can’t the firebird stay with the horses tonight?” Ken asked. “Not really sure I can sleep with all the snoring that’s sure to go on.” The firebird responded with an affronted hiss.
The tavern was large enough to accommodate a few dozen people, though there were only three other patrons at the moment. The group occupied one long table at the corner of the inn, chosen because it hid them from immediate view. The innkeeper’s wife was named Ayanti, a handsome woman with her hair bound in a yellow wrap. She served them mouthwatering dishes: minced meat cooked with eggs and milk, yellow rice, a soft powder-like bread, and another thick stew made of vegetables, crayfish, and some kind of snail.
“The meals come with rejuvenating potions,” Ayanti explained. “I am required by Avalon law to tell you of this. If you do not wish for spells in your cuisine, I have also made some without magic.”
“No complaints here,” Ken said. “That’s my favorite seasoning. I love a good home-cooked spelltech.”
“It might not work on me,” Tala confessed. “I’m a Makiling.”
“I hope it nourishes you all the same. Guests are rare these days, but with tonight’s festival, I wanted to celebrate. Good food is good healing,” the woman admitted with a laugh. “It takes many hours to create the perfect ekwang.”
“This is delicious, ma’am,” Alex said sincerely, helping himself to seconds of the ekwang. “Thank you.”
Ayanti beamed. “It’s good to hear praise from one not of Ikpe after so long. People used to come far and wide for my cooking.” Sadly, she eyed the empty tables. “But we are very lucky. The priestess protected us from the frost, almost single-handedly.”
“Is your tower part of the defense?” Zoe asked her, glancing out the window, where it lay outlined against the growing dusk, still visible despite the constant flurry of snow.
“Been standing hundreds of years, milady. Maybe even long before this village came about. At least three hundred years old. It may not look like much, but we’re quite proud of our strange little tower. Our strongest defense it is, steeped deeply in charms dating back centuries. It’s that and our stones that’ve helped keep the nightwalkers out.”
Ken and Zoe glanced quickly at each other. “Would it be possible,” Ken began glibly, “to take a closer look ourselves? I’m a history scholar, and a tower like this one isn’t something I get the chance to study often.”
Zoe coughed.
“The tower’s closed to outsiders, milord,” Ayanti said regretfully. “Favorite grounds for some of our wayward boys, sometimes. Always painting the walls and stirring up trouble. We try to discourage that sort of idleness. Isolated in the frost, sometimes they get restless.”
“That’s a shame,” Ken said mildly. “And what about the stone by the entrance to your village?”
“It contains the earth and the power of our ancestors, preventing malicious spells from being cast.”
“Like the ones the ICE agents used,” West remembered. “The one inside that van.”
“ICE agents?” The woman looked horrified. “There are ICE agents here?”
“No,” Zoe said hastily, shooting West a warning look. “They were searching for the prince, and we wound up fighting them back in America.”
“Our priestess tells us that we have been closed to the rest of the world for many years now. It breaks my heart to hear that such terrible policies have not changed.”
“They don’t so much as turn a hair when it’s nightwalkers outside their village, but ICE agents make them nervous,” Ken murmured. Aloud, he said, “Please send both the bride and groom our congratulations.”
“Ah, but we won’t be knowing the groom’s name just yet. The lucky man’s to be selected tomorrow.”
“You mean the bride doesn’t even know who she’s marrying?”
“It’s not our usual wedding custom, to be sure. But it’s the priestess’s granddaughter getting married, so different rules apply. She has a doom, you see.”
“A doom?”
“They say she is to wed a walking corpse, who shall wield a terrible mercy.” The woman shrugged. “It is probably a metaphor for something simpler, something not so grim.”
“I would be terrified if it wasn’t,” Ken muttered.
“We’ll have to be a lot more careful than I expected,” Zoe added quietly, once the woman had left. She looked over at the boys. “Let me know when you find anything out of the ordinary. And I’d appreciate it if you could make an effort to look around first before taking part in the dancing.” That last part was directed deliberately at Kensington, who put his hands up in a mock display of innocence.
“Me?”
“Yes, you,” Zoe said. “I know you. I’d prefer not to be chased out of town
by angry fathers and girls seeking vengeance.”
Despite Zoe’s warnings, though, Ken and West shot out of their seats after supper, grinning with the air of boys about to get themselves into trouble despite having promised otherwise. Cole had already disappeared, though Tala didn’t remember seeing him leave.
