On our third day out of Northend, I see another storm in the distance.
“That’s no storm. That’s Gallaed,” Rent explains.
I squint at the black clouds. “There’s a city in there?”
“The best city,” Hax says. “Rent and I were born and raised there. Gallaed, the city of progress.”
It doesn’t look progressive. It looks like it’s on fire.
In all my reading, in all my books, I’ve never heard of the city. I shake my head with a shrug.
“You’ve never heard of Gallaed? What, have you been locked away in a library all your life?” Hax doubles over with laughter at his own joke.
I’m not amused.
Mieklo chitters near my ear, echoing my annoyance. I give him a piece of parchment for his attempt at solidarity. I feel the tickle of his excitement as he takes it from me like a feather brushing through my mind. It makes me smile.
Hax takes my expression as appreciation of his joke and an invitation to continue. I don’t know what he’s going on about, but it’s more for his own amusement than mine.
“You know, Lo. You shouldn’t encourage him,” Rent says over the top of his book. “When he thinks he’s funny, he’s even more intolerable.”
It’s hard to imagine.
The Agora Glade is behind us, and the only thing ahead is the black smudge that is Gallaed. So it’s the only thing for me to focus on. It helps blot out Hax’s incessant chattering. The man loves his own voice.
I don’t notice it right away, but there’s a steady, faroff rumble in the distance. It sounds like a herd of plainsbeasts stampeding toward us. It grows louder as we approach Gallaed. “What is that noise?” I ask.
“That is the auto-carriages on the grastrada above the city,” Rent explains.
I don’t know the word, so I ask.
“Grastrada? It’s a road for only auto-carriages. So they can go as fast as they want.”
I picture a wagon bouncing along behind a runaway horse. My face must mirror my confusion.
“You’ll see all of Gallaed’s splendors soon.” Rent goes back to his book.
With that, I’m left to my own thoughts. Like the road ahead, they’re dominated by the strange city. Midday passes, and the city walls loom closer. They look like plates of iron haphazardly thrown up, overlapping, and nailed into place. The walls look formidable, but they’re stained with rust that bleeds between the plates. I can barely make out a gate amongst them. It just looks like more of the same, but I can guess at its position from where the road meets it.
Once we’re standing right in front of it, I still can’t see the gate. The only thing that breaks the pattern of rusty plates is a flared tube poking out of a small break.
“State your business,” the flared tube says. The voice hisses and crackles.
I don’t see anyone making the voice, but I can’t see the other side of the tube.
“We’re passing through on our way to Phiur. We need supplies,” Jilli says. “We were attacked on the road by a haz-dra, and we lost all of our packs and clothes and food.”
“You’ll have to turn back or go around. No visitors.” The crackle cuts off abruptly.
Jilli frowns and turns to Rent. “That’s odd. You want to try?”
Rent nods and steps up to the flared tube. “I am Renthrope Bentley Bowers III. My brother Haxley and I live here. You will grant us entry.”
Renthrope and Haxley? Those names make them sound wealthy, not like common adventurers.
The iron wall is silent. Then just as Rent is about to speak again, It begins to creak and squeal, opening outward on rusty hinges. Only half of the gate opens, and only wide enough for Gnuf to get through. We’re barely through before it starts to close again.
I never do see the gate guards. They’re hidden somewhere in the wall of iron plates.
As the gate clangs closed, I turn forward to follow the others, and I get my first look of Gallaed.
Northend is the only city I’ve seen up to now, but I know this is no normal city. Strange, flat carriages with no horses pulling them growl past us, and even stoic Gnuf is disturbed by them, braying a long note at Jilli. She scratches his ears to calm him. The carriages move faster than a horse.
They’re a constant noise and a constant movement that make it difficult to focus on much else, but as my eyes wander up, I take in the impossibly tall buildings. I can see six stories of windows before they completely disappear into the low-hanging fog, taller than the great library. Lights are on in some, covering the buildings with a random pattern of yellowish squares.
Looking lower, at the street level, overwhelms my senses. It’s a contrast of light and dark. The sun is hidden by all of the fog, but signs lit with too-bright colors advertise the shops crowded together along the path we walk.
Khim’s Cafe. Books, books, books. Pip’s Smoke Shop. Hot sandwiches!
It’s like a false daylight, cast in weird colors.
“We should catch the tram,” Hax says.
“Gnuf doesn’t like the tram,” Jilli replies. She pats the ummuth’s nose as he brays at the sound of his name.
Hax rolls his eyes. “But it’s so far to walk. This is why we have these conveniences. So I don’t have to be inconvenienced.”
Jilli doesn’t reply. Sometimes the best reply to Hax is no reply at all.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“Rent and Hax live on the north side of Gallaed,” Jilli explains. “Their parents have let us stay on our way through once before.”
