11. Chapter Eleven
Chapter Eleven
Astrid
I roll my eyes at my sister’s comment, shaking my head at her antics before my gaze lands on Erik. His white shirt is covered by a leather jacket and his jeans hug him just right that I can't take my eyes off of him. He runs his fingers through his blonde hair, pulling it from his face as his warm bronze eyes meet mine, the only thing visible under his green mask. His eyes widen when he gets close enough.
“You look… amazing,” he says breathlessly, his honey gaze roaming over my body.
“Oh hush, let’s go get some food.” Heat blooms across my cheeks, and nervous energy radiates through me. A lot is happening today, and I want to be done with this part already. The Oracle needs to arrive so we can get the hunt over with. I'm ready to get through tonight with my family intact.
“So, you’re for sure taking part in the hunt?” Erik asks as we walk down the temporary streets of the festival. Game booths ring with bells and chimes while the smell of sweet and savory treats mixes in the air from the colorful tents lining the path.
“I can’t back out, it’ll make me look weak,” I admit, tucking flyaway strands of my hair behind my ear as I give a voice to the anxious fluttering in my stomach.
“I’ve taught you everything I know because I want you to be safe. You’ll be okay, I believe in you even if no one else does.” His hands are warm as he rubs them up and down my arms comforting me in a way only he can, and I try to smile beneath my mask. Although, I can't be sure if it completely reaches my eyes. Warmth radiates out from his touch, and I can't help but wonder what his hands would feel like on the rest of my body. I shove the thought out of my mind, I don't even know where it came from. We are friends . I can't get involved now, not when my family has plans to finally leave the city.
When I petitioned the Lumin’s council for my own homestead after completing graduation and required practicum hours, I didn’t think they would make me jump through extra hoops. I should've figured I would have to prove myself more. Being the top of my class at the University wasn't enough, I can’t jeopardize everything I’ve worked for. If I could settle for goals similar to Embla’s, then I would have agreed to marry Erik last year when he proposed. But I would get so bored being stuck at home either alone or with children. I can’t give up, and get married, when the end is finally in sight. Even if we leave, we'll be coming home, and this could be another opportunity for me to prove myself. The council will want to gift me a homestead if I return a hero who found a cure for this illness. If I can put an end to this demon that is ravaging the district, the council would see my value then, they’d have no choice.
“You’re right. You are absolutely right,” I mumble to myself. We stop at one of the food vendors to purchase obu. There’s something comforting about the familiar fried, sweet dough covered in powdered sugar that makes my fingers sticky and reminds me of summer nights. Laughter is in the air, accompanied by the music being played by various musicians lining the path that bleeds into the orchestra of the night. Everything is positioned six feet apart, it’s up to the patrons to uphold the distancing policy imposed on this district. It’s easy to identify people from other districts who are wearing their masks with little complaint.
Astrid, you must get ready. The Oracle will be here soon,” Papa appears at my side startling my heart into my throat, my hand flying to my chest where my locket lies as I notice the darkening sky.
“Where?” Is all I can manage as I try to keep my nervous heart under control.
“There’s a locker tent over by center stage. Locker eight.” He slips a small key into my hand, and I loop it around my wrist. Erik is close on my heels. A platform has been built in front of the mosaic square. A place to differentiate the wealthy from the common. I make a beeline for the white tent next to it.
My hair tickles my back as I rifle through the locker. Papa squeezed all three bags into the small space. I pull out the black leggings along with a black shirt, my gilded sword, and boots. I don't have armor like I'm sure the men participating will, but I'm not going to wear something I'll be easily spotted in. This will be the first and only time I’ll be able to wear the forbidden color.
“Turn around,” I demand, turning to face Erik. If Papa came to find me I don't have time to run to the bathroom or changing rooms. I risk being late, and there's no way I could squeeze through a crowd that will probably ignore the distance policy once the events of the night take off. The dance floor is already a violation.
“You’re just going to change here? There are toilets and changing rooms down the other aisle of tents.” He assesses my face, seeing something there that silences his objection, and he turns to face the entrance of the tent, holding the sides of his jacket open to block anyone’s view.
“We’re all good.” I shove my skirts into the duffel bag, slamming the locker shut before turning back to my companion. “What do you think?” I ask, raising my arms to the side a little before dropping them.
“I think you look the part of a hunter.”