“We’ll be off, then,” Ken said, sidling toward the door. “To find information.”
“And clues,” West added unnecessarily.
“We’ll be back in an hour.”
“Or two.”
“Or till the dance ends.”
“Or they run out of girls.”
“See you later!”
The boys took off. Loki followed closely after them, a resigned grin on their face.
“I tried.” Zoe sighed, shaking her head. She glanced over at Alex. “What about you, Your Highness?”
“I’m going to head up to my room and take advantage of the bed,” Alex said abruptly, pushing back his chair. He turned to the firebird, who was chirping along to some music no one else seemed to hear. “Don’t wake me unless it’s important.”
The instant he was out the door, Zoe rounded on Tala, looking worried. “Did I do something?”
“What?”
“His Highness. Alexei. Did I do something to antagonize him in any way? He’s been polite, but I also know he’s being passive-aggressive toward me, and he’s not saying why.”
“Being in Avalon has been stressing him out, and you’re the one putting a cap on some of his more impulsive behaviors. Maybe it’s a combination of those?”
“Have I been doing a horrible job?” Zoe looked stricken.
“No!” Tala exclaimed. “No, you’re doing great! You’ve brought us this far without getting any of us killed or worse, and I’m speaking as the most inexperienced person here.”
“Thank you,” Zoe said, though still looking a little distraught. “It’s just, I just wish I could talk it out with him, but at this point I sense that’s the last thing he wants to do.”
“He doesn’t want to talk to me either, and I’m supposed to be his best friend,” Tala agreed, glaring at the hallway he’d gone out. That was partly her fault too, but she didn’t want to overcomplicate things by explaining that to Zoe. “I’m putting it down to anxiety on his part. Hopefully he’ll be better once we get to Maidenkeep.”
“Maidenkeep,” Zoe sighed. “That’s another problem. He lost his parents there. I’m not sure it’s going to put him in a happier frame of mind. I’m just trying to make sure we’re all alive and breathing until we can find some way to alert the Cheshire and the others to our location.”
“How are you holding up, though?” The burden weighing on the girl’s shoulders must be colossal, Tala realized. It wasn’t her fault that Alex was choosing to be ungrateful about it.
Zoe let out a small, forced laugh. “I’m all right. You should go out and enjoy the celebrations too. Have some fun while we’re here, like Ken and West plan on doing. It’s been a trying few days, and we could all use a break.”
“Not you?”
She paused, smiling briefly. “I don’t need it. Anyway, it doesn’t feel right without Tristan here.” The evasiveness in her voice had returned, and privately Tala wondered what it was that she wasn’t saying. “I do love to dance, so maybe I’ll take a spin later. What about you? Have a boyfriend too?”
“I…” She hadn’t thought about Ryker for so long, and now it came crashing back down on her, his treachery. “I thought I did. Or I was going to have one, until I learned the Snow Queen was his guardian.”
“Oh. The boy with the ICE agents?”
“Yeah. I know how to pick ’em, huh?”
“It sounded like you two had history.”
“Not much of one,” Tala said bitterly. “The bonfire was supposed to be our first date. Or maybe it wasn’t. I think he only did it because he knew I was a Makiling and that I was protecting Alex. That’s all he wanted.”
“I don’t want to speak about things that don’t have anything to do with me,” Zoe said carefully, “or I try not to, anyway. But from the way he reacted, his interest seemed genuine. He wouldn’t have been so upset if it was all just an act. Do you…wanna talk about it? I’m a good listener.”
Tala smiled briefly. “Not really. Do you like talking to other people about your relationship?”
“I usually don’t, but I can talk about it to you now, if you’d like.” At Tala’s curious nod, Zoe continued. “I think I might have initially come off…hesitant to you, like I was second-guessing my relationship with Tristan Locksley, and not just because Ken likes to tease me about it. I suppose I am. Some odd circumstances brought him and me together, but I won’t go into detail about those, because they’re private and he doesn’t want that. They’re a very public family, by virtue of their wealth and influence. They may be Avalonians, but they also hold considerable sway in Europe, which is why they don’t need to hide the way others had to.
