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CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

IN WHICH THE PARTY AT LAST ARRIVES AT THE ISLAND CITY

“You two look comfortable.”

Roused by the random remark, I opened my eyes to see Hohem standing over me, grinning around a zanna root.

Weight across my chest prevented me from sitting up.

I turned my head and was met by Luthri nestled against my side.

Face slack, hair mussed, and a hint of drool at the corner of his mouth, he clung to me in sleep as though I was his personal body pillow.

“Lovely,” I muttered under my breath as I shifted his arm back into his bubble. Once freed, I retrieved a zanna root from our luggage and chewed as I re-braided my hair.

Hohem spat his root onto the ground and moved to begin disassembling our shelter, not appearing too bothered by the fact that Luthri was passed out inside.

“Get a move on. We haven’t got all day,” he remarked.

“Sun’s barely up!” I protested, glancing at the pale orange sky. “Where’s Vyrain?”

“Taking a shit.”

No sooner had he gotten the answer out than the man returned, plodding up the path from the direction of the beach.

He mumbled a greeting to me before helping Hohem pack our things.

They took apart the lean-to together, leaving Lu exposed in his cozy nest of blankets.

I joined them to retrieve the bedding. When I got to Luthri’s mat, I nudged him with one foot.

He startled awake with a disgruntled “Hmph?!”

“We’re packing up. Sai do mêi—out of the way.”

“Couldn’t you have been a little gentler?” Lu grumbled as he bundled his sleeping mat.

“I could have,” I tossed over my shoulder, stuffing the items I’d amassed into our pack after the tarp.

While I was at it, I rooted around for the food supplies.

As we were all eager to get back on the road, we had a quick breakfast of dehydrated fruit, nuts, and the last of the bread from the ship’s cook before loading up and setting out.

The fields of high grass gave way to neat sections of manufactured wetlands, for lack of a better term, as we drew closer to the island capital.

Borders were carefully laid out in parallel squares like a draughts board.

The water in these sections appeared perhaps knee height and clean, with lush, green plant matter peeking above the surface.

It was there that we encountered our first residents of Munarzed: a small group of farmers in wide-brimmed hats combing through the waterlogged rows in near-perfect sync to clear weeds and pests.

My lips pressed into a thin line. They hadn’t noticed us yet, but they would—the widest path through the water-grown crops, which could be called a road if one were feeling generous, passed by the sections where they worked.

Sure enough, a head raised, then another.

The first worker straightened up, leaning against their tool as we approached.

The second mirrored the movement a beat later.

Both their faces broke out in welcoming smiles at the same time, giving them identical expressions.

Maybe they were related? The smiles seemed genuine, but something about it made me itch.

The first worker, a short, stout man with scruffy facial hair and earlobes that reached his shoulders, raised a hand in greeting. “Ho!” he exclaimed. “Welcome to Munarzed!”

I met his eyes, gave a friendly nod and little wave in return, and kept walking.

The boys followed my lead. In the distance, the other workers had paused to observe our exchange.

Similarly, their faces bore wide, disarming smiles, though they didn’t approach.

When we made no effort to speak to them, they returned to their work one by one.

“That wasn’t bad at all,” Vyrain remarked once we were out of earshot. “I expected… I’m not sure what I expected, actually. But something really weird.”

“Mm.” I looked to Luthri. He appeared thoughtful, still pondering the interaction. I had yet to relax, but I hoped this was a sign that they wouldn’t give us any trouble.

“I can’t say I found anything concerning about their attitude.” Hohem scratched the back of his head. “All the Ishameti people I’ve encountered are just as friendly. Most of Kereti too. I guess we’ll see what they mean about acting strange.”

“Don’t let your guard down,” I reminded him, glancing behind to make sure we weren’t followed. “Things will change when we’re in the city. For better or worse.”

When we reached the city boundary, I was inclined to think things had changed for the better. The capital appeared a paradise by every definition of the word.

To begin, there was no checkpoint, not even so much as an Epitgig with an abacus.

The boundary was defined by no fence or wall, only a transition from nature’s glory to man-made.

Streets went from trampled dirt to neat cobblestones lined with mana lamps and decorative trees whose green- and peach-toned leaves were taking on the rich orange tint of early autumn.

