Page 8

“Will we —” Kiva broke off with a gasp as a kaleidoscope of color lit the night, accompanied by an orchestral symphony amplified throughout the city. The music’s origin was impossible to pinpoint, but the rainbow spotlights streamed from the palace’s gilded bridge right into the heart of the Serin River, reflecting off the water in a psychedelic haze.

The crowd cheered loud enough to make Kiva’s ears ring even from a distance. The noise transported her straight back to Zalindov, to the moment she’d volunteered to take her mother’s sentence, and the resulting roar from the gathered inmates. Her palms began to sweat, but the city crowd was celebrating, not jeering, the sound joyful enough to ease the sudden constriction around her chest.

“Here we go,” Jaren said from Kiva’s side as the colored lights began to spiral. He was unaware of the mental battlefield she’d just navigated, but he of all people would understand her lingering trauma, especially since she knew he was suffering in his own way, having heard his restless nightmares through the walls during their weeks at the winter palace. She’d acted oblivious, never revealing that she’d lain awake until his distressed sounds had faded, never sharing that she endured her own torturous dreams.

Shoving away her thoughts, Kiva rose onto her knees beside Tipp, waiting to see the reason for Jaren’s declaration.

Mere seconds later, a small boat appeared in the center of the lights, the multicolored streaks shifting to form a perfect circle around the vessel. A single figure stood on the stern of the boat, dressed in white with their hood pulled over their face, a glint of a gold mask peeking out from beneath it.

The music rose into a crescendo, and with it, the figure’s arms stretched high into the air, the lights moving again, more erratically this time. The river began to swirl and gurgle, a whirlpool forming around the boat, which remained perfectly still at the center of it. And then —

“Now-way!” Tipp exclaimed as a swan burst out of the whirlpool, three times the size of the boat — and madeentirelyof water. Rainbow lights streaked from the bridge to highlight the bird as it rose into the air, water-wings flapping and dripping straight back into the Serin below.

“L-Look!” Tipp cried, drawing Kiva’s stunned gaze back to the figure on the boat, who was twirling their hands to the music and pointing at the water again.

This time, it was a pod of dolphins that emerged, all similarly magnified in size. Numerous spotlights touched on them as they skipped over the surface of the river, diving deep and reappearing to leap high in a series of aerial acrobatics.

When the figure on the boat pointed their finger again, an entire section of the Serin began to bubble, with long, straight lines shooting up into the air, the tops budding into perfect sunflowers emphasized by bright yellow lights from the bridge. Then, as Kiva watched, the sunflowers parted as a herd of horses galloped through them, tossing their wind-whipped manes and trailing water in their wake.

“Whatisall this?” Kiva breathed.

“The River Festival celebrates life,” Jaren answered as a massive oak tree formed out of the whirlpool, rising high into the sky. Iridescent birds appeared and launched off the branches, joining the swan still circling above the river, all dripping water back to the surface. “Centuries ago, it offered a reminder that our lives are seasonal, and that those who survived the winter could relax and enjoy the pleasures of spring. But these days, it’s essentially just an excuse for a party.” The orchestra increased in volume, so Jaren raised his voice to continue, “We have four of these festivals throughout the year: the River Festival in spring, the Carnival of Flowers in summer, the Ember Rite in the fall, and the Crystal Gales in winter. Each focuses on a different elemental power — water for spring, earth for summer, fire for fall, and wind for winter — and acts as a reminder to our people of the magic we have and the protection we afford them.”

Kiva squinted at the figure on the boat. “That’s the queen down there, isn’t it?”

It had to be, since the king had married into the Vallentis family and therefore had no magic, Princess Mirryn was a wind elemental with a slight affinity for fire, and young Prince Oriel was most adept at earth magic. Jaren alone was capable of wielding all four elements — the reason he’d been named heir, despite Mirryn being the elder sibling — but to the world, he was considered to be only a powerful fire elemental, with some control over wind. His people believed the succession had fallen to him because of the strength of his magic, with very few knowing what he was truly capable of — Kiva being one of them.

“Yes, that’s my mother,” Jaren confirmed. Nothing in his voice revealed how he felt toward the woman who had abused him repeatedly over the years, her addiction to angeldust unknown to the general public.

“She has a lot of power,” Kiva observed carefully.

Before Jaren could respond, a colossal serpent formed out of the Serin and swallowed the oak tree in one bite before slithering toward the field of sunflowers and ingesting them, too. It then struck upward like an asp, and the birds vanished within its watery maw, followed by the acrobatic dolphins and prancing horses. Soon only the serpent remained, circling the boat in place of the whirlpool, which had dissolved back into stillness.

“Believe it or not, these kinds of tricks don’t take much effort,” Jaren said. “She’ll feel a little tired afterward, but that’s about it.” He indicated the water. “She’s nearly done now — you’ll like this part.”

It was difficult not to ask more questions, but Kiva refocused on the serpent rising high above the river, like a wingless dragon flying through the air. As the orchestra reached its climax, Queen Ariana clapped her hands together and the serpent exploded, turning into millions of water droplets suspended like glittering diamonds.

“Oh,”Kiva couldn’t help gasping as the River Palace came alive, the luminium glowing so brightly that she had to raise a hand to shield her eyes.

As if it offered some kind of sign, the crowd roared even louder than before, with those closest to the water lighting lotus-shaped lanterns and placing them onto the surface, first dozens, then hundreds, then thousands floating along the river.

“It’s even b-better than I imagined,” Tipp whispered, his voice filled with awe.

The young boy wasn’t wrong — the combination of rainbow droplets and floating lanterns all backlit by the shining palace was easily the most beautiful thing Kiva had ever seen.

And then came the fireworks.

Tipp let out awhoopas they exploded high above the palace, and Kiva jumped at how loud the first crackle of them was. The music helped drown out the noise, the orchestra still playing as the masses screamed with delight.

“Did you say this lasts all weekend?” Kiva had to nearly shout at Jaren to be heard over the booms.

“The next two days will be quieter,” he said, also close to yelling. “It’ll be more about art, culture, and community, and not so much about the drama.”

Dramawas a good word for it, Kiva thought. The show had been a spectacle from the moment the boat appeared on the water — a boat that had now vanished, the queen having returned to the palace, leaving her people to enjoy the festivities.

Kiva settled in to watch the pyrotechnical display, oohing and ahhing along with Tipp. Only when the last ember dissolved did the hovering water droplets trickle back into the Serin, the palace slowly fading to normal. The lotus lanterns, however, remained lighting up the water, and while the orchestra had silenced with the finale of the fireworks, street musicians began to play upbeat tunes, continuing the festivities now that the official celebration had ended.

“We should go,” Naari said, standing and dusting pastry flakes off her leathery armor, a near-identical outfit to what she’d worn at Zalindov. “I want us back at the palace before things get too rowdy down there. I’d rather not have to explain to the king and queen why their son and his friends were caught up in a drunken street brawl.”