Chapter 24: The Angel Wing
They’d already stopped by the grumpy tailor this morning to retrieve their outfits. He had dark rings under his eyes from working through the night, but they had paid him well, and he retired to the back, uncharacteristically quiet.
Rather than return to Selia’s, they’d instead changed there, Mitty storing their clothes in her cloak’s pockets before heading up the central spire. Apparently, you weren’t allowed into the spire without an invitation from the royal family. Fortunately, the invitation Selia had given her counted.
She was apparently well liked by just about everyone in the city and had done contract work on the palace more than once, resulting in a positive relationship with the local powers, and by extension, an invitation to most events.
They were currently waiting at The Angel’s Repose, a chimera of a bar, lounge and restaurant wrapped into one with a pristine white and silver aesthetic. It was also adjacent to a wide hole in the tower wall, where a glass bridge jutted outwards, halfway towards the halo. There was still an hour before the bridges met, but they’d come early in case any issues arose.
None had, and they’d not even needed to prove their identity, just answer a couple questions the guards posed. “Do you intend to cause trouble or harm in Windcrown? Was your invitation to this event given freely? Are you smuggling in a cat?” All pretty basic.
Since she knew the guards could sense mistruths, she framed her mind carefully when answering the questions. She of course never intended trouble, but it always found her, Selia had given her the invite freely, and she wasn’t smuggling herself in if she was invited. Which she was.
As guests of the queen the reception was free, which Dantes was taking full advantage of. She’d told him she would be making the promised food under the veil of the Aurora, which would be well after supper. She’d prepared two sets of ingredients for the soufflé in case something went wrong, more being pointless as she only had two Featherfish remaining, which was the limiting ingredient. Apparently, they were only found near Dorry, being extremely rare outside that so her attempts at securing more had been in vain.
She’d practiced with regular fish already, and was confident in the taste, but she wanted the magical effect to be perfect too. Everything would be perfect this time.
They lounged, Dantes scarfing shrimp by the dozen, watching the guests stream in as the morning passed by. Lots of fancy clothes, and despite being no less well dressed than the others, she couldn’t help but feel out of place.
She fought the urge to pull her hood up.
Cloaks were common enough, to her relief, and most of the ladies had one, likely to protect their hair during the crossing.
A bunch of prissies.
She had a cloak because cloaks were cool. And had lots of pockets. She slipped a fork into her pocket to prove a point to herself.
Aside from her cloak, she was wearing a simple, but elegant black dress with chains of gold filigree and a high belt clasped with a feather brooch. She’d also been offered high heels which she’d declined. As amazing as her balance was, running was still easier in combat boots. The dress went down to the floor anyway, so no one could tell. Her usual comfy boots were still with Rowan, unfortunately. To complete her look, she was of course wearing a black cat mask that covered the top half of her face.
Dantes was wearing a matching outfit, with a black vest with gold filigree cloud designs. The sleeves had been a touch too tight for his tree trunks of arms, so the tailor had made the decision to remove them last minute, lest something rip instead.
She took a moment to appreciate the musculature. They’d definitely grown somewhat in the past weeks.
The overall color theme she was sensing among the guests was white and blue, though there was variation. There, a doe wearing a frilly pink dress. There a snarling dragon conversed with a blue tiger. Over there, a couple in falcon masks were wearing matching brown and red outfits. Seated at the long bar next to them was a man in a purple suit wearing a plain white domino mask.
The doe approached the last one.
“Daaaad. You said you wouldn’t wear anything embarrassing. What is that? Purple and white? Don’t tell anyone we’re related, pleeeeease? How can I meet guys if you’re dressed like a dork.”
The man shook his head. “If they’re not good enough for me, they’re not good enough for you my little princess. Don’t fight me on this, you know I just want you to find someone who will make you happy.”
“Ugh, you always do this. I’m 18, I can go to a little masquerade by myself.” The doe flounced away, dress flouncing along with her.
