Meadowcity Read online

  “See? I told you I was going to do some hunting,” Ven raised the creature up. “At least we’ll have a nice breakfast.”

  Sylvia stifled a laugh. Her nerves were almost shot. She sheathed her knife back in her boot to wipe her clammy hands on her blouse. She reached down for the knife again with a better grip now, and said, “Let’s get moving. Our breakfast might have just given us away.”

  Her stomach was in turmoil—certainly not about the breakfast—what if the hunters had heard?

  Ven took the lead again, fastening the rabbit to the outside of his pack as he walked.

  The rest of their night walk was surprisingly calm but eerie. They traversed the old pine forest for hours in the dark, lit only by the quarter moon. Sylvia’s limbs became heavy as her body fought fatigue. She forced her eyes to remain open and alert though, something she had first learned to do when she trained to become a Rider.

  When traveling alone, as she almost always did, she only had herself to rely on, and had to remain alert always. It was a tiring process, which was part of the reason so few people took up the task. Her body was capable of waiting out the night—but in all honesty; she was really looking forward to that bed of pine needles. Every step brought her closer.

  The first ray of sun to peer above the horizon was like a balm to Sylvia. They quickly agreed to make camp, and Ven volunteered to take watch. Flint didn’t argue for a second, clearly happy to get some more rest.

  Sylvia handed her knife to Ven, but unfastened her spear from her pack to keep next to her as she slept. She wasn’t about to sleep weaponless, and the spear only had one sharp end she had to worry about accidently cutting herself on while sleeping.

  Her fingers curled around its smooth oak handle, caressing the familiar weapon. Her eyes closed once, and sleep overcame her.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Sorin left his office and headed towards the Great Room, the noise emitting from it echoing loudly all the way down the corridor. Onen had promised not to breathe a word of the book, or the possible existence of a fifth city until Sorin could find out more. Head down, his eyes tracked along the glass floor, the sun’s rays reaching below the building, throwing drastic shadows.

  First, he wanted to know where the book had been found, and then he would work from there. The intensity of the sunlight in the foyer surprised him as he entered, the sinking sun throwing a rich orange throughout the glass covered room.

  He wove through the revelers; all decked out in fine red and gold ensembles each holding a glass of cider or a plate of food, excitedly chatting with one another. The women mostly wore floor length gowns in sun colors to celebrate the Autumn harvest.

  Passing through the arch to the Great Room, Sorin began searching for the massive form of Falx. He knew he would be in here with his fellow Scouts, all celebrating being home for once, instead of out on the road, and alone. Sorin needed to know where the book came from.

  Citizens called to him as he slowly made his way around the room, the clusters of conversation slowing his progress. He kindly said hello to everyone, keeping up his professional demeanor as much as he could, but thoughts of the book burned like a fever inside of him, he just had to find out where Falx had gotten it.

  “Sorin!” a woman called from behind him.

  His forced smile turned into a real one as he turned to see Savannah heading towards him in a beautiful golden gown flowing from her porcelain shoulders to her feet. Her hand raised in greeting was encased in a silky red glove that ran up past her elbow. Her hair had been pulled up off her long neck, tumbling out in black curls.

  Sorin froze, completely forgetting what he was doing. She came towards him, the beautiful golden dress whispering across her toes as she approached, her feet encased in simple red sandals.

  “Savannah, hello,” he managed.

  “Hello to you, Governor—Sorin,” she corrected, dipping her head and raising the goblet of cider she held to her lips.

  He cleared his throat and took a half step forward, taking her other hand in greeting, the silky smoothness of her gloves whispered across his palm.

  “Your dress is beautiful,” he remarked.

  “Thank you,” she smiled at him, holding her cider with both hands now and looking back at him.

  “I wove it myself,” she said, turning a little to indicate the glowing fabric.

  Sorin raised his eyebrows, and she continued.

