He grunted, still not convinced. “And the dancing?”
“It’s how we learn to react and respond to the music, and therefore the magic. Different steps or movements serve certain purposes, and some combinations are more effective than others, depending on the situation. Aha! Here we are. Welcome to Arboris.”
They had come upon the gates as they were conversing, and Alex saw now that each was made, not of cut wood, but formed from the branches of a living tree. They twisted and curled together, creating a filigree of bark and leaves. The trunks of the trees were straight and tall, standing flush against the green wall that extended on either side. Beyond the gates the sights and sounds of the bustling activity of a city captured Alex’s senses.
He followed Celesta through the gates then stopped in his tracks. He wasn’t sure what he had been expecting to find, but it certainly hadn’t been this.
Rather than a main thoroughfare, the road they were currently on branched off in several different directions, winding around the tree trunks and through thick undergrowth in a way that complemented and enhanced the natural beauty of the forest. Shops and other buildings were built into and around the tree trunks, at times blending so seamlessly that Alex wasn’t sure where one ended and the other began. The road that branched off to their left seemed to lead to a marketplace, as booths made of woven vines and leafy boughs were arranged in some semblance of order, and bright displays of fresh fruit, flowers, and colorful fabrics spilled out over counters.
But Arboris on the ground level was nothing compared to what was above. The city had been built upwards, into the trees. Platforms and walkways stretched across the distance from tree to tree so that it was possible to walk from one end of the city to the other without ever having to set foot on the ground. Branches formed support beams for wooden buildings just as impressive in their architecture and artistry as the gates below.
The inhabitants of the city varied in appearance, from short and broad to tall and willowy, though Alex noted that all shared the same tapered, pointed ears that Celesta had. A majority of them also had skin in differing shades of brown, and many of the women wore leaves or flowers woven into their hair.
“Alexander!” Celesta’s voice caught his attention, and he realized she was now quite a few paces ahead of him. He quickly caught up to her.
“I hope you’re good with heights,” the ballerina said as she gave a chipper smile and wave to a passerby.
“Does Drosselmeyer live in the trees?”
“What? Oh, no. Drosselmeyer doesn’t live here. We probably won’t be able to do more than send him a message. But the best chocolate in the city is in one of the shops at the very top.”
He sidestepped, narrowly missing the shoulder of a fae man who was so deep in conversation with his neighbor that he seemed unaware of Alex’s existence. His companion turned to give an apologetic smile, then his face fell slack and his eyes widened. He pulled the oblivious fae’s arm and began whispering intensely.
Alex shook his head, ignoring the strange reaction, and turned his attention instead to Celesta’s words. “What do you mean, chocolate?” he asked with a frown. “We need to be looking for Drosselmeyer to find a way to fix the gateway, not making detours for sweets.”
She led him to a place where a circular stairway had been built into the sides of a wide tree. “You shouldalwaysmake detours for sweets,” she returned, smiling archly. Her feet took the steps two at a time, seeming to almost float up the incline. “Especially when in Arboris. This place has the best chocolate in Faerie. I always make sure to stop there when I come.”
He curled his fists in frustration, wincing at the pain and stiffness in his left hand. Unlike his other previous injuries, it was not healing. In fact, the stiffness seemed to be spreading. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised,” he grumbled under his breath.
Celesta stopped and turned around lightly on her toes. “What do you mean?”
It seemed those pointed ears gave an increased sense of hearing.
“I just mean that it makes sense that you would have a fondness for sugar, with you being all…” Alex gestured vaguely at her.
“Small? Funny-looking? Unnatural? Disgraceful?” The light in her eyes dimmed and the tips of her wings wilted as she summoned the words with a readiness that spoke to having heard them often.
“What? No!” Alex reared his head back and wrinkled his nose in disgust. Once again, he was filled with a strange feeling of protectiveness, and he wished he could give a good shaking to whatever person had filled her ears with such garbage. She might be annoyingly cheerful, but Celesta was none of the things she had just spoken about herself. “I meant that you’re so…happy. And sweet. You never stop smiling.”
She tilted her head mischievously and her wings perked back up. “You think I’m sweet?”
He crossed his arms in front of his chest and started walking again, even though he had no idea where they were going. His choice of words was coming back to bite him. He couldn’t have her getting the wrong impression; he was willing to work with her in order to get the gate fixed, but that’s as far as their relationship would go. “Like a sugar plum–so sweet it makes my teeth hurt.”
“That’s still a yes,” Celesta sang teasingly as she skipped past him.
“I don’t like sugar plums,” he answered flatly, though there was no real hardness in his voice.
“Come on, Mr. Monde,” the little ballerina laughed. “I’m sure we’ll be able to find some chocolate bitter enough to suit you.”
Five
WhenCelestasaidthatthe shop was at the very top of the city, she had not been exaggerating. Alex was sweating and breathing heavily by the time they finally climbed the last ladder, and he forced himself to keep from looking down as they crossed the suspended bridges.
“We’re almost there,” Celesta called back to him, annoyingly still as fresh and energetic as when they had started.
It has to be the wings. There’s no other way she’s not exhausted after climbing this high. “You said that five minutes ago.” A breeze caused the bridge they were on to sway, and he gripped the rope until his knuckles turned white.
“No, I said, ‘We’ll be there soon.’ There’s a difference.”
