4.8 – City Pageantry
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Aliyah

Afterwards, they made straight for the armoured building. Faeries and witches swarmed over the fallen, distant carcass, forming loose chains back to Hive and city alike. Most of them carried packages of some sort, though a few clusters of witches hauled bundles of metres-long quills between them.

Kionah marched into the midst of resting faeries—three of them, leaning against a stack of crates and bundles. A canopy of cloth had been propped on stilts to cover the whole thing, a little like the shade sails used by Weathermancers back in Shadowsong. It swayed in the soft, hot breeze. The faeries in question wore no armour or clothing save for a few bandages. One of them had a poultice strapped to her head. To Aliyah’s surprise, Kionah didn’t ask for Luxon at all. Instead, she mentioned Lieutenants by name: Hua and Qilin.

“Got favours from Cathay, have you?” one of the group drawled, rubbing at the poultice on her head.

Her iridescent companion gave her a sharp prod with his tail. “Be courteous, now. To our friends and esteemed wanderers both.”

The first faery made a rippling movement with her wings, almost the equivalent of a shrug. “I saw Lieutenant Qilin up there a little while back.” She indicated the building with a flick of her feathered tail.

Kionah looked in the direction of its doorways. People streamed in and out in a colourful tide. “Spectacle’s not over yet?”

“Not yet,” the third faery agreed, throwing back a gulp of potion as orange as he was. “It was…five of your silver tokens to enter, if I recall correctly.”

Aliyah frowned. Was it just her, or did that sound like a request for bribery? Perhaps faeries were even more similar to humans than she’d thought.

Kionah seemed unfazed. “I’ll give you three now, if one of you can fetch her for me. Tell her we’re friends of Luxon’s.”

“Three for me to fetch a Lieutenant when it costs five to even search yourself?” the feathery faery asked. “Do I look like a courier to you?”

“You used to be one,” the orange one broke in. “And what’s this about a ‘Luxon’? The name seems familiar—”

Feathery Faery cut him off with a chirring sound of protest. “Bah. We don’t need their tokens. I’m hungry.”

“Would you prefer a handful of meat buns outright?” Kionah asked. Aliyah had little doubt as to how she would obtain them.

“No,” the feathery one said, tossing her head. “They never use fresh meat. Think I tasted old rat in one, once.”

“No indeed.” The iridescent one made a show of sniffing the air. “But it’s been a turn of the watchglass.” He nodded to the watchglass in question, atop a crate by Feathery’s side. “I have a feeling the pastry-cart’s on his way back. Silver tokens, you said? I do believe it is one silver token for one peach pie…”

“You’ll want a coin right quick to get a pie,” Kionah said, fishing three from her pocket. “They sell out fast.”

The faeries looked among themselves consideringly. A flurry of clicking speech broke out, spines twitched and tails lashed in fast-flowing gestures. The orange one’s wings even changed colour. It went on for a minute, then halted as abruptly as it had started.

“Alright,” the iridescent faery spoke up, striding forwards. “Vega and I will search. Sargas will stay to guard. But we request you, ah, what is the word—meanwhile, you must obtain the pies from the pastry-cart for us. Before they are all gone.”

“I can do that,” Kionah said quickly.

“Two peach pies and one apple pie,” the iridescent faery continued. “The apple pie is mine. Don’t allow Sargas to nibble on more than his share while we are gone.”

Sargas, the orange faery, made an indignant clicking sound. “You’re far more of a pest than I am, Caelum. Need I remind you of the time with the jellied fishes?” He turned to Kionah. “They set the pastry-cart on the eastern end of the building, next to the doors. There will be a line. Buy from the one with red berries painted on its sign, not the one with red blossoms.”

“Berries, not blossoms. Got it.”

The two faeries took to the air, winging up to the top of the armoured building. Sargas stayed where he was, slumping back against a stack of crates.

“I’ll be off,” Kionah said, setting her baskets at Aliyah’s feet. “Watch these for me?”

“Alright.”

Sargas gave a whistling snort as they watched her depart. “Why, now our companions have abandoned us to the joys of waiting. How magnificent.”

“I don’t mind,” Aliyah said cautiously. “Um. You’re from the Hive up there, right?” She tilted her chin the way of the horizon, where figures busied themselves with taking the spawn apart.

“Yes,” Sargas said, flicking his tail. “I’m a scout. I daresay I would’ve been the one to sight that thing, if only they’d assigned me on south patrol.” His voice whirred with faery resonance, but the put-out tone was recognisable; she’d heard it plenty during her time as a maidservant.

“Sorry to hear it,” she ventured. “So, about your Hive—I’ve seen Lieutenants about. Do they investigate…wrongdoings?”

