Of Starlight and Gold

Chapter Twelve

The city was alive when Arlyn and Onyx broke out of the Temple of Donis. The sky had gone from a powdery blue to a deep navy, though there were no stars embedded in the navy fabric. The city lights, candle-lit street lamps, restaurants and cafes teeming with customers, the warm light blotted out the stars above. Music slammed into Arlyn, and a surge of people and familiars flooded the street in front of the temple. Cheering, laughing, singing. The smell of sharp spices, sweet pastries and beer mingled in the air. All in celebration of the princess' birthday.

The High Priestess— Arlyn started. Panic started to creep into his blood, threatening to drag him under.

I know. Keep going, Onyx ordered. This way.

She wove through people like water while Arlyn pushed his way through. The crowd was a current in and of itself, and soon enough, Arlyn was caught up in the waves. Distance increased between him and his familiar, the line between them going taut. Panic flared through Arlyn. The crowd was going to pull them further apart.

Arlyn?

Onyx's voice in his head was tinged with worry. Arlyn couldn't seem to get a decent breath in as he scanned his surroundings. So many people, crushing together. It was a wonder more people didn't lose their familiars.

Onyx, come back...you're too far, he said, his heart stuttering.

People crushed in around him, the densely packed street suddenly too narrow to accommodate the influx of celebrations. The perfect place to lose the High Priestess. And familiars, apparently. Music and laughter coalesced into a deafening roar that grated his senses. The cacophony of colours, the crushing smell of body odor, spices and incense that fouled the contents of his stomach. He shook his head, unable to escape the feeling and he knew it wasn't just because of the distance between him and his familiar.

Where are you?

Onyx... Arlyn felt faint, rivulets of sweat trickling down his face and his back.

There at the end of the street loomed a large, wooden statue of one of the gods. Arlyn blinked, trying to see who it was, but his vision narrowed, black pushing against his line of sight.

"Look! It's Persi," a little girl next to him exclaimed, "mama, are we going to give offerings to Persi?"

Persi. Goddess of children, women and mothers. Of course it would be Persi, given that it was the princess' birthday. Arlyn blinked, the roaring in his ears dwindling into a high-pitched ringing. He lost track of the child and her mother, lost at sea once more.

Get to the bakery with the blue awning. You see it?

There it was, only a block away. Arlyn gritted his teeth, fighting against the claws digging into his lungs, crushing each breath. He pushed through the people, aiming for the thin path between the people and the buildings. Protests from those he shoved past were swallowed up by the crowd.

His hands smacked into the brick wall of the nearest building as he broke free. The sharp sting sliced through the disorientation just enough for Arlyn to slump against the wall and draw in a long, deep breath. He ran a trembling, sweaty hand through his hair and stared at the procession of people. Everyone was beelining for the giant, wooden Persi, her hands spread in serene welcome. Crown Princess Briah's transition from a child to a woman meant a big celebration for Persi as well. Offerings would be made to honour Persi and to thank her for caring for Abreathia's heir.

There are so many people, Arlyn said.

Everyone loves the princess, Onyx replied, now, hurry up. We need to get out of here before the Mad God's priestesses find us.