Bastion 2 - Chapter 26

In what felt like no time at all, I found myself packing my backpack for the winter festival. Resting had been exactly what I needed to get my head back on straight, though I was feeling the guilt of it frequently. I had let my mind relax, ignoring urgent thoughts of the signal, and everything else that was taxing me, and just lived for a few days.

I had to remind myself often there was no reason to be guilty, that resting was in the service of getting to answers faster. That idea was going to take some practice—and some follow through. But now that I had rested for several days, it was time to get back on the path to answers.

Nearly time.

Hana, Yuri, Cho, and I were headed out to a winter festival together—one I’d been in a coma for last year. I hadn’t yet had the opportunity to tell them about the things I’d seen on my early morning excursion with Tuko, but today I would. Without the prying eyes and ears of Ko-nah nearby—he made a big show about how much he didn’twant to go to the festival with his mother—I’d be able to tell the crew everything.

It would also be an opportunity to get closer to the true source of the signal, something I’d been anxious about the entire break I’d taken. There was nothing to be done about it during the school week. The source location was too far for Tuko in his current shape. He’d need several modifications, and I wanted to scope out the next target better before the next excursion.

No more surprises.

The first stop on the journey to the winter festival—after morning meditation and breakfast—was a coat shop. Cho and I had brought our winter jackets, but they were well past their prime. I didn’t want Hana to see my father’s ratty old thing that’d been stuffed with extra fiber and patched up a dozen times anyway. With the extra funds from summer apprenticing, I bought a thick, thigh length black peacoat with six gold buttons. It was the nicest thing I’d ever owned.

Hana buttoned the front for me and smoothed out the shoulders with an appraising gaze. She stood by me as I looked in the mirror. For the first time, I looked like I belonged next to her. My arms filled out the sleeves, so did my chest, and I stood taller. I looked good.

Cho was able to find a nice coat, too, though not quite as nice as mine. His apothecary apprenticeship he’d picked up over the summer hadn’t paid him well, but his family was better off than mine, so he got to keep all his earning.

He joined me at the mirror, and we stood next to one another, beaming at our reflections. We shaped up nicely.

“Come on, pretty boy. Let’s get going,” Mae said in my head, her voice laden with sarcasm.

“They’re selling flags right here!” Yuri said, her face pressed up against the window of the little coat shop.

The shop owner grimaced as he watched her, then looked to me as I held out the shiny gold coin—fifty guli—for the coat. It was more than I’d ever spent on a single article of clothing, more than I’d spent on anything other than food, but it was worth it.

The coat was threaded with rubbery pathways between the padding that could be warmed with just a little en munje. The expert craftmanship was well worth the money, and I knew I would own the coat for a long time to come—and probably pass it down to the twins when they got bigger.

The shop owner gave me two copper coins in return, and we were on our way.

We stopped to get Yuri a blue and white snowflake flag, just a guli each, which she waved through the air exuberantly. People were marching through the streets in droves toward the festival entrance. It was held partially on Insig Palace grounds, one of the only times in a year that citizens were allowed into the palace without a specific invitation.

I was sorry I had missed it last year, but this would be a better first trip. Hana had her hand tucked at my elbow and clung to me tightly as we made our way down the street. Children skipped, waving their flags like Yuri, and their parents sipped steaming drinks from matching blue and white cups.

Tiny ice crystals floated on the air, and I wondered if this was natural snow, from the sky, or contrived by the kingdoms’ en masters. All the same, they were beautiful. The sun’s light reflected off every edge, giving the air a colorful gleam. Everyone was engaged in their own conversation, so I decided it was time for me to bring up ours.

“I found something when out with Tuko the other night,” I said in a casual tone. The others picked up on my tactic of talking in plain sight and kept smiles on their faces, seeming unperturbed.

“Define something,” Hana said with a sweet sharpness.

I reached into my pocket and produced the parchment I’d drawn on for Woong-ji. I handed it to Hana and said, “This was all over the boxes in the building. I only saw two open boxes, and they’d had equipment in them for broadcasting. There was a tall spire on the roof they used to route the signal from another location. Mae knows where it’s at.”

