Page 18 of Tears of Gold

The first guard guides us away from the crush of people and through a doorway. Our footsteps thunk loudly in the sudden quiet of an empty hall, the shadowed walkway cooler than the open air.

“This way, please.” He leads us along a passage, and we emerge from the tunnel, away from the crowds. Rows of vehicles like old-fashioned snow sleighs stand along the edge of the wall, and the guard bows us into one. He steals curious glances at Erritt’s face and bows lower as the prince climbs aboard, making me think he’s pieced the truth together but doesn’t dare ask for confirmation.

“Take us to the city square,” Vanrey orders. Turning to us, he adds, “It would take hours to walk from here.”

“We can’t teleport?” I ask. I’m not in a hurry to do so, just curious.

The guard glances at me. “Teleporting is forbidden within the city, except at four destination centers. The streets would be chaos otherwise, with everyone phasing in and out. Royal guards and the city watch are permitted, and of course, the emperor and his family are also exempt.” He glances at the bulge under Vanrey’s sleeve. “And, of course, anyone who carries their seal of authority.”

It makes sense, considering millions of people must live in this maze of streets. I slide onto a seat next to Rita and tug the lap belt over my hips, securing the metal clasp. I wish I had managed to snag the seat next to Harper, but he’s climbed in the back with Erritt while Vanrey sits beside the driver up front.

I fold my hands tightly in my lap, my fingers still warm from Harper’s grip. Why am I so sensitive to Harper’s presence? He’s been sweet and helpful, but does he feel anything else for me? Except for the first day in the infirmary, he’s never asked me if I remember him. Why?

I puff out a frustrated breath. Why am I even thinking about him so much? I squeak when our open-sided car quivers and rises straight up into the air.

Rita scoffs under her breath, “Country goblin.”

I stick my tongue at her but take the hand she offers as the sleigh wobbles and rises higher, the air below us gleaming with pale mauve qi.

We zip over the top of the city, and the view of the palace steals my breath away. Pale stone similar to the academy buildings rises in layers resembling the castles I’ve seen in Japan, their dark slate roofs capped with gold. But the scale is mind-boggling, the royal palace itself a small city several miles wide, framed by the rest of the capital.

As we approach, the walls come into focus, the red and gold banners draped over them creating a striped effect as if the whole thing were a giant, solid tapestry. Laced everywhere over the walls, peaked roofs and banners dangle globes on strings, as if a grandmother’s pearls adorn the palace.

Shadows lengthen over the city, casting the alleys into gloom. A deep, throaty horn bellows out from one of the palace towers, reverberating through the air in long waves.

Vanrey gives directions to the driver, and our vehicle slows until we hover in place, and Rita squeezes my arm. “It’s starting, and we’re in the perfect place to watch.”

The globes draped over the palace walls suddenly switch on in the fading sunset. Light ripples outward from the palace as the darkening streets glow in coordinated patterns, the network of lights growing like a living organism until the entire city shines with festival globes.

“Welcome to the Mihan Lights,” Prince Erritt announces.

I murmur my awe and lean over Rita to see better. It’s as if we’re gliding across a lake filled with gleaming marbles as we cruise slowly overhead, turning to avoid the palace. I’ve seen city lights at night from an airplane window several times back on Earth, but this feels much more brilliantly alive.

We fly past the palace and descend into a runway filled with vehicles like ours, my ears popping with the altitude change.

Rita lifts one brow as I work my jaw to rid the last of the hum in my ears. “What are you doing?”

Behind me, Harper chuckles and braces his arms on the back of my seat, brushing against my neck. Butterflies flock in my stomach. He'll have quite the view if he glances over my shoulder, thanks to my plunging neckline. Although, with Rita’s magic and tape, at least my dress front doesn’t flap.

His voice comes from just behind my head. “Human problems, Rita. Some of us actually have to work to adjust to elevation changes.”

My elemental bodyguard shakes her human-looking head sadly. “So glad I’m not human.”

I bite my lip to hold in a chuckle. Between the lights, music drifting down the street, and the banter, a giddy sensation bubbles up inside my chest. I’ve been on Exerin-Mi for months, and I’m finally getting a day out to enjoy myself. Perhaps coming to the capital wasn’t such a bad idea.

Chapter Seven

Ava

As we alight from the vehicle, Vanrey thanks the guard and slips him a coin. Erritt appears at the side of the car and offers me his hand to step down. I nod shyly, marveling again over how I’m keeping the company of a royal, even though I’m not sure I want it. His palm is cool to the touch, and I falter as I get a flicker of a mental image of him holding a spear of ice. I blink, and it’s gone, maybe nothing more than a trick of the lights.

We stroll past the rows of vehicles, and I play with names for them, settling on ‘sky cabs’ as we reach the end of the parking lot, which opens into a giant plaza. Above our heads hangs a mesh of dangling lights, the darkening sky above contrasting and giving everything a pearlescent glow.

Throngs of people mill around the plaza, enjoying music from buskers in different corners, street food vendors, and performers. Fresh flowers, vines, and banners drape across every vacant wall, giving the illusion we could be in a garden or a city half-lost to an encroaching jungle.

A drummer sits on a mat by one corner, beating out a lively cadence that has my shoulders wriggling to the rhythm. From somewhere further in the crowd, a flute trills, high and cheerful. The smell of a thousand flowers blends with the rich tang of the freshly cooked meats sizzling at the endless lines of vendors' carts.

The crowd just in front of us thins, and I stop walking. Dotted everywhere are sculptures, or more accurately, living artworks. Running fountains of water with no basins cycle endlessly, and ice or stone sculptures grow slowly before my eyes, like living things recorded under time-lapse. Further down the street, plumes of light writhe over the crowd as a performer juggles wreaths of fire. Wisps of smoke join the aura overhead, softening the ceiling of light.