At some point, Blaize has joined us. She walks beside Jilli, and though her knives are sheathed, she still looks on edge, snapping her head around as the carriages zip past us, watching the hands of every person that passes. She hasn’t said much to me directly, but I like Blaize because she makes me feel safe. I don’t know what dangers to watch for, but she does.
“Strange response from the gate guards,” Rent muses over the top of his book. “Gallaed doesn’t turn travelers away. They’re the lifeblood of a city. My father should know more.”
“Renthrope! Haxley! My boys!”
We meet their mother in a large foyer. She runs to them, past the floating metal contraption that opened the door for us, and taking turns to hug each of them. “Oh, your father will be so disappointed he missed you. He’s away in Sabre.”
I watch the floating door-butler go back to its place behind the door, on a tall thin table. The machine is made of haphazard metal plates like the city wall, only smaller and made of oil-rubbed brass. The plates form disks like two dinner plates welded together. Its glowing yellow eyes dim as it shuts down to save power, but I know it must still be listening.
“I thought he stopped traveling?” Rent asks.
“He didn’t have much of a choice,” their mother says. “With the city locked up, not many were willing to make the trip. So he had to go himself. You know, if he had sons who were here to help him–”
“Why is the city closed to visitors?”
Their mother brushes off the interruption, like she expected it. She drops her voice. “We heard about Roln. The erebus are close and in numbers unseen before.” Maybe she thinks the demons will overhear her.
“Yes, they attacked Northend too,” Hax says. I’m surprised it took him this long to speak. “We’re just from there.”
“Oh! I’m so glad you two are alright!” She hugs them with one arm each. “I worry for you boys. I wish you would pick a safer hobby.”
A strange choice of words.
“Come, come. No need to stand in the entryway. Come sit, and I’ll have Bruce get us some refreshments.” She takes us to a sitting room. It has four couches, one for each direction, then a pair of armchairs and a large low table in the center. It’s like a dining room but with more comfortable furniture.
A machine even flatter than the door-butler whirrs around on the floor. I can’t see what it’s doing, but it seems to be sweeping the floor.
A tray of food floats into the room, and upon further inspection, I see there is another tiny machine carrying it. It looks different than the one that answered the door or the one sweeping the floor. It’s a simple round thing a little smaller than Mieklo with extendable arms.
“Mother, this is Lola-Grace. Lo, our mother, Jarreldee,” Hax says.
“Jarreldee Wanda Bowers,” she corrects.
“A pleasure to meet you, ma’am. The machines are fascinating.” I point at the machine as it comes back with a second tray, this one with a pitcher and half a dozen glasses. Real glass! It’s heavier than I expect, considering how fragile I know it to be. I hold it tenderly but with both hands.
“Oh, that’s just Bruce,” Jarreldee says. “Bruce, introduce yourself.”
“Yes, ma’am. Hello. I am Bruce.” The machine’s voice is tinny and crackles like the tube at the city gate. It bows its tiny body.
“Bruce is a brass-bot,” Rent explains to me. “He has been butler to the Bowers family since before I was born. You might be interested to know that every brass-bot has its own personality. They’re more than just machines. The magitech gives them not just propulsion but life.”
“Mrs. Bowers, this lemonade is excellent,” Blaize says just before drinking down the rest of her glass. She holds it out to Bruce, and the floating bot refills it.
“Thank you, dear, but that’s all the kitchen bots.” She takes a sip of her lemonade.
I haven’t touched my own lemonade or any of the cold platter that’s set out between us. I’m too captivated watching Bruce. How does he stay in the air? What is magitech, and how does it bring these machines to life?
“If you have no more need for me, ma’am, I’ll go recharge,” Bruce says.
Jarreldee waves him off. “Yes, of course, Bruce. You’re dismissed.”
As he floats out of the room, I wonder if that’s why the door-bot retreated to the table after closing the door, to recharge?
“Renthrope,” Jarreldee begins, and I see him cringe at the name, “Maybe it’s for the best that the city is locked down. The erebus are out there, but we’re safe in here. Maybe it’s a sign to give up this silly adventuring thing.” Her smile is as simple as the request she’s just made.
Both Rent and Hax have an immediate reaction. Both are on their feet and setting down their mostly full glasses as one.
“Mother, it was a pleasure as always,” Rent says, “but we have to go.”
“No, no, but you just got here.” Jarreldee grabs a tight hold of Rent’s sleeve.
“And you’re excellent at reminding us why we left,” Hax replies. He kisses her on the cheek and moves faster for the door.
I scramble to follow. Jilli and Blaize come behind me more slowly. I realize my mistake as Jerraldee brings the brothers both to a stop and I’m in the middle. Mieklo chitters at my discomfort.
“Just stay until your father comes home. He’ll be so happy to see you.”
