Page 23 of Romancing the Throne
I gripped the side of the basket tightly as I clambered aboard, then helped Sparrow climb over the side. The crew member took our tickets and we shuffled along as another group of elves boarded. Once the basket was full, I tried to find us a spot that was a safe distance from the edge and carried less risk of leaning too far over the side. But there was a gap right at the front of the basket, and Sparrow noticed it right away.
“Can we stand there?” he asked, tugging me toward the spot before I could refuse.
I wouldn’t have refused anyway, despite how much I wanted to, because he was so excited.
We slowly became airborne, and even from here the ground looked a very, very long way away. The wind caught in my clothes and tugged at the strands of hair that had escaped my braid. I was glad Sparrow’s hair was still braided too; otherwise it would have lashed us both in the face.
He leaned on the rail, and I stood beside him. I wished that the rail felt more solid, but it could have been made of iron and I still would have panicked that it was flimsy.
When all of the passengers were settled, the crew member untied us from the platform. With a shudder and a lurch, like an eel slithering into a stream, we were off, floating upward.
“Oh!” Sparrow leaned out farther, and I held the back of his tunic. “This must be how it feels to be a bird!”
We rose into the sky on an updraft, the central burner hissing and roaring asit belched out flames, and suddenly the market was laid out below us like a patterned quilt, its panels intersected by the roads that cut their way through the different areas. The sunlight gleamed on the magnificent rooftops of the Ceremonial Pavilion and the Marketplace Pavilion, each section reflecting the light like the facets of a pair of cut jewels. At the southern end of the market, past the livestock paddocks, the campgrounds were a jumbled mess of color and chaos. I caught sight of what could have been Silrisar’s wagons, but it was hard to tell as they receded rapidly into the distance. The Glaesflod Islands came into view, and then the roads and fields and woods that surrounded the market.
I tried to distract myself from the sights below by watching Sparrow instead, and the sheer happiness that lit up his features somehow made every minute of the gut-lurching ride worth it. I breathed in and out slowly and kept my gaze fixed on his face.
A horse pulling a cart trudged down the road heading for the Glaesflod Bridge, and Sparrow, delighted, pointed. “It’s so small!”
I looked down and nodded, my fingers gripping his tunic so tightly that my fingertips were bleached white. The ropes tethering us to the ground looked as thin and insubstantial as cobwebs.
A gust of wind caught us, and the roar of the flames changed pitch as the driver steered us through it. The basket dipped for a moment, and my stomach swooped. Sparrow beamed, and I squeezed my eyes shut and tried not to be sick.
“Elowin?”
I opened my eyes to find he’d turned to face me.
“You’ve gone very pale. Are you alright?”
“I’m fine,” I lied.
His hands sought mine. “We can move away from the edge if you’d prefer?”
“No,” I said. “You like it here.”
He tiltedhis head and showed me a puzzled smile. “I’m sure I’ll like it further in as well.” He tugged on my hands. “Come on!”
He pulled me toward the centre of the basket, and kept his hand in mine as we shuffled into a less vulnerable spot. His gaze was immediately drawn to the view; mine found the floor in the hopes I could convince my stomach that we were just in a normal room.
“Thank you for bringing me,” he said, his voice soft and earnest. “Especially since you’re clearly hating it.”
I laughed under my breath despite myself. “You’re welcome, Sparrow. Can you distract me by telling me all about your favorite birds, please?”
And he squeezed my hand and stood with me, and the rest of the flight turned out to be not quite as terrifying when I spent it listening to Sparrow chattering on about birds until we finally landed.
Ifelt a lot better once I had my feet back on the ground. Sparrow and I explored the market again. There was always something new to discover.
We were walking toward the food stalls when a familiar voice called, “How goes it, Sparrow?”
We turned to see Silrisar hailing us from his market stall. He was wearing a loose vest that was all the colors of the rainbow with no shirt underneath, and his nipple rings gleamed in the sunlight. His stall was filled with row upon row of carefully drawn artwork, both in color and black and white, and Sparrow’s eyes lit up when he realized what they were. “Oh, you do tattoos? How interesting!”
“And piercings,” Silrisar said with an easy smile. “I farm cattle most of the time, but a weekat the markets makes me enough to buy new livestock and enough seed for the year before I go home. People pay good money for my art.”
We chatted for a while. Silrisar showed me some of his designs up close while Sparrow gazed wistfully at the racks of gold and silver rings on display. Silrisar noticed him looking and said, “Want something pierced? First one’s free for anyone from Hillstowe.”
Sparrow worried at his bottom lip as he considered it and for a moment I was convinced he’d take the offer, but in the end he shook his head.
“Come and see me if you change your mind,” Silrisar said cheerfully, and we bid him farewell.
