“Sorry, ma’am. Those are the rules. No one goes into the city without a notarized letter of entry, proof of exit, or permission from the Duke’s household.” The man at the gate had the monotonous sound of a man who’d said those same words thousands of times and would really rather people had gotten the message a few hundred ago. “This is for everyone’s safety and security. You know how it is.”

“But surely some exceptions can be made, no?” If Mirabel was angry at him, she showed no hint of it, her question was posed with no small amount of cheerful energy. “How could the poor girl get permission from the Duke if she’s not even allowed in to state her case?”

The man showed no hint of having heard her words beyond his lifeless response. “No exceptions. She can stay in the merchant camp and find someone to enter for her to plead her case if she wants.”

“Truly, no exceptions are made at all? She could save you fine men some work by delivering these letters inside the city, is that not worth something?” Mirabel held a pile of letters out to the man, one that anyone who held it in her place would find rather heavier than expected. He took the letters, glanced at her a moment, then straightened his back and handed the bottom few back.

“No, I’m afraid there are truly no exceptions ma’am.” His voice shifted for the first time in the conversation, pride evident in the tone. “We take our work very seriously. This is the city of Wyrlet, after all. There’s no useless rabble here, this is a city built and filled with people a step above that.”

Mirabel took the letters back, a shadow of a strange expression flickering across her face before her cheerful smile reasserted itself. “Very well then, I understand. Thank you for your time, we’ll just have to find another way then. No hard feelings.”

The man nodded at her. “No hard feelings. The merchant camp is just over that way, I’ll see that these letters are delivered and you’ll be able to contact any stores you wish from there.”

Mirabel nodded back, then turned and briskly walked away. Her smile didn’t disappear until the cover pulled over the back of the wagon wiped it away in an instant as she pushed through it.

“No luck, I'll take it?” Aldo sounded equally concerned and resigned.

“None. Just our luck, to have been heading towards about the only city where the guards are too proud and stupid to accept a gift.” Mirabel’s response was terse, but her voice softened as she turned to Idelle. “I’m sorry, dear, I’m afraid we got your hopes up for nothing. Are you certain you do want to try and enter the city? In truth, I don’t know that it’s a particularly nice one, and there will be a caravan heading back the way we came soon.”

Idelle shook her head vigorously, then paused as she realized the ambiguity in the response. “It’s all right. It doesn’t have to be this city, any big one would be good. I was hoping this one would work, but, well... If it doesn’t, I’ll just have to try and find my way to another.”

The couple exchanged a look and sighed in unison. Mirabel held her hand out and gently squeezed Idelle’s before letting it go. “We understand. We’ll keep seeing if there’s anything else we can do while we get our goods taken care of. In the meantime, why don’t you go look around the camp? It’s a lovely little place, given that they don’t let merchants and so on inside the walls. And the walls themselves are amazing to see, really. There’s few like them that I’ve ever seen.”

Idelle dutifully nodded and squeezed past her to hop down from the back of the wagon. “I’ll do that, then. Thank you again for trying.” 

The woman’s denial that it was any trouble at all barely registered as she glumly walked away from the wagon, eyes fixed on the towering walls of stone rising from among the pine trees.

…

Idelle, legs dangling off the edge of the tallest boulder she could find within sight of Wyrlet’s walls, let out a long huff of air. The mess of warehouses, kitchens, wagons, and tents filled with busy people had been noisy and overwhelming, and she’d felt utterly out of place and overwhelmed by it. Instead, she had let her legs carry her around the other direction to circle around the walls. More than amazing, they looked impassable, enormous blocks of rough rock fused together with a cracked mortar that only ants and the like might be able to crawl through.

There were three entrances, but all three had an enormous gate blocking them and a smaller gatehouse to one side, each with a pair of guards sitting out front wasting time chatting and playing games of dice. She’d thought to maybe go try talking to them, but thought better of it. If the charming Mirabel couldn’t convince them, what hope did she have?

She sighed again. Why was she even so upset about this? Mirabel and Aldo were lovely. It’d be fine to travel with them a while longer until she reached the next city. They hadn’t even pushed her on her background, despite obviously having their suspicions.

