Page 164 of Starside

“You must leave. If the Astral Queen is helping you, then the gods are against you.” She’s right.

My chest fills with dread, thinking about that cavalry and bounty. And leaving in the darkness would be a death sentence—

“Eldress, Elder,” Este says, stepping forward. Her eyes are fierce, but her voice is polite. “We certainly can offer the mere basics of hospitality.” Her head dips. “They did find us, after all. Even with help … the gates appeared to them.” Pure and utter gratitude for Este smothers any lingering bitterness at the fact that her sister wanted to cut off my hair.

It seems there are rules, or traditions, as old as the Traveling City that must be adhered to. The Eldress lifts her chin. She looks over at the Elder, and I hope they both don’t decide to change the rules now.

“Very well. You can stay until first light. Then, you must go.” Her voice softens only slightly. “Tonight … rest, eat. Dance, if you’d like.”

I don’t think she understands how far away Raker is from ever dancing.

“Enjoy all the city has to offer, as our … esteemed guests.” She says that last part with more than a little reluctance. Then, she lifts a hand, and glimmering stardust falls from her fingers. “Welcome to the Traveling City, home of wonder and whimsy.”

She turns to go.

“My sword,” I say, stumbling forward, knowing I’m pushing my luck. “I’d … I’d like to speak with the blacksmith, if that’s okay.”

The Elder’s eyes move from Raker back to me. “He is currently … recovering. He should be able to see you tomorrow, before you leave.”

I glare at Raker.

The Eldress and Elder bow in unison before finally leaving us.

“Come,” Este says, still looking a little haunted. “Let’s get you some food.”

As much as I want to eat an entire feast, after consuming just a few fruits and vegetables, my stomach twists, as if it’s still adjusting to having something fill it. I excuse myself from the meal early and lie in bed, trying and failing to find sleep.

Hours later, I finally get up. If I’m not going to rest, I might as well explore this famous Traveling City. Maybe I can find something useful for either killing the gods … or speeding up our quest.

The stone floors, cold and smooth beneath my bare feet, are long shards of different shades of marble, like a giant mosaic I can’t fully see. The wooden railings are carved in legends, stories of battles long fought and won. The windows don’t have glass; they’re just gold arches that look out into a courtyard of trees brimming with endless flowers of every shade.

The palace is quiet. Most faelings must be sleeping. I should be sleeping too, I think, especially with the Eldress’s warning and her insistence that we leave first thing tomorrow, but instead I wander down the stone steps, and out into the night, knowing I’ll likely never get this chance again.

I walk down roads lined in thick oaks, so wide that houses have been carved into their trunks. Up above, strings of starlight glisten like an extra sky, draped over bridges that dart through the trees in half a dozen levels, each one looking like a completely different market. I imagine they house the world’s rarest, most coveted relics. Specks of silver cover most surfaces, making everything gleam like a galaxy.

Home of wonder and whimsy.

No wonder so many people try to find this place.

I keep walking until I reach the golden tree that sits in the center of the Traveling City. It has an energy. A force. A feeling. I reach out to touch one of its weak branches, hanging like hair. It’s surprisingly sturdy beneath my fingers. And the leaves—

They’re pure gold. My thumb runs across one of them in wonder.

“It’s a gild willow. Their bark is coveted. So is their nectar.” Este.

The faeling steps next to me, running her fingers over one of the branches. “Look,” she says, dropping it against another. It emits a high-pitched, beautiful ringing. “In a strong breeze, it’ll play a song.”

A song. My mother would have loved to see this tree. She would have loved every single thing in this Traveling City. So would my sister.

“You lost someone,” Este says, knocking me from my memories.

I turn to look at her.

She lifts a shoulder. “It’s the eyes. They’re hardened, like they can’t ever light up again. I lost my mother.” She nods and repeats herself. “You lost someone.”

I shake my head. “I lost … everyone.” I drop the branch, and the full note it emits is completely at odds with the hollowness of my heart.

“I’m sorry.” Este studies me. She must have guessed I’m on the Questral. “Pain is a powerful motivator, I suppose.”