The Chimera

Chapter Eighteen: The Repelling Force of Patriotism

The city council had summoned all volunteers and gift recipients to a farewell banquet, an invitation that Giada wasted little time in declining.

"Are you sure they won't find that rude?" Fallon asks, wringing his hands when Giada had told him of her refusal.

"What will they do about it? Banish us? That's not exactly an option anymore."

Giada knows herself: she wouldn't be able to sit through a banquet supposedly in their honor without her anger boiling over, likely snapping the stem off a goblet or cracking a utensil with her newfound strength. The council could pile her plate with all the rich food they had to offer; it wouldn't make her hate them less.

She loves the archives. Edeline loves the observatory, and Hilo above it. Rian enjoys his work as a merchant's clerk. Fallon, sixteen now, has finished his lessons at the academy and had been hoping to apprentice himself to an apothecary. Dead dreams now, all.

On the morning of their departure, Rian waits outside while his siblings wander their rooms one last time. He doesn't want to give himself over to sentiment, and stands instead in the fresh, bracing air to clear his head.

It's only an hour or so after dawn, but he expects company to arrive soon. The group bound for Sunset Citadel will meet at the Taymon cottage, where an armed escort of a dozen soldiers will deliver them to their new home in the west. By the time of their evening meal, they'll be dining in the citadel.

Rian looks to the trees at the back of the cottage, where a specter had emerged for a destructive visit the year before. His left shoulder, long-healed, feels a phantom pain at the memory. For a second, Rian is gripped by a completely irrational sense of terror. He stares right into the autumn trees, taking in their mingling yellows, oranges, and reds, until the feeling passes. Steady breaths, in and out, then he turns away.

Along the westbound path, two figures walk side by side, approaching the cottage. Rian recognizes them as Hilo and Marikit, the jeweler who had first caught sight of Fallon's note so long ago.

"Good morning, Rian," Hilo calls, smiling cheerfully despite the early hour and wearing a pack along his back. Marikit has a bag as well, but her unruly hair and swollen eyes indicate that the morning clearly agrees with her less. Rian responds with his own greetings, trying to cover his confusion. He had expected Hilo and Marikit to come see Edeline off, but not to be bringing along packs of their own.

After being let in through the gate, Hilo asks him, "Where's your sister? Is she doing all right?"

"She's inside with Giada and Fallon, saying their goodbyes to the house." Hilo knows him well enough not to ask why isn't doing the same.

Beside them, Marikit runs a hand through her hair, thick and black and falling just past her ears. She is sharp-featured, her skin tan from long hours spent on the sunbathed pier, and her face bears a constellation of freckles clustered on her nose and dusting past her cheeks. Rian has always been a little awed by her; she is intimidatingly competent.

Now, though, she has a concentrated frown, her thoughts beyond them.

"Does anyone else hear that?" she asks abruptly.

Hilo and Rian still, straining their ears. A scrabbling, clawing sound reaches them, coming from somewhere above their heads. Rian looks up at the cottage's roof. He hears a sudden slide of movement followed by a well-remembered whistling sigh. He freezes, stars exploding in his head, hammering against every part of him that can feel fright.

"Is that--" Hilo's harsh whisper trails off.

Marikit springs into movement. Bringing her pack off her shoulder, she rifles through it until she yanks out a long, sheathed knife. She brings the knife to her teeth and bites down, keeping it in place as she throws her pack onto the ground and pulls off her overcoat as well.