Page 132 of A Song of Air
Predator.
“I will see you soon.”And then Weylyn’s voice disappeared.
“Up, up, up.” The brownie ushered Bryson to a stand and held out a fluffy towel made of woven flowers and animal skin. “Time for wardrobe. And the goblin has come to see you.”
Water sloshed from the sides of the rim of the tub as Bryson stepped out. She was dried over every inch by the brownies, and then she was dressed in black and gold pants and a shirt that cut off at the midriff. The high neck threatened to choke her, and she stopped herself from fidgeting at the neckline.
The brownies took a brush to her hair, pulling at all the knots, tying it in an elaborate hairstyle Bryson was sure she’d never be able to emulate on her own. Once she was dressed, the brownies opened the tent flaps and a small creature waded through.
She recognized him as the same goblin who had measured her face before.
He yanked on her pants and her knees buckled then hit the ground. His glare met her eyes.
“Here.” He procured a device from his pockets and held it up to her face. Bryson flinched as he forced it onto her, setting it on the bridge of her nose. “Lenses,” he grumped as they settled.
And suddenly the world became so much more...
Clear.
The blur she’d lived with for years ceased. There were no blobs of color. It wasn’t as if someone had taken a brush to the canvas of the world andblurredit.
Her sight was restored.
A small gasp left her lips and the lenses slid down the ridge of her nose. The goblin shoved them back up with a finger.
“H-how—?”
“Magic,” he answered curtly. “And science.”
Bryson leaned back and looked around. The weight of the glasses on her face was strange. They were made of a heavy metallic material, though the lenses were a thick glass. The pressure they put against her nose and ears felt like they didn’t belong. But it didn’t matter because she couldsee.
She hadn’t seen anything clearly in years.
Doing so now made her eyes mist with emotion that she held back. Every detail was clear to her now. From the threads of the tent, to the textured skin of the brownies, to the creases in the goblin’s old, angry face.
He was observing her with barely concealed annoyance, but also observing the lenses to make sure they were completely adequate. He must have thought they were, because he took a step back and nodded once.
“Do not break them,” the goblin said. “I won’t make you another.”
Before Bryson could reply, he stomped out of the tent.
“Come now.” The brownie tugged at her pants. Bryson looked down, relishing in details she could now make out clearly. The way pink and purple flowers bloomed across the brownie’s brown-green, tree-like skin. The young, expressive face as she smiled up at Bryson. “The queen requests your presence.”
The reminder of that made Bryson’s excitement diminish just a fraction. She took a breath as she pushed herself to her feet. She held her head high as she exited the tent behind the brownie. She tried not to give in, but couldn’t help herself as the sunlight hit her body and colors assaulted her vision.
Her head twisted side to side, absorbing everything around her. Everything felt new, fresh. Her eyes widened as she took in the Unseelie Court in a way she hadn’t been able to do before. It was rife with magic. A part of it reminded her of the Seelie Court before the humans had invaded, but a larger part of her recognized it for what it was. It wasmore.
It was pixies flying liberally through the air, creating a rainbow of floating lights and different colored powders as they rained down, softly blanketing the ground like snow. Her delicate shoes sunk into the powder, and it flew up with every step, nearly making her sneeze. She tried not to inhale it, though, and the pixies seemed to giggle at her efforts.
Other creatures milled about, a good majority of them goblins, but she caught sight of satyrs, centaurs, and an array of Unseelie Fae with animalistic features as well. Her head lifted to the sky. She caught sight of a tall iron pillar in the distance from which smoke emitted at the tip. She sneezed at that bit of iron in the air.
Her eyes still itched, and her scars still pulsed, but after days surrounded by iron she no longer felt as sick as she had before. Bryson reached for her magic, though that part of her still felt dormant and she couldn’t really make out why.
She hoped it was still growing used to the iron and not because the iron itself had created lasting effects against her magic.
She weaved her way through Unseelie, following after the quick-footed brownie. They walked up a slope and then down. The layout of Unseelie was strange, and that was something she hadn’t noticed before either. It felt like everything was constantly shifting, changing. As they walked down the slope, Bryson looked over her shoulder only to find it had disappeared. Trees groaned like old men complaining about rickety bones and seemed to close in on them from behind.
Bryson picked up the pace. Down the incline, there was a long table carved from tree bark and chairs topped with plush cushions. Atop the table sat a feast, the scent drifting towards Bryson’s nostrils.