  “I didn’t sew it though—my mother is the one for that. I can’t sew worth a—” she stopped, blushing a little as she took another sip of her cider.

  “Neither can I.” Sorin grinned.

  She giggled. The sound wove through him and pinged on every nerve in his body.

  “Did you just arrive?” she inquired, her eyes briefly darting around the Hall.

  “Yes, I’ve just been working in my office. Have you been here long?”

  “Oh yes, I came with my mother early on. Ms. Glaslyn gave me the afternoon off, but I have to come in first thing tomorrow for cleanup,” she grimaced good-naturedly.

  “Ah, well, I may be Governor, but I can’t save you from Glaslyn. She’s the one who really runs this place.”

  She laughed again and Sorin couldn’t hear a single other noise in the Great Room.

  “Shall we get you something to drink?” she said, turning to look at the end of the room.

  The glass panels had darkened slightly so as not to blind the whole room with the great light of the descending sun, now at eye level. The panels had been tempered specially in Lightcity, with a fascinating formula that darkened partially with enough light.

  “That would be perfect,” he said, smiling back at her.

  She touched the top of his hand and he followed her through the crowd to the sunset window. As they walked he looked down at his hand, wondering why it was tingling.

  Her shimmering gold dress floated over the glass floor as they darted through the crowd. The setting sun was beginning to light the room spectacularly, the darkened window letting through most of its radiance.

  Savannah reached the table first and took an empty goblet from a tray, extending it to Sorin. His heart jumping inexplicably, he took the glass from her silky gloved hand. Without a word, the two strode to the massive cider barrels just a few feet away, and Sorin filled his glass.

  “Are you making a speech later, then?” she asked, sipping from her own goblet.

  He shook his head.

  “Not this year. Head Councilman Ayr gets the honor.” He smiled. He truly detested making these long speeches.

  Savannah frowned. “I thought I was going to get to watch you speak tonight!”

  She lightly punched him on the shoulder, and then withdrew her hand, her cheeks flaming red.

  But Sorin only grinned.

  “Next year. I only have to torture the city with my speeches every other year.”

  “Oh, but they can’t be that bad,” she needled.

  “Didn’t you see it last year?”

  She looked down at her red sandals, glinting with tiny jewels.

  “I might have ducked out before then,” she admitted with a grin. “My neighbors had some new fireworks they bought from Lightcity, and I wanted to help set them off.”

  “I’m afraid I can’t picture you setting off fireworks,” he chuckled, eyeing her fine silk gloves and gown.

  “Well, you don’t know me that well then, do you?” she taunted lightly, eyeing him over her cider.

  Sorin didn’t know what to say. He could see Councilman Ayr standing at the podium at the center of the room, straightening some papers.

  Savannah’s eyes roved around the room, and she nodded to herself.

  “Do you want to?” she asked suddenly.

  “Know you?” he stuttered, completely at a loss.

  “Want to skip the speeches and get a head start on the street celebrations?” The words tumbled out of her so fast Sorin had to think a moment to piece them together.

  “Skip the speeches?�
�� Why do I keep answering her in questions? he thought wildly.

  “Unless you think someone will notice?” Her face curved into a tantalizing smile, daring him.

  He looked up at Ayr, and saw Glaslyn behind him, handing the man another stack of paper.

  “God, no. Let’s go,” he said quickly, before he could change his mind.

  He took her satin-covered elbow and led her through the crowd, eyes only on the exit. No one would notice his absence. Glaslyn was too busy setting up Ayr for the speech, which was sure to last hours from the looks of it. It was tradition on Summer’s End to recap the city’s progress of the year, and Ayr sure had a lot of notes in front of him. Sure, the city’s progress was something to celebrate, but listening to it all in one go was agony. It was a wonder anyone stayed to listen.

  They reached the archway and passed under the red and gold ribbon and into the foyer. He whisked her out the door and down the stone steps, keen to be away from anyone who might notice him skipping out.

