FOURTH BOOK OF THE CHRONICLES OF FANTASILIA SERIES
𝘈 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘭. 𝘈 𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘦. 𝘈 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵. 𝘈 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦.
Xanthiene Vivenca, a fairy with a bounty for her soul, is caught between...
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Xanthy glanced at Nyxis every now and then. Her heart twinged with that scowl etched on his face that she wasn't sure how to erase. Should she comment on how ugly he looked with that expression? She clenched her jaw. No. That would make him yammer on. That's something they couldn't afford now.
They stepped off the house, throwing Xanthy into the haze of how security lockdowns in Lanteglos looked like. Red coats, a characteristic of every Imperial soldier, zipped here and there, marching in platoons of twenty or more. Each bore either swords, spears, staffs, or portable crossbows that glinted against the afternoon sun. Then, with a grunt from Nyxis, they set off into the cobbled streets, aiming east for Ansevir, the first city in Dwanzeig that connected to Nanvera.
An hour later, Xanthy yanked her hood lower for the fifth time. Better be safe than sorry. Just a few distances more. She wrinkled her nose at the flowery smell the cloak clasped around her neck had. Wherever Nyxis procured these garments was another mystery she didn't want to know.
Xanthy trained her gaze at Nyxis's back as he led her past Nanvera's vast galleries and closed shops for trinkets and textiles. A similar cloak sat upon Nyxis's shoulders with its hood thrown up to cover his face as well. It showed off the human's strong shoulders. Blood rushed to Xanthy's cheeks. She shouldn't even be thinking of that at this moment and at this point in her life.
This part of Nanvera was more crowded with residential houses where the workers from the galleries and other shop owners lived. That also meant more red coats at every turn and alley. Still, it was better than the open squares in central Nanvera.
Xanthy fixed the arm that snaked around June's waist as she helped him hobble across the roads. Whatever Nyxis fed him earlier was enough to get him to his feet but not to have him running. June's breath tickled Xanthy's ear as she half-dragged, half-carried him across the street to follow Nyxis. He gave her a weak smile that immediately turned into a wince.
That became their pattern for a while—running, hiding, looking over corners, signaling each other to stop or go on ahead. Xanthy cursed. With her lugging June around, they moved like an old man. Her eyes widened as a real old man overtook them in one of the alleys they traversed, muttering about how slow Xanthy was.
Xanthy swallowed her sentiments against the old man. Yelling wouldn't help their cause. In fact, it would make things harder for them.
Nyxis's dark cloak swayed with the humid breeze as he tore through a narrow alley free of red coats. The musky air and the dust being stirred by the passing wind reminded Xanthy of the Commons all too well. It was neither a pleasant place nor a good memory.
At least then June was active enough to run on his own.
Xanthy got to where Nyxis was when the human's arm shot forward and flattened Xanthy against an ocher wall. The sound of boots hitting cobblestones and metal weapons clanking resounded from beyond the corner. Xanthy strained her ears as the voices floated and mixed with the wind.