“Coincidentally, we’re headed that way,” Mae replied only to me.

Yuri leaned in over Hana’s shoulder. “I think I’ve seen this before.”

“Where?” Cho asked as he took the paper for a look.

Yuri hummed, tapping her chin with the flag. “I can’t remember. Something small I think.”

We passed near the building with the spire on top and I looked that way. I could see the rounded top of the two-meter pole and felt relief. They hadn’t packed up the operation and moved things after my intrusion, which meant they were still none the wiser to my efforts.

After a few kilometers, we boarded a crowded inner-kingdom train that would take us the rest of the way to the palace. The train was much nicer than the one that went out to Pi-Ki. The seats looked new, the floors were clean, and the windows free from scratches and smudges.

We disembarked to a roar of activity. The train pulled away, revealing the festival entrance. Ice columns six meters tall and at least a meter thick supported a frosty arch that read: Busa-nan Winter Festival of Il-suk’s 17th Reign.

The palace turrets ripped a hole in the clouds above and I marveled at its majesty. It was still several kilometers away, and easily the biggest thing in my vision. Colored lights—though weak this time of day due to the bright cloud cover—danced across the white palace. The colorful crystals sat atop massive metal constructs that were scattered throughout the fair grounds, and ry users manned each one, blasting bright light through them.

Vibrant tents sported strings of fairy lights and advertised hot, cinnamon-apple tea, or fresh dumplings, hand-crafted wood sculptures, and forged dish sets. There were more shops than I could’ve dreamed existing in one place, and there was still space for towering stages sporting live contests, dances, and music.

The atmosphere was charged with excitement, and for a moment, all my problems evaporated. Yuri squealed with delight and grabbed Hana’s hand before heading toward the stairs. The girls took off into the crowd as Cho and I chuckled.

A tiny projection of Mae popped up in my vision as she said to only me, “We’re not far from the signal source now. It’s not the palace, I can tell you that, but it’s close.” A map appeared beside her and she pointed to a glowing red spot. “This is the location. This was the rough map I was able to create from what you’ve seen.”

‘We can investigate after a few hours at the festival.’I said, ignoring the twinge of guilt that needled my guts. I was supposed to be enjoying the festival with my friends, but I did have a responsibility to my mother—and perhaps the kingdom—to solve this mystery. I took a deep breath and cleared my mind. A few more hours of fun wouldn’t hurt anything.

I followed the girls as the flittered from shop to shop. I wished I hadn’t eaten so much at school, but it was nice to share a hot, fresh dumpling with Hana. It was a spicy salted pork with crunchy kimchi and a thick gravy for only three copper guli!

We watched a performance of dancers from the Silver Dragonfly—the rival to the Jun’s Rising Phoenix. They twirled and twisted in mesmerizing unison with powder white gowns that flowed around them like an avalanche. Their faces were pale white, with brilliant red lips and their black hair pinned with blue snowflake hairclips in various designs on top of, or behind their heads.

But not all of the girls’ hair was black. One girl in particular with light golden hair stood out. She was allowed to have her hair down, and her makeup was sparse. Her gown was trimmed with vibrant purple and green like the fabled aurora that occurs in the northern regions. She was special.

“That’s her,” Cho whispered, his gaze tracking the elegant woman.

“That’s who?”

“Zari, my sister,” he said in a hushed whisper. “I have to talk to her.”

I nodded to Hana and Yuri to move on, since Yuri’s attention span was non-existent. Cho and I moved our way through the crowd to the front of the stage. When the dance came to an end, the girl with the golden hair locked eyes with Cho. Her bottom lip quivered, and her shoulders shook as a tearful smile lifted her lips.

The girls came to the front of the stage to accept tips and I pulled the spare parchment from my pocket as she approached. She knelt at the edge as Cho raised a trembling hand with coins.

“How can I message you?” he asked, his voice wavering with emotion.

“My name is Mae-li, Silver Dragonfly,” she said, holding back tears as she reached for the tip.

“Why haven’t you written?” He grabbed her hand as she tried to pull away.

Her brow pinched with worry. “It’s complicated—

“No touching the dancers!” a guard shouted from the side of the stadium as he approached us.

