Whispering Death

Chapter 4

The festival grounds were busy with people preparing. Shop stalls, food venders, and tents were set up in a half crescent. Circles made of rope marked off small performance spaces for acts and entertainers along the path ways to tables and seats. In the center was a stage with an opening for dancing. Musicians were already practicing a few jigs while children danced. Drina smiled from the entrance, watching the children bump into each other carelessly, laughing and cheering.

It was easy to view the entire grounds from the street outside the city. Little fence lines of royal purple flags with gold trim led you right to the giant welcome banner. Each flag had the Steaua Lunii symbol, a full moon with a wax and waning moon connecting on each side. The string of flags hung from poles around the entire fair ground and hung in front or beside each structure.

Slowly Drina made her way through the fairground, nodding at those who stopped working to observe her presence. There were still a few hours before the festival would officially begin, so many villages weren't allowed to roam the grounds unless they had official business. To Drina, she felt at home. Walking freely at her own pace, unafraid of those around her, and willing to make eye contact with confidence. She knew they would know in an instant she was one of them. Not many people would brazenly walk among them without fear or judgment.

Very soon, Drina was greeted with smiles. A few of the elders would kiss the tip of their fingers, offer it above them, then extend it out towards her. It was a traditional greeting of blessing, then Drina would reply by kissing her own fingers, offering it below and across. "Bless the heavens above, and the lands below you." Although being able to interact with her people felt nostalgic, Drina knew to be wary.

In the very far back part of the grounds, Drina could see several carriages and the tip of a large tent. It was most likely where the bands of gypsies slept. Close to the pathway ahead sat two shaggy looking dogs guarding it. As she approached, the mutts sat alert, watching her every move. Behind them, several more appeared out of the shadows to roam around.

Oh a traveler's life, Drina huffed flatly. Memories of her childhood began to flood her of the times she moved around with her family band. Constantly living in small herds, clustering in safe havens with other bands, still keeping to themselves while protecting each other. And then there were the Travellers mutts. Gypsy dogs were a special kind of breed that looked like a regular canine to the naked eye. You could never tell what specific mixed breeds it had, and often they would come in various sizes of cur. For those who knew better, they weren't just any mutt; they were spirit dogs.

In the dark, a glow within their eyes flickered dimly, revealing their nature of shadow and magic. Any Traveller worth their salt had one. However, mutts were the most troublesome breed to handle. Mutts didn't eat physical food, instead they feasted on their owner's soul well, the source of their power. If Drina wasn't constantly worrying about money, food, or shelter for the two of them, she would consider a mutt for herself. The wealth of her soul-well was deep and the mutt would offer security while being out in the wild. Irrationally, she argued that the reason she didn't want one was because of her fear to contain and control her power. The truth, however, was because she hated dogs. Had they been ravens instead, she would've bought one in seconds.

Without stopping, Drina walked between the two mutts. A small shiver ran up her spine as she passed, but they did not move. Continuing down the path, it ran between several clusters of bands, each one represented by different sigils and crests. So far, there were none that she recognized, which also didn't give much comfort. Several mutts in between clusters would step out of the shadow to pause and watch, their eyes glowing red. Finally up ahead, Drina could see the central tent with three dogs on guard, expectantly waiting for her to approach.