Vanth gred all around. Blood trickled down his forehead again—apparently he had a habit of smming it on people’s faces. Guess it’s a good trick if you’re tall and your skull is tougher than cobblestones. With the stench of miasma around him, he could’ve been mistaken by something that’d crawled out of the Underworld. The power was cut off to the foyer’s light globes so that the only lighting came off from outside, a rectangle of sickly grey that fell right on Vanth and left all the guards and greensuits in the shadows.
Cassel’s troops weren’t in a rush to keep up the fight, understandably. So Vanth turned to me. He almost came closer, but held himself back at the st moment. Probably heard my wheezing breath and realized it wasn’t wise to expose me to that cloud of miasma. He looked around again, searching for someone who could help me.
The elevator doors opened; if I could, I would’ve flinched.
Moreira stumbled out, dashing to the front doors without stopping to look around. “Run!”
Oh, yeah. Tipilej Awki was free. Vanth’s arrival had distracted me, and I guess everybody else too, but you could still feel it coming. Soon you wouldn’t have a choice: Tipilej Awki wasn’t as close as Vanth, but it was much bigger and honestly, much scarier than him.
Vanth leaned over me this time, not too close, but close enough to prevent the stampeding guards and greensuits from stomping over me. He’d also grabbed Moreira by the back of his shirt colr, though the secretary squealed and tried to free himself.
Vanth held his head from the back and pointed it at me. “Do you have any healing spells?”
If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he didn’t sound much different from usual, just tired. But I could hear just the barest hint of a tremor in his voice.
Moreira stood limp like a kitten grabbed by the neck. “No.”
If he said anything else, an incoming motorcycle drowned it out. Lying immobile, I could feel the ground vibrating uncomfortably as the vehicle entered the foyer and was soon thrown away. Its driver bounded to me.
“Your Excellency!” Valentino crouched by my side, but looked at Vanth. “Is this the backsh from forcing that spell or something else?”
Vanth turned to Moreira.
“Uh, I don’t know,” he said. “Oh, wait! Yes, he just used a dozen spells so I could reach the elevator.”
With a sigh, Vanth let Moreira go.
Moreira slunk away, but not before giving me a concerned look. “Please don’t stay long!”
Valentino rested a warm hand on my sweaty forehead and cracked a spell bead open with the other. Of course a Sabrewing would carry some healing spells. He wasn’t anywhere near as good as Grandma Cielo, but my injured muscles already wanted to heal, and welcomed the magical boost he gave them. The spell ran through my veins like a spring breeze, tickling me everywhere from my scalp to the soles of my feet. I breathed as deeply as I could, not caring that the air still tasted of damp rot.
Vanth had turned away, as if whatever happened to me didn’t concern him anymore. That didn’t fool me. He was facing the elevator, and I wondered for a single moment if he expected Tipilej Awki to come out of it. As you can see, my brain had been affected by the recent events.
I tried to stand up, but my legs might’ve been made of uncooked dough. Valentino helped me to my feet. Vanth was wrapping his hankie around his hair, as if he was about to cook.
“What are you doing?” I asked. My voice went out at the end.
“You can’t face a god with an uncovered head. It’s unseemly.”
I really wanted to yell at him not to try something that was going to get him killed, and to shove his unseemly all the way up, and besides these people wanted to free Tipilej Awki all along so they might as well handle it, and this had never been a part of the King of the Dying Sun’s duty, but Valentino threw me over his shoulders and carried me out of there.
“Dumbass!” My eyes blurried so that I couldn’t see Vanth’s stupid back, and that was just as well. I know he heard me though.
The outside of the Big Project was almost as gloomy as its inside; an overcast sky on every direction, a chilly wind buffeting us, and the rumbling of thunder approaching. Despite this, a crowd had filled the streets in every direction. I wouldn’t be surprised if it turned out the entire city had gathered there, holding their breaths.
Valentino set me down on top of the steps, but didn’t let go of my shoulders. It looked like he only wanted to prevent me from falling on my face and I’m sure that was a part of it, but also don’t doubt he wanted to prevent me from bolting out inside. Joke’s on him: my legs still felt barely capable of supporting my weight, never mind allowing me to run.