“Ken and the others like to tease me about being Tristan’s fiancée—but they’re right, at least by Locksley standards. They’ve got old money and follow some old customs, so arranged marriages for their children aren’t uncommon, especially for Avalonian nobility. A typical courtship lasts about a week—if there’s even one to begin with. I’ve heard stories of abducted princesses—there aren’t any dragons anymore, so it’s usually pirates or roadside robbers or a rival kingdom—or girls placed under some curse, where the only prerequisite for husbands-to-be is to be the first man to rescue her. My relationship with Tristan wasn’t exactly arranged…or approved.”
“But why would they be against you?”
“My father’s a professor in New York. Not exactly royalty, even if my mother has better claims. That, and they don’t think I have the right conduct befitting a Locksley girlfriend, much less a wife.”
“What makes them say that?”
“I started my own fight club.”
Tala choked on a glass of water. Zoe patted her on the back till she was done. “It’s nothing like the movie, if that’s what you’re about to ask.” She laughed. “It’s just a few girls training together because nobody else wanted to teach us. It’s kind of an open secret, but the older people from Avalon don’t like it. Quite a few influential ladies support the club, so we’ve been allowed to continue. Tristan’s parents are against it, though. They’re wrongheadedly conservative.” She winced. “Tristan’s not very keen on it either, to tell you the truth. The fact is, we’re probably going to argue when I get back, because he wasn’t happy about my being on this mission with Loki and the boys.”
She sat up straighter and smiled, a little self-consciously, at Tala. “Sorry. I got a little carried away.”
“No, that’s understandable. I’m sorry to hear that, though.”
“That’s what relationships are about, dealing with the bad days as well as the good ones.” Zoe reached into a pocket and pulled out her cell phone. “Good thing my batteries are enchanted to last two weeks, even if it’s useless for everything else right now. We haven’t been together long,” she confessed, showing Tala a picture. “I guess that’s what’s been making me a little neurotic.”
Tala stared at the dark hair, the green eyes, the bright smile. She’d seen the guy before, but it wasn’t Zoe his arms had been wrapped around. Oh no. Oh no. “Oh,” she managed weakly. “You guys look…you guys look great.”
“Thanks. I just hate it when he—” She broke off, glancing up when Cole reappeared. Ignoring them, he moved toward the exit. “And where do you think you’re going?”
He paused, his tone sardonic. “To hunt for information. Like you wanted.”
“Ken and the others, yes,” Zoe said. “I have different orders for you. Since the prince is resting—and since you’re in such a helpful mood tonight—you’ll be coming with us to visit the priestess.”
“Aren’t we supposed to wait until she called for us?” Tala asked.
“I’m not the world’s most patient person. If she foretold our coming, maybe she’ll predict this too.” Zoe grinned at her. “A priestess in the same village the Dame specifically told us to spend the night at smacks just a little too much of coincidence, don’t you think? Let the others enjoy the dance a little while longer. I don’t want to wait. And last I checked, the time-lapse spell is still going strong. I don’t want my college credits expiring by the time we make it back.”
A faint expression of annoyance crossed Cole’s face. “What does that have to do with me?”
“I don’t particularly trust you, Nottingham,” Zoe told him bluntly. “If you’re here to help like you claim to be, then prove me wrong.”
For a moment, the boy looked like he wanted to argue, but then shrugged. “As you wish.”
22
In Which Ken Picks the Wrong Girl to Dance With
The town center had been cleared to accommodate the ongoing celebrations. Paved with thick cobblestones and lined with thousands of petals of contrasting colors, this seemed, at least to Ken, to be a place of some significance. Several baskets hung suspended from nearby trees, ropes affixed to their edges. One tug would send fresh cascades of scattering petals tumbling down on revelers and onlookers alike.
But it was the butterflies that really stole the show. Hundreds illuminated the air, clustering every few feet. They cast a gentle glow around the plaza, winking in and out as if on command. All the villagers took this in stride, like there was nothing extraordinary shining right above their heads.
A large statue stood at the heart of the small clearing, a white marble figure wearing a crown of roses on her brow. She was one-handed, as far as Ken could tell, with one wrist ending in a stump. Carved roses and lilies, magnificently detailed, shielded most of her body from view. The faint, sweet scent of flowers clung to the air.
A large crowd had gathered around the small fires kept burning around the statue, cheering the dancers on. There were two different kinds of dances taking place at once. The first was headed up by the male village elders and was meant to be the main performance. The men wore colorful shirts, large hats, and heavy decorative staffs that they pointed toward the heavens as they chanted, whirling and dancing around with feet that moved like they were thirty years younger.