“Pah. Officially? Not human ones. But since your friend ‘Luxon’—ah. I remember now.” He clicked his teeth together. “Lavender-verbena. One of the well-to-do independents. If you and your friend have connections, then perhaps someone could be persuaded to help if it’s a little matter. Or a very big one.”

“So, if some schismatists have abducted a human?”

He turned his gaze onto her, tilting his head to one side. “Really? That sounds bad. Seems like a better matter for the City Watch, though. Ask Qilin if they find her, but that’s my guess.”

Luxon had guessed as much, too. But wouldn’t City Watch be busy enough, with all the pickpockets and gunrunners and criminal hideouts bustling beneath their very feet? Aliyah sighed and sat down by Kionah’s baskets to wait for her return.

Caelum and Vega made it back first, with Lieutenant Qilin in tow. Behind them was an unfamiliar faery, shorter than Qilin and coloured pale green. She wore a matching Lieutenants’ tunic, though with a smaller crest.

“Hello,” Qilin said, eyes alighting on Aliyah. She extended her hand, and Aliyah shook it awkwardly. “I remember you—the one with the unfortunate enchantment-mark. What might I call you?”

Sargas had retreated to sit atop a barrel. Vega and Caelum had their heads bent in conversation some distance away, leaving her with Qilin and the green faery.

“Aliyah,” she said. “Aliyah Scionsong. Kionah—that’s my friend, she was there when we met you—she was here, but she’ll be back soon. We came to ask about Luxon and some other things.”

“Luxon is quite busy in her role, but she performed admirably. She’ll return to her abode soon enough. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s heading there now.” Qilin’s gaze drifted to the horizon. Great chunks had been carved out of the spawn-creature, leaving enormous ribs jutting skywards.

“You sent her to fight?” Somehow, the mental pictures of Luxon and fighting didn’t seem to meld. The best she could picture was a sequence of dancelike kick-twirls, accented with ridiculous hats and rainbows of brocade.

“She is aiding in a different capacity,” Qilin said dryly. “What was the other question?”

“Schismatists have abducted someone,” she stated, far more confidently than she felt. “A human, that is. Luxon told us we should report to your Hive.”

“Oh?” Qilin’s green companion broke in. “I say! That’s something. We haven’t heard of that before.”

“Right, well—they sent a ransom note, sort of. I have it in my luggage…” She trailed off. “It’s locked in Luxon’s house. I can show you, it said—”

Qilin nodded. “I believe you. Some schismastists being what they are, there’s a first for everything. Still, are you sure you were attacked without provocation?”

She thought back to their first encounter, stomach sinking. “I didn’t…it’s complicated. I’m not from Glister. There was some sort of schismatist camp, on my way here, and I think they didn’t want to be found? But I saw them, so that’s why I have this.” She showed them her tracker-mark, and Qilin tilted her head in recognition.

“Have you tried searching for your abducted friend at their camp?” the green faery piped up.

“That was miles away…” Aliyah trailed off. She’d thought they were keeping him in Glister. Just how fast could faeries fly? Surely not at a rate that would allow for easy travel between here and there…?

“So? Just go back and—” the green faery started.

“Hush, Cygnus,” Qilin said gently. “I suppose you’re up against numbers?” At Aliyah’s nod, she continued. “Unfortunately, our Hive’s busy at the moment. There’s been trouble with…certain matters. It’s why we needed Luxon’s help in the first place. We can’t afford to pour so many resources into tracking down some schismatists, even if you are concerned for your associate. Understandably so.”

Cygnus made a chirping sound of agreement. “We deal more with spawn, like that one over there.” She pointed over her shoulder, her tail mirroring the movement. “Big Behemoths, every…handful of years? Cleanup. There’s certainly a need to keep the worse schismatists from causing trouble, but I’m not sure we could help you much.”

“We will do what we can,” Qilin countered calmly. “Schismatists are not exiles, but it’s concerning to see them grow so bold. I’ll see if I can spare a patrol. Whereabouts was this camp you found?”

“I’m not sure. Underground, in tunnels. There was a map. Kionah has it. It’s, um, also inside Luxon’s house.”

Qilin blinked. “Tunnels? Why, are you from the desert? That is technically outside of our territory.”

“The place of many deaths,” Cygnus broke in. “That could change things.”

“The veiled kingdom,” Qilin corrected. “I believe the human name is ‘shadow-songed’? If this kingdom is close to the campsite in question, I don’t think my superiors would authorise a patrol.”

“Shadowsong isn’t inside the tunnels,” Aliyah said, bewildered. She remembered the narrow passage they’d crawled through, metres and metres of claustrophobic stone. “I promise there aren’t any Magicians in there. We were escaping. Days away, at that point.”

