Page 100 of Artemysia
“Our medical care is advanced compared to what humans have,” Eira replies matter-of-factly.
“Eira,” Ivy says, her deep eyes glinting as she admires the razor-sharp, swirl-patterned blade in her hand. “I think I like the Syf of Artemysia.”
Eira sticks around after breakfast.
I recall Outpost Olivier’s description of Syf in children’s tales. That Syf had magic, were civilized, could sense emotions, and helped humans. And they liked sugar and rode Lindwyrms. Some of these details already seem to be true, so I’m curious. Starting with innocent questions will eventually loosen up tight lips.
“Are the myths true? That you ride Lindwyrms?” I haven’t seen any in Artemysia.
“No. Lindwyrms haven’t been spotted here in centuries. Only true Syf royalty can control and ride them.”
Centuries?So the Syf don’t know about the one in the cave? That Lindwyrms still exist? I pocket the information, keeping it to myself for now. “Can Syf sense emotions even if we hide them?”
“You’re anxious.” She nods at me before turning to Ivy. “You’re disturbingly excited for no reason.” She studies Throg. “And you’re calm and content, and oh, something inappropriate when you look at Ivy.”
Throg chokes on his porridge and then laughs heartily.
Eira goes on. “Some of us are better at sensing than others, but it’s why we show less emotion than humans. We already know how the others are feeling, so there’s no need to overdo facial expressions.”
“What about your tail?” Ivy asks. “Does it show emotions? And why have wings if you’re flightless? It’s said they’re used in mating. Are Syf males like humans…down there?” Her face crinkles into a mischievous grin.
I’m forced to glance away, knowing the answer, at least partially…
“Yes—well, the wings are used to hold each other down, among other things,” Eira replies.
“Really! Is it true that you can’t lie?” Ivy asks.
“I’m having thebesttime answering all your prying, uncomfortable questions,” Eira says with a straight face.
So theycanlie. I laugh under my breath, impressed with Eira’s clever answer, and take a bite of a peach pastry.
“And sugar? The tales said Syf love sugar.” I recall Throg’s complaint about the sugared meat last night.
Eira nods eagerly. “We don’t like salt. Our lands produce a lot of sugar, harvested from sugar vines and sugar melons that grow only in Artemysia. Our history lessons say we used to trade it to humans who also love it. The lands outside of Artemysia don’t support the growth as well.”
Ah. That’s why sugar is a rarity.
I press my luck. “Why did humans and Syf stop trading?”
Eira’s tail lashes (nervously, I’m guessing). She drops her gaze and shakes her head. “I can’t answer that,” she says. “Only King Foss can.But he’s going to be busy with Riev until the mission.”
“Will we see either of them?” Throg asks, glancing at me for my reaction. I press my lips into a thin line.
“No. King Foss forbids you from trying to see or contact Riev. He’s going to be undergoing some training. As will you three.”
It sounds ominous enough for Throg to stop chewing for a moment to scrutinize Eira. “What kind of training?”
“It starts today. I’m to escort you downstairs.”
“When we die, we don’t rot. So we burn our dead and return to stardust after death.” - Eira
“You’re wearing a shirt. And pants. Voluntarily?” I narrow my eyes at Throg as Eira leads us down a different set of stairs than yesterday. The spiral stairway of green marble, like much else here, is embedded with gemstones. Each step is a different color.Violet, blue, green, gold, crimson.I count the colors and take breaths to quell the rising tightness in my chest at the unknowns that are out of my control here.
“Have you felt the Syf fabrics? I don’t overheat or sweat at all.” Throg hoists his large arm span overhead as if reaching for a high shelf, and the mint fabric stretches with him instead of pulling or straining. “Feels like a second skin.”
“What’s it made of?” My own moss-green tunic and dark leggings have been surprisingly comfortable, too.
Eira’s eager response has her tail twitching. “We cultivate luna moths here, the ones you see all over thepalace. Their silk is collected from the leftover cocoons after they emerge. The moths are more active at night, when they glow a bright green.” At the bottom of the stairs, she herds us down a winding, arched hallway.
