Minstrel

Chapter #13 ~ Creak

Two days after leaving the small town and inn where Creak had seen Rip, the slavers came upon their destination. It was a rather large city built within the confines of a high, stone wall. The protection seemed like a bit much to Creak, but she had never lived in an evergreen forest. For all she knew there could be monsters of all kinds creeping through the tall trees' shadows.

Frost clung to the stone making the wall shine in the rising sun's light. Despite hating the cold, Creak loved the beauty winter brought with it. The frost and thin layers of ice filled the world with a glow that was absent any other season. Then when the snow came and covered the ground all the lands were transformed into a new world.

The wagon glided over the icy street that brought them to the city's front gate.

"Sir Lance! Your favorite slavers are here, open the gate!"

Whoever Sir Lance was Creak had a feeling he had been waiting for the slavers to arrive. Within less than a minute the gates to the city had opened and Creak caught a glimpse of the walled community.

The colors were brighter than she had expected and Creak found herself drawn to one side of the cage. The buildings were taller than the ones in Riverfall; all of them at least three stories each. The allies were also narrower than any she had ever seen before. But it wasn't the tall buildings or never ending crowds of people that pushed all round them that got her attention. It was the colors: bright blues, purples, and pinks. Creak had never seen buildings painted such colors. She was used to dull grays and browns.

She hadn't seen any signs on the way in to tell her what city they were in, so she had to ask Vern.

"We're in StoneCold." Vern spoke in a hushed tone. "The festival is today I think. So we probably got here just in time for the auction."

"Great." Creak mumbled and slowly pulled herself away from the bars.

The city was beautiful, but Creak didn't like looking into the eyes of the people. Most of them seemed perfectly fine, but others looked at their cage with a greed she couldn't understand.

"They're the people who came here to buy you." Gorgos giggled in her head, but she lacked her normal glee. The idea of being a slave of any kind didn't appeal to her either. Creak knew Gorgos didn't like her, but they might as well have been the same person. If Creak was stuck as a prisoner of unpaid labor then Gorgos was stuck with her.

Not wanting to look crazy in Vern's eyes, Creak decided to ignore her inner voices for the time being. Instead of replying to Gorgos she shook her head. "This isn't good."

Vern glanced at her and didn't spare her from the morbid truth. "No. It's not."

They sat in the wagon, holding hands for comfort, as the festival played out around them. If she had been in a different situation, Creak probably would have liked the festivities. People danced in complex twirling patterns; the air lifting long skirts making them fan out like flower petals. The citizens of StoneCold were just as vivid as the buildings they lived in. Some colors so bright it hurt to look at them.
The festival's main events were centered in the city plaza, but celebration spread throughout the whole city. It was strange though, since music was banned in Florencia.

What was a festival without music?

Sure it wasn't silent. There were plenty of conversations and joyful laughs, but it all seemed lifeless. Music was the life of a party and without it the whole thing seemed pointless.

Creak tapped the fingers of her free hand against her leg as she began to hum a joyful toon.

The festival needed music and Creak felt like it was her job to provide it.
Vern's hand shot out of hers and slammed against her mouth. Though he didn't say anything Creak could tell what he was trying to tell her.
The expression in his brown eyes screamed at her. 'Are you crazy!' He seemed to say. 'They'll kill you!'