Promise the Sky

Chapter 50

Chapter 50

Kiara

 

 

 

Pent up in a room like this, large as it may be, really does make Geraint seem like a wild animal. He paces in frustration, running hands through his silvery hair with quite a passion. He's not meant to be here, I can see it in his tired eyes and tight shoulders.

"No one," he spits.

What he means is simple enough; no one we've spoken to knows anything, and no one who knows anything has spoken. We couldn't even find Geraint's friend. It's not that the friend wouldn't see us, it is simply that he cannot be found. The doorman let us in, found us quarters in the sprawling expanse of this mansion-like townhouse, and left us to our own business.

Geraint has been on edge ever since.

I lean against Drake's shoulders and play idly with my fingers. Of all the people that have refused to see us, only one bothers me. Null. Null has been 'otherwise engaged' for three days and in those three days I have grown nearly as edgy as Geraint. We haven't spoken of it, it hasn't come up, but I look at him now, and I think he must surely know I am contemplating breaking my promises already.

Drake, sensing my attentions have returned to the topic, grows agitated, wrapping his tail around my ankle. He loves the city and he loves the attention the people here give him, but beyond the initial excitement, he has grown to treat it with growing caution. We do as Geraint says, he asserts, and that is that. He reeks of familiar, decisive certainty; serpentine and sure.

But what point is there in being here, if it is not to heal myself? This is the promise the Mirror City has embodied for me, ever since I first heard its name.

I look up, watching Geraint storm past Ella for the hundredth time, and feel instantly guilty. As Ella settles her eyes on me, the purple orbs filled with concern for whatever has caused the expression on my face, the knowledge that he can see me too is just too much. I stand suddenly, striding through wrought iron gates and into the garden.

Drake ambles after me. In his mind, my desire to be alone no longer excludes him.

Everything here is so big, so overwhelming. From simple things, like the houses all built to fit dragons, to scarily complex things, like the agendas and desires of the people that live here. Everyone wants more. I want more; I want magic. And the Gods know I deserve it.

I run my hands through flowering grasses until I come to the edge of a gently trickling fountain, carved in the same  pleasant stone as the rest of the city. I prop myself on the low wall that surrounds it and wait for Drake to slide his head into my lap.

If only my father were here. There are so many things that I never thought of before that suddenly seem so important, things I wished I'd had the forethought to ask him while he lived. This is the city of his birth, why did he leave it? Did he know Null? Did he know Geraint? I sigh. If he were here, I wonder, what would he have me do?

Drake rumbles sympathetically, nuzzling into my stomach. He still hasn't quite gotten the hang of this doubt thing but he understands that something is upsetting me, and it's enough to concern him. Dragons, I decide, were not built to even comprehend weakness.

I was though. I was born weak and magicless and cursed.

Catching the familiar thoughts as they run through my mind, I find myself flushed with sudden self-aimed anger. I was supposed to have left this behind.