This time, though, they produced two little gleaming strands of gold."I made these for you with our Celravi!See?"They shoved the strands at me and I realized I was now holding two little bracelets, each with several dangling charms."This one's for our Araxis, because it's got a sword and a flower and a teapot, andthisone's for you, because it's got a dumpling and a leaf and a treasure.Our Araxis said you get presents when it's the day you hatched, so that's your present.And there's one for Araxis because – because he'sneverhad a present for hatching."
My throat tightened as I lifted the bracelets up, studying them.Was this abirthday present?My thumb rubbed over the charms on the bracelet Talvi had said was for me.The third charm was a tiny gem, glinting green in the light overhead.
I couldn't think about it, or I'd do something awful like tearing up.
"Thank you," I murmured in abayan, my throat hot."You're generous and thoughtful.We'll put them on when I see our Araxis."And then, because I couldn't help myself, I crouched down again and pressed a kiss against Talvi's cool forehead, giving them a quick squeeze.
They wriggled out of my grasp, nose wrinkling in amusement."Do you get it?I'mthe dumpling," they said conspiratorially, and then with a delighted burble, they headed back into the room with their siblings, door slamming shut again as their voices raised in a fever pitch about who was sitting where and who'd gotten to be inthe blanket cavelast time.
Verdant Ward was never busy enough to feel crowded, but there was a buzz in the air as Thodin and I made our way toward Kastravis Museum where Araxis and I would be spending the evening.The false sky overhead was streaked with orange and red, a luscious sunset for anyone who missed the real thing.I craned my neck, squinting at the streaks of colour."Does it really look like that?"I asked, skeptical.It was more like a painting of impossible colours that had all run together, and I was inclined to call it a romanticized version for the rich masses.
Thodin, his shoulders perpetually hunched to make himself look smaller, uncurled just a little, scanning the sky above us."Sometimes," he murmured, and the colours gleamed in his dark eyes.
I could make out the museum in the distance, a tall building lit up like a beacon and painted in warm purples and pinks and yellows that cascaded down to the street beyond as the colours overhead continued to darken.There were ward guards positioned at a few places along the way, but they'd tucked themselves into the shadows so as to not be too disruptive.
Whatdidlook disruptive, though, were the flashing silver cameras and the spokespeople from various media broadcasters, chatting happily to the sumptuously-dressed crowd who were approaching the museum, lingering outside, or slowly drifting up the expanse of stairs toward the interior.It looked to be mostly abaya in attendance, although there were ketaari as well, and a handful of mar.But Sozamia Station was functionally a hub for the abayan empire, its strongest foothold outside of the empire, so I wasn't surprised that this crowd was mostly made up of representatives from important creches.
The only other time I'd seen this many abaya gathered in one place had been at the cultural centre in Radiant Ward, and then a bunch of them had been arrested.It was a strange inversion, to be here among the rich and powerful.Araxis was right to describe the crecheless as the shadow-self of this crowd.What were these people deliberately, pointedly forgetting when they pretended their shadows didn't exist?
I hesitated, far enough away that the lights from the museum didn't touch the increasing dimness of the boulevard around us.As darkness began to settle over the street, additional displays flared to life around the museum to either side of the stairs that led to its massive shape: dramatic shots of space in purples and blues, shifting and roiling on unseen solar winds, as if someone had gone and caught a star system and tucked it away here for safe keeping.“Is that Xitera?”I asked, as we continued to lurk off to the side.
Next to me, Thodin was stiff, his eyes frantically darting across the glittering crowd.He nodded, seemingly unable to speak, and I could actuallytrackhis anxiety in the way his shoulders began to inch upwards.Still, his crest was unmoving.
He needed to be put out of his misery."Well, you've walked me here,” I said, trying not to get lost in the whirling display of the star system that we’d be headed to in only a few weeks.“You can go back."
"I should wait," he whispered next to me, sounding quietly devastated.
"Nope," I said, firm."Look, there are guards and everything."I jerked my chin and pointed them out, and Thodin blinked rapidly, surprised.I guess Iwaslearning a thing or two aboutsituational awareness.See, this was why I paid Tam to occasionally come at me from my blind spots.
"Are you certain?"
"Of course I am."In truth, Thodin looked like he might faint if he had to get closer to that many people – to say nothing of the number of important abaya here from powerful creches.
