Cinder and the Season of Monsoons

Cinder blinked in startled bafflement at the change in tone, and the golden-haloed vision lifted from her eyes.

Instead of Barkhiya, Cinder found herself being scrutinized by a sharp-featured city guard. Neither the guard sergeant nor the three other constables behind her looked very pleased to find a pair of naked elves sleeping off a rough night in the public gardens.

"We're under arrest?" Cinder protested incredulously. "Aw c'mon, for what?"

"Public indecency?" guessed Maeryll, who had evidently woken up and was stretching with a catlike yawn.

The guard's lips twisted into a grimace. She scoffed. "Hardly. This is the City of a Thousand Vices—no one cares if you're naked." She shook her head. "You're under arrest for the defacement of public property and the desecration of a sacred icon."

Cinder followed the constable's glare to the statue in the fountain. If she squinted, she could see the resemblance to Barkhiya. They'd gotten his cheeks wrong, but the eyes were chips of emerald and the smile was right on. Then she spotted the statue's vandalized hand.

Ah, shoot. Cinder quietly tried to use a toe to push the broken fingers they'd been using as sex toys last night underneath some flowers.

Maeryll lifted her eyebrows. "Desecration? Exciting. I admit, that's a first for me."

"Look, it's fine," Cinder said as the guards led her and Maeryll out of the garden. "I know him. The statue guy, I mean."

Sergeant Khalina gave a sad shake of her head. "Come on. You can join the rest of the folk sobering up from Al-Rabea in the cells."

"I'm serious," Cinder protested, "I even did a quest for him!" She hesitated. "At least, I think I did?"

The sergeant shook her head. "How much did you have to drink last night?"

"Oh, it must've been gallons and gallons," purred Maeryll.

"You're not helping."

The elves' protestations faded until all that remained in the garden was the laughter of water, and the buzzing of bees.

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