Page 174 of To Scale the Emerald Mountain
I nod, and he takes my hand, leading me to the filled altar. There are many shining eyes around, accepting the hurt of their losses,mixed with the appreciation of having had their loved ones at all. Alec’s hand is on my lower back when I place the comb on a small piece of free space, calm and sure, and a weight lifts from my heart.
The beauty of the moment and the pulsing energy of everyone throughout the city celebrating the joys of life and love through the losses guaranteed for all washes over me, creating a deep feeling of acceptance that I don’t quite understand, but am happy to accept nonetheless.
Everyone says their goodnights and disperses shortly after to move on to their other events planned for the evening. Many arms hug my neck and the love of the large family envelops me like a cozy blanket. I’m grateful for each one of them.
For whatever reason, the Fates bore me to a mother who would not live past bringing me into this world; to a father who struggled to release unfair blame put on me for stealing his wife. The Fates in turn bound me to a large, tight knit family. No family is perfect, and the Vahnsing’s are no exception. But in times of hardship, they lean on each other, and that support extends to me.
The atmosphere is heavy—but not unhappy—as Alec and I wave goodbye to Cescily at the gate of the private drive.
As soon as Alec turns to me with a grin, that heaviness lifts, and I return his smile. “Are you ready to celebrate?”
I nod enthusiastically, and he grabs my hand before pulling us into the void.
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
ELLYA
We appear in a crowded city street amid deafening music and cheering crowds.
Bonfires have been lit, large circles of flame licking up towards the infinite skies, the altars surrounding them are littered with an eclectic mix of objects to honor the dead they belonged to.
Faerie lights shine brightly in a mass of different colors while costumed people on stilts walk down the street juggling swords and balls of flame. Everyone is dressed in costume, and no one notices their king in their midst; Alec and I blending in perfectly.
Mounds of sparkling confetti and ribboned streamers float down from the tall buildings towering over us. A woman at a stall hands me a bag of roasted hazelnuts that I accept gratefully. Alec tips her generously before he takes a handful from the bag, popping one in his mouth.
“Come, Elly. The parade should be starting soon.”
I can nearly taste Alec’s excitement as he leads me by the hand through the crowded streets, stopping often to get us spiced ciders and point out different decorations, costumes, or altars.
The sun has long since dipped below the horizon, and a teasing chill of desert night air breezes through the crowd, ruffling my peacock tail.
The crowd erupts cheerfully, Alec eagerly joining in.
“A blessing, to have a reprieve from the summer heat, even if only at night. The first cool evening breeze always comes on the eve of Samhain,” Alec explains happily.
We finally make it a few blocks away, where the streets are clear and blocked off. On the sidewalks, crowds are gathered in anticipation. Children sit on the edge happily devouring their treats while their face paints smudge away, and their parents chatter happily behind them.
A loud crackling sparks to life. The crowd hushes and looks down the street with excitement. The flicker lamps die down to cast the street in haunting shadows dancing below the small, colorful faerie lights.
My heart beats in happy anticipation as the crackling continues and Alec squeezes me close to him. When the noise becomes ear-shattering, a bright flash of light erupts as drums begin pounding away. A float with thousands of varying sized sparklers begins to move towards us. Behind it, I make out another large float boasting a wall of living flowers, arranged to show the side profile of a woman’s face visible from either side of the street with dark candles surrounding to illuminate the image.
“Another way the people of our city honor their dead,” Alec whispers in my ear.
I turn back to the parade to see another float coming. This one holds a large, bright pink skull lit from within. The face has intricate details painted on the eyes, mouth, cheeks, and brow in different oranges, blues, and purples. As the float comes directly by us, thousands of tiny names scrawled across it by different hands become apparent. Next comes a large sculpture made of clay, molded into two hands clasped tightly. After that comes asmall replica of a home with shadow images of a family on the facade.
The beauty of each coming float—the love and care gone into their construction—takes my breath away. All the bright colors with the haunting images work together in such a way to convey the conflicting emotions of those who created them.
The crowd watches in a comfortable silence, soaking in the same masterpiece of love and heartache that I am. Many eyes shine bright with tears both shed and unshed, including my own. Alec holds me tight from behind, and I close my eyes and rest the back of my head against him, savoring the warmth and peace he sends to my very soul just by being near. He kisses the top of my head and I open my eyes to see my glow matched on his face. I smile wide before resting my head against him again, and he brings both arms up to hold me across my chest.
Something falls gently from the sky, and my head tilts back to be brushed by multi-colored flower petals raining from above as the parade ends. I hold my hand out to catch a few, rubbing them between the pads of my fingers, enjoying the silky texture before I let them drift to the ground.
We meander through the city for the next few hours eating, drinking, and dancing.
We laugh loudly and kiss often.
Alec guides me to a bench to rest our aching feet. “Are you enjoying yourself?”
“I’ve never had so much fun, or seen anything so amazing, in my life. Not even Crane Hills during Winter Solstice,” I reply with wonder.