The faeries had been at the academy a handful of hours ago. Surely this meant they were based in Glister. In turn, that meant a higher likelihood of Zahir being imprisoned nearby. But it wasn’t costing her much to ask, and to rule out the possibility.

“We’ll take that into consideration,” Qilin said. “I’ll drop by Luxon’s for a look at the map once you’re all back together. The note, too. I’m not a General, but scent could yield a clue.” She sounded doubtful about the last part, but it was something.

“One more thing,” Aliyah said. She thought of Vipsania and her whispered commands, the mention of an Emporium. She didn’t linger on thoughts of Sebile, much. “You know the spire people? A Silken Circle? They’re giving Luxon some trouble. Can’t you make them stay away?”

“The city’s a big place,” Cygnus broke in. “If you don’t mind me saying so, Lieutenant.”

Qilin sighed. “Quite. They haven’t harmed her, have they?”

“Not in an attacking kind of way. But one of the witches took her stuff.”

“Still no guards to spare for that sort of thing,” Qilin said with a shrug of spines. “Not at the moment. Luxon can take care of herself. I trust she’ll notify me if anyone gets violent.”

“There was a crack in her window,” Aliyah tried. “Like someone had hit it, on purpose?”

“I’ll be frank: the Silken Circle are a known nuisance and that’s not reason enough. We’re stretched thin as it is.”

“Luxon can always stay at the Hive with us,” Cygnus said. “If she feels threatened. She might have to, if the Archivist—”

Qilin gave her a look which made her stop talking.

“As I said, I will drop by. For now, I must assist with the spawn-cleaning.”

“Thank you,” Aliyah said, thoughts racing. If the Hive couldn’t stop the Silken Circle from coming near, she might have to take up Kionah’s offer after all.

Qilin tilted her head abruptly, sniffing at the air. “Say, is that…pastry?”

“Fruit pastry, by the smell of it,” Cygnus confirmed, angling her head to peer past a stack of crates. “Mmm. Fresh.”

Aliyah turned and looked with her. Some ways off, Kionah was returning with a stack of pies held in both hands. Judging by the size, Aliyah doubted she’d possessed the sleight of hand to fully steal them. The trio of scouts sprang to the air, almost bumping into one another in their rush to meet her.

“Peach and apple,” Qilin said wistfully. “The humans like to set up carts during these things, don’t they?”

“They cost tokens,” Cynus said, patting the pouch at her belt. “The berry tart is particularly good. Shall we get one, Lieutenant? You have hardly eaten all day.”

Qilin rubbed at her forehead. “Perhaps…I suppose a little break wouldn’t hurt…”

Kionah jogged up to meet them, arms now emptied. Behind her, the scouts bit into their food with evident relish.

“Hello,” she said, inclining her head. “Lieutenant Qilin.”

Qilin looked up. “Kionah, correct? Your friend has informed me of your search for Luxon. The Behemoth is dealt with and she’ll be relieved of her duties soon. I’ll bring your other predicament up with the Hive, but I don’t have the authority to make promises of assistance.”

 “Right,” Kionah said, nodding sharply.

“Glad to be of help. Now, Cygnus, shall we—”

She was interrupted by a muffled crash. A blue faery stumbled off a nearby crate. She had a long, segmented object in her hands, the thickness of a leg and as black as ink. Aliyah matched the sight to what she’d seen of the Behemoth spawn and realised it was a bone. Orange jelly dripped from one end, gluey and viscous.

“Lieutenant,” the arrival panted, adjusting her grip on the enormous shard of bone. “Phonon is stuck along the fourteenth and fifteenth vertebrae.”

“How did he manage that?” Cygnus asked with interest.

The arrival shook her head helplessly. “We’ve tried oiling the sides already. Sawing is too risky for his liking, but he’s getting in the way of extraction.”

Qilin flattened her spines, looking aggrieved. She muttered something unintelligible under her breath, before drawing her wings primly together.

“Did no one think to bring whetted silk? No? It’s supposed to be in the provisions kit…hmph, fine.” She clicked her fingers together and gave a rattling tail-swish. “I’ll take a look. Cygnus, get yourself a meal and ensure our human’s-friend Luxon is on her way off duty.”

“Yes, Lieutenant. I’ll endeavour to buy the team pastries if we’ve the time, Lieutenant!” Cygnus swished her spines in a salute and took to the air.

Qilin sighed and motioned to the blue faery. “Lead the way.”

And with that, they were gone.

Well, Aliyah thought. She’d done her best. She was slightly better off than before. On some level, it felt like the city didn’t care, and the Hive only marginally so, and only for the sake of reputation. But that was the way of things, wasn’t it?