As she did, a servant with no mask descended from the floor above.
“Everyone, if you will follow along, please? The bridges will be aligned shortly.”
The guests, maybe three dozen in all, filed out of the Angel’s Repose onto the bridge. It was wide enough for maybe two of Dantes to lay head to toe across it, and they moved along in a loose group, Dantes clutching her cloak tightly.
“Dantes, what is wrong with you” she hissed.
She could see him trembling, the usually confident man pulled in on himself.
“The height is getting to me a bit it seems.”
“How did that just come up now? Windcrown is a giant mountain. You’ve been high up since last week.”
“Sure, but this is like 3 times higher, and besides, there’s nothing under our feet. We’re literally walking on glass that’s only attached to a magical floating donut.”
“Don’t be such a wuss, Dantes, this stuff has been her forever. You think it’s going to break now?”
The pink doe from earlier piped in. “Oh, actually they replace it every couple decades. The crystal is much easier to form this high up, so they don’t mind it getting a bit of wear and tear from guests.”
Dantes shivered at that, but sad nothing, preferring to keep his eyes forward.
The end of the bridge was slightly rounded, and she could see that Halo’s extension slightly indented to accommodate for that, slowly sliding into a perfect fit.
She saw his knuckles were white, but they made it to the end without incident, and he seemed relieved, stepping into a glass plaza, even though they were still high in the air. At least the floor wasn’t see-through thin here.
Looking behind, she saw the bridge was already disconnected from the spire, locking them here until the next day.
She wondered what it would feel like to knock something off the bridge. Pretty good, she imagined.
When the last guest had gathered in the courtyard, the maskless servant gave them a summary of the events planned for day.
Apparently, the time until dinner would be spent drinking tea and socializing. After that there was to be some sort of entertainment during dinner, followed by a dance, and then everyone would gather in the courtyard for the aurora before heading back to their assigned rooms for the night. The following day, there was to be a light breakfast and midmorning tea, then everyone would leave at noon.
She liked tea, but the idea of forced socialization with a bunch of fancy rich people didn’t excite her. The entertainment at dinner sounded interesting, but after that, she would have work to do.
She needed to do a practice soufflé before the real thing, and Dantes had said something about soft pillows yesterday, which piqued her interest. Maybe she could steal one or five. She made her way to the edge of the group and slipped away in search of the kitchen.
***
Feeling somewhat abandoned, Dantes stood around before seeking out some tea and a table to sit at while he calmed his nerves. The inside of the wing was still made out of the same crystal substance the bridge, and everything else was formed of, but material used here was closer to opaque, where the bridge’s had been near transparent.
He took a sip of the tea. Tangy, but too light. Not quite his thing. He preferred it when flavour smacked him on the snout rather than needing to cast around in search of it.
“Evening, sir. Are you awaiting your friend?”
It was the doe again. She had silver blond hair that was done up in a pink ribbon and cascaded behind her like a waterfall down her back.
“No, it appears I’m all alone for now.” He cast around for a subject. “What do you think of the tea?” was his best attempt.
“Oh, it’s a bit mediocre. The tea always is before a fancy event. Something about making the food taste better in comparison, but I don’t personally see the point.” She took the question as an invitation and seated herself.
They chatted for some time about the ideal routine preceding a meal. She seemed to find things he had to say interesting, she was clearly a fellow lover of food. It was nice to have someone share interests. They touched upon other things like tennis balls, sailing and cats, and while attentive, it was clear she didn’t personally have an opinion about tennis balls and sailing. Maybe she was just shy.
On cats, she had much to say. “Mom says they’re wretched creatures who ruin everything they set their paws on! Apparently, before they were banned, cats were responsible for two fifths of the magical mishaps that happened in any given year. Getting into places and knocking over delicate equipment or whatnot. There was a petition from the wizard council and everything. Personally, I think they’re awfully cute. I’ve seen paintings, but I would love to meet one in person some day.”
