Page 154 of Anathema
“Big ogre-like beasts. Fortunately, they stick to the southern part of the continent. Though, they have been known to raid a village, or two.”
“So, if I don’t smell like oranges, what do I smell like?”
She shrugged. “Pig shit.”
Eyes bulging, I sniffed myself again. “Are you serious?”
“Trust me, it’s better. One more detail before we head out.” She raised her hand, placing her palm against my face, and a radiant heat warmed my cheeks. Hotter.
“Ouch!” I backed away, palpating my face to make sure there were no raw burn marks left behind. Except, my nose didn’t feel like my nose. It was bigger, rounder and rougher. My face also had a rough texture, and when I lifted a lock of my hair, it was no longer black, but gray. Gasping, I looked back at her, as lowering her palm from her face revealed an entirely different person–a woman with dark brown hair coiffed at the top of her head, and hazel eyes. Her nose was thinner, her face gaunter than before. The sight of her was so ridiculously not Rykaia, that I blurted a laugh.
She laughed, too.
Both of us broke into hysterical laughter, pointing at each other.
“What did you do?” I asked, falling into another laughing spell.
“I can’t … I’m laughing … too hard!” Her response had me gasping for breath between obnoxious bouts of laughter, and I fell back against the bed.
Which made us laugh more.
The two of us must’ve looked and sounded absolutely juvenile.
But it felt good to laugh.
At the distant sound of approaching steps and Dolion’s voice prattling on, Rykaia yanked me into the glowing seam with her, and in the next breath, we were standing in an alley on wet cobblestones, with the overpowering scent of sewage clogging my foreign nose.
“Do not tell my brother that I know how to do this. He will have my head and likely my hands.”
I glanced around at the tall, stone buildings at either side of us, and above them, the gloomy dusk sky that promised darkness soon. “Where are we?” I asked, my voice sketched in awe.
“Costelwick. The main street.” She gave me a tug. “Come. It smells awful in this alley.”
“Is it the alley, or the scent of pig shit?” I asked, unamused.
“Bit of both.” She pressed her lips together, clearly trying to stifle a laugh.
We exited the narrow passage onto a bustling road, with sleek, black, horse-drawn carriages embellished with beautiful black filigree design and far fancier than those in Foxglove. Women, men, and children of all shapes, skin tones and ages filled the busy sidewalks. Some had long, pointed ears, others rounded. Some wore cloaks and long dresses, others wore chiffon pants and corset tops, as if the cold didn’t bother them.
In the crowd, I spied Elvynira, though some had ghostly white skin, and others blue.
Carts lined the road, overflowing with fruits, vegetable and flowers.
Stone bridges crossed over foggy canals, lit by flickering torches that dotted the thick mist. In the far distance overlooking the city stood a magnificent castle with a dozen pointed spires and towers.
“It’s so beautiful,” I said, drinking in as many details as my eyes could capture.
“If you think that’s beautiful, you should see Wyntertide.” She jerked her head for me to follow, and led the way down the cobblestones to a stretch of small shops. “It’s where my mother grew up, in the lower half of Vespyria. A stunning snowy village with mountains, crystal forests, and delightful califonsz.”
“Califonsz?”
“Little aquifers in the snow that sit over top of active veins, hundreds of feet below the surface. Zevander and I used to love playing in them when we were young.”
“I somehow can’t imagine your brother as a carefree child.”
“I don’t think he’s ever been entirely carefree. Just less stern. But let’s not speak of him anymore. I’m angry at him.”
Leaning against the edge of a building two young children sat–a boy, and a girl who looked slightly younger than him–dressed in threadbare clothes, faces covered in grime. Their long, skinny arms hugged their chests as they crouched, shivering. A tin cup on the ground in front of them held a single coin. Homeless. By the looks of their pale, thin bodies, they hadn’t eaten in a while, and I wished I had some bread, or broth, to offer.