Along the main road were brand-new buildings of vibrant red brick and tan stone with glass windows and slate roofs, planters providing splashes of flowers and climbing plants to enrich the exteriors.

Cute wood cottages with dainty, carefully cultivated gardens sat beyond the main road, spaced from one another so that each resident had their own property.

One side of the city had been built beside farmland—what little of it there was to be had on the island—while the other side spread onto cliffs overlooking the ocean.

Chalk it up to timing, but sunlight caught the buildings at an angle that made the entire space glow.

The area bustled with activity, much like Solfarin, the coastal city.

But where Solfarin was life and heart, all the passion, the unexpected, and the rough edges that came with it, things here were…

different. Those heading in the same direction kept to one side of the street, avoiding the awkward dance to keep from bumping into someone else.

Everyone moved with intention. Motions appeared well-practiced.

Muted conversation drifted in between the shuffling of feet, goods exchanging hands, and the occasional bray or bark of a working animal.

I couldn’t place what was wrong, but whatever it was made my skin prickle.

As we ventured farther inside, residents began to take note of our presence.

The mood shifted. People paused in waves to look up, smile, and raise a hand in greeting.

We didn’t make it ten meters past the entrance before one of the passersby, a short, older woman slathered in freckles, split off to approach us—smiling widely, of course.

“Hi!” she began, waving with both hands as she scrutinized our party. “Welcome to Munarzed. What brings you to our little island?”

“Thank you. We’re, ah…” I paused. Could I ask after Narille without giving it away that we were looking for her?

If that was all anyone came for these days, they already knew why we were here.

Subterfuge wouldn’t get us the answers we needed.

With that in mind, I told her, “We’re looking for Narille, the Kereti heiress. ”

“That’s great!”

I jumped at the voice coming from behind us. Luthri slid closer, coming to stand half in between me and the pale young man with a head of curly, off-white hair who had spoken.

“We’ve had so many visitors since the Lady Narille chose to move here,” the man continued, nodding to himself. “It’s a dream come true! Have you decided where you’ll stay?”

One of the twins made a nervous sound in his throat. I whipped around to see the lady tugging at Vyrain’s hand, beaming. “You must come by my home for a drink and some sweets,” she cajoled. “I’d be honored to give you a taste of Munarzed hospitality!”

Hohem grasped his brother’s shoulder. “Thank you, but we’ve got a schedule to stick to.” He shot me a meaningful look.

“Ah, that’s right.” I put on a rueful expression. “We’re already behind schedule. Maybe if there’s time before we leave. If you could tell us where we can find Miss Kereti, though, that would speed things up—we’d be much obliged!”

A hand plucked at my belt. I stiffened, looking down to see… a toddler, its cherubic face a veritable sunbeam of joy. Well, it wasn’t the strangest thing I’d seen in the fae realm.

“You’ve got to visit Rugaveld,” it said before transitioning the hand it had used to get my attention to its mouth, resulting in a heavy speech impediment. “He’w be abuw to hewp.”

“You’re sure you haven’t a moment to spare?” The woman pouted. “I haven’t gotten to entertain guests in far too long. I have a recipe for suncakes that will change your lives!”

Luthri swooped in, clasping the lady’s hand in his.

“Your kindness is a blessing,” he murmured, brushing his lips against the back of her hand, “and we’ll never forget it.

But alas, we must be leaving. If you are inclined to show the next group of travelers this hospitality in our stead, your deity will surely reward your efforts. ”

“Oh, it’s no bother!” She waved off his words, putting her free hand to her ruddy cheek. “It would be entirely my pleasure to have you. Should Rugaveld not have what you need, do return. We will be happy to help in any way we can.”

Lu gave her a sad smile. “So kind.” He patted her hand and released it, returning to my side. “Would you do us one more kindness and point us toward this Rugaveld?”

“Fowwow da woad.” The toddler popped its hand from its mouth to give us clearer directions. “The big house all the way at the end. You can’t miss it.”

“Safe travels,” the young man chimed in. “Hope to see you again soon!”

Behind him, a picture-perfect Alfen couple had also split from the traffic to make for us, arms spread wide in welcome. If we didn’t get moving soon, we’d be surrounded.