“But don’t they hurt?” he asked, his shyness giving way to curiosity.
“Not if your piercer is proficient in the right magic,” I said, splashing water on my face in a cursory effort at washing. “When we get to the markets you can see for yourself. There are lots of piercers and tattoo artists.” A shiver ran through me. “That’s if we don’t freeze in this damned stream,” I added.
“Wait,” Sparrow said. “I can help.”
A moment later a warmth began to spread through the water around me and I raised an eyebrow. “Do I want to know how you’re doing that, or is it better not to ask? Because I only know of one way to warm up a patch of river,” I teased.
His brow creased, and then he let out a shocked laugh. “No! It’s my magic, I promise!” he said, still laughing.
Even with Sparrow’s magic taking some of the chill from the water, it was still too cool to stay in for long, so wewashed ourselves rapidly and scrambled up the bank along with the rest of our new friends and shook ourselves dry. Once again a small patch of sunshine appeared where Sparrow and I were standing, warming my skin as I dried myself. I gave him a grateful smile, and in return I showed him how to wring the water out of his braid.
Once everyone was dressed, we shared a breakfast of bread and cheese before packing up the carts. We all clambered aboard and set out on the road to Everend, with both Sparrow and me squeezing into the second cart. It was a tight fit, with squished elbows and pulled-in knees, and Sparrowdidend up sitting in my lap. I kept an arm wrapped around his waist to make sure he didn’t bounce off the cart and into the dirt as we rumbled along rough, narrow roads with more than their fair share of potholes.
Even with Sparrow balanced on my knee, riding was a welcome break from walking, and it seemed like no time at all had passed before the rutted track gave way to a wider, paved road, and we were no longer the only travelers. There were elves on horseback, walking elves, and one memorable group that seemed to consist of nothing but jugglers—and of course, more carts, all headed to one destination.
By the time we approached Glaesflod, the road was a mass of elves, and the carts were axle to axle. “Oh my,” Sparrow said, his eyes as wide as saucers. “It’s busier than I expected.” We passed through the outskirts of the area, and I caught Sparrow casting doubtful looks about as we drove down a road with two dogs humping beside it—which was a fair indicator of what Glaesflod was about, if I was honest. “I thought Everend would be… more reputable,” he said carefully.
“It is!” Alariel said cheerfully. “But this is Glaesflod, which is proudly disreputable. It’s where you come for a different kind of fun.”
Sparrow’s brow creased.
“It’s where the brothels are,” Silrisar chimed in. He hesitated. “You do know what a brothel is, right?”
“Of course!” Sparrow said, his face flushing pink, but I wasn’t so sure. Never mind. I’d explain it to him later. He kept his gaze fixed on his boots until we passed out of Glaesflod and over the bridge into Everend.
Everend.
It was impossible to remain unaffected by the place. It was the birthplace of the first elves in all the land and sacred to every one of us. Also, after passing through Glaesflod, it appeared pristine in comparison, like taking a breath of fresh, clean air after stepping away from a smoky fire. Indeed, the central pavilions—the Ceremonial Pavilion and the Marketplace Pavillion—were breathtakingly elegant and intricate structures, with pointed arches, pillars like living trees, and elegant fretwork that let in the light. I couldn’t wait for Sparrow to see them.
“We’re here,” I said quietly.
Sparrow raised his head. His face lit up as we passed under the colorful banner that welcomed visitors, and the carts rattled past the various signs that directed them to the campgrounds, the main pavilions, and the food stalls.
A cacophony of voices rang out as competing stallholders loudly hawked their wares—all at a one-time-only-blink-and-you’ll-miss-it special price—and the smell of roasted meats wafted through the air, along with traces of perfume from the apothecary and the unmistakable aromas of the animal pavilion. It was a heady mix.
The cart made its way along the road, making slow progress against the press of shoulder-to-shoulder elves, but Sparrow didn’t seem to mind the leisurely pace, busy turning this way and that and trying to take in everything at once, his eyes like saucers.
Then a large shadow passed overhead, and I tapped Sparrow’s elbow, remembering what he’d said earlier. “Look up.”
He did, and let out a loud gasp. “An balloon! Elowin, it’s a hot air balloon!” His earlier excitement returned and he squirmed in my lap, craning his neck and tilting his head back, which had the effect of pressing his back against my chest. I was far too aware of his closeness, the heat of his body, and the still-damp length of his braid, but I did my best to ignore all those things, reminding myself that Sparrow wasn’t interested in me like that. He was only interested in the prince.
“How does it stay in the air?” he asked, dragging me out of my thoughts.
“I don’t exactly know,” I confessed. “Maybe magic, maybe mechanics. Maybe both. But I’m sure we can talk to the Gearwick elves and they’ll be happy to tell you.”
“Well, it’samazing,” Sparrow said reverently, still staring as the balloon went gliding past overhead, propellers turning.
“Gearwick elves will talk about the mechanics of flight forhoursif you give them a chance,” Silrisar said before shooting Sparrow a lazy grin. “Mind you, some of their other inventions are a lot of fun too. I met an elf once that had a self-powered dildo that could?—”
“Here’s the turnoff!” I interrupted loudly, and Silrisar took in Sparrow’s bright red face and took the hint.
Sparrow shot me a grateful smile, and I wrapped my arm more firmly around his waist. We followed the road that curved to the left and made our way to the campground, and Sparrow climbed out of the cart as soon as we pulled to a stop. I grabbed the pack he’d forgotten in his excitement and followed him so I wouldn’t lose him in the crowd, lest he come back with green hair, piercings, and a mechanical dildo—not that I thought there was anythingwrongwith any of those things. I was a fan of all of them. It was more that Sparrow was so obviously unpreparedfor the marketplace that I didn't want him to get robbed blind by the more unscrupulous dildo-makers.
I needn’t have worried. As soon as my feet hit the ground, Sparrow was at my side, eyes wide. “When will I meet the prince?”
“We can go and find him now,” I said.
I’d thought Sparrow would be excited, but he looked more thoughtful than anything. His brows pulled together and then his gaze darted over to the carts where our new friends were busily claiming their space, setting up their canopy with the expertise that came from ample practice. Sparrow bit his lip and said hesitantly, “Oh, yes. That would be the proper thing to do.”
