We pass through the clearing and enter the Uphill, where most of the activities are winding down for the night. Everything closes here much earlier than in the Downhill. Residents clean up the food wrappers and trash littered throughout the grass outside their caravans. Some take their laundry off the lines or throw tarps over their tents in case of rain.
“Like what?” I ask. The only things I know about stars are the nonsense Villiam tells me.
“Right now, it’s the constellation of the lion.” Luca points to a pattern in the night sky. “Once a year, the moon will position itself directly behind the lion’s head like a mane. It’s said that on that day each year, a king is either made or falls.”
“When is it?”
“It already passed a few days ago. I don’t know about any kings coming or going, though. It’s just a story the town loon used to tell.”
We approach the Freak Show tent, with its black and red stripes and shimmering glass ball at its peak. Tree stands beside our sign, slouched slightly but not quite sleeping, and blending into the forest scenery. He watches us approach, particularly Luca. “A bit fancier than my little platform,” he says, then startles. “Oh, I didn’t see him there.” He eyes Tree up and down and then extends his hand.
Tree doesn’t move.
Luca moves the hand away and shoves it in his pocket. His eyes narrow as he inspects Tree, as if making sure he’s awake. I stifle a laugh. No one seems to understand Tree besides me. “So,” he says awkwardly, “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”
Both of us pause, and I’m not sure why. Perhaps because this walk has felt very casual, that a lot of our relationship feels casual, when it is centered around the deaths of my uncle and baby brother. It was somehow surprisingly easy to forget that fact when I was at his tent, bickering about things that don’t matter, but now we’re here, in front ofmytent and the grief it houses.
A few minutes ago, I was someone else. Someone distanced from the despair here.
But now that I’m back, I’m Sorina again.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I say. “Thanks for the company.”
He doesn’t say anything but simply nods and walks down the path.
I decided earlier we weren’t going to be friends. But as I watch him disappear into the smoke, I suppose I could warm up to him. This partnership won’t be a complete disaster.
I turn to Tree, who leans down over me so that his leaves itch the back of my neck. One of them falls at my feet. “You’re shedding,” I tell him.
He pokes my cheek with one of his twigs, which scratches me. He forgets which parts of me tickle and which do not.
I tickle him under his arm, and his laughs make his leaves shake as if a wind blew through him. “You’re not usually in the Festival at night. Are you keeping watch?”
He nods. His eyes are wide. He’s worried. He’s missing Gill and Blister.
I rub behind his ear. “We’ll protect them, don’t you worry.”
CHAPTER TEN
While we’re gathered together in our sitting room, seated on the floor among peanut shells and junk that no one has bothered to clean, Nicoleta tells the group that she thinks sleeping in the same tent together will cheer everyone up. I, unwilling to participate and be the bearer of bad news, focus on my book. Neither Crown nor Tree seem to care much one way or the other, but Hawk and Unu and Du complain about it until nearly sunrise.
“Du has morning breath. I’m not sleeping next to him.”
“Hawk snores.”
“Unu sleep-talks. It’s terrifying.”
“Then sleep at opposite sides of the room,” Nicoleta snaps. She rubs her temples, and I brace myself for the complaints I’m bound to hear later about one of her stress headaches. “Hawk, you can trade places with Crown.”
“But his feet—” Du starts.
Nicoleta grabs him by his ear. “If I hear your voice again in the next ten minutes, I’ll shave you both bald in your sleep.” Both of their jaws drop in expressions of horror. Unu and Du’s impressive manes of brown hair are their pride and joy.
Nicoleta takes a deep breath to compose herself. Her hair has fallen piece by piece out of her bun, and she scratches at the dry skin on her arms, leaving streaks across her biceps. “Venera, you can sleep in Sorina’s room to make room for the others.”
I look up at the mention of my name. Villiam likely expects me to have the reading finished for when we meet again the day after tomorrow, but Venera would be a welcome distraction. I’m currently skimming the book about Gomorrah’s proprietors, though the stories are rife with bloodshed.
Hawk digs into her pouch of lucky coins. Earlier today, she and Unu and Du traded some of theirs in the gambling neighborhood.
