Flames Like Vines

The Party, Part 1

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

This is a companion story to ICE LIKE FIRE, the sequel to SNOW LIKE ASHES. I say "companion" as it parallels the beginning events of ICE LIKE FIRE -- and as such, you will find a few minor spoilers for ICE LIKE FIRE.

If you are the sort of reader who screeches in horror at the thought of a spoiler of any kind, LOOK AWAY NOW.

But if you are the sort of reader who flips through the pages of a book, perusing lines here and there before you've quite finished it yet...well, read on, dear rebel reader. Read on.

***

The only part of Simon's celebrations that Ceridwen enjoyed was the color. Preben Palace exploded in gold and red and orange, banners hanging from the rafters, fires raging in alcoves, great tufts of fabric twirled around sandstone columns. The gown she'd chosen for this celebration mimicked the decorations, a tight-fitting gold silhouette that cut off just below her collarbone with a thick band of brown jewels. Servants buzzed around, hanging balls of aromatic herbs from the ceiling and putting vases of fresh pink hibiscus on tables in all the halls. It was the only time of year when Juli's palace looked grand and gleaming, like the rubble and ruins were a part of the design, not the result of laziness.

Ceridwen leaned against a column on the edge of the hall, absorbing the warmth of the fireplace behind her and the stars twinkling in the sky above. The celebration hall had no ceiling, just four stories of mezzanines wrapping over them until it all ended in a great sweep of brilliant black sky. Mixed with the vibrant decorations and the natural explosions of fire-red Summerian hair, it was beautiful.

Ceridwen held her breath like she'd done so many times before. If she never exhaled, time would stay in this one perfect moment, when she could remember how many caravans she had freed this month. When she could remember all the relieved faces, not the faces she would see all too soon, dragged into Simon's celebration and stripped of their humanity.

The captured breath burned in Ceridwen's lungs. None of the dignitaries around shared her fear of losing this moment. They only saw this moment, and for that Ceridwen envied them. Their ability to be so short-sighted, to see only the platters of food, the cushioned chairs, and the pretty servants, to hear only laughter, musicians rapping on drums, and the tinkling of goblets in toasts.

Lekan carried a tray of sliced pineapple up and down the rows of tables, smiling politely at the aristocrats. He wore the outfit of a server: baggy orange pants that were tightened with gold ribbon around his ankles, leaving his chest and arms bare but for two twisting gold cuffs that bent into sunbursts on his biceps. He looked no different from the other male servants, body sculpted from a life of servitude, smiling and entertaining guests like he actually cared about their happiness.

He saw Ceridwen watching him and his mask of happiness flickered away. He balanced the tray on one hand and pressed the index finger of his other to the spot just below his ear.

I need to speak to you.

Flame and heat. Ceridwen exhaled, the breath leaving her and taking with it the warmth of joy she had tried so desperately to hold.

She left the column and moved to a table against the wall piled high with Simon's favorite dishes. Smooth peanut and sweet potato stew cradled in fist-sized bread bowls, layers of thin shells that could be filled with any of dozens of meats and sauces, and, of course, vats of the finest Summerian wine, aged to dry perfection in the southern vineyards. She picked up a bread bowl, the nutty-sweetness of it making her empty stomach flip over, and waited.

Lekan stopped on her right, his tray half-empty. "Can I get you anything, milady?"

She shoved the bread bowl at him. "This soup is cold," she snapped loudly enough for the nearby dignitaries to hear.

Lekan took the bowl and set it on the table beside her. "I'll get you a fresh one. Is there anything else I can get you? We received a delivery of bread from Ventralli, an unexpected arrival not on our regular routes, but King Simon is pleased with its quality."

A second delivery. Not on our regular routes.

There had been another caravan of Ventrallans—and thisone had gotten through to Summer. 

***

Part 8 will be up this Thursday! And to read more about Ceridwen, check out ICE LIKE FIRE, out 10/13/15!