These sprawling structures, these twisted streets—they were just too big, and her problems too small. It towered like spires towered, like castles loomed. Cities were like Killing Field fog, she decided. Kingdoms, too. They didn’t deliberate on hurting you. They sheared their way forward, indifferent, and if you wandered in their way you’d be crushed, same as anything else. They didn’t care. They just were.

Silken witches and schismatists, on the other hand…

“So now what?” Kionah asked. “You good to take a visit to mother, or…?”

Aliyah rubbed at her eyes. How long had it been since she’d last slept? She was drip-feeding adrenaline and cortisol into her bloodstream out of half-formed habit, stilling her pineal gland to stay awake. “Alright.”

“It’s okay,” Kionah said quickly. “I need a rest too. Look, I’ll just—we’ll pop by for a visit, you can look her over, maybe don’t even have to do anything yet. I’ll ask about a hideaway. Won’t be pretty, but it’ll be something.”

Aliyah reached for her magic and brought the familiar well of healing up to her fingertips. It was comforting, in a way. She swept it over herself, washing away what tiredness she could. She could trust herself, with this. Excision felt very, very far away. Years ago, even.

Their stroll took them along more heaving streets; by the sound of things, a good portion of the crowd had witnessed the Behemoth being taken down in some form or another. Chatter swelled, words flowing into one another. The growing heat of the day was ample distraction, and Aliyah hardly noticed the crowds thickening until Kionah grabbed her by the elbow and steered her to the edge of the square. Her grip felt unusually tight.

“What’s that?” she asked, over the growing excitement of the crowd. There was a commotion up ahead.

“We don’t want to go there,” Kionah said firmly.

“Why?” Aliyah glanced around worriedly. They were in broad daylight. There were no witches about, or even any forayer-looking types.

“Hey, good misses! You care for a copy? Only a copper each!”

A child jostled into them, dressed too crisp and clean to be an urchin. He held a stack of leaflets in his hands, which he proceeded to wave in their faces.

“Confessional broadsides, hand-penned by a master scrivener! Only a copper each!”

“No, thank you,” Kionah said, tugging Aliyah away. She glanced back over her shoulder and Aliyah glanced with her: plenty of people seemed to be streaming in from the streets feeding into the square. Kionah leaned in and lowered her voice, just loud enough to be heard over the growing commotion. “We can…we’ll just go around.”

They skirted the edge of a jostling crowd, people waving hats and others sitting on shoulders. Agitation hummed in the air. She spotted a fallen leaflet, dirtied and trampled underfoot, and scooped it up in passing. It was some sort of poem or ballad; the few words she could make out seemed to be lamenting something in smudged, curling script.

“Don’t,” Kionah said, nudging her arm. “It’s garbage, really.”

She gave up on reading the smudged paper and dropped it, where it was promptly trampled by a shrieking trio of beribboned ladies.

“What are they all looking at?” she asked, craning her head. A large, wooden plinth presided over the crowd, but it was empty save for a man pacing back and forth, dressed in black. Some people were whooping and hollering, and others waved flowers overhead. “Some sort of play?”

“No,” Kionah said tersely. “Don’t look, it’s not—they’re going to set up and start killing people, alright?”

Her thoughts froze momentarily, even as her legs carried her onwards. She looked at Kionah again. “They behead people here too?”

“Hanging,” Kionah said.

“Oh.”

“Criminals,” Kionah continued grimly. “Murderers and unfortunates. For show.”

“I see.”

She’d been right in thinking it wasn’t limited to Magicians. Still, the idea of carrying out executions among all this colour and noise—it wasn’t seemly. Not one person was wearing white. Was it more…common, here? Did Glisterians find a human dangling on a rope just as entertaining as a Behemoth being bespelled to death? She spotted children being carried by their parents, and shivered.

Murderers. She was going to need more practice not thinking about that alleyway, the excision, the throat peeling away from trachea.

Kionah must’ve seen some change on her face, because she shot her a sympathetic look for all the wrong reasons. “Come on,” she said, increasing her pace. “We don’t want to stick around for them to present the prisoners. People swarm the stage sometimes—real messy.”

Aliyah swallowed. “Right.”

A tide of raucous cheers rolled through the air as they left the square. She resisted the urge to look back. Her pulse steadied by the time they reached the station Kionah was after. Exhaustion bleated at her brainstem, and she let the equilibrium seep past her barriers if only to think of anything else.

So I had to make a tiny retroactive edit to a line of dialogue in 2.1 where Kionah said “they don’t behead people here, for one”. This is technically true, but would be weirdly misleading.

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