Chapter Twelve #3
“Come inside,” Ma said, looping her arm through Marin’s.
“You’ll want to get dressed for the festival.
I’ve washed your festival dress, in case you wanted to wear it.
As for Dax, the neighbors have a son about his size.
I’ll see if they have a spare outfit.” Together, they walked up to the house, the scent of peach pie cooling in the window growing stronger with each step.
“The wax myrtle … we could tie ribbons around his branches. Would he like that?”
“He’d love it,” Marin said. “That all sounds great. Thanks, Ma.”
“It’s good that you came back,” Ma said, squeezing her hand. “But it’s even better that you’ve decided not to be alone.”
“Being alone isn’t so terrible,” Marin said. “I had a lot of time to think. And heal.”
“But did you? Heal?”
“Sure,” Marin said. She realized as she said it that that didn’t sound incredibly convincing. “Yes. I’m fine. Stop looking at me like you don’t believe me.”
“I’m just glad you have a crew now, that’s all.”
Marin thought of a half-dozen different replies to that and settled on, “Me too.”
As soon as the moon reached the top of the dormant volcano, that’s when the flicks could be heard from all around the island: rattle, rattle, rattle.
“Wait for it,” Marin whispered to Dax and Ree. Both of them were outside on her parents’ porch. She’d exited after them and stood behind them both, looking toward the village with the volcano behind it.
Ree bounced on his root ball. “Wait for what?”
“The cats.” She nodded toward the treetops, heavy with cats.
All across the island, the sound of the flicks startled the cats from their perches—from the rooftops and the treetops and wherever they loafed. They took to the sky, wheeling and swooping above the island, with the full moon and the array of stars behind them as their backdrop.
“Now it’s the End-of-Harvest Festival,” Marin said with satisfaction.
Gawking at the cat-filled sky, Dax said, “That’s quite a sight.”
“One of my favorites.”
“Do you think Stowy is with them?” he asked.
“If he’s not, he’ll regret it,” Marin said.
“When the flicks stop rattling, that’s the signal for the cats to land in the town square—there’s a feast already laid out for them, every fish you can imagine prepared every way a cat likes it.
And yes, before you ask, there are cooks who spend the entire year practicing new recipes and testing them out on whatever cat wants an extra dinner.
The cats eat first, and then the people. It’s tradition.”
“So this is more of a cat festival than a harvest festival.” He glanced over his shoulder at her, smiling to show he wasn’t being judgmental, and then she saw his eyes widen.
She’d changed into the dress her parents had gifted her—blue, which showed off her silver skin, with crisscrossed fabric beneath a gauzy layer that billowed around her.
It was a look-what-you-missed-asshole kind of dress, and she’d thought it was low-key hilarious that her parents had purchased it for her, knowing it was possible that she’d see Iovar for the first time since the disaster.
It hadn’t occurred to her that it could also have an effect on Dax.
She’d also done her hair in braids, tied off with her freshly washed favorite silver ribbon, and she’d added silver bracelets from her wrists to her elbows.
Each bracelet had tiny bells on it that would chime when the dancing started. She knew she looked good.
So did he.
While he gawked at her, she used to the opportunity to drink him in.
He was dressed with bells as well, sewn into the sleeves of his shirt and the hems of his pants.
He wore a blue sash that was the same fabric as her dress, which she knew was a deliberate choice by her parents.
The matching fabric marked them as a couple.
She wondered if anyone had explained that to Dax and decided it didn’t matter—he’d already agreed to play the part of her chosen lover, and judging by how pleased her father had looked when the two of them had left the house together, he’d been playing his part convincingly.
“You look beautiful,” Dax said. “It’s undisputed. I am the luckiest man in the Crescent Islands Empire … former empire … to be by your side.”
Okay, that was a bit much. “There’s no one watching us here,” Marin said. “You don’t have to pretend yet. Wait until we get to the town square.”
“I’m not—”
Ree bounded off the porch, his branches ringing. He’d been festooned with ribbons and bells on every branch, each shiny ribbon tied in a perfect bow. He turned in a circle and said, “I look amazing.”
“You absolutely do,” Marin told him. She meant it. “We’re going to make quite an impression on everyone at the End-of-Harvest Festival.” She meant that too.
This is going to be fine.
They’d accompany her parents to the town square, cheer on her pa as he smashed the competition in the pie contest, and then slip away immediately afterward—no harm done and everyone happy. She could do this.