by M. Woodruff
“Javin Bone is not at home, Casandra Farmer,” said an elderly man in a black and white checkered robe slashed with silver piping. He had very white hair, even though it was quite sparse, that seemed to glow against his coppery skin. His pale blue eyes jovially embedded in deep wrinkles.
Frowning, Casandra asked, “Do you know when he will be back, Sans?”
“I do not, Casandra Farmer. You are welcome to wait, though. I can have refreshments brought to the canipilad, if you so desire to sit outside and enjoy the cool of the shade.”
“No. Thank you, Sans. I believe Nels Hunter would benefit from a trip through your city. You will let Javin Bone know I am here when he returns?”
“Of course, Casandra Farmer. May Nadia journey with you,” Sans said, nodding slightly with an upraised hand.
“Nadia? Who’s Nadia?” Nels asked as they were walking back down the steps.
“Oh, it’s one of their many gods.”
“Gods?” Nels asked, starting to feel rather exasperated at how overwhelming all this was. Who knew people lived like this?
Casandra pursed her lips to the side in thought. “You know how I explained earlier we are actually invisible beings? Well, Sandridians believe there are also invisible beings that do not have physical bodies and are extremely powerful. They live in the sky or wherever they choose really, and they can cause great good or great harm depending on their temperament. For example, Nadia is said to bring joy to short trips, so you want it to go with you. Oh, and they are not to be classified as any one particular gender. The Sandridian believe the gods are above gender, but in case they aren’t they don’t wish to pick the wrong sex and possibly offend.”
Nels nodded, pursing his lips to the side. He had never even heard of invisible beings, until today—it was bad enough to think of himself that way, but to hear of an all-powerful race that could possibly be touchy, seemed to him to add an extra burden of worry to an already stressful life, that was unnecessary. Unless of course they were real, but that was ridiculous. Nobody had any gods in The Kingdom and they seemed to be doing just fine. He certainly never felt he was missing anything.
A thought of the embroidered serpent flitted through his mind, which he quickly dismissed. It could be an explanation, but that snake was all too real and…No, he would not think of this now. He was exploring a new land, learning new things, not dwelling on old.
“Well, shall we let Nadia lead the way or shall you, Casandra?” Nels asked, affecting a gentlemanly flourish.
Casandra arched an eyebrow as she said, “I’ll lead the way, but really Nels, you should try to curb your sarcasm, some people can be quite fanatical about their gods.”
“I am humbly chastened, and my apologies to Nadia,” Nels said as he clasped his hands together and gave a bow.
Casandra hmph’d, seeming very like Hattie suddenly, while eyeing Nels up and down appraisingly. “We need coin. We must change into more appropriate clothes.”
Nels looked down at himself and at Casandra; she was probably right, if the doorman was anything to go by. They both still had on their plain brown attire, which no one would give a second thought to anywhere in The Kingdom, but here they were sure to stand out like sore thumbs. “All right, do they take The Kingdom currency here? It’s all I’ve got.”
“I don’t think so. It would be too unusual anyway. Javin always has a stash of coins for me hidden away for when I visit. Since he is the host it is part of the custom that he provides. Likewise, I would do the same if he came to The Kingdom and he had need.”
“Has he been to The Kingdom?” Nels asked, curious. He couldn’t imagine what Hattie would do to a man dressed like Sans showing up.
“Only to speak with me briefly. He would not leave the forest.”
Nels thought he must have known about Casandra’s mother.
Casandra took him around back to the courtyard. They bypassed the aqua garden and went over to a marble obelisk in the corner. Passing by the gold cone, Nels wondered if he should say something to Casandra about his encounter with its like in the forest. It obviously came from this Javin Bone, and like she said, if that was where he came to visit her, it made sense it was a good place to hide it. But, why reveal it to him, if that’s what this Bone had intended? Nels decided it was best to keep it to himself until he met the man. Maybe Javin would elucidate why his Portal would suddenly pop up and try to lure Nels in. And when that didn’t work have Langard Turkand push him in. Certainly that squirrely old man couldn’t have known anything about traveling, could he? But, he had obviously wanted to show Nels the Portal—had even gone to the trouble of hiring him to do so.