“They certainly do get their paws into everything, but overall, I like cats too. They are very cute.”
“Well, Mr. Wolf, it’s been a pleasure meeting you, but I think the pre-dinner entertainment is happening soon. I really love the group putting on the show this evening. Do you reckon we will be seeing much of each other tonight?”
There were barely 30 odd guests, so he didn’t see an alternative.
“Oh, probably.”
She let out a giggle, like he’d said something funny.
“Oh, yay. I’ll see you around then.”
She bounced out of the room giggling.
He would’ve followed her out towards the dining area, but the man in purple walked by and leveled a look at him.
“Sit” he commanded.
Dantes did so, almost unconciously.
The man sat forward in his chair as they locked eyes for what seemed like minutes but was likely just a few seconds. This man was dangerous. Different from Tsumuji, whose gaze could cut; this man’s gaze was oppressive, like a weight bearing down on his shoulders.
The man sat back in his chair, the pressure vanishing like it was never there.
“What,” he intoned, “are your intentions with my daughter?”
That caught him off guard. What were his intentions with anyone he just met? He supposed friendship was the end goal of most acquaintances. They’d struck it off quite well, he liked to imagine.
“Friendship, I suppose? I don’t know, we just met.”
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
The man sighed and said something under his breath he was pretty sure was ‘that’s a shame’.
“Well, young pup, we’d best make our way to the dining area. Won’t want to miss what we have planned for tonight.”
Dantes wasn’t sure if the man was referencing his mask, or just calling him that, but he nodded and followed.
***
The entertainment was interesting and novel; he’d never seen anything like it before. Apparently, according to the doe, it was a mix between a play and tumbling act with magical effects. The play part sounded interesting, so he paid attention.
It was a story about a princess locked up in a tall castle tower by a dragon, where she awaited a knight in shining armor to save her and whisk her away. The actors spoke in booming, dramatic lines, and the knight fought and tumbled past gouts of flame the spewed through the air, though he felt no heat. In the end, the knight whisked the princess away on his horse into the sunset.
“Oh, bravo! Bravo!” yelled the doe.
“That’s my favourite play. What luck! This troupe has a dozen shows they run, and I was really hoping they’d do this one tonight.” She said, quieter.
“Do you see them often? It was my first time seeing anything like that.”
“Oh yes, whenever they come to town. They’re always here for the aurora festival though. Aren’t they just grand?”
He nodded along. He’d rather enjoyed the production himself. The story had been simple, but the actors had told it effectively and in an entertaining way.
The guests filed out towards the dining table, and he soon found the seat designated “Gold Wolf” near the head of a long table, in between “Pink Doe” and “Black Cat”. He supposed nametags would defeat the purpose of wearing masks, after all.
“Oh, how lucky, we were seated together. Say, where’s your sister, dear Wolf? I haven’t seen her since we arrived.”
“Oh, she’s not my sister, just a friend. And I think she left to look for the kitchen if I recall?”
“My mistake” she said, smiling.
Though he’d voiced doubts about the idea before, perhaps there was something about the mediocre tea method, as the food that was served was sublime. A gourmet of textures and flavours assaulted his mouth with every bite. Crispy and crunchy and soft and creamy and smooth and a hundred others besides.
There was every type of food he’d ever heard of and more besides.
At some point during the meal Mitts had returned as he felt a tap on his shoulder.
“I need to speak with you later. Stop by the room on the third floor, left hallway, at the end, tonight.” Then louder. “Hello Dan- I mean, wolf. I found what I was looking for. Who’s your new friend?”
“Oh, this is Pink Doe. We met earlier at tea.”
“Pleased to make your acquaintance, Black Cat. Danny and I have been spending a lot of time together this afternoon, and I must say, he’s delightful.”
Where’d she get Danny from? And she did seem easily delighted to be fair, though he kept that thought to himself.
