Crystal Magic

Chapter 8. Daughter of the Sun

All her life, Sorrel had lived in a city. But she'd never seen a city quite like this. Every building looked more like an ivory palace, with pillars and parapets and stretching far above most of the buildings she had seen in the Avalon Archipelago, and even most parts of Hoffman.

"Watch your step now." Coppelius turned back to her and took her hand as she stepped off the ferry.

"Thanks." Sorrel nearly lost a sandal to the gap between the ferry and the stone dock, so she was grateful for the assist. She glanced around her, taking in her surroundings.

From every level hung colorful banner and streamers trimmed with golds. Passerby in silks and golden masks rushed about, cackling and leaping with the ecstasy Sorel only witnessed during the rowdier hours of Bonfire Night. Others carried large shopping bags and boxes with names and logos on the side that Sorrel had never seen before.

"Where are we, exactly?" She started following Coppelius through the crowds. He held tightly to her hand, keeping them together through the thousand faces.

"Carnivale, the high-end luxury district of Lemuria." Coppelius was looking around, clearly seeing something that she couldn't. "They say that there's at least one party every night on the Avalon Archipelago—but in Carnivale, there's one every hour."

"This isn't an archipelago, though, is it?" Sorrel noticed that instead of roads for hovercraft, there were water canals with bridges in-between that curved upwards to give watercraft much smaller than the ferry clearance.

"No, it was once an island, but I remember hearing about the construction efforts to create something more solid when it started sinking into the ocean."

Sorrel was struck by the sudden awareness that to passerby, one might assume that he was speaking about reading or learning about the construction that had likely taken place hundreds of years ago—the city looked old to Sorrel's young eyes.

But if he had been around when the Society of Worlds had been born, he'd likely seen or at least been alive when the reconstruction of Carnivale had occurred.

"You said that you sensed something that felt like your father."

Coppelius's steps had slowed as they entered a chokepoint in the pathways. Outside the buildings were haphazard tents and stalls, just like the main streets of the Avalon Archipelago. However, given the waterways and the narrow stone streets, it was more suffocating. Sorrel feared if she let go of Coppelius's hand even for a second, she would be lost in the sea of people.

"I did," he finally said. "I mean, I do."

He scanned ahead in the crowd, his eyes strangely blank. "I don't understand—he should be here. He should be close. It feels like the sun, it's so bright. Not even the sword was like this. . ."

Sorrel frowned, and opened her mouth to ask what was wrong. Then she felt it. Like the tugging of a string, a glimmer in the corner of her eye. Nothing she could point to as an obvious source or cue.

But she turned her head and saw her.

There was a small alleyway between buildings, with a trickle of people opting to pass through there than continue to brave the main street. By the third backdoor was one makeshift tent. A deep purple trimmed with gold, it was striking against the ancient gray columns. On the floor of the tent was a colorful rug made of a similar material to Sorrel's dress and several cushions. Sitting on the rug was was the girl, no older than Sorrel herself.

She was radiant—there was no other word for her. Most striking about her was the white-blonde hair that glowed like Coppelius's, woven into a braid that curled around her on the floor with sea-glass and ribbon entwined in her tresses. Around her neck and wrists dangled crystals and pendants.