Even standing next to Raas Vassim made me want to hide myself. The alien was all muscle; his chest and arms looked like they’d been carved from granite, and his stomach was a ripple of hard bumps. How was that even possible? Had he never eaten a roll in his life? The prospect of a breadless existence made me shudder.
“You are cold?”
The deep burr of his voice snapped me from my mental meanderings. I peered up at him, realizing that I’d actually shuddered thinking about a life with no bread. I almost laughed. “No. The cloak is warm enough. Thank you.”
He frowned, a line appearing between his eyes. “You do not need to be afraid. Qualynn might appear strange, but it is not dangerous, as long as you stay by my side.”
He didn’t need to tell me twice. Since the moment we’d stepped off the transport ship and the lilac mist had stretched out curling tendrils to wrap invisibly around my legs, I’d been determined to stick to the Raas like glue.
Growing up on Kimithion III had kept me sheltered, but I’d never even imagined there could be a planet like Qualynn. Although we were moving through a thick marsh, in the distance I spotted the faint outline of floating islands suspended in the fog. If I tipped my head all the way back, there was an upside-down version of boats gliding through the marsh above us.
“It is an illusion,” Raas Vassim said, tracking my gaze. “It only appears that they are upside down.”
I shifted closer to him. “They aren’t real?”
“No, they’re real, but it is we who are upside down.”
My stomach did a strange somersault as I peered more closely at the water our boat pilot was steering us through. It wasn’t water. It was dense fog that spiraled around the tips of his poles, creating lavender eddies that evaporated as quickly as they were formed. And beneath that were more levels of vessels being propelled through the air.
I squeezed my eyes shut, not wanting to think about what I’d seen or what I thought I’d seen. None of it made sense, and my head ached if I tried to separate reality from illusion. All I knew was that I desperately wanted to get back on the Vandar warbird, and back to the solidness of a place that was not controlled by mystical powers.
A large warm hand closed over mine. “We’re here.”
I reluctantly opened my eyes as the alien steering our boat tied it to a post protruding from a floating island. The island was made from what appeared to be rock and soil, with a large, conical base extending below the surface of the fog, with iridescent roots poking out from the dirt and sparkling granules sifting down each time the island shifted.
The island itself wasn’t as awe-inducing as what was on top. Plush moss the color of the turquoise shallows back home covered the ground, and a curious building perched on top of that, the ivory-stone parapets and turrets glistening through the pale-purple mist. Stories were stacked on stories, with outer staircases curling around towers, and spires reaching into the sky.
“What is this place?” I asked, a chill washing over me.
The Raas stepped onto the island and pulled me with him, nodding at the alien who’d steered our boat. “It’s one of the pleasure houses. It’s where Ferria lives.”
“She’s a pleasurer and a witch?”
“More like a madam and a witch.” He wrapped an arm around me and hurried me forward toward the door, which had a small window at the top. Rapping sharply twice, he stepped back and waited.
Despite my nervousness, I was also curious to see what the house was like on the inside. I’d never seen an actual pleasurer, and my imagination ran wild with possibilities. Whatever I’d been envisioning, it hadn’t been the face that appeared in the high window.
Gnarled and heavily lined, the face of a male alien scowled down at us. His nose resembled a sea cucumber that had been left out in the sun too long, and was the same sickly green color. “State your business.”
“Raas Vassim of the Vandar is here to see Ferria for a consult.”
The alien’s beady eyes raked across the Raas, and then me. He snorted once, and disappeared from the window.
“Who—?” I began to ask, but was silenced by the scraping of the door opening. I was struck further speechless when I saw that the creature who’d appraised us at the high window only reached my knees. He was dressed in layers of colorful clothes and translucent, papery wings were tucked behind his back, the tips dragging the floor as he waved us forward.
Raas Vassim didn’t release my hand as we followed the alien through a circular foyer. The ceiling was high and domed, with light streaming in from skylights, which I found odd, since from the outside the castle appeared to have no such roof. I’d expected to see lithe and scantily-clad females cavorting around, but there were none, and the only sound echoing through the stone foyer was a faint melody being played on a stringed instrument.
“Remember,” the Raas leaned down and whispered to me. “Most of what you see won’t be real.”
I gripped his hand tighter as we passed through a curtained doorway, and into a room that was heavily perfumed and lit only with flickering candles. “Is that creature real?”
“In a manner of speaking, yes.”
Before I could ask the Raas why he refused to give me a straight answer, the small male who hobbled along in front of us unfurled his wings, wrapping them around his body. The wings glowed as he appeared to grow before our eyes, and when he unwound them from himself, he was no longer a hunched creature.