Something tense seemed to pass unseen between the two women, so he took a large plateful of some noodle topped sliced steak. Wow, it was good. He made sure to leave enough space for what Mitty had promised him tonight though.
Even with all the delicious food here, her food was irreplaceable to him he realised, because it was food his friend made. In a way it was a bond between them. A real connection.
“Are you going to watch the Aurora tonight, Mitts?” he said through a mouthful of food.
“If I have time. I need to do a practice dish since I hear it only lasts half an hour, so I’ll only have on chance during the actual event.”
Pink Doe peeked around him to speak to Mitty. “If you’re looking for a better kitchen, there’s one on the fourth floor with a balcony with exposure to the aurora. It might need a bit of cleaning up before it’s usable though.”
Mitty thanked Doe and slipped away, taking her plate with her leaving him alone with Doe again.
“That was nice of you, how did you know about that kitchen?”
“Oh, I used to come here all the time as a kid since if I timed it right, the guards couldn’t follow. I ran away here so often my parents kept a personal chef permanently posted here.”
Fair enough, he thought, and might’ve said something, but decided eating was more important than conversation, and loaded up his plate again.
***
She found the kitchen in much the state she’d been informed it would be in.
That little vixen. She should be wearing a fox mask instead of a deer.
She’d crafted the perfect excuse to get the two of them alone again, and the worst part about it was: she hadn’t lied. The kitchen WAS better in every way. Less busy, better view, better tools. It just needed cleaning up.
She hadn’t gotten a chance to tell Dantes about what she’d seen earlier, but he’d be in plain view of everyone. He’d be safe.
Me, on the other hand…
She’d double checked she hadn’t been followed and locked the crystal door behind her to be double sure.
While she could have just put away all the dirty pots, and cleaned what she needed, she had the time, and she found cleaning to be somewhat meditative at times.
Scrubbing old grease off the plates, pots and pans, she cast her mind back to the events of the afternoon.
***
It had been the scent of meat that had first put her on the trail. She recalled hearing from the Spitfire’s cabin boy that Windcrown imported a lot of non-fish meat, and from the smell of it, they were living up to that promise. Beef, chicken, pork, lamb probably? And something else she didn’t recognize.
She slipped by a servant exiting the kitchen who noticed her, but paid her no mind, finding a quiet corner inside the bustling room to watch.
They were cooking a variety of dishes and stacking them on a central counter inscribed with what she assumed to be a preservation rune, because once there, the steam coming off the dishes vanished, and its scent dissipated.
Her attention was being grabbed from all sides as she watched the unique dishes be prepared by a team of four cooks and almost a dozen supporting staff. The linguini looked especially good, but she didn’t recognize the meat that was being added to it. It looked like crab, but was bigger, and smooth. In the corner near her, two servants were carefully adorning bowls of a fluffy white substance with berries, arranging them by color in a wavy line, like a rainbow, but better. An aurora she thought.
She watched for a time before slipping out, swiping a fluffy aurora thing on her way out. Now that she knew where the kitchen was, she would find it again later, but in the meantime, she could go bother Dantes, or steal some stuff from someone. Stealing was always a good bet to pass the time.
The aurora thing, which she decided was the new official name, was great. It tasted like a spectrum of cold and sweet depending on which part you ate. She decided she wanted to learn to make something like this.
In her reverie, she ran face first into a man rounding the corner, knocking her aurora thing to the ground.
"Pardon me, amira, how clumsy I was" said the falcon, in a short bow.
"Nooo, my aurora thing" she said pitifully.
"Again, apologies" he said, brushing past her.
As he passed, she saw his eyes from the corner of her's. It was him, from the market, the man who chased her.
Did he know who she was? Why was he here? Was the woman she'd seen him with been his ally? Probably. What did he want with her? What is this thing I grabbed from his pocket?
All these thoughts flew through her head in a flurry as she rounded the corner.
