Meanwhile, the girl in the picture, with her face covered by a veil attached to a wide, faded hat, was making her way through the dense crowd of drunken patrons of the "Thirteenth Moon" tavern on the Heart's Square. She wrinkled her nose and tugged at the edges of her dress, caught in the clutches of unwashed loaders, machinists, and constructions, who did not change their clothes day or night. In the dim light of the gas lamps, heart dust, soot, and sweat lingered in her eyes, and her chest could not breathe freely because of the stuffiness.
A fat guard with plump lips and a flushed face grabbed the girl's arm, but immediately got hit in the eye with a heavy bag and fell into the crowd, which sagged under him like a trampoline and pushed him back. He flew past the girl and fell on a table between two completely oblivious Salt Lake miners.
"Affhole!" the girl shouted at the impudent man as she walked away.
Her dirty look ensured that she would continue to make her way among the customers, and she found herself near the rough wooden door behind the bar. The bartender, a big bald man in a frock-coat, looked at her menacingly, but she shot back a glance, from which he hurried back to his glasses and the nearest customer. The girl ducked through the door and stepped into the saving darkness. The stench of the place barely penetrated here. She fumbled for the heart-dust lamp on the wall, lit it by pulling on a metal cord, and in the scarlet glow of the heart particles, she began to descend the steps down into the cellar.
In the cellar, filled with barrels of some particularly vile, pungent-smelling hooch, the light of another heart lamp was already on, and in its reddish glow, another girl was sleeping at the old wooden table, with her hands folded in front of her and her head down on them.
"Pff-ff-fft. Hey!" whistled the visitor, hanging the lamp on a cast-iron hook driven into a stone column.
"Pff-ff-fft, Milo," the girl came up and patted the sleeping one on the shoulder. "If'f me, Fara.
"Oh, Za-ara, is that you," the girl woke up, wiping her eyes. "I'm sorry, I fell asleep while I was waiting for you. Are you alright?"
"Pff. No, I'm nof," Zara said angrily, taking a seat across from Milo. "Fhey manafed to gef a picfure of me."
"Wha-a-at?" Milo yawned, surprised.
"Pic-fu-re," Zara spelled sadly. "On fhe camera. Fnap. Bang! And ffraiff to fhe newfpaper."
"Wait, wait," the awakened girl held her hands up, "Let me get this straight. You mean someone took your picture?"
"Yef," Zara nodded.
"And? It's all over the papers already?" Milo covered her mouth with her hand in horror.
"Yef, no, nof all ofer fhem," Zara nodded, and then shook her head, "Buf fhey all wrofe fhaf I, you know, I'm fhe Ufurper'f miffreff. No, of courfe I don'f mind if. I'm flaffered fhaf I'm..."
"Wait, calm down," the other stopped her, "I can't understand you anymore."
Zara exhaled and, regaining her breath, continued:
"Whaf fo underffand. Fhey wrofe fhaf I waf hif miffreff."
"Where did they write that? In the 'Herald'?" Milo asked worriedly.
"No," the visiting girl said, "In fhe 'Efening Wind'."
"Well, that's not so bad, then," exhaled Milo. "What's in the 'Herald'?"
"Fhe 'Herald' wrofe fhaf fhe Ufurper now eaff breakfaff on fhe fecond fier. And fhaf fif if now fhe new frend," Zara quoted remarkably by heart.
"Then why are you scaring me," Milo said angrily, "Let that scandal rag write whatever they want. Anyway, it's only read on the upper levels, and I'm not going back to work, and neither should you."
YOU ARE READING
Heart's tale
FantasyA long time ago, there was a planet on the surface of which a real living Heart was beating. Each of its beat gave life to many wonderful creatures, and humans were no exception. Once, during a mountain collapse, they became afraid that something m...
