anyone can remember. Normal things aren't magical, no matter what you or anyone else wants to believe.” He took his brother by the shoulders and began steering him toward the door.
“But the proof is all around us, Marcus!” Anthony protested, craning his head back. “The whole world is a magical place if you'd just open your eyes to see it!”
“There's no magic, Anthony,” Marcus sighed, guiding them out through the door. “No Forbidden City, no mystical Elements looking out for us. There is, however, a town meeting, and we're not going to be late.”
Town Hall
“And so it is with great pleasure that I would like to introduce Captain Garren.” The mayor wiped his brow and began clapping enthusiastically. The rest of the town joined in a few moments later as the leader of the travelers stepped up to the little podium. The man was a few inches shorter than average, light brown hair just beginning to go silver at the temples, but he moved with a vigorous energy, brilliant smile dazzling the room.
“This is all wrong,” Anthony whispered, eyes narrowing as he tracked the man's every move. “We should be driving them out, not sitting here listening to what they have to say. Masukawa said that they would bring wondrous gifts that would corrupt and destroy, giving men the kind of power reserved for–”
“Shh,” several people around them hissed. Marcus looked around apologetically as his brother subsided into low grumbles.
“Good morning, Blessing!” the energetic man boomed from behind the podium. “I just have to say, it really is such a blessing to be here. The winter air is lovely, the town is just pristine... even the girls are prettier here.” He gestured to Lena, grinning. She rolled her eyes. The man chuckled. “Mr. Ortega asked me to say a few words, just to set your minds at ease. You see,” he continued as he began to stroll back and forth before the assembled townsfolk. “Underneath all the little gadgets and flashy trinkets, we're people, just like you. Sure, we're here from a long way off and have things that you've probably never seen, but that doesn't make us any different. So we really just want to clear the air, make sure that everyone's on the same page. I know that I talked to most of you last night, but I still see some unfamiliar faces out in the crowd, and I just want to say…”
He stopped mid-sentence, staring at Marcus. No, Marcus realized, staring at my idiot brother. The only person in the crowd who's waving his hand around in the air.
“Yes?” the man, Garren, asked in amusement. “Was there a question?”
“There was, actually.” Anthony rose to his feet, glaring at the traveler captain. Marcus sighed to himself. “Where exactly did you say you came from?”
“Oh, you know, here and there,” Garren answered easily with a smile, winking at a small group of farm girls in the first few rows, eliciting a round giggles. “Mostly there. But really, that isn't important, what matters is that we're here now and we'd love to–”
“We know there isn't anything out to the east of Blessing,” Anthony cut him off accusingly. “We all know that, just miles and miles of mountain. There's something you're not telling us, like why you came here, to Blessing. Or why you didn't come along any of the roads, or why your men back there are holding those little boxes like–”
Marcus pulled his brother back into his chair, silencing Anthony's protests with a hard look. He glanced around and got to his feet, clearing his throat. “I'm sorry about my brother,” Marcus mumbled. “He gets a little excited, is all.” He bobbed his head in a curt bow and eased back into his chair, scowling at his little brother.
“No, no, nothing to apologize for,” Garren laughed, “he's got a good head on his shoulders, and he brought up an important point.” The man smiled, holding up a finger for emphasis. “The reason we're here. Now, we've heard that the town of Blessing has the most amazing flowers, flowers that bloom year-round, even in the middle of winter, with a fragrance that would make a grown man weep.”
Marcus sat up a little straighter, feeling a measure of pride at the man’s praise. That’s right, he thought. And we’re all a part of that.
“Now, we're from a long ways off, past all the mountains you've ever heard of, and back in our home markets, well, they would do just about anything for...”
A sharp elbow dug into Marcus's side as Anthony hissed, “Marcus. Marcus!”
Marcus glanced around, but everyone in their vicinity was listening to the speech with rapt attention. At least he's keeping his voice down and not making a scene, Marcus thought tiredly. “What is it, Anthony?” he whispered in return, keeping his head low.