And then I had an idea, and it was so incredibly appealing that I couldn’t resist."What was your creche before you were ours?"I asked.At his startled expression, I added, "I know it's a bit rude to ask.I just want to know who I should spill a drink on tonight.Point me at them.Anyone who cut you loose is an idiot, and I'd like them to look that way."
Which is how I ended up striding to the plaza out front of the museum with a minor mission for myself, which was to find someone important from Creche Sonen and do something vague and unspecified that would be at least a little humiliating.
By this point, I'd mostly gotten used to heads swivelling in my direction when I went somewhere public, even if it didn't usually happen in Verdant Ward.I certainly didn't expect an elite cocktail party at a museum to be like that, so I was caught off-guard when, as I threaded my way through the crowd, doing a quick sweep to take the lay of the land and listen for any promising name-drops or interesting bits of idle gossip, it wasn't hushed conversation I walked through but a wave of silence that followed me like impulse wakes after a shuttle.
Huh.Weird.A few reporters and journalists were hovering around the edges, identifiable by the shoals of silver cameras glinting over their shoulders and the particularly hungry look that flashed in their eyes when I looked in their direction.I'd had enough of the media in general during my time at the Tournament, and enough of abayan broadcasters specifically after the way they'd spoken to Araxis and about me, so it wasn't hard to make sure I never made it close to the edges where they were gathered.
A broad set of stairs swept up from the plaza to the museum itself, where I could just make out the indistinct shapes of more bodies moving in the spaces inside.Now that I was closer, the holo projection of Xitera was even more striking: the cosmic clouds, the eddies, the little dots of planets and moons, all hung perfectly in the space to either side of the stairs, like twinkling garlands for the lunar festival.I slipped past the clusters of abaya and other visitors outside, smiling prettily and nodding to some of the faces I recognized – and there were a few; I guess those meetings really had been with the upper crust of creches on Sozamia – but instead of polite greetings in return, I was met with deliberate, pointed blankness.As if I wasn't even there.As if I was a servant, moving unseen through a crowd of my betters.
My skin prickled uncomfortably.I could handle being ignored, but there was a weight to this particular silence that made me uneasy on a deep, instinctive level.I'd promised Araxis we'd meet out here, so, despite wanting to head inside and get out of this glittering crowd, I found a railing near the bottom of the steps I could lean against that was at a decent remove from the media.I pretended not to notice the way that everyone in the area went silent the moment I approached.
I flashed up Araxis's contact card.I'm here.Will you be long?
Then to Val:At some fancy museum thing and everyone's being really weird anytime I'm nearby.I don't suppose there's a warrant out for my arrest or something??Can you look?Then,I know I got a bit of a write-up in the abayan media.Any chance something else has trickled out?Hit the tabloids?Because my gut was telling me that something had shifted, and I didn't know enough to understand what.I'dmetsome of these abaya, which meant that they should be comfortable enough to at least look at me.
Her response flared up a moment later, before I'd even had a chance to start fidgeting in earnest.No warrants – boring!None of my alerts have pinged for media references, but there is a great black market trade in knock-off Tournament merch with your face.Did you know someone made a bad toy of you?Not anatomically accurate.This was followed by a sad face, and I spared a moment to wonder how she knew – had she bought one?Did Valerie Prior have adollversion of me?– before I decided to save it for another time.
Cool, thanks for that.I'll just assume a good old-fashioned shunning then.At least it wasn't my first time being summarily ignored.
Feeling a little more settled – I could admit that talking to Val had that effect on me – I tapped the display off and slid one hand into a pocket, fiddling with the bracelets from Talvi.I looked longingly up the steps of the museum.It would feellessweird if I had a drink in my hand and some ancient art to gawk at, right?Or would that also feel awkward, because suddenly it would becomeextraclear that anytime I entered a room, I effectively killed all conversation within a twenty foot radius?I was just wondering how uncouth it would be to go find a shadow of myownto lurk in like the guards when I heard the sound of my own name, said somewhere in the distance.
I straightened, angling to look, and immediately schooled my face to an expression I'd often used at the den: polite detachment.There was media here, and I wasn't interested in making a scene.
Crozani of Creche Naival strode toward me, tall and broad-shouldered with a sword at one hip.I could feel the swivel of eyes in our direction, and I tipped my chin up a bit more."Greetings," I said carefully, holding myself precisely.The part of me that had spent a decade working the crowd at the den wanted to rush on and keep talking, but instead I carefully held my tongue.Besides, what would I say to Crozani?I told you to leave me the fuck alone?Somehow, I didn't think that was the right angle of approach, not tonight anyway.
