The music stopped on a high note. The women held their poses for a moment, like living statues, then withdrew along a narrow, raised path to the back of the room and vanished behind green curtains.
A man strode to the stage and halted by the red moat. He wore a light gray doublet and dark gray trousers tucked into tall boots. A teal cloak hung off his left shoulder, more of a fashion statement than a protective garment. His back was to me, so I couldn’t see his face, only his curly dark hair, cut short, and the color of his skin, a russet brown.
He pondered the empty stage as if puzzled and waved his hand. A globe of red water shot up from the moat fifteen feet into the air and snapped into a monstrous fish.
Oh!
The creature swam above the stage, circling it. Its long eel-like body kept going and going, long and slightly translucent, the sharp ridged fin along its back bristling with red spikes. It was big enough to swallow a human in one gulp.
Goosebumps crawled up my arms.
The fish’s grotesque jaws snapped, catching its tail. It exploded into a dozen stelkas. They rained onto the center of the stage and dashed into the dining room, darting between the tables. To the side a waiter gripped his tray and jerked it up over his head as a beast shot by his legs. People chuckled.
The stelkas burst into geysers of crimson flower petals. They swirled, flashed with light, and turned into golden butterflies.
Oh wow.
The glowing swarms floated over the dining floor, bouncing on the draft, spreading in all directions.
It was too much. Too bright, too colorful, too everything . . .
The nearest group of butterflies changed its course, drifting close to each other instead of fanning out. They were heading right for me.
No time to react. A second, and they swirled around my body, clinging to my cloak. One landed on my shoulder, one tried to wedge itself in my hood, and the third rammed my right cheek . . .
People were looking at me.
I didn’t belong here. I was wearing a cloak that smelled like a corpse. There was river muck in my hair. My bare feet had probably left muddy footprints in the hallway. I couldn’t have been more out of place if I had set myself on fire.
The butterflies exploded in a puff of soft sparks. Something zinged my skin, like a weak rubber band slapping against my face.
A woman blocked my view, hiding me from the other patrons. She wore a red gown cut too low, and her brown hair was braided into an elaborate lattice and secured with silver ornaments. She looked like a fairy princess in search of someone to seduce.
“Welcome, my lady. How may the Garden serve you today?”
I opened my mouth.
A paralyzing fear gripped me. I tried to make words, but nothing happened. I hadn’t spoken to a human being since I got here. I’d understood Lecke, but it’s not like we’d exchanged pleasantries while I robbed him and he stabbed me to death. What if I said something, and English came out instead of Rellasian. What if she asked me questions?
I’d run away. The door was right there. She wouldn’t chase me.
The princess woman waited.
I had to say something. I strained, and miraculously my memory served up the right phrase.
“A private respite and a light dinner.” My voice sounded hoarse.
“Do you seek serenity or luxury?”
It worked. Holy shit, it worked.
“Serenity.” I couldn’t afford luxury. I probably couldn’t afford serenity either, but those were my only choices.
“It is our privilege to serve you today. Klemena will guide you to your room.”
A woman in a simpler red gown stepped forward and bowed to me. She looked to be in her late teens. “Please follow me, my lady.”
I didn’t qualify as a lady by any metric, but there were no commoners in the Garden. Here everyone wasmy lordandmy lady. One of the perks of paying an arm and a leg to get through the door.