  He took a deep breath of fresh air once they reached the street, already smelling of fire and fuses of the fireworks ready to take off. Regrettably he let go of Savannah’s elbow, and she looked at him, her grey eyes glinting in the light from the street lamps.

  “This way,” she said, leading him to the left on the main road.

  He said nothing as he followed her, his stomach feeling as if it were doing flips. They passed the Library in the dusky light, and his mind flitted briefly to the book.

  Her jeweled sandals made no sound on the stones as they passed through the street, which was slowly emptying of revelers the farther they got from the Hall. She led him down a narrow lane between the schoolhouse and a shop, the grey stone walls swallowing them up briefly before they emptied out onto a residential street.

  Sorin reached up and unbuttoned the topmost button of his shirt, shrugging his shoulders to loosen the fabric. They silently walked by the villas, most of them empty, and he briefly wondered where they were headed.

  As if reading his thoughts, Savannah said, “My neighbors bought a load of fireworks from Lightcity again this year, even better than the ones from last year. I don’t know if they’ve started setting up yet.”

  Her voice carried through the street, echoing slightly off the tall villas on either side. They turned down another lane, the stones beneath their feet growing more worn with every step. She must live in one of the old sections of Skycity, Sorin thought.

  Sorin himself lived just behind the Citizen’s Hall, in a large villa all to himself. It was far too big for him.

  “They know this Rider, Iren, who gives them a good deal on transporting them.”

  “Ah, Iren Blackburn? He’s a good Rider.”

  Sorin had wanted him to join the Scouts, but Iren was a Rider who loved his freedom. Perhaps someday he would join.

  “You must know everybody in city,” she said as they turned down another narrow street.

  “Not everyone, just enough to do my job right,” he said, turning his head at the old style villas.

  “What’s it like, being Governor?” she asked.

  They were slowing now, down a very old street, the stone villas on either side ran up two short stories.

  Sorin laughed. “I don’t think anyone’s asked me like that before.”

  She stopped at a doorstep, her golden gown trailing as she went up the few stairs to undo the latch. He waited at the bottom until she pushed the door into her villa.

  “Well, it’s quite boring most of the time, actually,” he said as he followed her in. “But I find ways to make it interesting.”

  She laughed as they walked through a brightly lit foyer into the main room.

  “Come on, be serious,” she turned and grinned at him. “What’s it really like?”

  She was so close to him in the hallway, her long black hair nearly brushing his arm. It was very warm, and he could smell a delicate scent of lavender, with a hint of flashpowder in the air.

  He could barely answer. Her bright pink lips shone with gloss as she smiled at him.

  “It’s a bit intimidating actually,” he managed.

  She reached up to remove her two earrings and place them on a side table as he talked.

  “I spent my whole life when I was young wanting to become a city leader like my father. And it’s true I spend most of my time with paperwork and city meetings, but then I remember that I’m responsible for this whole city, I get caught up a little.”

  It was strange talking to her like this—only yesterday would he have shared no more than a greeting with her in passing. She was just so open.

  She was pulling off her silky red gloves by the fingers and she said, “Come on out back, my neighbors will be in the commonyard setting up by now.”

  *

  Savannah’s family villa shared a large commonyard with the rest of her block. The older part of the city was a little more crowded on the streets, but afforded much more of a back yard, as Sorin knew. The whole block seemed to be in the yard, sharing food, cider and conversation.

  They came out the back of her villa down the short stairs and onto the grass. The commonyard was a grassy square, with garden plots and tables scattered around, and an expansive hearthfire in the middle. Her neighbors, the Wynd’s, were gathered around a battered table near the center, unpacking some crates. Savannah led him over and introduced him.

  Kent, a towering man, reached out a callused hand and shook Sorin’s before busying himself back in a box of fireworks.

  “Governor Greyling, what an honor!” he said, his gruff voice rumbling over the loud conversations all over the yard.

