Sure, there were still people on the streets of Meridian City, moving amongst the stalls in the market or standing on street corners, hips cocked, winking lasciviously at anyone who happened to catch their eyes, but there was more than that.
Meridian City didn’t have the army that the City of Lockes had. It didn’t have the knights like the castle did. But it did have a collection of ex-convicts, volunteers, and those voluntold to pick up a weapon and become part of the Meridian City Guard. They mostly were there to keep the peace in the streets, throwing out the riffraff or handling the crowds at one of the many (usually mostly nude) festivals Meridian City seemed to throw. Since Verania had been at peace for decades, there hadn’t been any need to do much beyond crowd control. In fact you rarely saw them, their dark uniforms blending into the shadow and grime until it was absolutely necessary for them to make their presence known.
But now?
Now they were everywhere.
They lined the streets, standing an arm’s length apart, spears and swords and shields at the ready. They walked the ramparts of the wall around the city. They’d probably seen us coming long before we landed. Which meant word had probably already gotten back to Morgan and Randall and it was probably too late to pretend we’d never arrived.
The sheer number of guards suggested they were taking Myrin’s threat seriously. It still didn’t explain how Morgan and Randall had known about it, but that was yet another question I either would or wouldn’t get an answer to.
The people of Meridian City stopped and gaped at us as Tall and Short led us through the city streets. Ryan stood beside me, Tiggy right behind us. Both Gary and Kevin preened under the attention, as they were wont to do, Gary holding his head up high as he pranced, mane flicking prettily around his head. Kevin had his chest puffed out, flexing the muscles in his legs so much that it looked like he had a metal rod shoved up his ass and he was trying to hold it in.
I was used to it by now. I was also used to being stared at. Usually it was in awe or confusion, which I could handle. For the most part, it was the same here. However, much like I’d sensed in Mashallaha, there was a strange undercurrent here, an anger and an animosity I couldn’t quite put my finger on. Some of the people we passed looked furious, and for some reason, that fury appeared to be pointed directly at me. No one seemed to be a specific threat, but some of these people were pissed off.
Or maybe I was just seeing things.
I hadn’t exactly had the best last few days, what with getting attacked by sand mermaids, running from a snake dragon monster thing, facing off against Myrin, and essentially blowing up. My body was lightning-scarred and bruised, and I was cranky, hungry, and tired. Not the best combination.
And it was while we were passing a stall with brightly colored fruits and vegetables that the absolute strangest thing happened.
Someone threw a tomato, and it hit me smack-dab in the middle of the chest.
The sounds around us died almost instantly, like everyone was staring at me in shock. Which, as I looked around, seemed to pretty much be the case. I glanced down at my chest and saw the split fruit slumping down my jerkin, sticky juice and seeds smeared against me.
“Um,” I said. “That’s… different.”
The fruit dropped from my chest and plopped wetly on the ground.
“Oh, girl,” Gary said. “You shouldn’t have done that.”
But before he could work himself up into his patented Glitter Rage, another voice rang out, shrieking, “FUCK YOU, SAM OF WILDS!” and then we were suddenly being hit on all sides. One moment there was silence, and the next people were shouting angrily, pelting us with rotten fruits and vegetables. I took a banana to the face. It wasn’t one of my better days.
Through the sticky haze that fell over my vision, my eyes burning as I tried to blink it away, I saw the guards along the streets try to push the fruit-throwers back, tackling them to the ground and knocking filled baskets askew. Tall and Short were frozen in front of us as Gary started screaming that they were getting it into his luxurious mane, were they godsdamn savages?
Ryan grabbed me by the arm, sword already drawn. “Tiggy,” he barked over his shoulder, “sack of potatoes! Kevin, umbrella!”
I grunted as Tiggy picked me up and threw me over his shoulder, much to my dismay. “You put me down,” I snarled at him. “Let me at ’em! You wanna throw fruit, you fuck-faces? I’ll show you throwing fruit!”
But before I could magic the royal shit out of them, the sounds were muted and the world grew darker as Kevin crowded behind us, his wings spread out above us, cutting off the attack. Ryan and Tiggy began moving forward, shoving Tall and Short out of the way. Short fell over with a squawk, barely rolling out of the way before Kevin crushed him. “Sorry,” I called back to him. “Our bad!”
More bastard fruit-throwers jeered outside Kevin’s wings, and I heard the wet splat as he was struck again and again. He was grimacing and rumbling deep in his chest, eyes flashing. I’d learned a long time ago that a dragon’s wings could be sensitive (and, honestly, the way I’d found out was forever going to be etched into my mind, seeing as how it involved Gary, Kevin, and a gravy boat filled with cream), so I was sure that it didn’t feel the best for him.
“What the hell is this?” I shouted.
“We’ll worry about it later,” Ryan said, sounding pissed off. Which, had I not been covered in gross, I probably would have found inappropriately attractive. But I wasn’t having a very good day. Or week. Or life, really, if I was being honest.
“Gary’s gonna have to choke a bitch,” Gary snarled, leaving trails of glitter falling to the dirty cobblestones under our feet. “Gary gonna bring the pain.”
“Sam’s gonna help with all of that,” I said, just as angry.
“Oh boy,” Ryan said. “Let’s get to the Tilted Cross before we start murdering citizens left and right. Maybe take a deep breath or two. And I’ll be honest, the third-person thing really isn’t working for me.”
“There, there,” Tiggy said, patting my butt. “There, there. You okay? Yeah. You okay.”
It didn’t take us long before we came to a stop and Tiggy lifted me back off his shoulder and set me on the ground. Kevin’s wings shook above us before he lifted them back. I looked behind us to see a line of guards blocking the street, though there didn’t seem to be anyone trying to push through. Nothing further was being thrown at us either, though we were already covered, Kevin in particular. His wings were saturated with the remains of rotted fruits and vegetables. He shook them, grimacing as mushy apples and tomatoes and—randomly—carrots fell off him onto the ground.
“I don’t like Meridian City,” he decided. “They don’t treat me as a god here like everywhere else does. For shame. I have decided I shall burn this city to the ground, just as soon as I am clean.”
“Tiggy smash,” Tiggy growled. “Tiggy smash so hard.”