She opened her hand to reveal a small vial of powder, thin as her little finger and about half as long. She uncorked it taking a sniff, which proved to be a mistake.
[Sleep] hit her like a truck, energy sapping from her limbs. She could feel the darkness pulling in, though she fought it with desperation. The hallway was the worst place to be, she needed somewhere hidden.
With fumbling fingers she recorked the vial, keeping her eyes open with a force of will she didn't know she had. To a cat, resisting sleep was like resisting falling midair, it simply wasn't done. She stumbled down the hallway a few paces, opening the door into the closest room. It was a storage area of some sort, with crates stacked high, blocking out most of the natural light that naturally passed through these walls.
With a monumental effort she toppled herself behind the nearest stack. She was asleep before she hit the floor.
***
She woke some time later feeling lethargic. Her limbs felt heavy, so she wasn't in a hurry to move, instead preferring to pull her cowl on, sinking further into the gloom. She was getting settled in the corner when she heard hushed voices pass by the door.
"...was her?" said a woman's voice. It was soft and honeyed but betrayed a preparation for violence that felt dangerous.
"Yes, we bumped into each other here. I don't know if she recognized me though." She recognized the man's voice from earlier.
"Let's not talk out in the hall. Here."
Mitty's heart jumped, as the end of that sentence was punctuated by the opening of the door, the crystal panel sliding sideways into a slot in the wall noiselessly, then closing again. There was a click that she assumed was the door locking.
She was only somewhat hidden, so she tried to sink deeper into the shadows, hoping the gloom the crates provided would be sufficient.
The pair took a few breaths to inspect the room, eyes sliding right over her. For a moment her breath caught as she thought they saw her, but they moved quickly moved on before they focused on each other again.
The woman began in a whisper.
"We should assume she did, but act as though she did not. There would be no point alerting her needlessly if fortune would favour us so. Try to keep tabs on her location. Find which room she is staying in and dose her pillow. She could make this very difficult on us should she decide to hide away until tomorrow."
"We could just take the man."
"Yes, and we will if needed, but I sense some danger from him. It's not a fight I would choose if there's an easier option. Unless you fail again" she accented this with a finger jabbed into his chest.
"It's not my fault, Tarik had trouble spotting her. She kept shaking him off somehow."
Interesting. She assumed that was the name of the man's bird friend. It was good to know she'd been at least somewhat successful in evading its senses.
"An artist does not blame his tools, 5. If you lose her, meet me in my room and we'll go with the backup plan."
"And if that also fails?" the man asked, almost cringing.
The woman also hesitated. "Then we will go with the desperate option. But it won't because you will find where the woman is staying. You WON'T fuck it up. Again. I take it you remembered the Moon Moth powder?"
"Yes, I packed it this morning. Remember? After we fed Tarik and Minik. It's in..." he felt in his pocket she'd taken it from. "uh... one of these pockets. Don't worry... it's uhh... damn."
The woman narrowed her eyes dangerously "Luckily your little slip up will not ruin us" she bit out, "as it seems our two friends will not be sharing a room. The other one has been attached at the hip with the pink girl. The one making doe eyes at him? Whatever, you're oblivious. Find where she is sleeping, and we can be off this glass abomination before morning."
The woman headed over to the door, lifting the latch. "Now let's head back. Dinner is starting soon, and I hear the chefs are world class."
The man muttered something to himself, but followed, door sliding silently shut behind them.
Mitty let out a breath she hadn't known she was holding. Sleeping in her assigned room was obviously out of the question. She should warn Dantes about the threat, but more worryingly…
Which harlot was seducing her pooch?
***
A pretty pink one apparently.
The girl was cute as a button, but she had faith Dantes’ head was too thick to notice such things. Food was the only way to his heart, she knew.
She put the final plate into the drying rack, flicking the residual water from her hands.
Since coming to this world, she’d never really put any thought into her human appearance. Of course, her feline self remained immaculate, but as a human, she’d just never even thought about it.