Nels shook his head—time enough to think about such things later.
Casandra ran her hand over the surface of the red marble and the hollow interior of the obelisk appeared. She stepped inside. There wasn’t room for him, but he stuck his head in and saw a narrow wooden bureau with four drawers. The bureau was red, leafed in gold, and had fancy legs that looked to start dancing at any moment. On top was a blue glass pitcher and basin filled with water, and a small standing mirror in a silver frame. Casandra opened one of the drawers and pulled out an ornate black box, which when opened was full of gold coins. She took out a handful and put them in a small blue and yellow silk purse that could be attached to the wrist. Next, she took out what looked to be a folded bolt of pink silk with tiny multi-colored flowers embroidered sparsely throughout. She turned and looked at him and cleared her throat. Nels stuck his head back out of the entryway and turned around, whistling as he waited.
When Casandra emerged, she had been transformed. Nels had found her enchanting from the start with her brown hair and eyes, and brown dresses. But now, she was not only enchanting, she was exotic. She had loosed her hair and it flowed well past her shoulders towards her waist. He had never really seen a woman with loose hair. Women in The Kingdom always kept their hair long, but tightly pinned it in buns or rolls close to their scalps. Young girls kept their hair in braids until they reached a certain age then up their hair would go, too. Only a handful of times had he actually seen a woman with loose hair in public. Usually at night because of tavern fights or bat attacks. In private, it was a different matter.
Casandra had wrapped the pink silk around her creating cascading folds that tightened at the waist, which she had cinched with a thick scarlet ribbon. On her feet were flat silver leather slides with one band crossing the largest toe and one across the top of her foot. She had attached the small purse to her wrist and Nels heard the coins jingle as she gave a twirl.
“Never seen anything like it, have you?” she said, giving him a wink. “I was horrified at the idea of being seen in public with my hair down, and then to put on a garment without buttons! I was scandalized, to say the least. But when Celeste, the seamstress, actually showed me how to wrap and position the fabric appropriately I realized my virtue is quite safe. There is no danger of this dress accidently falling off like I imagined.
“It is actually very practical. With all of the sand blowing around all over the place, the women don’t have to worry about it accumulating in hems or cuffs, same thing for the shoes,” she said, wiggling a foot. “All they have to do is shake the fabric and the shoes when they take them off. Takes care of the sand problem. Simple, no?”
“Sand! What sand? I haven’t seen any sand!” Nels exclaimed, looking around for any sign of sand.
“Ah, well, that’s because we are at Javin Bone’s residence. You haven’t been into the city yet. There you will see sand.”
They walked toward a gate set into the marble wall that was made from the same wood as the massive front doors. Nels, curious, glanced around to see if the obelisk was still open, and felt relief that it was now solid again. He did like things orderly.
When they reached the gate Casandra tugged on a purple and red threaded rope with tassels and bells that came through a small hole in the wall. The gate slowly swung out and Nels saw a large ornate rug that matched the
rope pull. What he didn’t expect to find was that when he stepped onto the now-not-quite-large-enough rug was that it was suspended in midair.
Too afraid to do the smart thing and jump back onto the safety of solid stone, he sat down cross-legged and closed his eyes, feeling very sick.
“Please tell me, Casandra, this is not happening,” he pleaded. Nels hated to appear so unmanly in front of her, but really. There was only so much any man could take.
Casandra knelt down beside him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. “I’m sorry. I should have warned you. I didn’t think.”
Nels peeked one eye open—he had the sudden feeling she wasn’t being completely genuine in her apology. And she wasn’t. Her lips were turned up at the corners.
Nels sighed. “What does this thing do? And wait a minute! Does this mean Javin Bone’s whole estate is…in the air? What’s holding it up?”
Casandra shrugged. “Nothing, that I know of.”