Maybe it was just that. It felt like she was taking advantage of them. Lying to them. They thought she was some kind of weak lost child, but what kind of weak child could…

Besides. It just didn’t feel right. She didn’t want to be the kind of person who lived through other people’s charity. And the sooner she could pay them back, the better. She turned to look at the walls again. Maybe there was some way to climb over them? Even from up here, she couldn’t see over the ramparts, but surely they wouldn’t keep guards on every section at night? Yeah, maybe-

“Hey, whatcha looking at?”

Her head snapped around and she was on her feet in an instant. The voice had come from just behind her, whatever it was, she…

She stared at the other girl who was halfway over the other edge of the rock behind her. Her head was tilted quizzically, with straight golden hair hanging in a loose braid, chin resting on a hand that was still slightly grimy with dirt from the climb. A few loose strands framed a face that was fair and slightly freckled, lips pursed in an inscrutable expression of amusement. She pulled herself the rest of the way on top and stood up from her knees, brushing her hands off before looking at Idelle again.

“Well? Whatcha looking at? Or is it ‘What were you looking at’ now?”

“Uhm. You? The wall?” Idelle flushed, realizing how stupid her response sounded. “I mean. Nothing in particular I guess.”

“Pretty impressive to look at three things with two eyes, aren’t you?” The girl’s smile had deepened, she was sure of it.

“What?”

“Me, a wall, and nothing. Three things. Or do you not have two eyes?”

“I don’t really think nothing counts as a thing?” Idelle wondered if it was just her, or if something wasn’t horribly wrong with the pace of this conversation somehow.

Her new conversation partner considered a moment, then shrugged. “I’ve never tried that hard to look at nothing, you might be able to do it. Why were you looking at the wall? You wanna sneak in?”

Idelle almost took a step back, but remembered her precarious position just in time and started to set her foot down in front of her instead. Then she thought about how taking a step forward might seem weirdly aggressive right now, and awkwardly rubbed her foot against her calf like she had an itch before setting it back down.

“Um. I’ve just never seen walls like this before. They’re huge, so I wanted to get a better view. I’m not from around here.” Her excuses sounded forced, even to her.

The other girl raised her eyebrow. “I guessed. If you were, you’d probably be on the other side of the walls, most people our age don’t bother to go out. Or are you younger? I can’t tell.”

She walked closer, scrutinizing Idelle a little more intently as she did so. She was tall, Idelle realized now, almost a full head over her, and with a full, athletic build that made her look closer to her 20s than her delicate features might suggest. She was dressed casually, in clothes that looked durable and well made, and her steps were easy and graceful despite the rough top of the boulder.

“I don’t know. Maybe.” Idelle searched for something to change the topic away from her age. “Why’d you ask if I wanted to sneak in?” Internally, she swore. Was that really the best topic she could come up with to change to?

The other girl gave her a look, then grinned again. “No reason. I’m Cecilia, but my friends call me Cici. What’s your name?”

Idelle stared back at her. She was getting sick of the way the other girl kept changing the conversion around; as if she was trying to keep her mentally off-balance. But two could play at that game. “I’m Idelle. I don’t have any friends.”

“Oh. I’ll call you Idy then. Can I sit next to you?”

Idelle very resolutely kept her face utterly impassive at Cecilia’s response, and instead jerked her head with a motion that could conceivably have been intended to be inviting at the rock next to her. The other girl unhesitantly plopped down next to her, and Idelle awkwardly lowered herself as well a moment later. A small part of her brain was doing everything it could not to scream. What was that supposed to mean?? 

She stared at the wall again. Wasn’t Cecilia going to say anything else? She’d been so talkative up ‘til now. Ugh. She was more and more sure that she was being made fun of. Or something. 

Still, now that she was calming down from her surprise, her thoughts were slowly getting more in order. Was this maybe just Cecilia’s way of making friends? She didn’t seem like she was being truly mean about it, or anything. But why was she out here anyway? Isn’t this a totally weird place to make friends with someone?

“Actually, I lied.” Idelle looked over at Cecilia’s words, only to see that cheeky smirk on her face again.

“About?” She deadpanned.

“Sneaking in.”

