The Adventure of Fel

chapter three

ONE MOON LATER

"Fel, no cats in the house."

"Dad! They're my friends. Would you tell me no friends in the house?"

"I would if they were shedding everywhere."

"Fine."

I push my chair back from my spot at the kitchen table and stand up, giving Dad a hug from where he leans against the counter. I drop one last bit of omelette on the ground for Leo to practically inhale before grabbing my wallet off of the table.

"I'll see you later, Dad. Come on guys. I'll buy you some fish."

Outside, I tuck my wallet into the large pocket of my skirt and wait for the cats to catch up. The weather's picture-perfect; it's warm, but not too hot, with only a few careless clouds in the sky. The perfect day to walk to the Market. The lake crashes softly in my ears, better than any song I've ever heard.

As we walk, I take in all the happy things about Burr. Children play tag and tumble, but the soft grass cushions their falls. The tall communal buildings, scattered about in no particular order, watch over me as I pass, people young and old leaning out of their windows to water flower boxes and wave to neighbors. Above me, a few Forest Dragons fly by in their familiar circle formation, making their routine migration from Hopper Forest to an island off the coast of the Kingdoms.

It's mildly suffocating.

After about a mile we approach the first booth, a young boy, maybe only fourteen, selling muffins. He looks nervous as I scan the options - it must be his first day working. I remember when I first helped my parents with their jewelry booth; I was a disaster and somehow managed to break one of the rings while showing it off to a customer. Needless to say, I don't work there very often.

"Chocolate, please," I say, scanning for the largest muffin before pointing. The boy rushes to get it for me, placing it in a white paper bag and practically shoving it at my chest.

"Thirteen Bronze, ma'am."

"Here, keep the change." I give him the friendliest smile I can before walking away. I look up and scan the hills before me. For the next mile or so there are only a few scatterings of booths here and there, but I know that after that, we'll reach the heart of the Market - practically the heart of Burr.

"You shouldn't get chocolate, you know. It means you can't share."

I stare down at Leo and raise my eyebrows before making a big show of taking a bite of my muffin. We laugh and carry on. For some reason, I really feel like throwing my money around. Maybe it's the Spring air, or the need to do something different, but suddenly every booth looks interesting. It takes all of my self control (and some borrowed from Gwen) to not stop every minute or so.

We walk until the sun burns brighter, signaling midday. After the muffin, fish for the cats, and a very nice new journal, my wallet is suspiciously light.

"Ready to head back?" I ask. Leo nods, but when I look down, Gwen is nowhere to be found.

"Hey! Gwen? Where's Gwen?" I turn around, not a good idea in a massive crowd, and feel my arm bump into something.

"Sorry!" I say, though I'm not sure who I hit. I scan the crowd, hand over my eyes to block the sun, until finally I catch sight of brown fur.

I pick up the pace, hitching up my skirt, until I reach my friend. She's standing by a rather tiny wooden booth adorned with at least fifty hooks. On each hook hangs a bag - I follow Gwen's gaze to one in particular. It's a backpack, dark brown with lots of pockets. I feel it - it's waterproof.

"Isn't it great?" Gwen says proudly, pink nose in the air.

"Yeah..." I lift it off of the rack, making eye contact with the boothtender, an older woman, to let her know I won't try to steal it. I unzip it and look inside - it looks bigger than you'd think from the outside.

"It's nice, Gwen, I really do love it, but it's probably really expensive - "

My eye catches the front pocket. I lean in quickly. It can't be - yes. Stitched into the fabric in a light brown is a tiny but unmistakable lioness head. I yank the bag off of the rack and practically throw it onto the counter.

"How much?" I ask the boothtender. She leans forward onto her elbows.

"Fifty Bronze."

"Excuse me, ma'am, but how are you expecting to make any business with those kinds of prices?"

"Just waiting for the rich folks from the City, I suppose."

"You're going to be waiting a long time, then. I'll give you fifteen Bronze and my bracelet."

"Twenty."

"Fine." I slam the money and my jewelry in front of her and turn away, moving off to the side before kneeling down to the cats' level.

"That was abrupt," Leo says. "It's just a bag. A really expensive bag."

"No, Leo, look!" I jab my finger at the symbol. "It's the same one as from the map Mom and Dad got me!"

"Ok, so they're from the same designer," Leo says, lifting his paw to lick it. He appears relaxed, but his twitching tail tells me he's at least intrigued.

"Maybe. But I kind of feel like this bag was meant for me. It's meant for something...I don't know, awesome."

"I agree," Gwen says. I meet her eyes, surprised.

"Really?"

"Absolutely. I'm tired of seeing you mope. If it's a bag that makes you happy, I'm all for it."

I stand up and rub Gwen's head.

"I'm glad someone supports my extravagant spending." I sling the bag over my shoulders and feel it fall comfortably onto my back. I struggle with the straps to make it hang lower as we walk, loving the feel of the material.

When we get home, the sky is just starting to turn a dusty pink. I sit at the kitchen table, splitting my time between admiring the sky and admiring my bag. I watch as the moon and stars overtake the sunset. I can see the light glisten off of the City's glass buildings all the way from here, despite the lake between us.

"I haven't seen Ivy in over a moon," I whisper to no one. My parents are both already in bed - it's an off day for them, and whenever they have breaks, they're usually spent sleeping. The cats went out to hunt as soon as I got home. It's just me. Me, and the stars. The twinkling lights send a chill down my spine, and fill my stomach with a feeling light as air. A desire - a desire to go somewhere.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow I'll go to the City and visit Ivy. Just a day trip - I'll take the ferry. I haven't been to the City in quite a few moons, and I clearly need to get out of the village for a little bit.

You're putting off your future, I think to myself. You already wasted today.

But is a day really wasted if I laughed and smiled? If I ate a chocolate muffin and bought a really nice bag? Sure, it's not like I looked into any schools, but it's still Spring. I have at least ten moons before I'm twenty-one.

I get up and close the kitchen window, taking a moment to stick my hand outside and feel the humid air, air that tastes sweet as it hits the back of my throat. Caramel air.

Upstairs, I hang up my new bag next to my mirror and grin. I toss some leftover muffin into my mermaid's jar and collapse into bed on my stomach, hands clutching the pillow. Tomorrow I'll get out of here, just for a little bit. A tiny part of me worries that it won't be enough. That I'll get home and still feel that urge to...explore. To be lost.

But it has to be enough. I have a life to get back to.

I open my eyes and count ceiling tiles until I finally, finally fall asleep.