  “You’ll have to forgive my manners, but I’ve got a show to set up here,” Sorin reached over as the crate Kent was pulling fireworks from toppled.

  “Thanks,” the large man said.

  “Please, call me Sorin.”

  “Savannah been talking up our fireworks, then?” Kent threw a mock wary eye at Savannah.

  She laughed, suddenly turning with two glasses of cider in her hands, handing one to Sorin.

  “You know it Kent. They’re the best in city,” she grinned at Sorin, who took a sip from his cider.

  The tart drink was sweeter on his tongue than the one he had sipped in the Hall. He looked up at the sky, the only evidence of the sun now a dissipating glow from the west.

  The woman next to Savannah introduced herself as Avia, Kent’s wife. They were only a little older than Sorin himself. Avia was much shorter than her husband, and Sorin thought they made an oddly contrasting pair. She was very delicate, and Kent was a massive man with thick arms and a booming voice. He recognized Avia from somewhere though, but couldn’t quite remember.

  The dusk air was becoming cool in the absence of the sun. Savannah put her cider glass down on the table and took a step towards Sorin.

  “I’m just going to nip inside for a shawl,” she told him, leaning in and brushing his arm.

  Sorin nodded, and took a sip from his glass. He let out a steadying breath, as he watched some of the neighbors lighting globes hung from wire around the yard. The glow from the sun was waning steadily as excitement began to build for the firework display.

  He turned back to Kent, who was placing the fireworks on the battered wooden table, all down the edge. The table was clearly used for this before, burn marks, stray nails and scrapes marking its history.

  “I’d offer a hand, but I’m afraid I wouldn’t be of any help,” he told Kent, shrugging with a smile.

  The big man smiled as he began nailing the base of a firework to the table.

  “No worries, Governor—but wait ‘til we get to the fun part, and I’ll let you set one off.”

  Sorin wasn’t so sure that was a good idea, Though, Savannah said she set them off herself, so he might very well want to try.

  Just as his thoughts returned to her, he looked and saw her hopping down the short stairs behind her villa. She had a black fur wrap around her shoulders, and had changed out
of her golden gown. She now wore sleek leggings, and a soft woven top. More appropriate for setting off backyard fireworks, he thought.

  He tried not to watch her walk back to the table, but couldn’t help it much. He looked over to Avia as Savannah was returning, and suddenly realized where he recognized her from.

  “You’re a Book Keeper,” he said to Avia, who nodded. There was something else he couldn’t recall though.

  “Yes, I spend some time there during the week stocking shelves,” she said warmly.

  Savannah had rejoined them at the table, though now they all began to edge away, as Kent was clearly in his element installing the fireworks. Sorin had no idea what he was doing, but it looked like Kent sure did.

  “Avia’s studying to be an instructor at the school though,” Savannah said brightly.

  Avia nodded, her curly brown hair brushing her shoulders.

  “There’s no better place to learn about history than the Library.”

  Sorin’s stomach flipped. The Library. The book. How could he have forgotten, for even a moment?

  “Alright everybody, move back,” Kent called, and everyone started moving towards the perimeter of the yard.

  He had never found Falx at the Hall. He had to find out where the book came from. But now he was here watching Skycitizens set off fireworks—with Savannah.

  Surely the book could wait until tomorrow. It certainly wasn’t going anywhere. But what of the fifth city? Could it possibly exist?

  He watched as Kent brought a long stick to the hearthfire, holding it there long enough to secure a flame. Another man lit one as well as the two approached the long battered table. Sorin looked at Savannah, clutching her fur wrap about her shoulders and grinning.

  They had backed up to the long stone wall that separated the street from the commonyard. Few scattered lamps lit the yard as they all waited, looking at the sky, now dark enough for them to begin.

  Kent let out a whooping yell as he and his friend lit the first few on the table. Sorin looked up at the sky as smooth fingers slipped into his hand. He looked at his side to Savannah whose face was beaming. Her grey eyes were lit up as a smile curved her lips.