Idelle narrowed her eyes. “How so?”

“Oh, isn’t that obvious?” The other girl turned fully towards her, and slowly leaned in closer. Idelle felt her breath tickling her ear as Cecilia lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “I wanted to know if you wanted to sneak in with me.”

RavenTears

***WARNING*** The following author’s note is eminently true, entirely irrelevant and pointless, and rather silly to boot. It also contains naughty language. Read at your own risk. ***WARNING***

Spoiler

I must confess, dear readers and friends, that I was struck with sudden doubt while editing this morning as to whether I had conveyed an appropriate aura of authenticity in my dialogue. Thankfully, some god or other must have sighted my hardship; for he sent two of His angels to relieve my doubts. My encounter with them I relay to you below, to the best degree that my particularly unwrinkled brain can recollect.

 

It was afternoon, and I was biking along the side of the road when a very sweaty individual with the likeness of a white man in his 30s hailed me to query as the location of a Motel 6. I explained that I was unaware of any Motel 6 outside of the one several miles down the road. 

 

He, seemingly bereft of his wings, explained in return that that Motel 6 was “Too fucking far” and he had been walking for hours. When I insinuated that I knew of no other, he politely inquired as to the possibility of me sending a text message to a friend of his. While I was happy to assist, being in no hurry, it soon became apparent that he meant a message on Facebook Messenger - something that we eventually discovered I was seemingly unable to do due to the lack of his particular friend on my own, less glamorous, friend list.

It was then that a SECOND angel arrived, this one equipped like me with a bicycle as well as a truly spectacular long beard and accompanying mustache. My new companion hailed this older (or at least, he had the APPEARANCE of an older) compatriot of his, and their exchange proceeded as follows:

 

Angel the first: “Hey! HEY! Do you know where the Motel 6 is?”

Angel the second: “I don’t think there’s a Motel 6 around here.”

A1: “Yeah there is, there’s one that way?” He gestured vaguely in the direction I had indicated earlier.

A2: “Yeah, like wayyyyy fucking that way. 3 miles or something.”

A1: “Fuuuuck me, man, some girl took my phone. I’ve been walking for hours. Fuck my friend, man. I need to sit down.”

A2: “There’s a Motel 6 way down that way, one over on Hotel Circle, and one over there or something.”

A1: “There isn’t a Motel 6 over there, that’s a Good Nite Inn”

A2: “It was a Good Nite Inn, but Motel 6 bought it. Owns it now.”

A1: “Well I don’t care who fuckin’ owns it, I’m looking for the Motel 6.”

A2: “That’s what I’m saying, it IS a Motel 6 now!”

A1: “It’s not a Motel 6, it’s a fucking Good Nite Inn!”

A2: “I tell you it’s not! I bet you a hundred dollars it says Good Nite Inn out front. ”

A1: “Yeah? You’re on. Do you even HAVE a hundred dollars?”

A2: “Yeah I got a hundred dollars, do YOU have a hundred dollars?”

A1: “Yeah I got a hundred fucking dollars.” It was at this point that he produced a slightly soggy stack of bills nearly an inch thick and presented it to his countryman with such force and intimacy that I feared deeply for the safety of the other’s mustache. But our deuteragonist continued without pause, seemingly ignorant of the desperate threat to his majestic bristles.

A2: “All right then, lets go! I’ll go over with ya right now!”

A1: “Yeah? Lets go then!”

A2: “I’m going!” It was at this point that our protagonist seemed to first notice his new friend’s bicycle.

A1: “Let me on your bike.”

A2: “Ohhhh, not on my bike you’re going!”

A1: “How the fuck am I supposed to go then?”

 

Unfortunately, it seemed that both fellows in their passion must have reverted to their native language, for their discussion continued at such speed and volume as to be entirely incomprehensible to me. Fearing that I might be drawn into heavenly matters far too consequential and heavy for my slender frame, I expressed an unrequited wish for luck to the both of them and hastened on my way down the street; still ignorant as to the identity and indeed the location of the hotel in question but firmly convinced that no matter how offbeat and spontaneous my dialogue was I would be unable to match the rhetoric mastery of these two titans and should worry no further.

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