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Soon enough, the fishmonger steered his boat into the town harbor, drawing it up alongside one of the docks. The dockworker greeted him with cheerful familiarity, but he pulled up short at the sight of us. The fishmonger spoke rapidly to him, and whatever he said must have put him at ease, because he allowed us to dock, and sent us on without a fuss.
We made to part ways with the fishmonger, but he gestured for us to follow him, refusing to take no for an answer. Disconcerted, I looked to Quye, but to my surprise, she looked delighted by whatever he’d said.
“He says he’s going to take us to someone who can speak our language,” she told me, her eyes sparkling. “That’s got to be the dragons!”
“Or it could be a trap,” I argued, but she had already started off, following the fishmonger through the harbor square. I hurried after her so I wouldn’t lose them in the throng—this was a busy place full of market stalls selling mostly seafood, but also various trinkets and wares. The fishy smell mixed with the scents of sweat and people, as well as other foreign smells I didn’t recognize. As we left the harbor, the fishy scent faded, replaced by the scents of strange spices and an underlying note of urine.
The buildings here were sand-colored, with spade-shaped doorways and windows bordered in geometric patterns. The roofs were tiled in the same azure as the stones that formed the city's footpaths, winding through the capital like glittering streams. We followed the fishmonger through the winding streets, past fountain squares and market stalls and other places of business. Everywhere we went, people leaned out of doors and windows to stare, but unlike the farmer, they weren’t afraid to approach. We quickly attracted an entourage, and by the time the fishmonger led us into the plaza in the center of the town, hundreds of townsfolk surrounded us.
“I’m definitely going with the deity theory,” Quye said with a grin as they began pressing small gifts of food, soaps, and candles into our hands. Not wanting to offend, I tried my best to smile and thank each person, but it was becoming a struggle. My arms were nearly full to bursting with items, and there was no room to even set them down so I could put them in my pack. Panic started brewing inside me at having so many strange people pressing in close, and I began turning this way and that, desperately looking for an escape.
A piercing whistle cut through the din, and the crowd quieted, the sea of heads turning away from me and toward the sound. A path opened up to reveal a tall, muscular man striding through the crowd toward us. His bald head gleamed in the sun, and his torso was bare save for a gold torque inlaid with blue gemstones that draped across his neck and chest. He wore a cream-colored garment that swished around his legs as he walked, covering him from waist to ankle, and carried a wooden staff carved with geometric symbols similar to the ones we saw on the buildings.
“I’m guessing this guy is a priest or something,” I muttered to Quye as the people bowed, the crowd rippling like a wake as he passed by.
The priest stopped a few feet in front of us and addressed the fishmonger. The male bowed deeply, then began to speak, practically tripping over his words as he pointed and gestured at us. Unlike the others, the priest didn’t react at all, his expression stoic as he patiently waited for the fishmonger to finish. But something about the set of his face told me that our presence disconcerted him.
The priest said something to the fishmonger that made him smile wide, then bow again. He gently tapped his staff against the man’s shoulder, and the crowd cheered. Then he turned to us, and my mouth dropped open as he addressed us in our own language.
“Welcome to the Kingdom of Palmyria,” he said, his words heavily accented but completely understandable. “I am Iman, High Priest of Sobek-Ra. It must have been quite the journey to get here from your realm. What are your names, and what has brought you here?”
“I… I’m Adara,” I said, scrambling for my composure. “And this is my friend, Quye. We’re looking for our kin… the dragons who came here twenty years ago.” Or at least I hoped it was twenty years ago. Did time pass the same in this place as it did back home? My stomach lurched as I realized I hadn’t thought about that. What if we returned to the portal, but missed Einar because of the time difference? How would we get back home then? “Do you know where they are?”
“Your kin?" he repeated, his jade eyes sweeping over us. They were lined in some kind of black pigment, making them stand out even more against his tanned skin. “You don’t look like kin.”
“Ahh, but that means you do know them,” Quye said, wagging a finger at the priest. “You’re right that I’m not kin, but Adara is.”
The priest cast a glance at the crowd, who were watching us with bated breath. It occurred to me that in their eyes, they were witnessing their high priest talk with living, breathing, in-the-flesh gods. This was a historic moment for them—probably the most exciting thing that had ever happened in their lives.
“Perhaps we can discuss this further in the sanctity of the temple,” the priest said carefully. “With some refreshments.”
“That sounds perfect,” Quye chimed in. “Please lead the way, High Priest.”
We followed the High Priest to the temple looming above the plaza, the crowd parting for us once more. They all bowed low as we passed, and the back of my neck prickled under the weight of their stares.
I couldn’t help but be impressed as I took in the temple’s facade. It was built of stone, with tall pillars carved into crocodile heads lining the entryway. The entrance was a massive archway, flanked on either side by towering obelisks. The walls were covered in intricate hieroglyphs and depictions of crocodiles, all painted in gemlike blues, greens, and golds.
“My apologies for the commotion,” the priest said once we were inside. A hushed silence filled the space, and the cool, shadowy atmosphere was a welcome relief after the heat we’d endured. “As you might surmise, my people are unused to foreign visitors such as yourselves. They believe the gods have sent you to us.”
I glanced sidelong at Quye, whose eyes were gleaming with suppressed amusement as we followed the priest through the hall. The torches lining the walls flickered in the dim light, casting long shadows across the floor. Each breath I took filled my nostrils with the smell of incense, and as we ventured further in, the sound of faint, rhythmic chanting reached my ears.
At the end of the hall, the priest stopped to address a temple servant. The servant bobbed his head furiously at whatever the priest told him, then bowed low before scurrying off.
“I’ve ordered the servants to prepare a feast to celebrate your arrival,” he explained at my quizzical glance.
“That’s very kind of you, but unnecessary,” I said, feeling uneasy again. Unlike Quye, I wasn’t comfortable with the idea of these people treating me like a deity. I might come from royalty back in my own world, and I had strange and powerful magic, but that didn’t mean I wanted to be an object of worship or allow these people to become attached to me. I just wanted to get what I came here for and get home to Einar.
A wave of heartsickness hit me at the thought of Einar, but I shoved it back as the priest led us into a sitting room off the main hall. It was a small, but opulent space, fit for a high priest or visiting dignitary. I supposed Quye and I technically qualified as both. Oil lamps lit the space, illuminating the comfortable chairs and couches scattered throughout the room. They were all upholstered in rich fabrics and piled high with very inviting-looking pillows.
We’d only just sat down when two servants bustled into the room, carrying a golden tea service and a platter of fruit, bread, and dried meats. My stomach growled at the sight of the food, and it was all I could do not to snatch several pieces off the plate and stuff them in my mouth all at once.
“Please, help yourselves,” the priest said once the servants had poured our tea. “I’m sure you are hungry from your travels.”
“Thank you for your hospitality,” Quye said as we loaded up our small plates. The servants shut the door behind them, giving us privacy. “We appreciate your kindness, especially given that we’re strangers.”
“Of course,” the priest said. He studied us over the rim of his teacup as he sipped his drink, his dark gaze unfathomable. “Now, what is it you came here for?”
“I’m trying to find my kin, the dragons,” I told him. “They have important information I need to solve a problem in my home world. Many lives depend on it. Can you tell me where they are?”
