by Kara Timmins
Corwin didn’t. “He’s fine.” He laughed. “He’s just working up some of that good ol’ Eloy bravery.”
“Are you going to be back tonight?” Francena asked.
“Hopefully not,” Corwin said.
“What are you talking about?” Francena looked over at them. “What’s going on?”
“Eloy’s going to Cinecho.” Corwin put a strip of the green vegetable in his mouth.
“Oh?” The look of inquisition Francena had was gone, replaced by something sly.
“All right,” Eloy said. “That’s enough. I’m just going to say hi.”
“Okay,” Francena said. “We’ll see you when we see you, then.” And she winked.
–
Eloy arrived in Cinecho in the early evening. It looked so different from what he remembered that he worried he had somehow gone somewhere different. But, no, he recognized a few of the houses. The homes that had been moved looked small now compared to all of the buildings around them.
The biggest difference was in the number of people. It seemed as if he had found himself in the middle of a festival. Merchants lined the main street with all kinds of foods and wares, and ribbons in reds and oranges rippled from windows and poles everywhere he looked.
Most of the activity was happening a few strides off to the side of the main road. Eloy followed the crowd and walked toward whatever had everyone’s attention. The area opened in front of him. The open space looked almost like the Bowl, only much smaller and far more beautiful. People flowed around the edges of the indent in the earth and sat along the many notches that wrapped around it to form seats. A few people in vibrant clothing pooled at the very bottom. One man danced around with a burning torch, throwing it up in the air and catching it. The people cried out and clapped.
Eloy moved out of the way. Everyone wanted to see the people at the center, but he knew who he was looking for wouldn’t be there. He looked around until he saw a woman sitting at the very top of the seats a quarter of the way around from the entrance. It had been so long, Eloy worried that he wouldn’t recognize her. Seeing her now, the thought seemed ridiculous. He would know that head of dark hair anywhere.
His heart beat like an assault in his chest as he walked toward her. She was alone, but that didn’t mean someone wasn’t on their way to meet her. What would he say? He thought about leaving, going back home. She wouldn’t even know he’d been there. He could leave right now, just close his eyes, and she would never know. But he kept taking steps.
He counted. One. Two. Three. Four.
She was right in front of him. She still had her attention on the man dancing with the fire.
Up close, Eloy could see a few strands of silver in her hair, like starlight on a dark night.
She looked up at him, the performer’s flame catching the color of her jasper eyes.
Panic surged as Eloy worried he wouldn’t be able to find any words.
Then came the look of recognition, of joy, of affection. In a world of fields of multicolored moths, canyons full of glowing wonders, or rooms full of riches, Evas’s face was the most beautiful thing Eloy had ever seen.
“I’m looking for someone,” Eloy said, “and I seem to have gotten lost in this place.”
The End