Page 85 of Love, Nemesis
They bypassed huts and tents as they drew closer to the city walls, stone giants that cast a vast shadow across the first rows of houses near it. The bustle of a busy city could be heard from inside, but the tents and cottages outside seemed empty.
“The walls are huge,” Cal said. “You can just hear everyone on the other side. How are we getting in?”
“We ask. My Dear Anne should get us in,” said Lethe as they closed the distance between the walls. He began to wrestle up his sleeve to expose the names tattooed on his arm. “The ROSE traded with them during The Ocean’s War and unlike your wonderful establishment, the Mystics love war h–” Lethe suddenly stopped before uttering a slow, drawn-out, “Hmm.”
“What?” Cal said, glancing around.
Lethe pulled his sleeve down. “It might be too late.”
“What?” Cal pushed.
“I’ve never been to the Mystics myself,” Lethe said, as if the fact spelled its own kind of doom.
Cal stood beside him, gaze shifting nervously around the surrounding area, waiting for a guard or watchmen to notice them standing in broad daylight at the city gate.
“What does that mean?” Cal prodded, clearly unnerved by Lethe’s nonchalance.
“I remember these doors,” Lethe said, eyes studious, looking over the great gates covered in markings and symbols. “These are the gates to the city of Vevaldi, in En Sanctus. It wasdestroyed ages ago. In fact, I stood just like this, in front of those gates once, admiring them the same way.”
“What are you saying?”
“This isn’t real.”
Cal searched the area, following after Lethe as he started to the doors. Lethe took a few more steps forward as if the gates would open at his approach, his eyes focused up toward the sun.
“What’s going on?” Cal whispered.
“We were expected,” Lethe said.
The gates jolted. They opened like the yawn of a beast, jaws cracking wide and exposing streets crowded with people. In the center of the city, a stark, black steeple rose above the crowd.
The Mystics wore an assortment of colorful clothing, mirroring the wealth of the wearers with vibrant tassels, precious metals, and colored beads. The men and women both colored their dark hair with dyes, feathers, and trinkets, marking their pale faces with symbols like canvases. The dirt under their feet had thickened into clay, baked in by the intensity of the Mystic summer sun.
“I want you to try and run,” Lethe said, tone firmer. He looked at Cal, the boy’s eyes swirling with confusion.
“Now.”
Cal looked between him and the crowd.
The moment Lethe’s foot crossed the threshold of the city, everyone stopped. They each slammed a foot into the ground, propelling themselves in orderly lines on either side of a narrow path to the black buildings ahead.
He saw the people closer now. They had vacant, glossy eyes.
“Lethe,” Cal said behind him.
“You heard me, Cal.”
Looking over his shoulder, Lethe saw Cal glance between the rows of people before looking back. The boy shook his head, walking forward as if each step might land him in a trap. He continued glancing nervously at the people, removing his Atlas as he stopped in front of Lethe.
Lethe narrowed his eyes. “Cal, you won’t get any reward for being brave here.”
Cal looked up at Lethe, and for a split moment, Lethe recognized a type of determination he hadn’t felt in a long time.
“I don’t know what’s ahead,” Lethe said. “It’s the Strike’s game. It always is.”
Cal nodded, acting as if it wasn’t the first time he’d heard that information. “Okay.”
Lethe knew for a fact that he didn’t completely understand it, and yet here he was, shaking in his shoes, but here.
