Page 94 of Hijack the Seas: Seismic

Since I liked mine where it was, I put it down and hoped my height wouldn’t give me away.

It didn’t seem likely.

This crowd wasn’t the usual seven-foot-tall willowy type I had become used to in the lands of the fey. It was of all sizes and varieties, including some I’d never seen before. And some that I was pretty sure nobody had ever seen before, with the combo of dark fey, light fey, and human genes making a hell of a soup.

A trio of giggling, three-foot-tall women with pointy ears, big noses, and wild green hair pushed past, looking almost exactly like the troll dolls sold in gift shops. They were eating stuffed squid and using their sharp elbows to cut a swath through the crowd. And they didn’t get so much as a glance from anyone, except for some of the people they jostled out of the way.

Because cotton candy hair was everywhere, in pinks, lavenders, blues, and greens, and in every style from afros to wild tufts, and from sleek, silky braids to elaborate updos. The facial features matched the hair, ranging from the delicate elfin variety to the bulbous and ogre-ish and everything in between. I saw a nine-foot-tall shaggy creature that could have doubled for Big Foot; a couple of stocky, lizard-headed guys like the ones I’d seen on a recent trip to the realm of the dragon lords; a lovely blonde woman with bright green skin, a slim build and delicate ogre’s tusks; and a swarm of pixies flying overhead, collectively carting around a large paper spill of spicy red shrimp that they were sharing between them.

Again, they attracted no one’s attention but mine, possibly because, around here, that was perfectly normal behavior or because there were a hundred other things to see.

Pritkin towed me through the crowd, taking the brunt of the work himself and leaving me to gape around in wonder. At the huge waterfall at the end of the ample open space, cascading over a cliff so high that I couldn’t see the top from here and misting the nearby crowd as if a light rain was falling; at the mass of vendors calling out their wares, which seemed to consist of every type of seafood imaginable prepared in every kind of way, including some prawns as big as my two fists being grilled over an open flame that looked delicious but the seller was mobbed; at the musicians on a dias, tuning up some instruments I didn’t recognize; and at the streamers and banners snapping in the wind, with what I guessed were the different challengers’ emblems on them, although I didn’t see ours. And then I realized that I didn’t even know what ours was supposed to look like, and started to ask Pritkin, when he shoved a spill of small, fried, soft shelled crabs into my hands.

I had no idea how he’d managed to acquire them but didn’t care as they were warm and smelled sweet and spicy and—

“Eat,” he yelled. “It distorts the face!”

He didn’t have to tell me twice.

I ate, stuffing my cheeks with the little things, and they were amazing, or maybe I was just starving. And so were some shrimps like those the pixies had had, a spill of which was tossed to us by a vendor after Pritkin lobbed him a coin in passing and which were hot enough that I thought the top of my head would come off. But instead, we picked up a cold brew from a wandering giant-sized seller with massive kegs on each burly shoulder and found it to be pink, punchy, and vaguely beer-like, as if a nice wheat beer had been mixed with Kool-Aid.

I’d have eaten and drunk more, but suddenly, we were there, having traversed the length of what I guessed was Fountain Court, although I had yet to see a fountain. The great waterfall was on one side of us, its roar almost deafening this close, filling up a large round pool or a small lake. On the less spray-filled side, the pool was surrounded by an amphitheater-type setup composed of a cascade of sweeping, black stone seats.

More seats were on the other side, where stands packed with the fey nobility hugged an open space between the cliffs, with a backdrop of the palace in the distance. I’d never seen it from the outside and wasn’t seeing much of it now, as it looked like a mountain had eaten it. A few towers stuck out here and there, surrounded by gardens, waterfalls, and pagodas, which I guessed were for lounging as a lot of people seemed to be doing that, with spyglasses trained this way.

I supposed they were the ones who hadn’t managed to secure a ticket to the stands.

Between them and the mountain we were on was a chasm, as Nimue’s kingdom seemed to be like Rome and built on hilltops. Only in her case, they were more like islands, sticking out of the water that shimmered all around. Including the waterfall’s pool, where a bunch of seahorses were bucking at the traces in stalls on this side.

But I could see no connection between the waterfall pool and the open water, which was down a pretty steep drop anyway. The pool only covered maybe an acre and a half, and no river ran out of it. So, what were we supposed to do? I wondered. Circle the pond like a bunch of rubber ducks in a bath?

I couldn’t figure it out, maybe because I could hardly think. Tens of thousands of people had gathered on the steps surrounding the pond that cascaded down toward the water, and those who hadn’t gotten a perch had crawled onto the surrounding rocks to wave pennants and scream. Since I didn’t know any fey languages and my translator wasn’t even attempting to sort out the babble, I had no idea what anyone was saying.

Then the musicians started up, and it didn’t matter anyway.

They drowned out what some official-looking type in a glittery robe was trying to announce in front of the stands of the beautiful people. He tried to wave the musicians off, or at least get them to shut up, because even enhanced speech wasn’t good enough to cut through the din. But it didn’t work, and he finally gave up, and some of the shell-shaped trumpets sounded again as they’d been doing about every five minutes, deep and resonate, and whipping up the crowd even more.

And finally, here they came, out of a tunnel in the rock under the falls, a troop of the wildest-looking people imaginable. The challengers, of which there seemed to be about twenty, had all dressed for the occasion, and to give them credit, they managed to stand out even in this crazy mix. I recognized Æsubrand, still keeping to his brilliant white arrogance and ignoring the resounding boos that met his appearance, as it looked like Aeslinn’s son wasn’t any more popular than his old man.

But most of the competition wasn’t so austere. The jewels flashing under the brilliant sun, the crazy plumage decorating headdresses that would have made a Maya proud, and the crystals, sequins, pearls, and iridescent cloth had me squinting my eyes as the panoply passed below. It reminded me of the opening of the Miss Universe pageant, but if the various completely over-the-top outfits had any symbolism, I didn’t know enough about Faerie to recognize it.

Pritkin yelled something I couldn’t make out, snapping my attention back to him.

“What?” I looked at him.

“I’m going to join the race! I’ll steal down in disguise, then throw it off just before the start!” He nodded at a black seahorse without any other color on the extreme right-hand side of the pool, under a pennant of bright green with a stylized sun in the middle that was rapidly getting drenched.

Our colors, I guessed.

“Okay, let’s go,” I said, swallowing the last of my drink.

“No! You stay here!”

He started to pull away, but I held him back. “What are you talking about?”

“You don’t know how to ride!”

“I’ll learn!”

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