CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
We made yet another early start. According to Bastian, if we continued at our current pace, we’d make it to Seelie lands by sundown. And even better yet, an actual town. With an inn. And a proper bed.
The way I could’ve cried tears of happiness when he told me we’d be sleeping in an actual bed for the night. It’s very likely that the bed won’t be much better than the forest floor, but it’s the mental shift alone that will help me. The fact that I’m still nightmare-free only further excites me.
If someone had told me weeks ago that I would find a bed a luxury, I’d have laughed in their face. But after several nights having to sleep on the hard earth or in a freezing cave, even the lumpiest mattress in the world is a blessing.
We pushed hard through the morning, barely even stopping to have our midday meal of tough bread and dried meat. The more the sun began to drop from the sky, the more the forest around us began to shift.
It was gradual at first. The slight brightening of the leaves, the incremental increase in the temperature, the wintry pine scent mingling with the salty tang of the sea. I peppered Bastian with questions about the town we were stopping in for the night, Pontera, but he was incredibly tightlipped about it, revealing nothing to me. I could see the amusement sparkling in his eyes so I’m not entirely sure what to expect. This could be the grungiest town I’ll have ever seen and he’s looking forward to my horror, or it could be the most incredible sight. It’s hard to tell with him, which is mildly infuriating. One of these days I’ll be able to read him like a book, I know it.
The growing scent of the sea makes me think that maybe it will be a quaint oceanside town, which would be incredible. I’ve never seen the ocean—or any large body of water really—in my life. I even told Bastian this and he still refused to enlighten me on anything about the town.
It was still a couple hours from sundown by the time we crossed the bridge that marked the entrance into Seelie. From there, Bastian said it was only about an hour before we reached Pontera. I was, of course, eagerly counting down the minutes from the moment we crossed the bridge until I could catch my first glimpse of the town.
And the second I did, I was glad he didn’t tell me what to expect.
I suspect nothing he would have said could have prepared me for it anyway.
“Oh my gods,” I breathe out, jaw dropped open as I pull myself from the horse.
“Close your mouth, you’re drooling,” Bastian’s mirth-filled voice says from beside me. When I flick my eyes in his direction, I can see the smirk on his face.
“This place can’t be real,” I say in awe.
It’s the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen.
I don’t even fully know how to describe what I’m looking at, if I were ever to recount this adventure to Tom.
From the vantage point we have on the top of a slight hill, I can see past the town to the sea, where the water stretches well into the horizon and beyond. The town itself is broken apart by a network of canals. There must be at least a dozen bridges I can see from here to move between the little islands of town. The water is the brightest bluish green under the orange glow of the setting sun.
The buildings are all made of some sort of white and cream stones but there are pops of color all over with the window shutters, doors, even some that look to be covered in thick coats of bright paint. And the bridges range from elaborate colored stones to simple white stone, and even a few that are basic wooden structures.
It’s as I’m admiring the most elaborate of bridges that I notice the small boats floating through the canal system.
“Wow.” It seems I can’t manage to say much more than that.
Bastian, following my line of sight, picks up on the objects of my focus. “The boats serve several purposes of the town. In some cases, it’s faster to travel through the canals from one end of town to the other instead of traversing through the streets. So some of those boats are people movers. Others are moving goods, which helps to save merchants from carting goods over the cobbled roads. And some of those boats are people’s homes.”
“Homes?” I blurt out. He simply nods in reply, the edge of his lips kicking up in amusement at my shock. “You mean to tell me that some of the townsfolk live onboats? Why ever would they do that?”
He chuckles before answering. “In many cases, it’s because it’s more affordable than paying for a home on the land. But also, the town experiences frequent flooding as the tides rise with the moon phases. It’s much harder for your home to flood when itsimply riseswiththe tide. And some of the Fae just love the water enough to want to live on it.”
“Don’t the Seelie Fae have control over water? Couldn’t they use their powers to drive off the flood waters?”
“They do, to an extent. But trying to control a force such as the sea and rivers is much more difficult than it may seem. It would require a tremendous amount of power, the likes of which no one has ever seen in my lifetime.”
“So, what do they do about the flooding then? Does it not damage the town?” My brows furrow with confusion.
I can see the thoughts running through his head as he weighs how much he wants to tell me. I raise an eyebrow in a silent challenge likedon’t you dare hide things from me. Eventually he finds his words. “It does damage the town. I don’t know everything as I don’t have the inside glimpse of the Seelie court, but the way I understand it, many people are losing their homes and belongings to the floodwaters. They continue to raise their concerns to the King and Queen for support, whether it be financial or building in more protections to the construction of the town. The rumors I’ve heard are that the palace hasn't yet taken any sort of action to help the town.”
My head rears back. “But that can’t be true. The palace must be doing something. They wouldn’t just leave their own citizens to fend for themselves like that.”Would they?
Surely not. But the argument tastes bitter on my tongue. I don’t truly know the King and Queen. Or I suppose I should refer to them as my parents.
I don’t think I could ever leave a town to the whims of nature. Especially if they’re losing their whole lives because of it.
“Like I said,” Bastian says, voice carefully measured, “I’m not as informed on the happenings inside the palace. They could be helping, but all I know are the rumors I’ve heard on my own trips through the town over the years.”