His easy reply calms my nerves as I gather my hair into a high ponytail. I’m scared I'm looking for acceptance I will never get, and it'll put a bigger target on my back while I am out in those woods. Trumpet fanfare slams through the air, and everything halts. Following Erik out of the tent, I find the Oracle’s gyrating, scantily clad priestesses clearing a path for the bright red paladin that follows. Taking up the rear is the cage; the silver bars obstruct any view of the inside. I wonder what fae creature they have captured for us to hunt.
“The fae we hunt are monsters, aren’t they?” I whisper as the ornate party slowly glides past us.
“Of some sort, they’re different every year,” he admits, matching my volume. He’s been coming to the festivals a few years longer than I have. Plus, with his connections in the guard, if anyone knew what we would be hunting tonight, it was him. “And before you ask, no, I don’t know what you will be hunting. This year it has been top secret, only those directly responsible for the hunt know what creature it is until they reveal it.”
Erik’s words cause me to deflate. I was hoping for an advantage over the other hunters. I can’t help but wonder what has got everyone being so secretive. But none of it matters anymore, we will be leaving the city today, and exploring a world I've only heard stories about from Effie. I’m going to walk outside the city walls today, and my breath catches in my throat.
The men carrying the Oracle’s paladin remind me of bears. Their bodies are wide, and the size of their arms can’t be rivaled. I stop at that thought, my mind returning to the foreign vendor I met in the Market District and concede that they may have one rival.
Dancers pour through the tents ahead of them, dressed in flowing white chiffon dresses as they dance like water, flowing through the dance floor and up to the stage. Diamond-shaped cut-outs expose the skin along the acolytes’ sides. The only part of the dresses that cling securely to their bodies is the waist while a white cloth covers their faces under their eyes. The gold coins dangling from the masks jingle and sway as the acolytes move their hips. The Daughters of Malia have arrived.
A deep sultry tune begins, the drums beat steadily as the Daughters stop running through the streets and take up the stage. They continue to gyrate their hips and twirl to the beat, each dancer in time with the other. They create a circle on the stage where oversized men deliver the palanquin. I can’t help wondering where the Oracle found the men that carry her. They’re too large to be Demendian.
The Oracle steps out of the red-curtained palanquin, unable to stand to her full height due to her hunchback. Her long silver hair is tied in a loose bun at the nape of her neck as flyaway bits hang in her face in loose waves. A crowd has gathered in front of the stage and cheers erupt as she turns to the people. Those in attendance stare reverently, pushing against each other to get closer to the Oracle, not bothering to heed the distance policy as she shakes hands with those closest to her. She parades through the gathering crowd, greeting those she knows, congratulating couples she has approved over the years. Every step leads the Oracle closer to me and Erik. She turns to pass; I can feel the relief ready to burst forward. I hold my breath, willing her to keep moving. She comes to a stop mid-step. My heart stops and she turns to face Erik. The Oracle's head tilts as if deciding if she should continue. Please don’t. My mind whispers but she takes a step closer, invading his personal space.
“Don’t love her .” The old crone points a spindly finger at me. “She is a promise of death,” the old woman warns, her voice a low gravely whisper before she moves on, returning to greet others in attendance like nothing happened. I know Erik loves me, but it has never been anything more than platonic. He’s my best friend, and I don’t intend to take a lover, ever. I decided a long time ago that wasn’t something I was interested in. Looking, yes. Touching, no.
“What does that mean?” I turn to him, fear gripping my chest, and his face has gone white with the Oracle’s words. I’ve never taken him up on his offer to be my lover.
“Good thing you refused my proposal last year,” Erik jokes, chuckling weakly, running his fingers through his blond hair—a nervous tic he's always had. It was all he was able to say as the Oracle took the stage, starting her welcome speech. I’m never going to fall in love.
Walking through the crowd, I keep my eyes peeled for Embla to say goodbye and maybe get a word of encouragement. However, she seems to have disappeared, probably just lost in the crowd and excitement of the night. The Oracle takes a deep wheezing breath that echoes through the speakers and over the crowd. After she catches her breath, she starts the same welcome speech she gives each festival. Every season the people hang on to her every word. I don't get it.
“Malia protects our people from those who would harm us, and to strike fear into the hearts of our enemy, we hunt in his name!” the Oracle shouts, her old voice wavering with the effort. She sweeps her arms out in a feeble flourish as the gates to the outside swing open. I turn with the crowd to face the archway that leads to the outside. Sitting in front of the large open arch is the silver cage. One of the Acolytes approaches, pressing something on the cage and the silver slats shift allowing me to see what lies inside.