“Nothing!” Nels practically squealed. “You mean I’ve been walking around in the air supported by nothing this whole time!”
Casandra nodded. Nels was sure he was going to be sick. “But really Nels, it’s not like you were up floating in the air by yourself. You’ve been standing on solid stone this whole time.”
“Yes, but that solid stone is floating in the air and…oh, curses on the wind, how far up are we? No, wait! Don’t tell me! I don’t want to know. Just get me down on real solid ground. You know, the kind that can’t suddenly decide it wants to be a bird.”
Casandra laughingly said, “Relax. We’re almost down now. It’s a very gentle carpet, you see. I don’t suppose you’d want to ride on it for your tour of the city?”
Nels turned green.
“I didn’t think so. Oh well, walking it is.”
Standing on real ground, finally, Nels saw the sand. The streets were blocks of white stone underneath what ranged from a fine coating of rainbow-colored sand to piles of it. He looked up to see the underside of Javin Bone’s estate expecting to see white marble but instead seeing a black and gold foggy mist. Once again, the colors swirled around one another creating a visual fluctuation that Nels also found disturbing because it was so incongruous to see a black cloud in the midst of a clear blue sky. Upon further inspection, he realized there were more houses floating in the skies, each supported by different colored mists, bubbles, dangling gold beads, swaths of billowing fabric. Apparently these weren’t actual supports, but just simple decoration done according to the owners’ tastes.
Underneath the floating city were streets with everyday shops, booths, houses, and throngs of people. The buildings were built of what appeared to be the same type of stone as used for the street, but painted in any number of colors and designs. They were standing right in front of a sweet treat store painted pink that looked to be dusted with powdered sugar and with windows of blown sugar, twisting in various colors and configurations. Across the street was a bakery painted in a deep rich purple with dark brown window shutters and doors. There were no trees or shrubs or walkways of any kind, only buildings planted right into the multi-colored sand, with drifts of it leading up to the walls.
Most of the women were dressed as Casandra, with wrapped dresses, only not in silk. Most were in colorful cotton fabric that didn’t have the same flowing effect hers did. Theirs seemed stiffer, more utilitarian, less social in nature. He did see a few women with the fabric wrapped around them so thin it was almost transparent. Nels felt himself blushing and would quickly look away hoping Casandra hadn’t noticed. Many of the men wore the same style of wrapped dresses, Nels noticed, to his horror. And felt quite relieved when he did see men in simple tunics and pants—the type of attire he was comfortable with. Even wearing the robe Sans had been wearing would be preferable to just draping fabric over his body.
Even the headwear was unique to Nels. Many men were bald whether they were young or old. Others wore their hair long or short, some in clasps or braids or just free flowing. There were hats in all shapes and sizes, colors and styles. He saw one man with what looked to be a pile of fabric somehow balanced on his head, while another had on a hat so large with a brim so huge he imagined the man could fold his legs up and disappear into it. The women tended to be no less dramatic with their choices and were oftentimes bald themselves. He supposed some Sandridians minded sand in their hair and hats and others didn’t.
It was all so overwhelming. From the array of colors on buildings to people, Nels felt his eyes tear, thinking of all the sameness he had experienced throughout his years without ever realizing his loss. It was a sense of grief he felt to only discover such variety at such an advanced age. Oh, to be a young man again, just starting out with a world like this to explore. It was a bittersweet experience—he felt an excitement he had never truly known except for when he had escaped the Black Mountain. Maybe it was akin to the same thing. When he had been fifteen, he had had conflicting emotions—fear, loss, anticipation. Now though, he felt exhilaration without any fear—the fear had been left back on the mountain—and instead that unruly twinge of recognizing what life could have been, if only things had been different. How they could have been different in this situation he wasn’t sure. But, the reality didn’t matter to the sentiment of the soul.
