Page 7 of Avalon Tower
“No!” I grab her fist before she can yank it off. “The streets are patrolled by Fey soldiers today. You’ll get us both in trouble. The Fey will be here in seconds if you use that. Listen, I have a better idea.”
She releases her crystal. “What?”
“People here are used to tourist groups,” I say. “The south coast has lots of visitors who come from all over the world to see the veil. Some of them dress like Fey. We’ll pretend to be a tour group, and I’ll be your guide, okay? That’s what I was doing before, acting as if I were your tour guide. It’ll explain why you’re all grouped together and why you’re dressed like this.”
She nods. “Okay.”
“Good. But you don’t quite look right.” I scan the group again. Twelve of them. Some of them don’t look Fey, but others are obviously so. I point to a man whose ears are more noticeably pointy. “Put on that woman’s hat. We need to hide those ears. And you, miss? Hide that pendant. It’s clearly Fey. Anyone with long hair, use it to cover your ears.” I had to make them seem human.
The group quickly follows my instructions. They seem reassured by my presence, which sends a pang of guilt twisting through my chest. They have no idea how badly I’m out of my depth.
But I’m deep in this now, so I plaster on a smile and march forward.
On the beach, tourists are sitting out with picnics and under umbrellas. The light radiates off the sea, and the marine wind toys with my sundress. The sand’s heat warms my soles through my sandals.
I settle into my role as a tour guide, projecting my voice and speaking in French. “If you all follow me, ladies and gentlemen, down this way. Back in the year of the invasion, a number of people fled the Fey realm. Luckily for us, these days, there’s peace between us and our Fey neighbors. The local police work in tandem with the veil guards to maintain law and order, and to keep the status quo intact.” We stand out on the beach, and I lead them toward the town’s streets, where other tourist groups usually roam.
The group follows me obediently across the sand. Some of them still look frightened, but others look curiously around them.
“Any idea of where you have to go at the docks?” I ask Aleina in a low voice.
“I think just northeast of here.”
I swallow hard. That would be the dock directly next to the veil. “Okay, we’ll have to go up that street. I think.”
“You think? You don’t know?”
“I don’t live here. I arrived this week.”
Aleina mutters an unfamiliar word in the Fey language. It doesn’t sound very nice.
“Over here, ladies and gentlemen,” I holler. I didn’t realize how difficult it was to be a tour guide. Talking loudly while marching, constantly turning around to address the group. My asthma is starting to act up, my breath coming in wheezes. “That statue over there commemorates the French peace treaty with the Fey. Over a hundred thousand humans and Fey died when the Fey army first appeared in our world. King Auberon ripped through the magical barrier between the Fey realm and ours, shocking us all with the existence of mythical beasts and powerful magic, as I’m sure you remember. The Fey magic destroyed the advanced technology of the French military. The human army was defenseless against magic, and the Fey quickly took over the north of France and the Channel Islands. To save part of the south, the French resorted to old-fashioned cannons that used a scattershot of iron nails. Iron saved the south, thanks to the Fey aversion to iron.”
The demi-Fey aren’t even acting as if they’re listening to me anymore. All of them are looking up toward wisps of fog coiling off the eastern veil. I follow their eyes, and my stomach plunges.
Two large red beasts swoop through the sky high above the town, wings flapping slowly. Gods save me. Dragons.
I’d seen one, three days ago, a tiny speck in the distance. These two are much closer, flying just above the town, their scales glimmering in the sunlight. Their heads pivot as they search the earth.
My gut tells me that they’re looking for these very fugitives, and they could spot them from above, a group of magical beings. They say dragons can smell fear from far away…
I try to slow my breathing.
If the dragons spot the demi-Fey, it’ll be over for them. They’ll simply dive and scorch them all, turning them into living torches. It’s what they did during the war. The smart thing for me to do would be to bolt, to put as much distance between me and this group of demi-Fey as I can.
I look at them huddled, eyes wide and locked on the dragons. The little boy with dirt on his cheek clutches one of the women’s legs, and she strokes his shaggy blond hair absentmindedly.
Shit. I can’t leave them. My heart thunders.
With a racing heart, I glance around. On the beach, people are sitting up and pointing at the sky. Some are smiling, marveling at the beauty of the dragons. Drinking champagne. After all, the dragons aren’t after them.
That means my tour group shouldn’t look scared, either. They should look relaxed but excited, getting a glimpse of not one but two dragons. Real tourists would delight at the chance to tell their friends about this back home.
“We are incredibly lucky!” I call out gleefully. “Ladies and gentlemen, in the sky, you can see two red dragons. Those majestic beasts work with the Fey to keep our borders secure. Everyone, wave at the dragons to thank them for keeping the border safe!”
I begin to wave enthusiastically, a deranged grin plastered on my face, smiling as if my life depends on it. Which it does.
This is my M.O.: act like everything is fine, blast people with positivity, and hope for the best.