“How fucking dare you? I am a guest in your city,” a familiar voice screams from the cage, and I can make out chestnut braids and sun-blessed skin. She moves in the cage, flashing her pointed ears. My eyes widen slightly, and disbelief comes out as a quiet gasp.
“No, no, no, no,” I say, my voice drowned out by the rest of the crowd. Fae are creatures, they kill people. They aren’t human, and Effie is human, not fae. I almost call out her name, but to admit to knowing this fae would be suicide. Fae are hulking creatures who don’t know anything other than consuming. I know Effie and I've known her for years. The determination I was holding in my chest dissolves completely. I search the crowd that has forgotten about the illness as they press against each other and spot Embla. A large man has his arms wrapped around her waist. At least one of us found what we were looking for tonight. Em waves, and I send her a small wave back, hating the attention it draws. Guards disperse through the crowd spreading out the people that press against each other so they once again are following the Health institutes policy. Everyone except my sister and her mystery man.
Papa has taken to the stage at this point, reciting prayers and verses from the Muren, all of which I tune out as I try to figure out how I'm going to get Effie out of this.
“Those participating in the hunt are the strongest of us. They will hunt down this fae and protect us for another season.”
The crowd cheers, drowning out anything else Papa says. The crowd dies down before he starts again, “Those participating are—” his voice grows louder. “Prince Roantoff of Erothea.” The foreign royalty visiting for the festival. I’m surprised when the large man with dark hair, and bushy beard unwraps his arms from around Embla. He steps into the center of the stage, his arm raised in a wave. The women who’ve always wanted to marry a prince cheer, fanatical shrieks pierce through the air when he mimics blowing kisses blindly through his mask. They only quiet when he moves to mount one of the horses positioned in front of the gate.
“Representing the noble house of the Farm District, Astrid Leifsdottir,” Papa calls. I can hear the pride in his voice along with a few gasps from the onlookers as I wave from where I stand before bounding to mount my own horse. I do my best not to physically shy away from the spotlight as I wave one more time. There are some claps, but the loudest cheers come from my sister. Can’t she see who is in the cage? She’s met Effie a couple of times in the past. Embla continues as if nothing is wrong as panic rises within me at the realization that if I go through with the hunt, I'll have to kill someone I care about. Now they want my humanity, and it's asking too much. Demendia has taken enough from me, and I am tired of always losing. I’m not going to let Effie die.
The acolyte slinks closer to the cage, inserting her key into the lock, and the crowd is silent. I can hear someone’s feet shuffle in the grass. In one sudden shove, the front bars of the cage slide over the top of the metal box. Effie stands straight, facing the crowd, her face warped into a snarl as she bares her teeth.
“You’re wasting time, Fae,” the acolyte hisses and Effie turns her back to us before taking off. She flees into the woods, disappearing among the dimly lit branches.
My heart races in my chest. This isn't what was supposed to happen. If this is true, how could she not tell me she is fae? She could trust me, and I could've helped keep her identity hidden. Fear for my friend and what she may encounter alone throbs through me along with a tinge of anger. Seconds sluggishly tick by until the horn finally sings. Effie’s head start is over and everyone on horseback takes off through the archway.
Anxiety buzzes all around me as I approach the open arch. For a fleeting moment, I wonder if I’ll burst into flames when I cross through. Within seconds, I’m taking a deep breath of open air for the first time in my life. A sense of freedom spreads through me as I breathe in, smelling the moist soil, and grass, it smells fresh unlike Demendia’s musk. The tree canopy is high above my head as they sway in the wind. The other hunters hope to bring glory and honor to their house, but this freedom, this moment under the unbroken sky, is what I have been longing for my entire life. The other participants will go separate ways, at least that’s what Erik said when he participated last year. He said they never trust each other enough to work together.
Once the others have disappeared into the trees, I dismount my horse. My eyes never leave the sky. Unbroken and vast. I take another deep breath, inhaling freedom. The sun sets over the trees, streaking pink and purple across the sky, reminding me of Embla’s paintings. I close my eyes and breathe in one more time before squatting to look at the ground. It’s not hard for me to find the familiar tracks in the soil, tracking her was how she taught me to track in the first place. I follow her trail, hoping to find her before anyone else.