Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 99201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 496(@200wpm)___ 397(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 496(@200wpm)___ 397(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
I agree with him. This is a bad place if you’re a chimera. But is it any worse than being stuck in a punishment fog as a human back in Savage Falls?
Decidedly not. And anyway, having now gone our separate ways for a bit, I can see that it’s not me who is garnering all the attention when we travel, it’s him.
The humans do look at me, a once-over. Some of them nod, like they are appreciating my beauty. Children point and make a fuss, as children are inclined to do. But that’s it. I’m a casual oddity. I do not sense any hostility. Certainly nothing even close to what I felt on the road when I was riding behind Eros on Ire.
I am… perhaps a stranger in a strange land. But that’s all it is. They all know I’m not from here, but even within the Sphere Market—where just getting let in requires some kind of prerequisite that I have no clue about—I just get the feeling I belong.
Maybe it’s the royal blood? Or the fact that I used to wear a crown?
I’m not sure. I just like it here. And as I wander down the road that contains the glass district within the market, I feel at home. I find myself smiling at people, and them smiling back at me.
This is an existence that I have never known. I went from the nursery, to prep school, to finishing school, to the apothecary, and then straight to the palace.
I have been all over the kingdom, but never once have I wandered alone down a road of shops inside a grand market.
It’s… heaven. Just me, a woman alone. And this place, Glory Rome.
It almost sounds like a spelling.
There is a reason they call it Glory, after all. It’s… glorious. And down this particular lane, the glass is divine. Bottles everywhere. Lovely slender ones with honey-colored corks, and squat fat ones with screw-on tops made of tin. Giant jugs with wicker carrying-straps wrapped around them. But the loveliest of all, and the ones that catch my eye, are those displayed in the window in front of me that have been stained with quicksilver dust.
They are like old, warped mirrors. And, if my memory serves, they are exactly the kind of bottle I need. Because they are used for finding spells. And while our goal could be defined as going home, or moving on, or locating doors—it could equally be described as finding ourselves.
Our true selves.
Finding your inner peace, perhaps?
I think this is a splendid goal for Eros and me.
I go inside the shop and discover a lovely young tern-woman. You don’t see bird chimera much in my time. Certainly not terns, which are a slight and sleek bird bred for grace. Gryphons, of course, have bird in them, so there is some bird inside me somewhere. But it’s the blood of raptors they want for gryphons. Eagles, and hawks, and falcons. Strong birds with sharp, destructive beaks and claws.
Terns are little dancers in the wind. But with an extraordinary sense of direction and well-developed stamina.
Her face is jet black and feathered throughout. But not a single one is ruffled, so they are so smooth and glossy that you might even miss the fact that she has feathers at all. The rest of her is as white as the sands in the Great Desert. Her body is slender and if I were to try to lift her, she would be incredibly light.
All that aside, if you were to take away the wings, and feathers, and odd black-and-white coloring, she looks entirely human.
“Good morning,” she chirps, so dainty and birdlike. “You’re an unusual one, aren’t you? We don’t get many cat-ladies in the Sphere Market.”
Cat-lady. I don’t think anyone has ever called me a cat lady. But of course, they would still be perfecting the gryphon in these times. Maybe they have not even been developed yet?
“How can I help you today?” she adds.
“The bottles in the window.” I point. “Can you tell me about them?”
“Oh, certainly. That’s a nice choice. They are very special. Made by the godmakers.” She nods her head at the door. “Right there in Building One of Science and Glory.”
“Really?”
“Truly.” She smiles. “The godmakers’ hands have touched every one of these bottles.” Then she whispers, “Just as the gods have touched you, obviously.” But she’s looking away when she says it, and doesn’t bring her gaze up to meet mine again.
Just as the gods have touched you. She knows. Am I surprised? Have I seen another gryphon chimera since arriving here? Not even one. Not even a crude one, let alone a royal beast such as myself. The science required to make me is thousands of years in the future using blood that has been carefully crossed, and outcrossed, and in-crossed, and re-crossed, and manipulated just so.