“Where are we going again?” she asked Hervé.
“Dinner. “
“Where’s that?”
“Shaman Court, a couple of blocks from here. They’ll have a special parade tonight. A lot of people will come, and usually the vendors will serve up many dishes that aren’t available daily.”
She perked up. “What kind of parade?”
“Nightmarchers. Night of Hundred Spirits Parade.”
“Spirit parade? Are those ghosts of dead people?”
“No. It’s a common misconception. Spirits—here we called them oka—are ethereal beings that embody elements of nature. Some of them are half-deities and some are very old and powerful. In many parts of your world, humans worship them as gods and goddesses.”
“Wow. And they’re all going to be in that parade tonight?”
“Not all of them. Only those who reside in Seventh Realm. Tonight is considered a holy day for them. Like Christmas to your people.”
“Really?” Everything about Seventh Realm had started to intrigue her even more.
“They’ll make a procession from the town square to the Sun temple where they’ve planted the sacred tree. And after the ceremonial blessing, the parade will head to Shaman Court for the celebration. Feasting and drinking until morning.”
“Sounds like fun.”
“It is.”
Belle inhaled a deep breath, unable to contain her excitement. She was glad Hervé had talked her into having dinner with him. Not everybody was given a rare chance to witness supernatural beings having a party.
Neat.
They stopped at an intersection. Belle noticed the traffic light wasn’t powered or lit by electricity. She saw tiny fluttering people light up the sign ‘halt’. Their wings were luminous in the dark.
“They’re pixies,” Hervé told her.
“They’re pretty.”
Hervé squinted. “Unfortunately, those are city workers. They have attitudes and complain a lot.”
Belle couldn’t help grinning. The pixies sounded like most of the US government employees. After a stream of carriages, bicycles, and cars that seemed to run on steam engines passed by, the traffic light pixies moved down and hovered inside the sign ‘go’.
Hervé held her hand and they crossed the traffic.
The street became crowded with people. Belle had a feeling she was the only human in here. Each time some passer-by got a good look at her they did a double take and murmured, “Human,” in wonder. A pale young man with long silver hair tried to touch her arm after he recognised she wasn’t an otherworldly being, but a stern stare from Hervé quickly sent the man cowering.
“Thousand apologies, Highness.” The pale man bowed and scuttled away.
“Do you know him?” Belle asked Hervé.
“No. But he should know better than to try to touch you.”
Belle forgot Hervé could be very possessive. It was flattering, actually. A rather strange concept for her, but still. After years living under her sisters’ shadow and constant criticisms from her mother, it felt nice being wanted by someone. Or in her case, being wanted by two men.
Hervé traced the side-line of her jaw with his fingers. “When you’re with me, you’re mine.”
“You aren’t thinking of putting a ‘my property’ sign on me, are you?”
“I was seriously considering it.”