As I caught my breath, I took a good look around. The remainders of Cassel’s forces had been contained at my right. Some of them were being tended at by a squad of healers—the same healers from the abandoned fabric, if I wasn’t mistaken—others sat out of the way without making any fuss. Looked like nobody tried to restrain them.
Though, if the guards wanted to go anywhere, they’d have to get through the sea of people that’d risen all around us. The streets were packed with people, so that you’d have a hard time driving a bicycle, and a carriage would get stuck without giving a single step. And they all seemed to converge on the Big Project. Waiting.
They made very little noise, considering the immensity of the crowd. Barely more than a murmur. It unnerved me, so I turned back to the guards. At least I understood guards.
Among the ones being healed first was a middle-aged man with spotty stubble, sitting rigidly as his right eye was examined. Something looked strangely familiar about him, though I’d never seen him before. Wait, that was the greensuit I’d half-blinded! He still wore the lower half of his rubber suit. How weird, to see human beings inside there.
I also found Delgado—looked like some of his fellow guards had carried him out, and he looked pretty numb but unquestionably alive, holding on to a tearful young woman in a white-and-gold uniform.
“Looks like we can’t leave,” Valentino said.
“Well, we can’t leave His Illustrious Highness behind either.”
“I’m sorry, Your Excellency, but His Illustrious Highness would consider your own safety to be paramount and I agree with him.” He spoke so low I could barely hear him over the wind. “We don’t know if this crowd will turn in on Your Excellency.”
“Well, we don’t know if they’ll follow us to our hotel room or anywhere else. We might as well stay here.”
That wasn’t much of an argument. The crowd was peaceful enough—so far—but nothing could convince me to lower my guard. Way, way more people had gathered there than the ones who’d joined the strike. Some wore the uniforms of carriage drivers, others of cooks or hotel clerks or traffic guards—others even looked like tourists. It made me feel pretty disgusted, knowing they’d only shown their faces after they knew Cassel’s guards had been defeated. And now they stood there, waiting.
Waiting for the world to change.
Then you’re gonna wait a long long time, Grandma Alba’s wry voice said in my mind.
But then—
—maybe everybody had already waited a long long time.
“I know what I look like, you know,” someone said at my left. It was Moreira, sitting on the first step. He really did look like a mess, though to be fair, that could be fixed. And he’d lost his suit jacket somewhere—oh, he’d used it as a pillow for Delgado. Guess it was truly lost. Well, better his jacket than mine. Mine was good quality. “Even so, I married the most wonderful, beautiful wife in the world. Why did I have to go work for Cassel? I should’ve stayed with my wife.”
I reached down and patted his shoulder. He lifted a hand and patted mine without looking up.
The ground shook with a hollow rumble, and the thunder above answered it.
“That’s scary.” Moreira shivered. Without a strong sun to hold it back, the wind was pretty unpleasant. I stepped in front of him, to block it. “Oh, thank you.”
Seeing how Moreira was happy with me, I should take this chance to ask questions. “Didn’t you know this was gonna happen?”
“Well, yes. But I didn’t expect to be so close. Reality’s scarier than whatever you imagine.”
“But shouldn’t the other Snakes be here? Your sister told me they’d come to the Big Project.” To be fair, she hadn’t done that. I’d arrived to that conclusion on my own. If I pretended she was the one who’d done it, though, Moreira could be fooled into telling me the truth.
“We don’t call ourselves Rainbow Snakes, you know. Or anything at all.”
I could’ve shaken him, but that wouldn’t have helped. He wasn’t even fixating on the wrong detail on purpose.
A raindrop hit my ear. The crowd didn’t care about the incoming storm—but then, they didn’t seem to care about the incoming Tipilej Awki either. Someone was even coming closer, moving all the way to the front: a person big enough to open a path through a gathering as packed as this one. Dark skin, flowing locs, really eye-catching. The wind muffled their polite requests for people to make room, but that was the same voice that’d been singing when I met Nina, no doubt.
I nudged Moreira. “I think your wife’s here.”
He looked up. He jumped to his feet. “Sara!”
Moreira’s wife had just reached the front, together with a few others. “Aldo!”
They went to stand together out of the way—not a bad idea, seeing how I’d gotten another raindrop on my nose, and one on the top of my head. Of course I wouldn’t do anything of the sort.
Along with Sara had come Amankay, holding her cane with both hands against the wind, and another woman I couldn’t recognize at first—I thought she was maybe one of the strikers since she wore work clothes, but then I remembered she’d given me that spell to guide me back to the shopping district. Her name was T’ika.