Nels was getting ready to ask Casandra if he really needed to find new clothes—he didn’t feel out of place in his brown leathers—no one had given them a second glance. When he saw approaching them in the distance a family flying on a carpet. The father was dressed in a grand robe of shiny royal blue and silver. His long jet-black hair was divided into four braids and they met a foot over his head forming an open sphere. Inside the sphere hung a large silver ball that had squiggles of matching blue lights wriggling randomly over its surface like tiny worms. The mother was wearing a plain royal blue wrap dress in the same shiny material. Her long black hair was unadorned and hung stick straight with a high gloss. She had blue wire jewelry entwined from the top to the bottom of her ears in a fashion Nels had never seen before. The two children both had bald heads with little orange square caps perched on top. They had on matching orange smocks and looked to be around six years old.
The carpet descended right in front of Nels and Casandra on the soft sand by the sweet-treat shop. As the family was disembarking the woman looked over at Casandra with recognition. “Ah, Casandra Farmer,” she said as she began walking towards them. “Indulging a sweet tooth I see, just like Ira and Malik,” she smiled while indicating the two children by bringing each to her side. “Nikel never should have brought them some of The Happy Mouth’s Tongue Ticklers, now we are forced to come down here to avoid tantrums, too often,” she said while shooting her staying-in-the-background-smart-guy husband dangerous looks through narrowed eyes.
“Denali Carl, it is a delight to see you again! I’m afraid we haven’t tried any of The Happy Mouth’s treats, yet. We just arrived from Javin’s,” Casandra said while gesturing up.
Denali glanced above. “Oh, why yes, of course,” she said smiling, “but why would you come down here?” Her mouth slightly puckered downward in distaste.
“Well, Nels, you see…” Casandra murmured as she vaguely waved her left hand in his direction. Denali Carl apparently did see because her lips puckered slightly more. “He, uh…well, he too has unfortunate cravings for Tongue Ticklers and insisted he come down here to satisfy it, “ she finished with a definite nod, as Nels pursed his lips.
“Oh dear,” Denali sighed, “one never knows how these things get started. But really, it is my belief they shouldn’t be indulged. One can only take so much, though. Sometimes one must humor children whether you like it or not, for peace of mind. I’m sure you understand.” Looking meaningfully at Nels, she said, “Come on then, let’s pacify the children.”
As Denali, with children running ahead, started toward the shop, Nels whispered loudly to Casandra, “What was that all about?”
“Oh Nels, I couldn’t tell her you were afraid o
f flying rugs and that you’ve never been to Sandrid before. And I couldn’t tell her you wanted to come down here for any logical reason that I could think of quickly. So I just had to take her reason for being here.”
“But why? I don’t understand why being down here matters? Isn’t this Sandrid?” Nels demanded.
“Yes and no. This is technically Lower Sandrid, where people of Denali’s type don’t generally go. Her ilk mostly stay in Upper Sandrid where you must travel by carpet and I knew you wouldn’t want to do that, so I brought you down here. Plus, I thought we wouldn’t run into anyone I knew down here, so I wouldn’t have to explain you just yet. Until we met Javin, that is.”
Nels understood enough about people putting on airs to get the gist of what Casandra was saying. Even in The Kingdom there was a certain amount of differentiation among people, but he had never so overtly heard it referred to. There were certainly people wealthier than others, but with so much of their society based on the trading of goods and services as opposed to coin, people tended to at least pretend to be on an equal footing with everyone else just in case someone may have something one might possibly want.
Mayor Parker had the largest residence in town, but he was always quite friendly with everyone, and no one seemed to be envious of what he had. Everyone was so busy with their own lives, for good or bad, to care overly much what others had or didn’t in order to use others as measuring sticks. He knew the groups that hired him as a guide for a trip through the woods were wealthier than him in coin, but they had always treated him with respect. They wanted to learn from him and he had something they wanted—specific knowledge they were lacking. It was strange for him to witness—was it embarrassment to be seen?—the emotion Denali had obviously felt at being “caught” down here. Even Casandra exhibited it, and she living in a farmhouse in the middle of nowhere!