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Unfortunately, I hadn't considered how we were going to get into the city once we reached it. The glass dome ran all the way down to the ground, and although there appeared to be a place where hinges made a glass door, that was guarded by a group of Mokian soldiers. The stout, well-muscled men were bare-chested, their faces painted with black swirling lines and patterns like Maori war paint. They carried spears made from a black wood, and some of the spearheads were on fire.
Despite the fearsome display, the soldiers themselves looked like they'd had a hard time of it in the fighting. Most of them wore bandages or slings, and they looked at me and my group with suspicion.
"Our purpose may hold there!" one of the men said through a small slit in the glass. “Who comes here?” They didn't open the door for us.
I stepped forward. “Sir, my good friend. I do commend me to you."
Bastille stepped forward, showing her Crystin blade, the symbol of a Knight of Crystallia. "Swear by my sword,” she proclaimed.
A Crystin seemed enough proof for the Mokians that we were good guys. They opened the small glass doorway, waving us in. we let Kaz and Aydee go first while I looked back at the camp. We'd done it! I puffed in fatigue, but smiled at our victory.
Beside me, Bastille seemed less enthusiastic.
"How is it that the clouds still hang on you?" I asked her.
She shrugged, regarding the chaotic Librarian ranks, particularly the place where we'd been forced to fight. "My soul is full of discord and dismay."
"The lady doth protest too much, methinks."
Bastille looked at me. I could tell from her expression that she blamed me for upsetting everything. That was probably fair, since I'd not only been the one to suggest the plan but the one to ruin it by picking up the Librarian's gun.
"How absolute the knave is," Bastille said, tapping me on the chest.
"This above all," I said, shrugging and smiling wryly, "to thine own self be true."
And with that, we entered Tuki Tuki.
CHAPTER A+
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
. . .
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The Mokian soldiers ushered us through the glass doorway, several of them keeping watchful guard at the army behind. Inside the glass shield, a ten-foot-high wooden wall surrounded the city. The wall was battered and broken, burned in places, and looked like it had seen a lot of fighting before the glass shell had been put in place.
As soon as we were through the door, several soldiers slammed it shut. One of the soldiers called up toward the wall. "Smedrys have arrived! A Crystin is with them! Lady Aydee has returned!"
Others picked up the shouts, passing them along the line of ragged defenders standing atop the wall. The men around me lost their suspicion and began to look hopeful.
"Lord Smedry," one of them said. "You are an advance force? How many troops is Nalhalla sending us?"
“Are there any others with you?" another asked hopefully.
"Are the Knights of Crystallia mobilized?" yet another asked. "When will they arrive?"
"Er," I said, taking off my Bestower's Lenses as more questions swarmed me.
"We're alone," Bastille said curtly. "We didn’t bring any more help, the knights aren't mobilized, and we really don’t have time to talk about it."
Everyone fell silent. Bastille has a talent for killing conversations. Basically, Bastille has a talent for killing anything.
"What she means," I said, shooting a glare her direction, "is that we're here to help, and we hope more will follow. But we're it for now."
The soldiers seemed crestfallen.
"I'm sorry we didn't let you in more quickly, Lord Smedry," said one of the men. "It seemed like you had young Aydee captive there, and we weren’t sure what was going on."
Oh, right, I thought. It probably would have made sense to have her approach first, since she's from the city. Ah well. You can't expect me to think of everything, particularly considering how stoopid I am.
You haven't forgotten that, have you? Don’t make me start spelling things wrong to prove it to you.
In the distance, a gate opened in the wooden wall and a contingent of Mokians came out carrying spears that were alight with fire in the night. The soldiers around us made way for the newcomers, and I could tell they respected the man at their lead. He was tall, with long black hair pulled into a ponytail and tied with a beaded string. His face was painted with black lines. He had a powerful, muscular chest and - like most of the other Mokians - wore a simple wrap around his waist, colored red and blue. For some reason, he looked vaguely familiar to me.
"So it is true," he said, stopping before us, burning spear held to the side. "Welcome, Lord Alcatraz Smedry, to our doomed city. You have picked an interesting time to visit us. Lady Bastille, your sister will be pleased to see you, though I doubt the circumstances will make her happy. Lord Kazan, you are welcome - as always – in Tuki Tuki."
"Do I know you?" Kaz said, narrowing his eyes.
"I'm general of the city guard in Tuki Tuki," the man said. He had a commanding, deep voice. "I have seen you many times, though I doubt I was worth your notice. Likely, you have seen my face, but we have never been introduced." He looked to Aydee and nodded to her. "Child, your brave mission does you honor. We are already in communication with the embassy in Nalhalla."
Aydee blushed. "Thank you, Your . . . er . . . General Mallo."
"We had not expected you to return, however," he said sternly. "You should have remained in Nalhalla, where it is safe."
Her blush deepened. "But my cousin needed a pilot! He had to come to Mokia!"
"Yes," Mallo said flatly. "I've received a report from the embassy regarding the urgent departure. A vacation to visit the mud baths? That is ridiculous, even for a Smedry."
Now it was my turn to blush. "General," I said, "there are other reasons for our visit. I need to speak to the queen as soon as possible - and after that, I'll need a little time with your Communicator's Glass. I might be able to get you some help for this siege."
The soldiers nearby perked up, and the general gave me an appraising look. "Very
well. The Smedry clan has long been friends, and sometimes family, of the Mokian royalty. You are always welcome." He gathered some soldiers, then led us to the city gate.
"I feel I should give you some kind of grand introduction, Lord Smedry," General Mallo said as we entered Tuki Tuki. "But these are not days for joyful tours. So instead, just let me say this. Welcome to the City of Flowers." He raised a hand as I stepped through the gate.
We were at the bottom of the gentle hillside. I looked up along the main road that ran all the way to the palace. Flowers grew on virtually everything. The hutlike buildings were overgrown with vines that intertwined with the reeds that made up their walls, and these sprouted colorful, hibiscuslike blossoms. Flower beds ran alongside the road, with exotic bird-of-paradise blooms perching atop them. A line of enormous trees ran behind the buildings, their limbs extending out over the rooftops. These grew heaps of purple flowers that hung down over the road, collected in batches like bunches of grapes. It was gorgeous.
“Wow," I said. "Glad I'm not allergic!"
General Mallo grunted, gesturing with his flaming spear, leading us forward. Carrying that spear around struck me as a little bit dangerous, but who was I to speak? After all, I was the one walking around with a weapons-grade Smedry Talent stuffed inside me.
“Fortunately, Lord Smedry," Mallo said as we walked, "our flowers are all nonallergenic."
"How did you get them that way?" I asked.
"We asked them very nicely,” Mallo said.
"Er, okay.”
"It was much more difficult than it sounds, Alcatraz,” Aydee added. "Do you know how many different species of flower there are in the city? Six thousand! Our floralinguists had to learn each and every language."
"Floralinguists?" I said.
“They talk to flowers!” Aydee said excitedly.
"I kind of figured that," I said. "What kinds of things do they say?"
"Oh,” Mallo said, "they tend to ramble a lot and use big words, but there isn't often much substance to what they say, despite the beauty and ornamentation of the language."