“You shouldn't have interrupted me,” Anthony complained. “Like I was saying, those boxes they're carrying... I think they might be weapons.”
“What? No, look at them. They're too small; they're no more dangerous than a brick. Probably just something that they carry around to keep track of their orders. Like the southern merchants...”
Marcus frowned at the little black box one of the travelers was holding. Sure, something about it seemed vaguely menacing… but no more than any of the other contraptions the travelers had brought. He shook his head. No, he wasn’t going to start jumping at shadows. But still… there was something about the hard look in the traveler’s eyes as the man scanned the room… Marcus could almost believe…
“It's a weapon,” his brother insisted. “Just look at the way they hold them. I've seen you in the fields when you think there's a wild boar around. That's exactly the way you hold your bow. And when you've nocked an arrow, you let your gaze kind of wander over an area, not really looking at any one thing, just like they're doing right now.”
Marcus drew in a startled breath. Anthony was right. But... “That doesn't make any sense. Why would they have weapons out here? Besides, something that size could never have enough pull to fire anything,” he muttered, half to himself. “Some kind of crossbow, maybe? But no, there's no string, how could they possibly...”
“In some of the earlier works I've read, they referred to something called a…” Anthony's eyes flitted around the room, and he dropped his voice to an even lower register, “a gun. They were considered to be very dangerous, allowing a single man to wield the power of ten or twenty warriors.”
Marcus gave his brother a hard look. If he's telling the truth... He shook away the nagging thought. “No, Anthony, those are just stories that old Nan used to tell us when she wanted to scare us into doing our chores. They aren't anything but–”
All around the brothers, everyone stood and started clapping, interrupting Marcus. He rolled his eyes and stood, joining in halfheartedly. He caught a hint of movement near the edge of the crowd, and spotted Lena easing toward the back of the hall looking right at him.
Her eyes met his, and she gave him a sensuous smile. Marcus gulped, his pants suddenly seeming a few sizes too small. “Come on,” she mouthed, crooking her finger as she slipped back toward the door.
Marcus licked his lips, glancing around the room. Everyone’s focused on the travelers, and it looks like they're probably going to be here for a little while. Lena's heading for the back door and the stables are right outside… which would mean...
Lena paused at the door, licking her upper lip slowly as she tugged at the strings of her bodice. I think I can figure out what that means. He pushed past his brother, who was still going on about something that was clearly unimportant, and made his way through the row. He checked to make sure no-one was watching before surreptitiously exiting the building, dashing toward the stables and what promised to be a far, far more interesting meeting.
Whispers
“Shouldn't you be getting dressed?” Lena smirked down at Marcus, carefully smoothing her disheveled clothing back into an imitation of modesty. “I'm sure you have something to do… other than leer at my backside, that is.”
“Admiring the view,” Marcus drawled, watching as she pulled her hair back into a tail, sending little pieces of hay fluttering to the floor as she did. It had been about an hour since they’d slipped away from
the meeting, and people were just beginning to filter out of the town hall. “And there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”
“And when someone comes asking why there’s a mostly naked man lazing about in the hayloft in the middle of the day?” Her eyes danced merrily.
“Please, who’s going to come looking? Everyone has their animals bundled up safe at home for the winter, and the only thing in the public stable is the travelers' strange ship.” He frowned toward the edge of the hay loft, knowing that the black, metal monstrosity was lurking below them. It’s just like a wagon, or like a ship down in Silverfall, he reminded himself, shrugging away his apprehension. “Besides, I was up on watch all last night. I should have been asleep hours ago.”
“Tired, were you?” Lena shot him an unrepentant grin. “I suppose that could explain a few things about your... performance.” She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, dark eyes gleaming in the afternoon light.
“Hey, now,” Marcus exclaimed in feigned outrage. “I didn't hear you complaining about it.”
“Oh, it was all right,” she teased, rocking back and forth on her heels. “But I'm afraid the dark man who guards the ember lilies every seventh night could teach you a thing or two.”
“I'd like to see him perform at his best, waylaid in the field and then ambushed in the