She could see the appeal, she thought, looking at her reflection in a particularly polished pot. Her hair framed her face nicely enough, and the bath she’d taken had removed the thin dusting of grime she’d acquired over their weeks of travel helped as well. Apparently cleaning herself as a cat did little for her human form.
Perhaps bathing once in a while would do. It was her gift to the world, after all, to look her best.
She focused back to the task at hand, preparing her ingredients for the practice round.
***
The result had been… okay. She knew from the smell that she’d need to rebalance the mix of spices to accommodate for the lighter taste of the fish, and perhaps beat the eggs slightly less. The addition of the Featherfish seemed to alter the whole balance of ingredients she required, but she felt perfection on the tip of her tongue, so to speak.
She put it away in her pocket as she quickly cleaned the dishes in preparation for the aurora she knew would be coming any minute, and she would be ready.
***
It turned out to be not a minute after she’d finished preparing for her second try that it happened.
It started with dancing green lights filtering through the crystal walls, casting a cold glow across her counter.
The oven was already heated, so she buttered her soufflé dish and sprinkled some grated cheese which had a sharp, nutty flavor on the dish.
She then combined one paw full of flour with about half as much butter and thrice as much milk.
The let that combine over a heating enchantment while she prepared the fish. A pillow she’d grabbed from someone’s room proved to be better than the feather she’d been using until now, so she used that to separate off the feathers. She’d had so much practice fileting fish over the course of the week that she finished before the flour and milk mixture was done incorporating.
Perhaps by dint of being so high up, or perhaps it was the magical lights filtering through the room, but both [Softness] and [Flight] were perfectly preserved. The [Freedom] aspect was a bare flicker. Better than previous attempts, but not something she was going to worry about right now.
The lights were in full swing now, dancing a ghostly green and distant purple across her kitchen. The way the walls refracted the light made it seem to come from every angle at once. It was a little disconcerting in a way, but she could feel the energy in her bones, empowering her very body. Rather than the [Cold] she was expecting, [Magic] pervaded the room, bathing everything in a sublime energy.
She quickly separated her eggs into yolks and whites, and added the yolks to her sauce, along with a pile of cheese she’d already grated and her spices. Separately she whipped the eggs whites into submission before adding them to the mix, quickly folding them in with her spatula.
The fish was quickly pan seared with minimal spices, just to make sure it cooked evenly with the rest of it, and finally the feathers. The feathers tended to break down when cooked more slowly, leaving a streak of creamy, salty and soft substance behind, so they went in as is, just mixed gently into the batter.
With the final preparations finished, she shoved the batter into the oven and took a break. Now she had nothing to do but wait.
She withdrew from her pocket a sealed mug of the calming spiced milk tea she’d had that first night in Windcrown, and pulled a chair onto the balcony.
It was beautiful in a way words failed to describe adequately. Even high as they were, the lights were higher still, dancing among the stars, seemingly. The green and purple streaked the sky in a cold, distant light, untouchable by mortal hands.
She watched for some time before the lights slowly faded, as though they recalled they did not belong here, and had to leave forever. The final streak of color lasted a while, slowly dropping, sloughing off the sky like wet paint drizzling down a canvas, falling from its untouchable peak. It almost seemed like she could touch it.
Acting on the fanciful thought, she reached up to grab the dying light out of the sky and catch it in her palm.
It truly was there in her hand, she realized, just the faintest wisp of green and purple, dancing between her fingers. She did not need her sense of smell to know what it was. Magic. Not [Magic], or anything defined by the people of this world, but truly something unexplained, impossible, wondrous. Magical.
She let it play there across her fingers for a time, letting it fade into the ether before a thought occurred to her, almost heretical in nature. She withdrew an empty vial she’d once stored spice in but now sat empty and unused, and carefully, ever so gently, corked it around the final wisp of true magic.
“I’m sorry” she uttered softly into the darkness.