Always To Ashes

Angel Queen

Chapter Nine: 

The night was alive with fireflies and the thick smell of clove incense. The moon dangled above, a dim, distant crescent of light in the dark sky. Chasers were crammed into every available space, an edge of excitement traveling on the hum of their voices. Children darted to and fro, swinging their fake swords as their laughter filled the air. You never would’ve guessed that, a mere week ago, these streets ran like rivers of blood.

“Oh - can I get cotton candy?” I asked excitedly, spotting a vendor across the way. It was easily the loveliest impossibility I’d laid eyes on. The strict Chasers indulging in something as frivolous as whipped sugar - it was ridiculous enough to be comical.

“I believe that’s for the children,” Chance said pointedly. It was the most movement I’d seen out of him in the last hour. Chance was an expert at standing still, more proficient at it than some statues, it seemed. I would’ve thought it was a Chaser thing, but Rowena clearly did not possess that skill. She’d drifted away some time ago, slipping into the crowd like a willowy specter. Last I’d seen her, she’d been laughing and tossing her fiery hair about as she shot down the advances of the local boys.

Tabby remained however, though she was quite fidgety in comparison to Chance’s stone stillness. My mouse like tutor had occupied our time on the curb by fiddling with the ring on her right hand, the only jewelry she ever wore. The garnet stone flickered in the dull light of the lamps above as she twisted it from side to side.

“There’s no age limit on cotton candy,” I persisted, adjusting my shimmering skirt. The humidity was causing the mesh material to stick to my legs in a way I wouldn’t have tolerated from a dress even a speck less amazing.  I’d donned a particularly nice dress for the occasion; a stormy grey number adorned with copper sparkles that made it shine like the stars.

“Just stay here,” Chance ordered sternly. Following the Raicho raid, Chance had been so on edge, he was in serious danger of falling off. He’d taken to pacing the house at night, but  to what end I wasn’t sure. I’d begun to wonder if he ever slept at all. “Where I can keep an eye on you. The War Lord Centenary is an event of utmost importance and I can’t have you fucking it up.”

“Jesus, Chance,” Tabby interjected. She’d been staring off at nothing, probably conjugating russian verbs or reciting the Chaser code in her head, but had turned her attention to us unexpectedly. “What do you really think is going to happen?

“I don’t know,” he replied, the flickering street light casting shadows on his stern expression, causing the scar by his eye to glimmer like silver. “And that’s the problem. If anyone could single handedly mess this up, it’s Ash.”

I pondered his words for a moment, bouncing up and down on the balls of my feet. The glittery heels I wore did nothing to hamper the height difference between me and Chance who, as always, wore heavy leather boots despite the fact that the temperature was pushing ninety. “I’ve decided to take that as a compliment,” I announced.

“Maybe it was,” he said without infliction, looking out vigilantly over the street, as if he was personally responsible for its well being. Looking at him, I found my mind wandering from notions of cotton candy to the day of the raid. Just before the Raicho had arrived, Chance and I had shared an intimate moment in the laundry room. Never had I seen him look so vulnerable, so human. It was the only time he’d ever let me touch him outside of training. He’d treated me then, not as a ‘Tink,’ or a burden, or an outsider but as a friend.

My ponderings were drowned out by the trumpeting of horns as they filled the air, serving as some sort of  secret symbol that caused all the Chasers to snap to attention. If I hadn’t already, I would’ve realized then what a big deal this even was. Tabby had gone on a huge tangent about it in our lessons the day prior.  The War Lord Centenary was a meeting that took place only once every hundred years between the Big Three Warlords. The Regina, queen of the Faeries, the Alpha, leader of the Werewolves, and the Korol would all meet in one location to discuss the conflict, as if they had plans to resolve it, and then the next day, the bloodshed would begin again. By the sounds of it, the entire enterprise seemed like a ruse, a mockery of civility, but Tabby insisted it was a direly sacred event.