“Mother, that could be months,” Rent argues.
“And maybe the erebus will be gone by then.” Jerraldee continues to pull at Rent’s arm, trying to lead him back to the sitting room. “It’ll be safer.”
“We’re not going to stick around to find out,” Hax says. He plucks his mother’s hand from Rent’s sleeve. Rent opens the door, getting the door-bot into a fluster as it’s rendered useless. It buzzes around our heads, then goes back to its charging post, eyes flashing.
I duck under the arms surrounding me and slip through the open door. Mieklo steadies himself on my shoulder as I take a deep breath now that I’m out in the open. Jilli and Blaize come out, and I look behind them.
Rent and Hax are still in the doorway with their mother.
Jerraldee is still trying to convince them. “Please, at least stay the night. Your beds are more comfortable than some inn or sleeping in a ditch beside the road.”
Rent kisses his mother. “Tell father we’re sorry we missed him.” With that, he leads the way down the walkway and away from the house.
I catch a glimpse of a brass-bot pulling weeds and trimming bushes in the spacious yard. It looks similar to the bot that was sweeping, low to the ground, but with arms with built in pruning tools.
Gnuf is trampling a bed of flowers as he munches on the petals. Jilli whistles, and he looks up, braying at her return. He tramps out of the flower bed, and the garden-bot rushes over to try and refresh the flowers.
“Well, I dare say that went better than last time,” Jilli says as Gnuf joins us and she scratches his nose.
“Yes, it’s worse when it’s both of them,” Rent agrees. He retrieves his book from his shoulder bag, and I know he’s dismissing all of us.
I look back once, surprised that their mother isn’t chasing us down the walkway.
“My mother doesn’t realize she drives me to drink,” Hax says dramatically. He swipes one hand across his brow. “I need an ale.”
“No time,” Jilli tells him. “If we’re not staying the night, we should get our supplies and go. We might have a few hours of sunlight if we hurry.”
The shop has a man at the counter and a handful of brass-bots taking things from the shelves and putting others away. We wait our turn as the shopkeeper and his bots finish up with a single woman ahead of us. She looks to be getting food and supplies for a large family, buying items like flour in big bags. The bots load it all onto a wheeled cart, and another one helps the woman steer the cart out of the shop.
“G’day, folks,” the shopkeeper says as he moves something on the counter and a brass-bot carries it away. “What can I do for you?” He looks over our motley group. “Travelers, eh?”
“Yes, we had an unfortunate encounter on the road and lost most of our supplies,” Jilli explains.
“Well, I’ll do my best to help, but people are cleaning me out,” he says. “I’m out of some of the basics. The last customer, she just bought the last of my flour.”
“Well, I don’t think we’ll be baking anything.” With that, Jilli sets down a list and begins to haggle. The shopkeeper doesn’t budge much, being as low supplied as he claims he is.
Jilli’s none too happy when we leave. “No lembka. No eggs. Not a speck of fruit, dried or otherwise.”
“People are scared of the erebus and not knowing when they might attack,” Blaize says. “Fear and uncertainty make humans panicky.”
I can’t argue with that, though I feel like I should.
When we reach the city gate, there’s a dozen city guards waiting there.
“The gates are closed,” the lead guard tells us. “Turn around and go back into the city.”
“First you won’t let us in, and now you won’t let us out?” Hax asks.
“The erebus could be anywhere. We’re not taking any chances.” The lead guard keeps one hand on his sword hilt, but none of them have drawn yet.
Rent looks like he’s absorbed in his book, but I can see his lips moving behind it. A white glow surrounds all of us. My shoulders begin to itch, and as I reach back, something rips through the fabric of my shirt. Two long, white feathered wings grow out of my back. I’m not sure whether to be amazed or horrified.
“Rise!” Rent shouts, and I realize the others have sprouted spontaneous wings as well, even Gnuf. The poor ummuth is confused, and his wings flap and struggle to lift him off the ground. He brays in distress, but Jilli stays with him, fighting to steer her own wings.
The wings are large, and though I don’t know how to fly, I succeed in getting them to flap. They easily lift me off the ground. We all become airborne and flap right over the heads of the city guards. I continue to rise, going straight up, because I don’t know what I’m doing!
The city guard can only watch, surprised into inaction until we’re too high to grab or swing their weapons at.
“Don’t worry about the gate. We’ll let ourselves out,” Hax calls down to them.
The fog hanging over the city stings my nose. It smells like dirty burnt oil. We rise through it before reaching the top of the wall. A few surprised guards watch us from the top of the wall. They follow with their eyes as we fly over and back down the other side.
I’m happy to touch the ground again. As soon as I do, the wings fade, and Rent collapses.
~ * ~
If you’d like to continue this journey, enter your email below to receive future posts directly to your inbox.
If you enjoyed this post, please share it.