Unfortunately, the skinny asshole was there too, along with a teenage boy who looked like he’d rather be anywhere else. The skinny asshole gred at me—no, over my shoulder, at Valentino. I smiled and waved at him. As expected, he looked away. So easy to rile.
“Good afternoon.” I went to join the Snakes—even if they didn’t call themselves that, I had to call them something. “Evening? Doesn’t matter. It’s Azul Mamani, by the way. Where’s Nina?”
“With Tipilej Awki,” Amankay said.
“So’s Vanth.” I turned to the Big Project, wondering if I was supposed to notice anything.
She cpped a hand on my shoulder. “I’m gd you’re fine. Thanks for looking after my brother.”
“He looked after me, too.”
A chunk of the Big Project’s unfinished dome came down, hitting the front steps. Several people in the crowd shouted with excitement, as if this was some sport to them. Others screeched as if the Big Project was falling right on their heads.
But that didn’t st long, because right then, Tipilej Awki climbed on top of the dome. Brick steamed and burned under its glowing magma cws. Its countless eyes looked into every direction—you could swear one of them was looking right at you. Noticing you. Its tail shed; another chunk of dome fell on the other side. Its long, powerful neck rose; its wide jaws snapped.
I wanted to be scared, but I really wasn’t, at least not for a while. Because that was a wonder. On the most literal sense, a wonder of a kind that hadn’t walked the earth for a long time.
Something else stood close to it—too close, I’d say. A bck form that looked way too small next to Tipilej Awki. So close, the living mountain could simply reach out a cw and crush him like an ant. I wanted to swallow, but my mouth was dry.
He was standing next to a magma creature! And the barriers were down! Vanth should be severely burned, unless he could protect himself with a spell—or unless someone else was helping him.
And there was someone else in there with him. At first, I didn’t realize the other form was a person; it looked like a fme. Until it moved, and it moved like a human.
Tipilej Awki shifted its head from Vanth to Nina, back and forth. Listening, I thought. Its anger still echoed against the wind. Guess it was inevitable: centuries of anger and sorrow. Can a mountain even understand loss?
I managed to stop gazing at Tipilej Awki in silent awe to make sure that, yes, everyone else also seemed to be gazing at Tipilej Awki in silent awe. Valentino too.
This was my chance!
I ran up the steps as fast as my legs would carry me—which, it turned out, wasn’t too bad! Despite being awfully tired and hungry and still in the process of recovering from that spell backsh, I’d found a new burst of energy inside me. Unfortunately for him, Valentino had done a better job of healing me than I expected.
The storm wind pushed ever harder at my back, as if urging me on. And most importantly, the distraction did work: I reached the inside of the Big Project without Valentino catching up. Tipilej Awki had burned a hole on the ground, but I had an open path to the elevator, still gaping in the back.
The moment after I dashed into it, though, Valentino followed me.
He sighed. “What am I going to do with Your Excellency?”
“Right now,” I said sweetly, “you should help me move the elevator up. Moreira—that guy who lost his jacket—cut the power. The aeolipile in here should still work with a spell, I think. But I really shouldn’t do it.”
I suspect Valentino had a few things he wanted to tell me, but instead, he quietly set a hand on the elevator’s aeolipile and we went up. The door didn’t even close. I stumbled and almost fell, but I managed to lean on the back wall.
“Please swear you’ll do your best to stay out of danger, Your Excellency. Or I’ll have to disregard your decisions for your own safety.”
I chewed my lower lip. You should of course avoid swearing real oaths as much as possible, but this one was fair. There was another wrinkle, though: what power do you call upon to enforce your oath? Most people will swear by the Imperium and think nothing of it. Just thinking of it made me sick, though. Especially in this pce. Especially with a mountain god walking among us after so long, and so close to the pce where the Imperium had killed another mountain god.
“Very well. I swear on Tipilej Awki I’ll do my best to avoid Tipilej Awki or anything else to harm me until we reach Vorsa. How’s that?”
Valentino chuckled. He sounded tired, but still somewhat amused. “It’ll do.”
The elevator stopped. I was going to leave, but Valentino walked in front of me. I did get to follow close behind, so I wasn’t compining.
broccolifloret