Cho released her, and she stepped back.

“Write me,” she said, her voice desperate.

The girls retreated to the back of the stage and a thick curtain fell. The crowd slowly dispersed, but Cho stood there, his gaze a hundred kilometers away.

I nudged his elbow gently. “You okay?”

He took a deep breath and his eyes fixed on me. “Yeah, I’m okay. I’m going to write her tonight.”

“I’m sure there’s a good explanation—

“Yeah, of course,” he cut me off and waved away the conversation. He put on his best grin, though I could see he was shaken, then said, “Let’s get back to the festival.”

It took us a few minutes, but we found the girls perusing an apothecary shop. Cho buried himself in one of the textbooks and I surveyed some of the available ingredients.

I found a jar of honey crystals I knew my mother would like, and at the next shop, a tote bag with a flowery print that was perfect for Eun-bi. It had been a long, long time since we’d exchanged winter gifts, and with my extra funds, I decided it was time to start again.

I found a wood-carved miniature set of po-pong, Do-hwan’s favorite logic game, a four-tool kit for ma repair for Daegon, a horticulture master guide for Suyi, and a white, fluffy stuffed cat with jade-bead eyes for Minjee.

When I had everything secured in Eun-bi’s new bag, I relished the feeling of fewer coins in my pocket for the first time in my life, rather than dreading it. We had more than enough to thrive, and still buy nice things. Sure, not all the choices had been perfect, or practical in Mini’s case, but I was happy to be giving them gifts.

We made our way back toward the festival entrance when I saw a shorter boy with shoulder length black hair I knew all too well. He was walking with a woman only a few centimeters taller than him; his mother I assumed since that who he’d complained non-stop about having to attend the festival with. She was delicate and petite, wearing a knee-length red coat trimmed with black fox-fur, and a white dress.

“Ko-nah,” I called out and he turned. There was a half-snarl on his lips as his gaze hunted for me. When our eyes met, he smiled and waved, but didn’t stop. He turned back and kept a steady forward pace.

His mother turned to look as well, and I gave her a little wave to let her know it was me. She tugged on Ko-nah’s arm and pointed to us. He turned back with the hint of detachment, like he was above visits from friends outside of school, but not above his mother’s requests.

She smiled, revealing perfect teeth as she approached. “Are you Ko-nah’s friends he’s been talking so much about?”

“I’m Jiyong, this is Hana, Yuri, and Cho,” I said and pointed to them in order.

“Nice bag,” Ko-nah said with a smirk as he nodded to Eun-bi’s floral tote.

“I’m wansil Wong, Marina. Are you leaving the festival?” she asked and Ko-nah shifted impatiently.

“Yes, I think so?” I asked and looked to the others. They nodded consent.

“It would be my honor to host Ko-nah’s friends for a late lunch. Would you join us?” She asked.

Ko-nah grimaced. “I’m not feeling up to it, mother.”

She giggled and playfully patted Ko-nah’s hand. “Nonsense, you won’t have to do a thing but sit there.” She looked back to me. “Will you come?”

I wasn’t of a status to decline the invite of a wansil, but we did need to investigate the signal source. “We do have another obligation, but we could spare an hour?” I asked Hana, and she smiled politely, understanding my dilemma.

“We do need to get to that obligation, soon,” Hana stressed the word and made it known we didn’t have time to dally.

“They’re busy,” Ko-nah pressed.

“There’s already curry on the boil at home. Shouldn’t take more than an hour to eat and get to know one another,” she offered, and the tone of her voice tugged at my heart. She just wanted to spend an hour with her son’s friends, getting to know him better, not us. She was a good mother.

“We can spare an hour,” I said with finality.

Marina beamed brighter. “Wonderful! Follow us to transportation.”

She turned away and Ko-nah glared me down with annoyance.

We let Cho and Yuri walk ahead as Ko-nah and his mother lead the way. Hana pinched my side, though it hurt considerably less due to the thick coat. I looked down at her and she mouthed the word, “signal.” One hour wouldn’t ruin everything.

I nodded and said, “We’ll get there.”