Threads of Emerald

Threads of Treachery: Chapter 14

I couldn't see much out of the window from where I was seated, but I saw the wonder that filled Ash's eyes as we heard chatter and laughter and light music as the carriage rolled to a gentle stop.

Finn got out first, doing a survey of the surrounding area with a predatory gaze and signalled that it was safe for us to descend the carriage steps.

A few stares were cast our way, but not nearly as many as when I was with Theodore. As my eyes adjusted to the blinding sunlight, I saw rows and rows of stalls, a rainbow of colours that seemed so much brighter against the white stone of the buildings behind. I could see stalls all the way down the road, cinnamon and chocolate and spices and vanilla gave the air a magnificent scent. The laughter and talking and gentle music played by a quartet in the middle of all of the stalls was a beautiful symphony of joy and life as Ash squeezed my arm as if to say: "We did it".

The joy from the carnival pushed against my skin, clearing my head of the questions that seemed imprinted on my mind every day, every minute, every second.

Why did father betray the Kingdom? What was I doing here? Where are mother and Aphina?

The peaks and falls of the music melted into the thrumming of my blood, the pulsing of my heart. The beautiful compositions of notes and symphonies blending into the crisp notes of lemon verbena and rosemary and chocolate floating on a delicate wind from the surrounding stalls. The crescendo hit, the symphonies and notes and sounds swirling and twirling and pirouetting through my body like a graceful dancer on a stage. Each note seemed to dredge up memories from my soul, positive, happy memories that brought the taste of happiness swirling in my mouth, like chocolate-covered strawberries. Catching salmon on the lake, mother and father dancing around in the glow of the fireplace, Rupert resting his chin between my shoulder and my neck as he wrapped his arms around my waist.

A small tear trickled down my cheek as I looked around, aware that Ash and Finn were buying raspberry tarts at the nearest stand, if only to give me a moment to delight in the music. That familiar heat tingled up my arm, the green vines peaking slightly out of the top of my gloves.

When the climax of the music hit, I could feel it deep within me, like an imprint of my soul, beneath my very skin. The tenderness of the music cracked into cold resolve as that shimmering veil of merriment that had fallen within was pierced by the sound of a whip cutting through air, cold steel cutting through skin, chains clanking against rock. Determination snapped into place like the breaking of a bone, that happiness extinguished by it like cold water sloshed over the burning embers of a fire.

The carnival was crammed with people. The pungent scents of cologne and perfume drifting from the well-tailored aristocrats mingling with the reek of sweat and piss from the underground slums well-hidden by the gleaming tiles of the street and well-trimmed cherry blossoms that swayed gently in the morning breeze. The carnival was a bright loom of colour and delicious fragrances that fizzled in the air as I passed stand after stand, looking for Ash, citrine, candy apples, sugar dust. I could see Finn leaning against a lamp post, a bored look on his face as he watched the crowds form a circle around a man on stilts that was juggling.

Ash was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps she'd used the opportunity to slip away as I was about to. Heading towards one of the gaps between two stalls selling lemon-infused water and hundreds of different types of tea, earl grey, green tea, white tea, oolong tea, I slipped down the narrow walkway and strode into one of the alleys. The sign I'd seen upon arriving hung limply at the entrance of the alley, Books, books, books, dating back to the Great War available at the Bookshop of Knowledge.

The slight scent of filth and muddied water turned the intoxicating scents of cinnamon and peach and honeycomb bitter as I spied the window display of the bookshop. The alley way was empty, the clogged streets and roads of the carnival drawing out all the residents of the capital city. The store front was beautiful, a complete contrast to the dirty grey stones of the alley and cobblestones soaked with what I hoped was water from the dripping gutters and not piss. The creamy blue of the storefront matched the slightly blue tint to the glass window panes that was filled with rows and rows of leather-bound books, candy pink peonies draping down the windows.